The Puppet Crown ..............................................................................................................................................1

Harold MacGrath.....................................................................................................................................1

CHAPTER I. THE SCEPTER WHICH WAS A STICK........................................................................2

CHAPTER II. THE COUP D'ETAT OF COUSIN JOSEF.....................................................................7

CHAPTER III. AN EPISODE TEN YEARS AFTER ...........................................................................13

CHAPTER IV. AN ADVENTURE WITH ROYALTY.......................................................................22

CHAPTER V. BEHIND THE PUPPET BOOTH.................................................................................29

CHAPTER VI. MADEMOISELLE OF THE VEIL ..............................................................................36

CHAPTER VII. SOME DIALOGUE, A SPRAINED ANKLE, AND SOME SOLDIERS.................44

CHAPTER VIII. THE RED CHATEAU ...............................................................................................52

CHAPTER IX. NOTHING MORE SERIOUS THAN A HOUSE PARTY.........................................59

CHAPTER X. BEING OF LONG RIDES, MAIDS, KISSES AND MESSAGES ...............................68

CHAPTER XI. THE DENOUEMENT ..................................................................................................76

CHAPTER XII. WHOM THE GODS DESTROY AND A FEW OTHERS ........................................82

CHAPTER XIII. BEING OF COMPLICATIONS NOT RECKONED ON .........................................89

CHAPTER XIV. QUI M'AIME, AIME MON CHIEN .........................................................................97

CHAPTER XV. IN WHICH FORTUNE BECOMES CARELESS AND PRODIGAL .....................106

CHAPTER XVII. SOME PASSAGES AT ARMS.............................................................................124

CHAPTER XVIII. A MINOR CHORD AND A CHANGE OF MOVEMENT .................................128

CHAPTER XIX. A CHANCE RIDE IN THE NIGHT.......................................................................133

CHAPTER XX. THE LAST STAND OF A BAD SERVANT ...........................................................140

CHAPTER XXI. A COURT FETE AT THE RED CHATEAU .........................................................148

CHAPTER XXII. IN WHICH MAURICE RECURS TO OFFENBACH ..........................................153

CHAPTER XXIII. A GAME OF POKER AND THE STAKES........................................................159

CHAPTER XXIV. THE PRISONER OF THE RED CHATEAU......................................................166

CHAPTER XXV. THE FORTUNES OF WAR ..................................................................................175

CHAPTER XXVI. A PAGE FROM TASSO ......................................................................................180

CHAPTER XXVII. WORMWOOD AND LEES...............................................................................186

CHAPTER XXVIII. INTO THE HANDS OF AUSTRIA..................................................................189

CHAPTER XXIX. INTO STILL WATERS AND SILENCE............................................................192

The king sat in his private garden in the shade of a potted orange tree, the leaves of which were splashed with

brilliant yellow. It was high noon of one of those last warm sighs of passing summer which now and then

lovingly steal in between the chill breaths of September. The velvet hush of the midday hour had fallen.

There was an endless horizon of turquoise blue, a zenith pellucid as glass. The trees stood motionless; not a

shadow stirred, save that which was cast by the tremulous wings of a black and purple butterfly, which, near

to his Majesty, fell, rose and sank again. From a drove of wild bees, swimming hither and thither in quest of

the final sweets of the year, came a low murmurous hum, such as a man sometimes fancies he hears while

The king, from where he sat, could see the ivyclad towers of the archbishop's palace, where, in and about

the narrow windows, gray and white doves fluttered and plumed themselves. The garden sloped gently

downward till it merged into a beautiful lake called the Werter See, which, stretching out several miles to the

west, in the heart of the thickwooded hills, trembled like a thin sheet of silver.

Toward the south, far away, lay the dim, uneven blue line of the Thalian Alps, which separated the kingdom

that was from the duchy that is, and the duke from his desires. More than once the king leveled his gaze in

There was in the air the delicate odor of the deciduous leaves which, every little while, the king inhaled, his

eyes half closed and his nostrils distended. Save for these brief moments, however, there rested on his

countenance an expression of disenchantment which came of the knowledge of a part illplayed, an

expression which described a consciousness of his unfitness and inutility, of lethargy and weariness and

To be weary is the lot of kings, it is a part of their royal prerogative; but it is only a great king who can be

weary gracefully. And Leopold was not a great king; indeed, he was many inches short of the ideal; but he

was philosophical, and by the process of reason he escaped the pitfalls which lurk in the path of peevishness.

To know the smallness of the human atom, the limit of desire, the existence of other lives as precious as their

own, is not the philosophy which makes great kings. Philosophy engenders pity; and one who possesses that

As for Leopold, he would rather have wandered the byways of Kant than studied royal etiquette. A crown had

been thrust on his head and a scepter into his hand, and, willynilly, he must wear the one and wield the

other. The confederation had determined the matter shortly before the FrancoPrussian war.

The kingdom that was, an admixture of old France and newer Austria, was a gateway which opened the road

to the Orient, and a gateman must be placed there who would be obedient to the will of the great travelers,

were they minded to pass that way. That is to say, the confederation wanted a puppet, and in Leopold they

found a dreamer, which served as well. That glittering bait, a crown, had lured him from his peaceful Osian

hills and valleys, and now he found that his crown was of straw and his scepter a stick.

He longed to turn back, for his heart lay in a tomb close to his castle keep, but the way back was closed. He

had sold his birthright. So he permitted his ministers to rule his kingdom how they would, and gave himself

up to dreams. He had been but a cousin of the late king, whereas the duke of the duchy that is had been a

brother. But cousin Josef was possessed of red hair and a temper which was redder still, and, moreover, a

He would have been a king to the tip of his fiery hair; and it was for this very reason that his subsequent

appeals for justice and his rights fell on unheeding ears. The confederation feared Josef; therefore they

dispossessed him. Thus Leopold sat on the throne, while his Highness bit his nails and swore, impotent to all

Leopold leaned forward from his seat. In his hand he held a riding stick with which he drew shapeless

pictures in the yellow gravel of the path. His brows were drawn over contemplative eyes, and the hint of a

sour smile lifted the corners of his lips. Presently the brows relaxed, and his gaze traveled to the opposite side

In the middle of the path, as rigid as a block of white marble, reposed a young bulldog, his moist black nose

quivering under the repeated attacks of a persistent insect. It occurred to the king that there was a

resemblance between the dog and his master, the Englishman. The same heavy jaws were there, the same

A momentary regret passed through him that he had not been turned from a like mold. Next his gaze shifted

to the end of the path, where a young Lieutenant stood idly kicking pebbles, his cuirass flaming in the

The British minister made little of the threescore years which were closing in on him, after the manner of an

army besieging a citadel. He was full of animal exuberance, and his eyes, a trifle faded, it must be admitted,

were still keenly alive and observant. He was big of bone, florid of skin, and his hair what remained of

itwas wiry and bleached. His clothes, possibly cut from an old measure, hung loosely about the girth a

sign that time had taken its tithe. For thirtyfive years he had served his country by cunning speeches and

bursts of fine oratory; he had wandered over the globe, lulling suspicions here and arousing them there, a

He had not been sent here to watch this kingdom. He was touching a deeper undercurrent, which began at St.

Petersburg and moved toward Central Asia, Turkey and India, sullenly and irresistibly. And now his task was

done, and another was to take his place, to be a puppet among puppets. He feared no man save his valet, who

knew his one weakness, the love of a son on whom he had shut his door, which pride forbade him to open.

This son had chosen the army, when a fine diplomatic career had been planneda small thing, but it

sufficed. Even now a word from an humbled pride would have reunited father and son, but both refused to

The diplomat in turn watched the king as he engaged in the aimless drawing. His meditation grew

retrospective, and his thoughts ran back to the days when he first befriended this lonely prince, who had come

to England to learn the language and manners of the chill islanders. He had been handsome enough in those

days, this Leopold of Osia, gay and eager, possessing an indefinable charm which endeared him to women

and made him respected of men. To have known him then, the wildest stretch of fancy would never have

placed him on this puppet throne, surrounded by enemies, menaced by his adopted people, rudderless and

"Fate is the cup," the diplomat mused, "and the human life the ball, and it's toss, toss, toss, till the ball slips

and falls into eternity." Aloud he said, "Your Majesty seems to be well occupied."

"Yes," replied the king, smiling. "I am making crowns and scratching them out again usurping the gentle

pastime of their most Christian Majesties, the confederation. A pretty bauble is a crown, indeedat a

distance. It is a fine thing to wear one in a dream. But to possess one in the real, and to wear it day by day

with the eternal fear of laying it down and forgetting where you put it, or that others plot to steal it, or that

you wear it dishonestlyWell, well, there are worse things than a beggar's crust."

"No one is honest in this world, save the brute," said the diplomat, touching the dog with his foot. "Honesty is

instinctive with him, for he knows no written laws. The gold we use is stamped with dishonesty,

notwithstanding the beautiful mottoes; and so long as we barter and sell for it, just so long we remain

dishonest. Yes, you wear your crown dishonestly but lawfully, which is a nice distinction. But is any crown

worn honestly? If it is not bought with gold, it is bought with lies and blood. Sire, your great fault, if I may

speak, is that you haven't continued to be dishonest. You should have filled your private coffers, but you have

not done so, which is a strange precedent to establish. You should have increased taxation, but you have

diminished it; you should have forced your enemy's hand four years ago, when you ascended the throne, but

you did not; and now, for all you know, his hand may be too strong. Poor, dishonest king! When you

accepted this throne, which belongs to another, you fell as far as possible from moral ethics. And now you

would be honest and be called dull, and dream, while your ministers profit and smile behind your back. I beg

your Majesty's pardon, but you have always requested that I should speak plainly."

The king laughed; he enjoyed this frank friend. There was an essence of truth and sincerity in all he said that

"Indeed, I shall be sorry to have you go tomorrow," he said, "for I believe if you stayed here long enough you

would truly make a king of me. Be frank, my friend, be always frank; for it is only on the base of frankness

"Ah, my friend," replied the king with a tinge of sadness, "it is not the years that age us; it is how we live

them. In the last four years I have lived ten. Today I feel so very old! I am weary of being a king. I am

weary of being weary, and for such there is no remedy. Truly I was not cut from the pattern of kings; no, no. I

am handier with a book than with a scepter; I'd liever be a man than a puppet, and a puppet I ama

figurehead on the prow of the ship, but I do not guide it. Who care for me save those who have their ends to

gain? None, save the archbishop, who yet dreams of making a king of me. And these are not my people who

surround me; when I die, small care. I shall have left in the passing scarce a finger mark in the dust of time."

"Ah, Sire, if only you would be cold, unfriendly, avaricious. Be stone and rule with a rod of iron. Make the

"Yes; not only the metal, but the verb intransitive. Ah, could the fires of ambition light your soul!"

And the king turned in his seat and looked across the crisp green lawns to the beds of flowers, where,

followed by a maid at a respectful distance, a slim young girl in white was cutting the hardy geraniums,

Both men continued to remark the girl. At length she came toward them, her arms laden with flowers. She

was at the age of ten, with a beautiful, serious face, which some might have called prophetic. Her hair was

dark, shining like coal and purple, and gossamer in its fineness; her skin had the bluewhiteness of milk;

while from under long black lashes two luminous brown eyes looked thoughtfully at the world. She smiled at

the king, who eyed her fondly, and gave her unengaged hand to the Englishman, who kissed it.

"And how is your Royal Highness this fine day? he asked, patting the hand before letting it go.

"Will you have a dahlia, Monsieur?" With a grave air she selected a flower and slipped it through his

"Dahlias signify dignity and elegance; you are dignified, Monsieur, and dignity is elegance."

"Well!" cried the Englishman, smiling with pleasure; "that is turned as adroitly as a woman of thirty."

"And am I not to have one?" asked the king, his eyes full of paternal love and pride.

"Your Majesty!" cried the king in mimic despair. "Was ever a father treated thus? Your Majesty! Do you not

Suddenly she crossed over and kissed the king on the cheek, and he held her to him for a moment.

The bulldog had risen, and was wagging his tail the best he knew how. If there was any young woman who

could claim his unreserved admiration, it was the Princess Alexia. She never talked nonsense to him in their

rambles together, but treated him as he should be treated, as an animal of enlightenment.

"And here is Bull," said the princess, tickling the dog's nose with a scarlet geranium.

The dog looked up at his master as if to say: "There now, what do you think of that?"

"Tomorrow I am going away," said the diplomat, "and as I can not very well take Bull with me, I give him

"No, but when I leave your father. You see, he was sent to me by my son who is in India. I wish to keep him

near me as long as possible. My son, your Highness, was a bad fellow. He ran away and joined the army

against my wishes, and somehow we have never got together again. Still, I've a sneaking regard for him, and

I believe he hasn't lost all his filial devotion. Bull is, in a way, a connecting link."

The king turned again to the gravel pictures. These Englishmen were beyond him in the matter of analysis.

Her Royal Highness smiled vaguely, and wondered what this son was like. Once more she smiled, then

moved away toward the palace. The dog, seeing that she did not beckon, lay down again. An interval of

silence followed her departure. The thought of the Englishman had traveled to India, the thought of the king

"Well, Sire, let us come to the business at hand, the subject of my last informal audience. It is true, then, that

the consols for the loan of five millions of crowns are issued today, or have been, since the morning is

"Yes, it is true. I am well pleased. Jacobi and Brother have agreed to place them at face value. I intend to lay

out a park for the public at the foot of the lake. That will demolish two millions and a half. The remainder is

to be used in city improvements and the reconstruction of the apartments in the palace, which are too small. If

only you knew what a pleasure this affords me! I wish to make my good city of Bleiberg a thing of beauty

"Friends?" The king's face grew puzzled, and its animation faded away. "None that I know. This is positively

"Of course, the people are enthusiastic, considering the old rate of taxation will be renewed?" The diplomat

"So far as I can see," answered the king, who could make nothing of this interrogatory.

"Come, come, my friend," cried the king goodnaturedly; "but a moment gone you were chiding me because

I did nothing. I may not fill my coffers as you suggested, but I shall please my eye, which is something.

"I promise not only to listen, but to hear," laughing; "not only to hear, but to think. Is that sufficient?"

"For three years," began the Englishman, "I have been England's representative here. As a representative I

could not meddle with your affairs, though it was possible to observe them. Today I am an unfettered agent

of self, and with your permission I shall talk to you as I have never talked before and never shall again."

The diplomat rose from his seat and walked up and down the path, his hands clasped behind his back, his

chin in his collar. The bulldog yawned, stretched himself, and followed his master, soberly and thoughtfully.

After a while the Englishman returned to his chair and sat down. The dog gravely imitated him. He

understood, perhaps better than the king, his master's mood. This pacing backward and forward was always

During the past year he had been the repository of many a secret. Well, he knew how to keep one. Did not he

carry a secret which his master would have given much to know? Some one in far away India, after putting

him into the ship steward's care, had whispered: "You tell the governor that I think just as much of him as

ever." He had made a desperate effort to tell it the moment he was liberated from the box, but he had not yet

"To begin with," said the diplomat, "what would your Majesty say if I should ask permission to purchase the

The king, who had been leaning forward, fell back heavily in his seat, his eyes full wide and his mouth agape.

Then, to express his utter bewilderment, he raised his hands above his head and limply dropped them.

"I should say," answered the king, with a nervous laugh, "that my friend had lost his senses, completely and

"The fact is," the Englishman declared, "they were never keener nor more lucid than at this present moment."

"Certainly you can not be serious, and if you were, it is out of the question. Death of my life! The kingdom

would be at my ears. The people would shout that I was selling out to the English, that I was putting them

"Your Majesty will recollect that the measure authorizing this loan was rather a peculiar one. Five millions

were to be borrowed indiscriminately, of any man or body of men willing to advance the money on the

securities offered. First come, first served, was not written, but it was implied. It was this which roused my

"I believe you. When the bill came to you, you were not expected to recollect anything but the royal

signature. Have you read half of what you have signed and made law? No. I am serious. What is it to you or

to the people, who secures this public mortgage, so long as the money is forthcoming? I desire to purchase at

The diplomat smiled. The king's political ignorance was well known. "As a representative of England, Sire, I

could not purchase the stubs from which these certificates are cut. And then, as I remarked, I am an

unfettered agent of self. The interest at two per cent. will be a fine income on a lump of stagnant money.

Even in my own country, where millionaires are so numerous as to be termed common, I am considered a

rich man. My personal property, aside from my estates, is five times the amount of the loan. A mere

"Impossible, impossible!" cried the king, starting to his feet, while a line of worry ran across his forehead. He

strode about impatiently slapping his boots with the riding stick. "It is impossible."

"I can not permit you to put in jeopardy a quarter of a million pounds," forgetting for the moment that he was

"Aha!" the diplomat cried briskly. "There is, then, beneath your weariness and philosophy, a fear?"

"A fear?" With an effort the king smoothed the line from his forehead. "Why should there be fear?"

"I was thinking what a fine coup de maitre it would be for his Highness to gather in all these pretty slips of

"Small matter if he should. I should pay him." The king sat down. "And it is news to me that Josef can get

"The face of the world changes in the course of ten years. Will there be five millions in your treasury ten

"The wealth of my kingdom is not to be questioned," proudly, "nor its resources."

"But in ten years, with the ministers you have?" The Englishman shrugged doubtfully. "Why have you not

formed a new cabinet of younger men? Why have you retained those of your predecessor, who are your

The expression of weariness returned to the king's face. He knew that all this was but a preamble to

something of deeper significance. He anticipated what was forming in the other's mind, but he wished to

avoid a verbal declaration. O, he knew that there was a net of intrigue enmeshing him, but it was so very fine

that he could not pick up the smallest thread whereby to unravel it. Down in his soul he felt the shame of the

knowledge that he dared not. A dreamer, rushing toward the precipice, would rather fall dreaming than waken

"I never doubted your Majesty's perspicacity. You do not know, but you suspect, what I am about to disclose

to you. My hope is that, when I am done, your Majesty will throw Kant and the rest of your philosophers out

of the window. The people are sullen at the mention of your name, while they cheer another. There is an

astonishing looseness about your revenues. The reds and the socialists plot for revolution and a republic,

which is a thin disguise for a certain restoration. Your cousin the duke visits you publicly twice each year. He

has been in the city a week at a time incognito, yet your minister of police seems to know nothing." The

The king, noting the action, construed it as the subtle old diplomat intended he should. "Yes, yes! I am a king

"The archbishop and the chancellor are the only friends you possess. The Marshal, from personal

considerations merely, remains neutral. Your army, excepting the cuirassiers, are traitors to your house. The

wisest thing you have done was to surround yourself with this mercenary body, whom you call the royal

cuirassiers, only, instead of three hundred, you should have two thousand. Selfinterest will make them true

to you. You might find some means to pay them, for they would be a good buffer between you and your

enemies. The president of the Diet and the members are passing bills which will eventually undermine you.

How long it will take I can not say. But this last folly, the loan, which you could have got on without, caps

the climax. The duke was in the city last week unknown to you. Your minister of finance is his intimate. This

loan was a connivance of them all. Why ten years, when it could easily be liquidated in five? I shall tell you.

The duke expects to force you into bankruptcy within that time, and when the creditor demands and you can

"And where will you go? Certainly not to Osia, since you traded it for this throne. It was understood, when

you assumed the reign, that the finances of the kingdom would remain unimpeachable. Bankrupt, the

confederation will be forced to disavow you. They will be compelled to restore the throne to your enemy,

"This is an independent state,conditionally. "The confederation have formed themselves into a

protectorate. Why? I can only guess. One or more of them covet these beautiful lands. What are ten years to

Josef, when a crown is the goal? Your revenues are slowly to decline, there will be internal troubles to eat up

what money you have in the treasury. O, it is a plot so fine, so swiftly conceived, so cunningly devised that I

would I were twenty years younger, to fight it with you! But I am old. My days for acting are past. I can only

advise. He was sure of his quarry, this Josef whose hair is of many colors. Had you applied to the money

syndicates of Europe, the banks of England, France, Germany, or Austria, your true sponsor, the result would

always be the same: your ruin. Covertly I warned you not to sign; you laughed and signed. A trap was there,

your own hand opened it. How they must have laughed at you! If you attempt to repudiate your signature the

"Truly, the shade of Macchiavelli masks in the garb of your cousin. I admire the man's genius. This is his

throne by right of inheritance. I do not blame him. Only, I wish to save you. If you were alone, why, I do not

say that I should trouble myself, for you yourself would not be troubled. But I have grown to love that child

of yours. It is all for her. Do you now understand why I make the request? It appears Quixotic? Not at all. Put

my money in jeopardy? Not while the kingdom exists. If you can not pay back, your kingdom will. Perhaps

you ask what is the difference, whether I or the duke becomes your creditor? This: in ten years I shall be

happy to renew the loan. In ten years, if I am gone, there will be my son. You wonder why I do this. I repeat

it is for your daughter. And perhaps," with a dry smile, "it is because I have no love for Josef."

"The resource of a child! They would laugh at you for your pains. For they are too proud of their prowess in

statecraft to tolerate a suspicion that your cousin is a cleverer man than all of them put together. There

The king made no reply. He set his elbows on the arms of the rustic seat, interlaced his fingers and rested his

chin on them, while his booted legs slid out before him. His meditation lengthened into several minutes. The

"Come with me," said the king, rising quickly. "I will no longer dream. I will act. Come."

The diplomat nodded approvingly; and together they marched toward the palace. The bulldog trotted on

behind, his pink tongue lolling out of his black mouth, a white tusk or two gleaming on each side. The

Lieutenant of the cuirassiers saluted as they passed him, and, when they had gone some distance, swung in

The business of the kingdom, save that performed in the Diet, was accomplished in the east wing of the

palace; the king's apartments, aside from the state rooms, occupied the west wing. It was to the business

section that the king conducted the diplomat. In the chamber of finance its minister was found busy at his

desk. He glanced up casually, but gave an ejaculation of surprise when he perceived who his visitors were.

"O, your Majesty!" he cried, bobbing up and running out his chair. "Good afternoon, your Excellency," to the

Englishman, adjusting his goldrimmed glasses, through which his eyes shone pale and cold.

The diplomat bowed. The little man reminded him of M. Thiers, that effervescence of soda tinctured with the

bitterness of iron. He understood the distrust which Count von Wallenstein entertained for him, but he was

not distrustful of the count. Distrust implies uncertainty, and the Englishman was not the least uncertain as to

There were few men whom the count could not interpret; one stood before him. He could not comprehend

why England had sent so astute a diplomat and politician to a thirdrate kingdom. Of that which we can not

understand we are suspicious, and the guilty are distrustful. Neither the minister of police nor his

subordinates could fathom the purpose of this calm, dignified old man with the difficult English name.

"Count," began the king, pleasantly, "his Excellency here has made a peculiar request."

"He offers to purchase the entire number of certificates issued today for our loan."

"Five millions of crowns?" The minister's astonishment was so genuine that in jerking back his head his

"I would not believe him serious at first, count," said the king, laughing easily, "but he assured me that he is.

"O, your Majesty," cried the minister, excitedly, "it would not be politic. And then the measure"

"Is it possible that I have misconstrued its import?" the diplomat interposed with a fine air of surprise.

"Has nothing whatever to do with the matter. Something greater, which goes by the name of selfinterest."

"Ah," said the count, his wrinkles relaxing; "then it is on your own responsibility?"

"But five millions of crownstwo hundred and fifty thousand pounds!" The minister could not compose

himself. "This is a vast sum of money. We expected not an individual, but a syndicate, to accept our

securities, to become debtors to the various banks on the continent. But a personal affair! Five millions of

The Englishman smiled. "I dare say I have more than my share of this world's goods. I can give you a check

"Is dead," said the king gently. He had no desire to hear the minister recount that ruler's virtues. "Peace to his

"Five millions of crowns!" The minister had lost his equipoise in the face of the Englishman's great riches, of

which hitherto he had held some doubts. Suddenly a vivid thought entered his confused brain. The paper

cutter in his hand trembled. In the breathing space allowed him he began to calculate rapidly. The king and

the diplomat had been in the garden; something had passed between them. What? The paper cutter slowly

ceased its uneven movements. The count calmly placed it behind the inkwells. . . . . The Englishman knew.

The glitter of gold gave way to the thought of the peril. A chasm yawned at his feet. But he was an old soldier

"We should be happy to accord you the privilege of becoming the kingdom's creditor," he said, smiling at the

diplomat, whom nothing had escaped. "I am afraid, however, that your request has been submitted too late.

At ten o'clock this morning the transfer of the certificates would have been a simple matter. There are twenty

in all; it may not be too late to secure some of them." He looked tranquilly from the Englishman to the king.

The smiling mask fell from the king's face; he felt that he was lost. He tried to catch his friend's eye, but the

"They seem to be at a premium," the Englishman said, "which speaks well for the prosperity of the country. I

"It would have been a pleasure indeed," replied the count. He stood secure within his fortress, so secure that

"Your Majesty is giving the matter too much importance," said the diplomat. "It was merely a whim. I shall

The count bent low, while the king nodded absently. He was thinking that a penful of ink, carelessly trailed

over a sheet of paper, had lost him his throne. He was about to draw the arm of the diplomat through his own,

when his step was arrested by the entrance of a messenger who presented a letter to the minister of finance.

"With your Majesty's permission," he said, tearing open the envelope. As he read the contents, his shoulders

sank to their habitual stoop and benignity once more shone in the place of alertness. "Decidedly, fate is not

with your Excellency today. M. Jacobi writes me that four millions have already been disposed of to M.

Everard Co., English bankers in the Konigstrasse, who are representing a French firm in this particular

The adverb which concluded this declaration caught the keen ear of the minister, who grew tall again. What

would he not have given to read the subtle brain of his opponent, for opponent he knew him to be! His

"Well," said the king impatiently, "let us be gone, my friend. The talk of money always leaves a copperish

Arm in arm they passed from the chamber. When the door closed behind them, the minister of finance drew

"Everard Co.," mused the Englishman aloud. "Was it not indeed a stroke for your cousin to select them as his

agents? You will in truth be accused of selling out to the English. But there is a coincidence in all this."

"On the contrary, you are saved. Everard Co. are my bankers and attorneys; in fact, I own an interest in the

"Sire, we English have a peculiar trait; it is asking for something after we have taken it. The human

countenance is a fine picture book. I should like to read that belonging to your cousin Josef, providing I could

"Say nothing. Here is the bulldog; take him to her Royal Highness with my compliments. There is no truer

friend than an animal of his breed. He is steadfast in his love, for he makes but few friends; he is a good

companion, for he is undemonstrative; he can read and draw inferences, and your enemies will be his. I shall

"Ah, to lose you now!" said, the king, a heaviness in his heart such as presentiment brings.

The diplomat turned and went down the grand corridor. The bulldog tugged at his chain. Animals are gifted

with prescience. He knew that his master had passed forever out of his life. Presently he heard the voice of

the princess calling; and the glamour of royalty encompassed him,something a human finds hard to resist,

Meanwhile another messenger had entered the chamber of finance and had gone. On the minister's desk lay a

"Treason and treachery! It has at this moment been ascertained that, while pretending to be our agents in

securing the consols, M. Everard Co. now refuse to deliver them into the custody of Baron von Rumpf, as

agreed, and further, that M. Everard Co. are bankers and attorneys to his Excellency the British minister. He

With his eyes riveted on these words, the minister of finance, huddled in his chair, had fallen into a profound

One fine September morning in a year the date of which is of no particular importance, a man stepped out of

a secondclass carriage on to the canopied platform of the railway terminus in the ancient and picturesque

city of Bleiberg. He yawned, shook himself, and stretched his arms and legs, relieved to find that the tedious

He stood some inches above the average height, and was built up in a manner that suggested the handiwork

of a British drill master, his figure being both muscular and symmetrical. Besides, there was on his skin that

rich brown shadow which is the result only of the forces of the sun and wind, a life in the open air. This color

gave peculiar emphasis to the yellow hair and mustache. His face was not handsome, if one accept the Greek

profile as a model of manly beauty, but it was cleanly and boldly cut, healthful, strong and purposeful, based

on determined jaws and a chin which would have been obstinate but for the presence of a kindly mouth.

A guard deposited at his feet a new hatbox, a battered traveling bag and two gun cases which also gave

evidence of rough usage. The luggage was literally covered with mutilated square and oblong slips of paper

of many colors, on which were printed the advertisements of farsighted hotel keepers all the way from

There was nothing to be seen, however, indicative of the traveler's name. He surveyed his surroundings with

lively interest shining in his gray eyes, one of which peered through a monocle encircled by a thin rim of

tortoise shell. He watched the fussy customs officials, who, by some strange mischance, overlooked his

"Find me a cab," he said to the attentive guard, who, with an eye to the main chance, had waved off the

"At once, my lord;" and the guard, as he stooped and lifted the luggage, did not see the start which this

appellation caused the stranger to make, but who, after a moment, was convinced that the guard had given

him the title merely out of politeness. The guard placed the traps inside of one of the many vehicles stationed

at the street exit of the terminus. He was an intelligent and deductive servant.

The traveler was some noted English lord who had come to Bleiberg to shoot the famed golden pheasant, and

had secured a secondclass compartment in order to demonstrate his incognito. Persons who traveled

secondclass usually did so to save money; yet this tall Englishman, since the train departed from Vienna,

had almost doubled in gratuities the sum paid for his ticket. The guard stood respectfully at the door of the

cab, doffed his cap, into which a memento was dropped, and went along about his business.

The Englishman slammed the door, the jehu cracked his whip, and a moment later the hoarse breathings of

the motionless engines became lost in the sharper noises of the city carts. The unknown leaned against the

faded cushions, curled his mustache, and smiled as if well satisfied with events. It is quite certain that his

sense of ease and security would have been somewhat disturbed had he known that another cab was close on

the track of his, and that its occupant, an officer of the city gendarmerie, alternately smiled and frowned as

one does who floats between conviction and uncertainty. At length the two vehicles turned into the

Konigstrasse, the principal thoroughfare of the capital, and here the Englishman's cab came to a stand. The

The driver shrugged, remounted his box, and drove on. The Grand Hotel was clean enough and respectable,

but that was all that could be said in its favor. He wondered if the Englishman would haggle over the fare.

Englishmen generally did. He was agreeably disappointed, however, when, on arriving at the mean hostelry,

his passenger plunged a hand into a pocket and produced three FranzJosef florins.

"You may have these," he said, "for the trouble of having them exchanged into crowns."

As he whipped up, the philosophical cabman mused that these tourists were beyond the pale of his

understanding. With a pocket full of money, and to put up at the Grand! Why not the Continental, which lay

close to the Werter See, the palaces, the royal and public gardens? It was at the Continental that the fine

ladies and gentlemen from Vienna, and Innsbruck, and Munich, and Belgrade, resided during the autumn

months. But the Grand ach! it was in the heart of the shops and markets, and within a stone's throw of that

gloomy pile of granite designated in the various guide books as the University of Bleiberg.

The Englishman had some difficulty in finding a pen that would write, and the ink was oily, and the

guestbook was not at the proper angle. At last he managed to form the letters of his name, which was John

Hamilton. After some deliberation, he followed this with "England." The proprietor, who acted as his own

clerk, drew the book toward him, and after some time, deciphered the cabalistic signs.

"Yes; I am here for a few days' shooting. Can you find me a man to act as guide?"

Then he proceeded up the stairs to the room assigned to him. The smell of garlic which pervaded the air

caused him to make a grimace. Once alone in the room, he looked about. There was neither soap nor towel,

but there was a card which stated that the same could be purchased at the office. He laughed. A pitcher of

water and a bowl stood on a small table, which, by the presence of a mirror (that could not in truth reflect

anything but light and darkness), served as a dresser. These he used to good advantage, drying his face and

hands on the white counterpane of the bed, and laughing quietly as he did so. Next he lit a pipe, whose

capacity for tobacco was rather less than that of a lady's thimble, sat in a chair by the window, smoked

It was yet early in the morning; sellers of vegetables, men and women peasants, with bare legs and wooden

shoes, driving shaggy Servian ponies attached to low, cumbersome carts, passed and repassed, to and from

the markets. A gendarme, leaning the weight of his shoulder on the guard of a police saber, rested against the

corner of a wine shop across the way. Students, wearing squat caps with vizors, sauntered indolently along,

twirling canes and ogling all who wore petticoats. Occasionally the bright uniform of a royal cuirassier

flashed by; and the Englishman would lean over the sill and gaze after him, nodding his head in approval

In the meantime the gendarme, who followed him from the station, had entered the hotel, hastily glanced at

"Well, here we are," mused the Englishman, pressing his thumb into the bowl of his pipe. "The affair

promises some excitement. Tomorrow will be the sixth; on the twentieth it will be a closed incident, as the

diplomats would say. I don't know what brought me here so far ahead of time. I suppose I must look out for a

crack on the head from some one I don't know, but who knows me so deuced well that he has hunted me in

India and England, first with fine bribes, then with threats." He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of

the gun cases. "It was a capital idea, otherwise a certain ubiquitous customs official, who lies in wait for the

unwary at the frontier, would now be an inmate of a hospital. To have lived thirtyfive years, and to have

ground out thirteen of them in her Majesty's, is to have acquired a certain disdain for danger, even when it is

masked. I am curious to see how far these threats will go. It will take a clever man to trap me. The incognito

is a fort. By the way, I wonder how the inspectors at the station came to overlook my traps? Strange,

"Come in!" answered the Englishman, wheeling his chair, but making no effort to rise. "Come in!"

The door swung in, and there entered a short, spectacled man in dark gray clothes which fairly bristled with

"Monsieur Hamilton's pardon," the inspector began, speaking in French, "but with your permission I shall

"Now do you know, mon ami," replied the Englishman, "that Monsieur Hamilton will not permit you to gaze

"But, Monsieur," cried the astonished official, to whom non complaisance in the matter of inspection was

unprecedented, "you certainly will not put any obstacle in the path of my duty!"

"Your duty, Monsieur the Spectacles, is to inspect at the station. There your assistants refused to award me

"Monsieur forgets," sternly; "it is the law. Is it possible that I shall be forced to call in the gendarmes to assist

"I dare say it is, on your part," admitted the Englishman, polishing the bowl of his pipe against the side of his

nose. "You had best go at once. If you do not, I shall take you by the nape of your Bleibergian neck and kick

you down the stairs. I have every assurance of my privileges. The law here, unless it has changed within the

past hour, requires inspection at the frontier, and at the capital; but your jurisdiction does not extend beyond

"Good day! How will you go, by the stairs or by the window? I but wait!" an idea coming to him which

caused him to reflect on the possible outcome of violence done to a government official, who, perhaps, was

discharging his peculiar duty at the orders of superiors. He walked swiftly to the door and slid the bolt, to the

terror of the inspector, on whose brow drops of perspiration began to gather. "Now," opening the hat box and

taking out a silk hat, "this is a hat, purchased in Paris at Cook's. There is nothing in the lining but felt. Look

into the box; nothing. Take out your book and follow me closely," he continued, dividing the traveling bag

"But, Monsieur!" remonstrated the inspector, who did not enjoy this infringement of his prerogatives; his was

"Be still and follow me," and the Englishman went on with the inventory. "There!" when he had done, "not a

dutiable thing except this GermanScotch whisky, and that is so bad that I give it to you rather than pay duty.

What next? My passports? Here they are, absolutely flawless, vised by the authorities in Vienna."

The slips crackled in the fluttering fingers of the inspector. "They are as you say, Monsieur," he said,

"Ah!" The Englishman selected two loaded shells, drew a gun from the case, threw up the breech and

rammed in the shells. Then he extended the weapon to within an inch of the terrified inspector's nose. "Now,

The fellow sank halffainting into a chair. "Mon Dieu, Monsieur, would you kill me who have a family?"

"What's a customs inspector, more or less?" asked the terrible islander, laughing. "I advise you not to ask me

to let you look into the other gun, out of consideration for your family. It has hair triggers, and my fingers

"Monsieur, Monsieur, you do wrong to trifle with the law. I shall be obliged to report you. You will be

"Nothing of the kind," was the retort. "I have only to inform the British minister how remiss you were in your

obligations. I should go free, whereas you would be discharged. But what I demand to know is, what the devil

"I am simply obeying orders," answered the inspector, wiping his forehead. "It is not a farce, as Monsieur

will find." Then, as if to excuse this implied threat: "Will Monsieur please point the gun the other way?"

"We are lookingthat is, they are lookingO, Monsieur, it is impossible for me to disclose to you my

"What and whom were you expecting?" demanded the Englishman. "You shall not leave this room till you

"The lord!" laughing. "Does the lord visit Bleiberg often, then, that you prepare this sort of a reception? And

"As to that, Monsieur," with a wonder why this man laughed, "I know no more than you. But I do know that

for the past month every Englishman has been subjected to this surveillance, and has submitted with more

"Yes, Monsieur. It is the order of the minister of police. I know not why." The natural color was returning to

"This is a fine country, I must say. At least the king should acquaint his visitors with the true cause of this

"The king?" The inspector raised a shoulder and spread his hands. "The king is a paralytic, Monsieur, and has

"That was years ago, Monsieur. For three years he has been helpless and bedridden. The archbishop is the

"This is very sad. I suppose it would be impossible for strangers to see him now."

"An audience?" a sparkle behind the spectacles. "Is your business with the king, Monsieur?"

"My business is mine," shortly. "I am only a tourist, and should have liked to see the king from mere

curiosity. However, had you explained all this to me, I should not have caused you so many gray hairs."

"True," the Englishman replied soberly. He began to think that he had been over hasty in asserting his

privileges. "But all this has nothing to do with me. My name is John Hamilton. See, it is engraved on the

stock of the gun," catching it up and holding it under the spectacled eyes, which still observed it with some

trepidation. "That is the name in my passports, in the book down stairs, in the lining of my hat. I am sorry,

since you were only obeying orders, that my rough play has caused you alarm." He unbolted the door. "Good

The inspector left the room as swiftly as his short legs could carry him, ignoring the ethics of common

politeness. As he stumbled down the stairs he cursed the minister of police for requiring this spy work of him,

and not informing him why it was done. Ah, these cursed Anglais from Angleterre! They were all alike, and

this one was the worst he had ever encountered. And those ugly black orifices in the gun! Peste! He would

As to the Englishman, he stood in the center of the room and scratched his head. "Hang it, I've made an ass of

myself. That blockhead will have the gendarmes about my ears. If they arrest me there will be the devil to

pay. The Lord and the Baronet Fitzgerald!" he repeated. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and fell to

laughing again. "Confound these picturebook kingdoms! They always take themselves so seriously. Well, if

the gendarmes call this afternoon I'll not be at home. No, thank you. I shall be hunting pheasants."

And thereat he set to work cleaning the gun which had all but prostrated the inspector. Soon the room smelled

of oiled rags and tobacco. Sometimes the worker whistled softly. Sometimes he let the gun fall against his

knee, and stared dreamily through the window at the flight of the ragged clouds. Again, he would shake his

head, as if there were something which he failed to understand. Half an hour passed, when again some one

But it was only the proprietor of the hotel. "Asking Herr's pardon," he said, "for this intrusion, but I have

secured a man for you. I have the honor to recommend Johann Kopf as a good guide and hunter."

Johann Kopf proved to be a young German with a round, ruddy face, which was so innocent of guile as to be

out of harmony with the shrewd, piercing black eyes looking out of it. The Englishman eyed him

"There is none better hereabout," answered Johann, twirling his cap with noticeably white fingers. It was only

in after days that the Englishman appreciated the full significance of this answer.

"Humph!" The Englishman gave a final glance into the shining tubes of the gun, snapped the breach, and

slipped it into the case. "You'll do. Return to the office; I'll be down presently."

"That is simple," said Johann. The fleeting, imperceptible smile did not convict his eyes of false keenness.

He bowed out. When the door closed the Englishman waited until the sound of retreating steps failed. Then

he took the gun case which he had not yet opened, and thrust it under the mattress of the bed.

"Johann," he said, as he put on a soft hat and drew a cane from the straps of the traveling bag, "you will

certainly precede me in our hunting expeditions. I do not like your eyes; they are not at home in your boyish

The city of Bleiberg lay on a hill and in the valleys which fell away to the east and west. It was divided into

two towns, the upper and the lower. The upper town and that part which lay on the shores of the Werter See

was the modern and fashionable district. It was here that the king and the archbishop had their palaces and the

wealthy their brick and stone. The public park skirted the lake, and was patterned after those fine gardens

which add so much to the picturesqueness of Vienna and Berlin. There were wide gravel paths and long

avenues of lofty chestnuts and lindens, iron benches, fountains and winding flower beds. The park, the

palaces, and the Continental Hotel enclosed a public square, paved with asphalt, called the

Hohenstaufenplatz, in the center of which rose a large marble fountain of several streams, guarded by huge

bronze wolves. Here, too, were iron benches which were, for the most part, the meetingplace of the

nursemaids. Carriages were allowed to make the circuit, but not to obstruct the way.

The Konigstrasse began at the Platz, divided the city, and wound away southward, merging into the highway

which continued to the Thalian Alps, some thirty miles distant. The palaces were at the southeast corner of

the Platz, first the king's, then the archbishop's. The private gardens of each ran into the lake. Directly across

from the palaces stood the cathedral, a relic of five centuries gone. On the northwest corner stood the

Continental Hotel, with terrace and parapet at the water's edge, and a delightful openair cafe facing the

Platz. September and October were prosperous months in Bleiberg. Fashionable people who desired quiet

made Bleiberg an objective point. The pheasants were plump, there were boars, gray wolves, and not

infrequently Monsieur Fourpaws of the shaggy coat wandered across from the Carpathians.

As to the lower town, it was given over to the shops and markets, the barracks, the university, and the

Rathhaus, which served as the house of the Diet. It was full of narrow streets and quaint dwellings.

Up the Konigstrasse the guide led the Englishman, who nodded whenever the voluble chatter of the German

pleased him. When they began the descent of the hill, the vista which opened before them drew from the

Englishman an ejaculation of delight. There lay the lake, like a bright new coin in a green purse; the light of

the sun broke on the white buildings and flashed from the windows; and the lawns twinkled like emeralds.

"Aye, that it did; and the king is being impressed with that fact every day. There are few such fine palaces

outside of first class kingdoms. The cathedral there was erected at the desire of a pope, born five hundred

years ago. It is full of romance. There is to be a grand wedding there on the twentieth of this month. That is

why there are so many fashionable people at the hotels. The crown prince of Carnavia, which is the large

kingdom just east of us, is to wed the Princess Alexia, the daughter of the king."

"), I meant nothing," said the Englishman, jerking back his shoulders; "I had in mind another affair."

There was a flash in Johann's eyes, but he subdued it before the Englishman was aware of its presence.

"However," said Johann, "there is something strange. The prince was to have arrived a week ago to complete

the final arrangements for the wedding. His suite has been here a week, but no sign of his Highness. He

stopped over a train at Ehrenstein to visit for a few hours a friend of the king, his father. Since then nothing

has been heard from him. The king, it is said, fears that some accident has happened to him. Carnavia is also

disturbed over this disappearance. Some whisper of a beautiful peasant girl. Who can say?"

"Leopold expects to strengthen his throne by the alliance. But" Johann's mouth closed and his tongue

pushed out his cheek. "There will be some fine doings in the good city of Bleiberg before the month is gone.

The minister from the duchy has been given his passports. Every one concedes that trouble is likely to ensue.

"Yes; he is not a man to submit to accusations without making a disagreeable defense."

"Dead four years? So much for man and his futile dreams. Dead four years," absently.

"He was thrown from his horse and killed. But the duchess lives, and she is worthy of her sire. Eh, Herr, there

is a woman for you! She should sit on this throne; it is hers by right. These Osians are aliens and were forced

"That is my business, Herr." Johann laughed. "I am a socialist, and occasionally harangue for the reds. And

sometimes, when I am in need of money, I find myself in the employ of the police."

The muscles of the Englishman's jaws hardened, then they relaxed. The expression on the face of his guide

"O! but I could sell some fine secrets to the Osians had they money to pay. Ach! but what is the use? The

king has no money; he is on the verge of bankruptcy, and this pretty bit of scenery is the cause of it."

"So you are a socialist?" said the Englishman, passing over Johann's declamatory confidences.

"Go to!" laughed the Englishman, "you aren't even a second cousin to me. But stay, what place is this we are

passing?" indicating with his cane a redbrick mansion which was fronted by broad English lawns and

The Englishman stopped and stared, unconscious of the close scrutiny of the guide. His eyes traveled up the

wide flags leading to the veranda, and he drew a picture of a square shouldered old man tramping backward

and forward, the wind tangling his thin white hair, his hands behind his back, his chin in his collar and at his

heels a white bulldog. Rapidly another picture came. It was an English scene. And the echo of a voice fell on

his ears. "My way and the freedom of the house and the key to the purse; your way and a closed door while I

live. You can go, but you can not come back. You have decided? Yes? Then good morning." Thirteen years,

thirteen years! He had sacrificed the freedom of the house and the key to the purse, the kind eyes and the

warm pressure of that old hand. And for what? Starvation in the deserts, plenty of scars and little of thanks,

And now the kind eyes were closed and the warm hand cold. O, to recall the vanished face, the silent voice,

the misspent years, the April days and their illusions! The Englishman took the monocle from his eye and

"Lord Fitzgerald, the British minister. He and Leopold were close friends." Johann's investigating gaze went

"Ah; a compatriot of mine," he said. Inwardly he mused: "This guide is watching me; let him catch me if he

They crossed the Strasse and traversed the walk at the side of the palace enclosures. The Englishman

aimlessly trailed his cane along the green pickets of the fence till they ended in a stone arch which rose high

over the driveway. The gates were open, and coming toward the two wanderers as they stood at the curb

rolled the royal barouche, on each side of which rode a mounted cuirassier, sashed and helmeted. The

"Look, Herr!" cried Johann, rousing the other by a pull at the sleeve. "Look!" Socialist though he claimed to

In the barouche, leaning back among the black velvet cushions, her face mellowed by the shade of a small

parasol, was a young woman of nineteen or twenty, as beautiful as a da Vinci freshly conceived. The

Englishman saw a pair of grave dark eyes which, in the passing, met his and held them. He caught his breath.

Afterward the Englishman remembered seeing a white dog lying on the opposite seat.

Maurice Carewe, attached to the American legation in Vienna, leaned against the stone parapet which

separated the terraced promenade of the Continental Hotel from the Werter See, and wondered what had

He had left behind him the glory of September in Vienna, a city second only to Paris in fashion and gaiety;

Vienna, with its inimitable bands, its incomparable gardens, its military maneuvers, its salons, its charming

women; and all for a fool's errand. His Excellency was to blame. He had casually dropped the remark that the

duchy's minister, Baron von Rumpf, had been given his passports as a persona non grata by the chancellor of

the kingdom, and that a declaration of war was likely to follow. Maurice's dormant love of journalistic

inquiry had become aroused, and he had asked permission to investigate the affair, a favor readily granted to

But here he was, on the scene, and nobody knew anything, and nobody could tell anything. The duchess had

remained silent. Not unnaturally he wished himself back in Vienna. There were no court fetes in the city of

Bleiberg. The king's condition was too grave to permit them. And, besides, there had been no real court in

Bleiberg for the space of ten years, so he was told. Those solemn affairs of the archbishop's, given once the

week for the benefit of the corps diplomatique, were dull and spiritless. Her Royal Highness was seldom

seen, save when she drove through the streets. Persons who remembered the reign before told what a mad,

gay court it had been. Now it was funereal. The youth and beauty of Bleiberg held a court of its own. Royalty

A strange capital, indeed, Maurice reflected, as he gazed down into the cool, brown water. He regretted his

caprice. There were pretty women in Vienna. Some of them belonged to the American colony. They danced

well, they sang and played and rode. He had taught some of them how to fence, and he could not remember

the times he had been "buttoned" while paying too much attention to their lips and eyes. For Maurice loved a

thing of beauty, were it a woman, a horse or a Mediterranean sunset. What a difference between these two

years in Vienna and that year in Calcutta! He never would forget the dingy office, with its tarnished sign, "U.

He cast a pebble into the lake, and watched the ripples roll away and disappear, and ruminated on a life full of

color and vicissitude. He remembered the Arizona days, the endless burning sand, the dull routine of a

cavalry trooper, the lithe brown bodies of the Apaches, the first skirmish and the last. From a soldier he had

turned journalist, tramped the streets of Washington in rain and shine, living as a man lived who must.

One day his star had shot up from the nadir of obscurity, not very far, but enough to bring his versatility

under the notice of the discerning Secretary of State, who, having been a friend of the father, offered the son a

berth in the diplomatic corps. A consulate in a South American republic, during a revolutionary crisis, where

he had shown consummate skill in avoiding political complications (and where, by a shrewd speculation in

gold, he had feathered his nest for his declining years), proved that the continual incertitude of a journalistic

career is a fine basis for diplomatic work. From South America he had gone to Calcutta, thence to Austria.

He was only twentynine, which age in some is youth. He possessed an old man's wisdom and a boy's

exuberance of spirits. He laughed whenever he could; to him life was a panorama of vivid pictures, the world

a vast theater to which somehow he had gained admission. His beardless countenance had deceived more

than one finished diplomat, for it was difficult to believe that behind it lay an earnest purpose and a daring

courage. If he bragged a little, quizzed graybeards, sought strange places, sported with convention, and

eluded women, it was due to his restlessness. Yet, he had the secretiveness of sand; he absorbed, but he

revealed nothing. He knew his friends; they thought they knew him. It was his delight to have women think

him a butterfly, men write him down a fool; it covered up his real desires and left him free.

What cynicism he had was mellowed by a fanciful humor. Whether with steel or with words, he was a master

of fence; and if at times some one got under his guard, that some one knew it not. To let your enemy see that

he has hit you is to give him confidence. He saw humor where no one else saw it, and tragedy where it was

not suspected. He was one of those rare individuals who, when the opportunity of chance refuses to come,

"Germany and Austria are great countries," he mused, lighting a cigar. "Every hundredth man is a king, one

in fifty is a duke, every tenth man is a prince, and one can not take a corner without bumping into a count or a

baron. Even the hotel waiters are disquieting; there is that embarrassing atmosphere about them which

suggests nobility in durance vile. As for me, I prefer Kentucky, where every man is a colonel, and you never

make a mistake. And these kingdoms!" He indulged in subdued laughter. "They are always like comic operas.

I find myself looking around every moment for the merry villagers so happy and so gay (at fifteen dollars the

week), the eternal innkeeper and the perennial soubrette his daughter, the low comedian and the

"I'd rather talk five minutes to a pretty woman than eat stuffed pheasants the year around, and the stuffed

pheasant is about all Bleiberg can boast of. Well, here goes for a voyage of discovery;" and he passed down

the stone steps to the pier, quite unconscious of the admiring glances of the women who fluttered back and

It was four o'clock in the afternoon; a fresh wind redolent of pine and resin blew across the lake. Maurice

climbed into a boat and pulled away with a strong, swift stroke, enjoying the liberation of his muscles. A

quarter of a mile out he let the oars drift and took his bearings. He saw the private gardens of the king and the

archbishop, and, convinced that a closer view would afford him entertainment, he caught up the oars again

The royal gardens ran directly into the water, while those of the archbishop were protected by a wall of brick

five or six feet in height, in the center of which was a gate opening on the water. Behind the gate was a small

boat dock. Maurice plied the oars vigorously. He skirted the royal gardens, and the smell of newly mown

lawns filled the air. Soon he was gliding along the sides of the mossgrown walls. A bird chirped in the

overhanging boughs. He was about to cast loose the oars again, when the boat was brought to a violent stop.

A few yards waterward from the gate there lay, hidden in the shadowed water, a sunken pier. On one of the

Maurice was tumbled into the bow of the boat, which began rapidly to fill. First he swore, then he laughed,

for he was possessed of infinite good humor. The only thing left for him to do was to swim for the gate. With

a rueful glance at his thin clothes, he dropped himself over the side of the wreck and struck out toward the

gate. The water, having its source from the snowclad mountains, was icy. He was glad enough to grasp the

lower bars of the gate and draw himself up. He was on the point of climbing over, when a picture presented

Seated on a bench made of twisted vine was a young girl. She held in her hand a book, but she was not

reading it. She was scanning the unwritten pages of some reverie; her eyes, dark, large and wistful, were

holding communion with the god of dreams. A wisp of hair, glossy as coal, trembled against a cheek white as

At her side, blinking in the last rays of the warm sun, sat a bulldog, toothless and old. Now and then a sear

leaf, falling in a zigzag course, rustled past his ears, and he would shake his head as if he, too, were

dreaming and the leaves disturbed him. All at once he sniffed, his ears stood forward, and a low growl broke

the enchantment. The girl, on discovering Maurice, closed the book and rose. The dog, still growling, jumped

"Mademoiselle," he said, "pardon this intrusion, but my boat has met with an accident."

"That is true," replied Maurice, his teeth beginning to knock together. "I was forced to swim. If you will

kindly open the gate and guide me to the street, I shall be much obliged to you."

The gate swung outward, and in a moment Maurice was on dry land, or the next thing to it, which was the

"O! And you might have been drowned," compassion lighting her beautiful eyes. "Sit down on the bench,

Monsieur, for you must be weak. And it was that sunken pier? I shall speak to Monseigneur; he must have it

removed. Bull, stop growling; you are very impolite; the gentleman is in distress."

Maurice sat down, not because he was weak, but because the desire to gain the street had suddenly subsided.

Who was this girl who could say "must" to the formidable prelate? His quick eye noticed that she showed no

sign of embarrassment. Indeed, she impressed him as one who was superior to that petty disturbance of

collected thought. Somehow it seemed to him, as she stood there looking down at him, that he, too, should be

standing. But she put forth a hand with gentle insistence when he made as though to rise. What an exquisite

face, he thought. Against the whiteness of her skin her lips burned like poppy petals. Innocent, inquisitive

eyes smiled gently, eyes in whose tranquil depths lay the glory of the world, asleep. Presently a color, faint

and fugitive, dimmed the whiteness of her cheeks. Maurice, conscious of his rudeness and of a warmth in his

"It is Maurice Carewe. I am living in Vienna. I came to Bleiberg for pleasure, but the first day has not been

"Maurice Carewe," slowly repeating the full name as if to imprint it on her memory. "You are English?"

Her teeth gleamed. "Yes, I have heard of them. But you do not appear so very dreadful; though at present you

"It would take me ever so long to tell you about it, it is such a great country."

"You are a patriot!" clapping her hands. "No other country is so fine and large and great as your own. But tell

"Well," with fun in his eyes, "it is my opinion that I could hide Austria in my country so thoroughly that

nobody would ever be able to find it again." He wondered how she would accept this statement.

She lifted her chin and laughed, and the bulldog wagged his tail, as he always did when mirth touched her. He

jumped up beside Maurice and looked into his face. Maurice patted his broad head, and he submitted. The

"But I do," said Maurice; "perhaps he understands that, and comes halfway. But it is rather strange to see a

"That accounts for it." He was experiencing a deal of cold, but he dared not mention it. "And may I ask your

"I am sure nothing could do that," he declared earnestly. Had he been thinking of aught but her eyes he might

She surveyed him with critical eyes. She saw a cleanshaven face, brown, handsome and eager, merry blue

eyes, a chin firm and aggressive, a mischievous mouth, a forehead which showed the man of thought, a slim

athletic form which showed the man of action all of which combined to produce that indescribable air

"It is Alexia," she said, after some hesitation, watching him closely to observe the effect.

He could not keep his eyes from hers. "They say that she is a very lonely princess."

"So lonely." And the coquetry faded from her eyes as her glance wandered waterward and became fixed on

Maurice was growing colder and colder, but he did not mind. He had wished for some woman to talk to; his

wish had been granted. "I feel sorry for her, if what they say is true," having no other words.

"That she and her father have been socially ostracized. I should be proud to be her friend." Once the words

were gone from him, he saw their silliness. "A presumptuous statement," he added; "I am an obscure

"Friendship, Monsieur, is a thing we all should prize, all the more so when it is disinterested."

He said rapidly, for fear she might hear his teeth chatter: "They say she is very beautiful. Tell me what she is

"I am no judge of what men call beauty. As to her character, I believe I may recommend that. She is good."

He was sure that merriment twitched the corners of her lips, and he grew thoughtful. "Alexia. Is that not her

"Yes, Monsieur; we have the same names." Her eyes fell, and she began to finger the pages of the book.

She did not reply, and together they walked up the path. The plants were dying, and the odor of decay

hovered about them. Splashes of rich vermilion crowned the treetops, leaves of gold, russet and faded green

rustled on the ground. The sun was gone behind the hills, the lake was tinted with salmon and dun, and

Maurice (who honestly would have liked to run) was turning purple, not from atmospheric effect, but from

the partly congealed state of his blood. Already he was thinking that his adventure had turned out rather well.

It was but a simple task for a man of his imagination to construct a pretty romance, with a kingdom for a

background. A maid of honor, perhaps; no matter, he would find means for future communication. A glamour

As to the girl, who had scarce spoken to a dozen young men in her life, she was comparing four faces; one of

a visionary character of which she had dreamed for ten years, and three which had recently entered into the

small circle of her affairs. It was little pleasure to her to talk to those bald diplomats, who were always saying

what they did not mean, and meaning what they did not say. And the young officers in the palace never

What a monotonous life it was! She was like a bird in a cage, ever longing for freedom, not of the air, but of

impulse. To be permitted to yield to the impulses of the heart! What a delightful thought that was! But she,

she seemed apart from all which was desirable to youth. Women courtesied to her, men touched their hats;

but homage was not what she wanted. To be free, that was all; to come and go at will; to laugh and to sing.

She was to wed a man on whom she looked with indifference, but wed him she must; it was written. A toy of

ambition, she was neither more nor less. Ah, to be as her maids, not royal, but free. Of the three new faces

one belonged to the man whom she was to wed; another was a tall, lighthaired man whom she had seen

from her carriage; the last walked by her side. And somehow, the visionary face, the faces of the man whom

she was to wed and the lighthaired man suddenly grew indistinct. She glanced from the corner of her eyes at

Maurice, but meeting his glance, in which lay something that caused her uneasiness, her gaze dropped to the

"I shall be pleased to tell her Highness that a stranger, who has not met her, who does not even suspect her

"O, Mademoiselle," he cried in alarm, "that desire was expressed in confidence."

"I know it. It is for that very reason I wish her to know. Have no fear, Monsieur;" and she laughed without

Close at hand Maurice discovered a cuirassier, who, on seeing them, saluted and stood attention. Maurice was

"Well, then, Monsieur Carewe has met with an accident; please escort him to the gate. I trust you will not

She retraced her steps down the path. The bulldog followed. Once he looked back at Maurice, and stopped as

if undecided, then went on. Maurice stared at the figure of the girl unfil it vanished behind a clump of rose

They arrived at the gate in silence. The cuirassier raised the bar, touched his helmet, and said, with something

like an amused twinkle in his eyes: "Would Monsieur like to borrow my helmet for a space?"

Maurice put up a hand to his watersoaked hair, and gave an ejaculation of dismay. He had forgotten all

about his hat, which was by now, inall probabilities, at the bottom of the lake.

Maurice threw back his head and laughed, and the cuirassier caught the infection.

"However, there is some compensation for the hat," said the cuirassier, straightening his helmet. "You are the

first stranger who has spoken to her Highness this many a day. Did the dog take to your calves? Well, never

mind; he has no teeth. It was only day before yesterday that the Marshal swore he'd have the dog shot. Poor

dog! He is growing blind, too, or he'd never have risked his gums on the Marshal, who is all shins. If you will

"Don't trouble yourself," laughed Maurice. "What I need is not a hat, but a towel, and I'll get that at the hotel.

Maurice passed into the street. "Her Royal Highness!" he muttered. "The crown princess, and I never

suspected. Her name is Alexia, and she serves the princess whenever she can! Maurice, you are an ass!"

Having arrived at this conclusion, and brushing the dank hair from his eyes, he thrust his hands into his

oozing pockets, and proceeded across the square toward the Continental, wondering if there was a rear

entrance. Happily the adventure absorbed all his thoughts. He was quite unobservant of the marked attention

bestowed on him. Carriages filled the Strasse, and many persons moved along the walks. It was the

promenade hour. The water, which still dripped from his clothes and trickled from his shoes, left a

conspicuous trail behind; and this alone, without the absence of a hat, would have made him the object of

A gendarme stared at him, but seeing that he walked straight, said nothing. Maurice, however, was serenely

unaware of what was passing around him. He did not notice even the tall, broad shouldered man who, with a

gun under his arm, brushed past him, followed by a roundfaced German over whose back was slung a

gamebag. The man with the gun was also oblivious of his surroundings. He bumped into several persons,

who scowled at him, but offered no remonstrance after having taken his measure. The German put his pipe

"We've done pretty good work these two days," went on the German; but as the other appeared not to have

When Maurice reached the hotel cafe he left an order for a cognac to be sent to his room, whither he repaired

"I wonder what sort of a man that crown prince is? Now, if I were he, an army could not keep me away from

Bleiberg. Either he is no judge of beauty, or the peasant girls hereabout are something extraordinary. Pshaw!

a man always makes an ass of himself on his wedding eve; the crown prince is simply starting in early. I

believe I'll hang on here till the wedding day; a royal marriage is one of those things which I have yet to see. I

have a fortnight or more to knock around in. I should like to know what the duchess will eventually do."

While the absentminded hunter strode down toward the lower town, and Maurice sipped his cognac, the

king lay in his bed in the palace and aimlessly fingered the counterpane. There was now no beauty in his face.

It was furrowed and pale, and an endless fever burned in the sunken eyeseyes like coals, which suddenly

The archbishop nor the chancellor could see anything in the dim corners of the royal bed chamber, but he

could. It was the mocking finger of death, and it was leveled at him. Spring had come, and summer and

autumn and winter, and spring again, but he had not wandered through the green fields, except in dreams, and

the byways he loved knew him no more. Ah, to sit still like a spectator and to see the world pass by! To be a

part of it, and yet not of it! To see the glory of strength and vigor just beyond one's grasp, the staffs to lean on

crumble to the touch, and the stars of hope fade away one by one from the firmament of one's dreams! Here

Day by day time pressed him on toward the inevitable. No human hand could stay him. He could think, but

he could not act. He could move, but he could not stand nor walk. And that philosophy which had in other

days sustained him was shattered and threadbare. He was dead, yet he lived. Fate has so many delicate

He had tried to make his people love him, only to acquire their hate. He had reduced taxation, only to be

scorned. He had made the city beautiful, only to be cursed. A paralytic, the theme of ribald verse, the butt of

The ingratitude of kings bites not half so deep as the ingratitude of the people. Tears filled his eyes, and he

fumbled his lips. There were only two bright spots in his futile life. The first was his daughter, who read to

him, who was the first in the morning to greet him and last at night to leave him. The second was the evening

hour when the archbishop and the chancellor came in to discuss the affairs of state.

"No, Sire," answered the chancellor. "The matter is altogether mysterious. The police can find no trace of

him. He left Carnavia for Bleiberg; he stopped at Ehrenstein, directed his suite to proceed; there, all ends. The

ambassador from Carnavia approached me today. He scouts the idea of a peasant girl, and hinted at other

"Yes," said the king, "there is something behind all this. Frederick is not a youth of peccadilloes. Something

has happened to him. But God send him safe and sound to us, so much depends on him. And Alexia?"

The prelate shook his head sadly. "We have just been made acquainted with his death. God rest his kindly

"But we shall hear from his son within a few days," continued the prelate, taking the king's hand in his own.

"My son, cease to worry. Alexia's future is in good hands. I have confidence that the public debt will be

"Or renewed," said the chancellor. "Your Majesty must not forget that Prince Frederick sacrifices his own

private fortune to adjust our indebtedness. That is the wedding gift which he offers to her Highness. One way

"O!" cried the king, "I had forgotten that magnanimity. His disappearance is no longer a mystery. He is

His auditors could not repress the start which this declaration caused them to make.

"Sire," said the chancellor, quietly, "princes are not assassinated these days. Our worry is perhaps all

needless. The prince is young, and sometimes youth flings off the bridle and runs away. But he loves her

The prelate and the statesman had different ideas in regard to the peasant girl. To the prelate a woman was an

unknown quantity, and he frowned. The statesman, who had once been young, knew a deal about woman,

"Sometimes, my friends," said the king, "I can see beyond the human glance. I hear the crumbling of walls.

But for that lonely child I could die in peace. The crown I wear is of lead; God hasten the day that lifts it from

my brow." When the king spoke again, he said: "And that insolent Von Rumpf is gone at last? I am easier. He

should have been sent about his business ten years ago. What does Madame the duchess say?"

"So little," answered the chancellor, "that I begin to distrust her silence. But she is a wise woman, though her

years are but five and twenty, and she will not make any foolish declaration of war which would only

"What is the fascination in these crowns of straw?" said the king to the prelate. "Ah, my father, you strive for

the crown to come; and yet your earnest but misguided efforts placed this earthly one on my head. You were

"Nay," and the prelate bent his head. "It was self that spoke, worldly aggrandizement. I wished God

forgive me!to administer not to the prince but to the king. I am punished. The crown has broken your life.

"And were not my eyes as dazzled by the crown as yours were by the robes? Why did we leave the green hills

of Osia? What destiny writes, fate must unfold. And oh, the dreams I had of being great! I am fiftyeight and

you are seventy. And look; I am a broken twig, and you tower above me like an ancient oak, and as strong."

"Sire, it is fairly quiet in the lower town. The native troops have been paid, and all signs of discontent abated.

The duchess can do nothing but replace von Rumpf. The Marshal is a straw in the wind; von Wallenstein and

Mollendorf, I hold a sword above their necks. Nearly half the Diet is with us. There has been some strange

meddling in the customs. Englishmen have brought me complaints, through the British legation, regarding

such inspections as were never before heard of in a country at peace. I consulted the chief inspector and he

affirmed the matter. He was under orders of the minister of police. It appears to me that a certain Englishman

is to be kept out of the country for reasons well known to us. I have suspended police power over the

customs. Ah, Sire, if you would but agree with Monseigneur to dismiss the cabinet."

"There is only one flaw," continued the chancellor. "This flaw is Colonel Beauvais, chief in command of the

cuirassiers, who in authority stands between the Marshal and General Kronau. I fear him. Why? Instinct. He

is too well informed of my projects for one thing; he laughs when I suggest in military affairs. Who is he? A

Frenchman, if one may trust to a name; an Austrian, if one may trust from whence he came, recommended by

the premier himself. He entered the cuirassiers as a Captain. You yourself, Sire, made him what he isthe

real military adviser of the kingdom. But what of his past? No one knows, unless it be von Wallenstein, his

intimate. I, for one, while I may be wrong, trust only those whose past I know, and even then only at

"Colonel Beauvais?" murmured the king. "I am sure that you are unjustly suspicious. How many times have I

leaned on his stout arm! He taught Alexia a thousand tricks of horse, so that today she rides as no other

woman in the kingdom rides. Would that I stood half so straight and looked at the world half so fearlessly. He

At this juncture the king's old valet came in with the evening meal; and soon after the prelate and the

"A year; perhaps only till tomorrow. Ah, had he but listened to me several years ago, all this would not have

come to pass. He would see nothing; he persisted in dreams. With the death of Josef he was convinced that

his enemies had ceased to be. Had he listened, I should have dismissed the cabinet, and found enough young

blood to answer my purposes; I should have surrounded him with a mercenary army two thousand strong; by

"They have robbed him, but you and I were permitted to do nothing. Where is the prosperity of which we

formerly boasted? I, too, hear crumbling walls. Yet, the son of this Englishman, whose strange freak is still

unaccountable, will come at the appointed time; I know the race. He will renew the loan for another ten years.

What a fancy! Lord Fitzgerald was an eccentric man. Given a purpose, he pursued it to the end, neither love

nor friendship, nor fear swerved him. Do you know that he made a vow that Duke Josef should never sit on

this throne, nor his descendants? What were five millions to him, if in giving them he realized the end? The

king would never explain the true cause of this Englishman's folly, but I know that it was based on revenge,

In the chamber of finance Colonel Beauvais leaned over the desk and perused the writing on a slip of paper

which the minister had given him. Enough daylight remained to permit the letters to stand out legibly. When

he had done the Colonel tossed back the missive, and the minister tore it into shreds and dropped them into

"So much for your pains," said Beauvais. "The spy, who has eaten up ten thousand crowns, is not worth his

salt. He has watched this man Hamilton for two days, been his guide in the hills, and yet learns nothing. And

"This day," replied the minister, "the police lost its jurisdiction over the customs. Complaints have been

"I warned you against this. The chancellor is a man to be respected, whatever his beliefs. I warned you and

Mollendorf of the police what the result would be. The chancellor has a hard hand when it falls. He was

always bold; now he is more so since he practically stands alone. In games of chance one always should play

"Well, then, I shall pass into the active. I shall watch this Englishman myself. He is likely to prove the agent.

Count, the time for waiting is gone. If the debt is liquidated or renewed and there is Prince Frederick to

keep in mind we shall have played and lost. Disgrace for you; for mewell, perhaps there is a power

behind me too strong. The chancellor? Pouf! I have no fear of him. But you who laugh at the archbishop"

"So you say. But he has dreams unknown to us. He has ceased to act; why? He is waiting for the curtain to

rise. Nothing escapes him; he is letting us go to what end we will, only, if we do not act at once, to draw us to

a sudden halt. Now to this meddling Englishman: we have offered him a millionfive millions for four. He

laughs. He is a millionaire. With characteristic bombast he declares that money has no charms. For six

months, since his father's death, we have hounded him, in vain. It is something I can not understand. What is

Leopold to these Englishmen that they risk a princely fortune to secure him his throne? Friendship? Bah,

"Not in France nor in Austria. But this man was an Englishman; they leave legacies of friendship."

The Colonel walked to the window and looked down into the gardens. He remained there for a time. Von

"We are crossing a chasm; a man stands in our way; as we can not go around him, we, being the stronger,

"Let us use the French meaning of the word `suppress.' And why not? Ambition, wherever it goes, leaves a

trail of blood. What is a human life in this game we play? A leaf, a grain of sand."

"But, since the prince promises to liquidate the debt, what matters it if the Englishman comes? It is all one

"Is a Marshal's baton so much, then, above your present position? You are practically the head of the army."

"A valiant army!" laughing; "five thousand men. Why, Madame the duchess has six thousand and three

"Her army of six thousand is an expedient; you can raise volunteers to the amount of ten thousand."

The minister dropped his gaze and began fingering the paper cutter. The Colonel's real purpose was still an

enigma to him. "Come, you have the confidence of the king, the friendship of her Royal Highness. What do

"You embarrass me. Questions? I should not like to lie to you. Batons were fine things when Louises and

Napoleons conferred them. I have thrown my dice into the common cup; let that be sufficient."

"Ah, count, that was never to be referred to. Be content with my brain and sword. And then, there is the old

saying, Give a man an ell, and look to your rod. We are all either jackals or lions, puppets or men behind the

booth. I am a lion." He rose, drew his saber halfway from the scabbard, and sent it slithering back. "In a

fortnight we put it to the touch to win or lose it all, as the poet says. Every man for himself, and let the

"And you? Is it for pure love of Madame the duchess that you risk your head? Come, as you say; admit that

you wish to see my hand without showing yours. A baton is not much for me, as you have hinted, but it is all

that was promised me. And you, if we win, will still be minister of finances? What is that maggot I see

behind your eyes? Is it not spelled `chancellor'? But, remember, Madame has friends to take care of in the

event of our success. We can not have all the spoils. To join the kingdom and the duchy will create new

offices, to be sure, but we can have only part of them. As to games, I shall, out of the kindness in my heart,

tell you that I am not playing two, but three. Guess them if you can. Next to the chancellorship is the embassy

to Vienna, and an embassy to Paris is to be created. Madame is a superior woman. Who knows?" with a smile

"No, count," the soldier replied. "I have what Balzac calls a thirst for a full life in a short space."

"Doubtless. But what is to become of our friends the Marshal and Mollendorf? What will be left for them?

Perhaps there will be a chamber of war, a chamber of the navy. As a naval minister the Marshal would be

nicely placed. There would be no expense of building ships or paying sailors, which would speak well for the

economy of the new government. The Marshal is old; we shall send him to Servia. At least the office will pay

both his vanity and purse to an extent equal to that of his present office. By the way, nothing has yet been

The minister of finance applied a match to the tapers. He held the burning match aloft and contemplated the

door through which the soldier had gone. The sting of the incipient flame aroused him.

"What," he mused aloud, as he arranged the papers on his desk, "is his third game?"

"It appears to me," said a voice from the wall behind, "that the same question arises in both our minds."

The minister wheeled his chair, his mouth and brows puckered in dismay. From a secret panel in the wall

there stepped forth a tall, thin, sourvisaged old man of military presence. He calmly sat down in the chair

"I had forgotten all about you, Marshal!" exclaimed the count, smiling uneasily.

"A statement which I am most ready to believe," replied old Marshal Kampf, with a glance which caused the

minister yet more uneasiness. "What impressed me among other things was, `But what is to become of our

friends the Marshal and Mollendorf?' I am Marshal; I am about to risk all for nothing. Why should I not

remain Marshal for the remainder of my days? It is a pleasant thing to go to Vienna once the year and to

witness the maneuvers, with an honorary position on the emperor's staff. To be Marshal here is to hold a

sinecure, yet it has its compensations. The uniforms, gray and gold, are handsome; it is an ostrich plume that

I wear in my chapeau de bras; the medals are of gold. My friend, it is the vanity of old age which forgives

not." And the Marshal, the bitterest tongue in all Bleiberg, reached over and picked up the cigar which lay by

the inkwells. He lit it at one of the tapers, and sank again into the chair. "Count, how many games are you

"My dear Marshal, it was not I who spoke of games. I am playing no game, save for the legitimate sovereign

"Disinterested man! The inference is, however, that, since you have not asked for anything, you have been

"Is it possible that you suspect me?" The cold eyes grew colder, and the thin lips almost disappeared.

"When three men watch each other as do Beauvais, Mollendorf and you, it is because each suspects the other

of treachery. You haven't watched me because I am old, but because I am old I have been watching you.

Mollendorf aspires to greatness, you have your gaze on the chancellorship, and curse me if the Colonel isn't

looking after my old shoes! Am I to give up my uniform, my medals and my plumefor nothing? And who

the devil is this man Beauvais, since that is not his name? Is he a fine bird whose feathers have been

The minister did not respond to the question; he began instead to fidget in his chair.

"When I gave my word to his Highness the duke, it was without conditions. I asked no favors; I considered it

my duty. Let us come to an understanding. Material comfort is necessary to a man of my age. Fine phrases

and a medal or two more do not count. I am, then, to go to Servia. You were very kind to hide me in your

"Let us pass on. Mollendorf is to go to Paris, where he will be a nonentity, while in his present office he is a

power in the land Devil take me, but it seems to me that we are all a pack of asses! Our gains will not be

commensurate with our losses. The navy? Well, we'll let that pass; the Colonel, I see, loves a joke."

"Marshal, in heaven's name, what has stirred your bile?" The minister was losing his patience, a bad thing for

"It is something I've been swallowing this past year." The Marshal tipped the ash of his cigar into the waste

"Marshal, will you take the word not of the minister, but of the von Wallenstein, that whatever my reward

"Thanks, but I have asked for no reward. If I accepted gain for what I do, I should not be too old to blush."

"Selfinterest blinds us. I have nothing but pity for this king whose only crime is an archbishop; and I can not

accept gain at his expense; I should blush for shame. Had I my way, he should die in peace. He has not long

to live. The archbishopwell, we can not make kings, they are born. But there is one thing more: Over all

"Yes. The Colonel speaks of a power behind him. Bismarck looks hungrily toward SchleswigHolstein.

Austria casts amorous eyes at us. A protectorate? We did not need it. It was forced on us. When Austria

assumed to dictate to us as to who should be king, she also robbed us of our true independence. Twenty years

ago there was no duchy; it was all one kingdom. Who created this duchy when Albrecht came on the throne?

Austria. Why? If we live we shall read." He rose, shook his lean legs. "I have been for the most part neutral. I

shall remain neutral. There is an undercurrent on which you have failed to reckon. Austria, mistress of the

"The archbishop?" The minister was surprised that the Marshal should concur with the Colonel. "And the

"Thanks. But I have the Servian minister on my hands tonight. A propos, tell the Colonel that I decline

"I shall watch Monseigneur the archbishop." Then he added, with a halfsmile: "God save us if the Marshal's

sword were half so sharp as his tongue! It was careless of me to forget that I had shut him up in the cabinet."

Meanwhile Beauvais walked slowly toward his quarters, with his saber caught up under his arm. Once he

"Yes, they are puppets and jackals, and I am the lion. For all there shall serve my ends. I shall win, and when

I do" He laughed silently. "Well, I am a comely man, and Madame the duchess shall be my wife."

The public park at night was a revelation to Maurice, who, lonely and restless, strolled over from the hotel in

quest of innocent amusement. He was none the worse for his unintended bath; indeed, if anything, he was

much the better for it. His imagination was excited. It was not every day that a man could, at one and the

same time, fall out of a boat and into the presence of a princess of royal blood.

He tried to remember all he had said to her, but only two utterances recurred to him; yet these caused him an

exhilaration like the bouquet of old wine. He had told her that she was beautiful, indirectly, it was true; she

had accepted his friendship, also indirectly, it was true. Now the logical sequence of all this wasbut he

broke into a light laugh. What little vanity he possessed was without conceit. Princesses of royal blood were

beyond the reach of logical sequence; and besides, she was to be married on the twentieth of the month.

He followed one of the paths which led to the pavilion. It was a charming scene, radiant with gas lamps, the

vivid kaleidoscope of gowns and uniforms. Beautiful faces flashed past him. There were in the air the vague

essences of violet, rose and heliotrope. Sometimes he caught the echo of low laughter or the snatch of a gay

song. The light of the lamps shot out on the crinkled surface of the lake in tongues of quivering flame, which

danced a brave gavot with the phantom stars; and afar twinkled the dipping oars. The brilliant pavilion, which

The band was playing airs from the operas of the day, and Maurice yielded to the spell of the romantic music.

He leaned over the pavilion rail, and out of the blackness below he endeavored to conjure up the face of Nell

(or was it Kate?) who had danced with him at the embassies in Vienna, fenced and ridden with him,

Memory was altogether too elusive. It was neither Nell nor Kate he saw smiling up at him, nor anybody else

in the world but the Princess Alexia, whose eyes were like wine in a sunset, whose lips were as red as the

rose of Tours in France, and whose voice was sweeter than that throbbing up from the 'cello. If he thought

much more of her, there would be a logical sequence on his side. He laughed againwith an effortand

settled back in his chair to renew his interest in the panorama revolving around him.

"They certainly know how to live in these countries," he thought, "for all their comic operas. All I need, to

have this fairy scene made complete, is a woman to talk to. By George, what's to hinder me from finding

one?" he added, seized by the spirit of mischief. He turned his head this way and that. "Ah! doubtless there is

Seated alone at a table behind him was a woman dressed in gray. Her back was toward him, but he lost none

of the beautiful contours of her figure. She wore a gray alpine hat, below the rim of which rebellious little

curls escaped, curls of a fine redbrown, which, as they trailed to the nape of the firm white neck, lightened

into a ruddy gold. Her delicate head was turned aside, and to all appearances her gaze was directed to the

entrance to the pavilion. A heavy blue veil completely obscured her features; though Maurice could see a

rosetinted ear and the shadow of a curving chin and throat, which promised much. To a man there is always

a mystery lurking behind a veil. So he rose, walked past her, returned and deliberately sat down in the chair

opposite to hers. The fact that gendarmes moved among the crowd did not disturb him.

She straightened haughtily. "Monsieur," she said, resentment, consternation and indignation struggling to

predominate in her tones, "I did not give you permission to sit down. You are impertinent!"

"O, no," Maurice declared. "I am not impertinent. I am lonesome. In all Bleiberg I haven't a soul to talk to,

excepting the hotel waiters, and they are uninteresting. Grant me the privilege of conversing with you for a

moment. We shall never meet again; and I should not know you if we did. Whether you are old or young,

plain or beautiful, it matters not. My only wish is to talk to a woman, to hear a woman's voice"

"Shall I call a gendarme, Monsieur, and have him search for your nurse?" The attitude which accompanied

He, however, evinced no alarm. He even laughed. "That was good! We shall get along finely, I am sure."

"Monsieur," she said, rising, "I repeat that I do not desire your company, nor to remain in the presence of

"I beseech you!" implored Maurice, also rising. "I am a foreigner, lonesome, unhappy, thousands of miles

"You are English?" suddenly. She stood with the knuckle of her forefinger on her lips as if meditating. She

"English?" he repeated. His thought was: "What the deuce! This is the third time I have been asked that. Who

is this gay Lothario the women seem to be expecting?" To her he continued: "And why do you ask me that?"

"Perhaps it is your accent. And what do you wish to say to me, Monsieur?" It was a voice of quality; all the

anger had gone from it. She leaned on her elbows, her chin in her palms, and through the veil he caught the

sparkle of a pair of wonderful eyes. "Let us converse in English," she added. "It is so long since I have had

"O, I had no definite plan outlined," he answered; "just generalities, with the salt of repartee to season." He

pondered over this sudden transition from wrath to mildness. An Englishman? Very well; it might grow

"Is it customary among the English to request to speak to strangers without the usual formalities of an

"I can not say that it is," he answered truthfully enough; "but the procedure is never without a certain charm

"That is it; the love of adventure. I should not have spoken to you had you not worn the veil." He remarked

"You differ from the average Englishman, who is usually wrapt up in himself and has no desire to talk to

The evolutions of his cane ceased. "How in the world did you guess that?" surprised beyond measure.

He tried to peer behind the veil, but in vain. "Am I speaking to one I have met before?"

"That is true." Inwardly, "There's my friend the Englishman again. She's guessing closer than she knows.

Curious; she has mistaken me for some one she does not know, if that is possible." He was somewhat in a

haze. "Well, you have remarkable eyes. However, let us talk of a more interesting subject; for instance,

"Yes; I like to see without being seen. But, of course, behind this love of adventure which you possess, there

"Ah!" he thought; "you are not quite sure of me." Aloud, "Yes, I came here to witness the comic opera."

"I believed there was going to be trouble between the duchy and the kingdom, but unfortunately the prima

"Son Altesse la Grande Duchesse! 'Voici le sabre de mon pere!'" And he whistled a bar from Offenbach, his

"Ah, sir, but you who live in a powerful country think we little folk have no hearts, that we have no wrongs to

"Wonderful! I always thought a woman's mind was like a time table, subject to change without notice. So

"That you are a woman. Only goddesses do not change their minds sometimes. Well, then you are on the

"The side which is not the weaker. But the subject is what you English call 'taboo.' It is treading on delicate

"What a diplomat you would make!" he cried with enthusiasm. Certainly this was a redletter day in his

calendar. This adventure almost equalled the other, and, besides, in this instance, his skin was dry; he could

enjoy it more thoroughly. Who could this unknown be? "If only you understood the mystery with which you

This candor did not disturb him. "The favor I ask is that you will lift the corner of your veil; otherwise you

"I am doomed to haunt you, then. If I should lift the corner of my veil something terrible would happen."

There was a flash of teeth behind the veil, followed by the ripple of soft laughter. "It is difficult to believe

Maurice did not like the adjective. "I am one of them," wondering what the effect of this admission would be.

"I am not English, but of the brother race. Forgive me if I have imposed on you, but it was your fault. You

Then, to his astonishment, she gave way to laughter, honest and hearty. "How dense of me not to have known

the moment you addressed me! Who but the American holds in scorn custom's formalities and usages? Your

grammar is good, so good that my mistake is pardonable. The American is always like the terrible infant; and

Maurice was not so pleased as he might have been. His ears burned. Still, he went forward bravely. "A man

"I did not ask to speak to you. No one ever pretends to be an American. Why is it you are always ashamed of

Maurice experienced the sting of many bees. "I see that your experience is limited to impostors. I,

Mademoiselle, am proud of my country, the great, free land which stands aside from the turmoil and laughs at

your petty squabbles, your kings, your princes. Laugh at me; I deserve it for not minding my own business,

but do not laugh at my country." His face was flushed; he was almost angry. It was not her words; it was the

contempt with which she had invested them. But immediately he was ashamed of his outburst. "Ah,

Mademoiselle, you have tricked me; you have found the vulnerable part in my armor. I have spoken like a

child. Permit me to apologize for my apparent lack of breeding." He rose, bowed, and made as though to

"Sit down, Monsieur," she said, picking up her French again. "I forgive you. I do more; I admire. I see that

your freak had nothing behind it but mischief. No woman need fear a man who colors when his country is

All his anger evaporated. This was an invitation, and he accepted it. He resumed his seat.

"The truth is, as I remarked, I was lonesome. I know that I have committed a transgression, but the veil

"It is of no matter. A few moments, and you will be gone. I am waiting for some one. You may talk till that

person comes." Her voice was now in its natural tone; and he was convinced that if her face were half as

sweet, she must possess rare beauty. "Hush!" as the band began to breathe forth Chopin's polonaise. They

"Ah !" said he rapturously, "the polonaise! When you hear it, does there not recur to you some dream of

bygone happy hours, the sibilant murmur of fragrant night winds through the crisp foliage, the faint call of

Diana's horn from the woodlands, moon fairies dancing on the spiderwebs, the glint of the dew on the

roses, the faroff music of the surges tossing impotently on the sands, the forgetfulness of time and place and

"No," said he modestly, "I never was quite poor enough for that exalted position." He had recovered his good

"Indeed, you begin to interest me. What is your occupation when not in search ofcomic operas?"

"Yes, to send forth her green and salad youth. Eh, bien! There are hopes for you. If you live you will grow

old; you will become bald and reserved; you will not speak to strangers, to while away an idle hour; for

"I am older than you think, Mademoiselle of the Veil. I have been a soldier; I have seen hard service, too.

Mine is no cushion sword. Youth? 'Tis a virtue, not a crime; and, besides, it is an excellent disguise."

"There may be a comic opera, as you call it. War is not so impossible as to be laughed at. The dove may fly

"And," went on the Veil, "an extra saber might be used. Give me your address, in case I should find it

Now Maurice was a wary youth. Under ordinary circumstances he would have given a fictitious address to

this strange sybil with the prophecy of war; for he had accosted her only in the spirit of fun. But here was the

key which he had been seeking, the key to all that had brought him to Bleiberg. Intrigue, adventure, or

whatever it was, and to whatever end, he plunged into it. He drew out a card case, selected a card on which he

wrote "Room 12, Continental," and passed it over the table. She read it, and slipped it into her purse.

While the pantomime took place, a man pushed by Maurice's chair and crossed over to the table recently

occupied by him. He sat down, lit a short pipe, rested his feet on the lowest rung of the ladderlike railing,

and contemplated the western hills, which by now were enveloped in moon mists. Neither Maurice nor his

mysterious visavis remarked him. Indeed, his broad back afforded but small attraction. And if he puffed

After putting the card into her purse, Mademoiselle of the Veil's gaze once more wandered toward the

entrance, and this time it grew fixed. Maurice naturally followed it, and he saw a tall soldier in fatigue dress

elbowing his way through the crush. Many moved aside for him; those in uniform saluted.

"Monsieur," came from behind the veil, "you may go now. I dismiss you. If I have need of you I promise to

He stood up. "I thank you for the entertainment and the promise you extend. I shall be easily found,"

committing himself to nothing. "I suppose you are a person of importance in affairs."

"It is not unlikely. I see that you love adventure for its own sake, for you have not asked me if it be the duchy

or the kingdom. Adieu, Monsieur," with a careless wave of the gray gloved hand. "Adieu!"

He took his dismissal heroically and shot a final glance at the approaching soldier. His brows came together.

"Where," he murmured, "have I seen that picturesque countenance before? Not in Europe; but where?" He

caught the arm of a passing gendarme. "Who is that gentleman in fatigue uniform, coming this way?"

"That, Monsieur," answered the gendarme in tones not unmixed with awe, "is Colonel Beauvais of the royal

"Thanks. . . . Beauvais; I do not remember the name. Truly I have had experiences today. And for what

house is Mademoiselle of the Veil? Ravens? War? `Voici le sabre de mon pyre!'" and with a gay laugh he

Meanwhile Colonel Beauvais arrived at the table, tipped his hat to the Veil, who rose and laid a hand on his

"It was in accord with her wishes that I am here. She suffers from impatience; and I would risk much to

"So would I, Madame; even life." There was a tremor of passion in his voice, but she appeared not to notice

"This: The man remains still in obscurity. But he shall be found. Listen," and his voice fell into a whisper.

"Austria?" Mademoiselle of the Veil pressed her hands together in excitement. "Is it true?"

"Did I not promise you? It is so true that the end is in sight. Conspiracy is talked openly in the streets, in the

cafes, everywhere. The Osians will be sand in the face of a tidal wave. A word from me, and Kronau follows

"Ay, Madame; he is a man so deep, with a mind so abyssmal, that I would give ten years of my life for a flash

of his thoughts. He has some project; apparently he gives his whole time to the king. He loves this weak man

Leopold; he has sacrificed the red hat for him, for the hat would have taken him to Italy, as we who procured

"The archbishop? Trust me; one month from now he will be recalled. That is the news I have for you."

"You have taken a weight from my mind. What do you think in regard to the rumor of the prince and the

"Gaze toward the upper end of the pavilion, the end which we have just left. Yesthere. I am having the

owner of those broad shoulders watched. That gendarme leaning against the pillar follows him wherever he

Mademoiselle of the Veil laughed. "Pardon my irrelevancy, but the remembrance of a recent adventure of

Maurice could not regain his interest in the scene. He strolled in and out of the moving groups, but no bright

eyes or winning smiles allured him. Impelled by curiosity, he began to draw near the shadowed nook.

Curiosity in a journalist is innate, and time nor change can efface it. Curiosity in those things which do not

concern us is wrong. Ethics disavows the practice, though philosophy sustains it. Perhaps in this instance

Maurice was philosophical, not ethical. Perhaps he wanted to hear the woman's voice again, which was

excusable. Perhaps it was neither the one nor the other, but fate, which directed his footsteps. Certain it is that

the subsequent adventures would never have happened had he gone about his business, as he should have

"Who is this who stares at us?" asked Beauvais, with a piercing glance and a startled movement of his

"A disciple of Pallas and a pupil of Mars," was the answer. "I have been recruiting, Colonel. There is

The Colonel continued his scrutiny, however, and there was an ugly droop at the corners of his mouth, though

Maurice, aware that he was not wanted, passed along, having in mind to regain his former seat by the railing.

"Colonel," he mused, "your face grows more familiar every moment. It was not associated with agreeable

things. But, what were they? Hang it! you shall have a place in my thoughts till I have successfully labeled

He viewed with indecision the broad back of the interloper, who at that moment turned his head. At the sight

of that bronzed profile Maurice gave an exclamation of surprise and delight. He stepped forward and dropped

"John Fitzgerald, or henceforth garlic shall be my salad!" he cried in loud, exultant tones.

The stranger returned Maurice's salute with openmouthed dismay; the monocle fell from his eye, he grasped

the table with one hand and pushed back the chair with the other, while Maurice heard the name of an

The gendarme, who was leaning against the pillar, straightened, opened his jaws, snapped them, and hurried

"No one else, though I must say you do not seem very glad to see me," Maurice answered, conscious that he

"Gently," said Fitzgerald, catching Maurice by the coat and pulling him down into a chair. "Confound you,

could you not have made yourself known to me without yelling my name at the top of your voice?"

"Are you ashamed of it?" asked Maurice, loosing his coat from Fitzgerald's grip.

"I'm afraid of it," the Englishman admitted, in a lowered voice. "And your manly, resonant tones have cast it

"I am Don Jahpet of Armenia; that is to say that I am a marked man. And now, as you would inelegantly

express it, you have put a tag on me. When I left you in Vienna the other day I lied to you. I am sorry. I

should have trusted you, only I did not wish you to risk your life. You would have insisted on coming along."

"Risked my life?" echoed Maurice. "How many times have I not risked it? By the way," impressed by a

"Yes." Fitzgerald knocked his pipe against the railing. "I am the man. Worse luck! Was any one near when

"Only one of those wooden gendarmes!" ironically. "Only one of those dogs who have been at my heels ever

since I arrived. And he, having heard, has gone back to his master. Well, since you have started the ball

They passed out of the pavilion, along the path to the square, thence to the terrace of the Continental, which

they mounted. Not a word was said, but Maurice was visibly excited, and by constant gnawing ruined his

cigar. He conducted his friend to the room on the second floor, the window of which opened on a private

balcony. Here he placed two chairs and a small table; and with a bottle of tokayer between them they seated

"Only a crown and a few millions in money," repeated Maurice very slowly, for his mind could scarcely

A gendarme had leisurely followed them from the park. He took aside a porter and quietly plied him with

"Knocks you up a bit, eh?" said Fitzgerald. "Well, I am rather surprised myself; that is to say, I was."

"To begin with, if I do not see the king tomorrow, it is not likely that I ever shall."

Fitzgerald drank slowly, however, as if arranging in his mind the salient points in his forthcoming narrative.

"I have never been an extraordinarily communicative man; what I shall tell you is known only to my former

Colonel and myself. At Calcutta, where you and I first met, I was but a Lieutenant in her Majesty's. Today I

am burdened with riches such as I know not how to use, and possessor of a title which sounds strange in my

The dim light from the gasjet in the room flickered over his face, and Maurice saw that it was slightly

"The same. Thirteen years ago we parteda misunderstanding. I never saw him again. Six months ago he

died and left me a fortune, a title and a strange legacy; and it is this legacy which brings me to Bleiberg. Do

"I do. This throne belongs to the house of Auersperg, and the Osian usurps. The fact that the minister of the

And Fitzgerald proceeded briefly to acquaint the other with the strange caprice of his father; how, when he

left Bleiberg, he had been waylaid and the certificates demanded; how he had entrusted them to his valet,

who had gone by another route; how the duke had sought him in Vienna and made offers, bribes and threats;

"My father wished to save Leopold in spite of himself; and then, he had no love for Josef. At a dinner given

at the legation, there was among others a toast to her Majesty. The duke laughed and tossed the wine to the

floor. It lost him his crown, for my father never forgave the insult. When the duke died, his daughter took up

the work with surprising vigor. It was all useless; father was a rock, and would listen neither to bribes nor

threats. Now they are after me. They have hunted me in India, London, and Vienna. I am an obscure soldier,

with all my titles and riches; they threaten me with death. But I am here, and my father's wishes shall be

carried out. That is all. I am glad that we have come together; you have more invention than I have."

"But why did you come yourself? You could have sent an agent. That would have been simple."

"An agent might be bought. It was necessary for me to come. However, I might have waited till the twentieth.

I should have come openly and informed the British minister of my mission. As to the pheasants, they could

have waited. Perhaps my fears are without foundation, unless you have been the unconscious cause of my

true name being known. Every one has heard the story. It is known as 'Fitzgerald's folly,' and has gone the

rounds of the diplomatic circles for ten years. I shall ask for an audience to morrow morning."

"And these certificates fall due the same day that the princess is to be married," mused his auditor. "What a

yarn for the papers!" his love of sensation being always close to the surface. "Your father, you say, took four

"A kind of court plaster for his wounds, eh? Why don't you get that other million and run the kingdom

"But really I do not see why you are putting yourself to all this trouble. The king will pay off the

indebtedness; the kingdom is said to be rich, or Austria wouldn't meddle with it."

"And since he can not pay he is bankrupt. Ah, I see the plan. The duke knew that he wouldn't be able to pay."

"Austria has too many debts of her own; she will have to disavow her protege, which is a fact not unthought

of by the house of Auersperg. By constant machination and intrigue the king's revenues have been so

depleted that ordinary debts are troublesome. The archbishop, to stave off the probable end, brought about the

alliance between the houses of Carnavia and Osia. My business here is to arrange for a ten years' renewal of

the loan, and that is what the duchess wishes to prevent, mon ami. What's to become of the king and his

daughter if aught in the way of mishap should befall me? I have not seen the king, but I have seen her Royal

"What is she like?" Maurice asked, innocently. He saw no reason why he should confide to the Englishman

"I'm not much of a judge," said Fitzgerald cautiously. "I have lived most of my life in cantonments where

women were old and ran mostly to tongue. I should say that she is beautiful." A short sigh followed this

"Ah!" said Maurice with a loud laugh to cover the sudden pang of jealousy which seized him; "in gratitude

for saving her father's throne the daughter will fall in love with you. It is what the dramatist calls logical

"Writing novels is too much like work. But I'm serious. Your position in the world today is nearly equal to

hers, and certainly more secure. Ah, yes; I must not forget that prince. He's a lucky dogand so are you, for

that matter. Millions and titles! And I have slapped you cavalierly on the back, smoked your cigars, drunk

"Ah, Maurice, it is neither wealth nor titles; it is freedom. I am like a boy out of school for good and all.

Women, the society of women, who are the salt of earth; that is what I want. I have knocked out thirteen

years of my life in furnace holes, and have not met nor spoken to a dozen young women in all that time. How

I envy you! You know every one; you have seen the world;. you are at home in Paris, or London, or Vienna;

"Well, I was young; I saw fame and glory. If the matter under hand is closed tomorrow, what do you say to

the Carpathians and bears? I shall not remain here; some one will be looking for blood. What do you say?"

"I don't know," said Maurice, thoughtfully. He was thinking of Mademoiselle of the Veil and her prophecy of

ravens. "I don't know that I shall be able. It is my opinion that your part in the affair is only a curtainraiser to

graver things. Every one of importance in town goes about with an air of expectancy. I never saw anything

like it. It is the king, the archbishop and the chancellor against two hundred thousand. You're a soldier; can't

"Maybe. Have you seen this Colonel Beauvais of the royal cuirassiers, the actual head of the army here?"

"A fine soldier," said the Englishman, heartily. "Rides like a centaur and wields a saber as if it were a piece of

"I can hold a pretty good blade myself; I've an idea that I can lick him at both games."

Fitzgerald laughed goodnaturedly. "There is the one flaw in your makeup. I admit your horsemanship; but

the saber! Believe me, it is only the constant practice and a wrist of iron which make the saber formidable.

"Since when have the saber and the civilian been on terms? And these continental sabers are matchless, the

finest in the world. I trust you will steer clear of the Colonel; if you have any challenge in mind, spring it on

me, and I'll let you down easy." Then: "Why the devil do you want to lick him, anyway?"

"I don't know," said Maurice. "I had a close range tonight, and somehow the man went against the grain.

Well, Jack, I'll stay with you in this affair, though, as the county judge at home would say, it's out of my

"It seemed good to run across you in Vienna, Maurice. You were one of the bright spots in the old days."

"Do you want me to walk with you to the Grand? It's a fine night," said Maurice, waving his hand toward the

moon. "By George, what a beautiful place this end of Bleiberg is! I do not wonder that the duchess covets it."

"Well, goodnight and good luck to you," said Maurice, as he led the Englishman into the hallway. "Look me

up when you have settled the business. I say, but it gets me; it's the strangest thing I ever heard." And he

Then he went back to his chair on the balcony to think it over. At four o'clock that afternoon he had grumbled

of dullness. He lit a pipe, and contemplated the soft and delicate blues of earth and heaven, the silvery flashes

on the lake, and the slim violet threads of smoke which wavered about his head. It was late. Now and then the

sound of a galloping horse was borne up by the breeze, and presently Maurice heard the midnight bell boom

forth from the sleepy spires of the cathedralwhere the princess was to be married.

One by one the lamps of the park went out, but the moon shone on, lustrous and splendid. First he reviewed

his odd adventure in the archbishop's gardens. He had spoken to princesses before, but they were women of

the world, hothouse roses that bloom and wither in a short space. The atmosphere which surrounded this

princess was idyllic, pastoral. She had seen nothing of the world, its sports and pastimes, and the art of

playing at love was unknown to her. Again he could see her serious eyes, the delicate chin and mouth, the

oval cheeks, and the dog that followed in her steps. Here was an indelible picture which time could never

And ah, the woman in the veil! Who could she be? The more he thought of her the more convinced he was

that she stood high in the service of any one but Leopold of Osia. And Fitzgerald! That sober old soldier

concerned with crowns and millions! It was incredible; it was almost laughable. They had met upcountry in

India, and had hunted, and Maurice had saved the Englishman's life. Occasionally they had corresponded.

"Well, to bed," said the young diplomat. "This has been a full day." And, like the true newspaper man he was,

for all his diplomacy, he emptied the bottle and entered the room. He was about to disrobe, when some one

rapped on the door. He opened it, and beheld a man in the livery of the Grand Hotel. He was breathing hard.

"Herr Hamilton bade me to tell your Excellency that in returning to the hotel he sprained his ankle, and

"Certainly. Run down to the office, and I shall be with you shortly." Again alone, Maurice opened his trunk.

He brought forth a pint flask of brandy, some old handkerchiefs to be used as bandages, and a box of salve he

used for bruises when on hunting expeditions. In turning over his clothes his hand came into contact with his

old army revolver. He scratched his head. "No, it's too much like a cannon, and there's no room for it in my

pockets." He pushed it aside, rose and slammed the lid of the trunk. "Sprained his ankle? He wasn't gone

more than an hour. How the deuce is he to see the king tomorrow? Probably wishes to appoint me his agent.

That's it. Very well." He proceeded to the office, where he found the messenger waiting for him. "Come on,

Together they traversed the moonlit thoroughfare. Few persons were astir. Once the night patrol clattered by.

They passed through the markets, and not far ahead they could see the university. It looked like a city prison.

They entered. Maurice approached the proprietor, who was pale and flurried; but as Maurice had never seen

"Number nine; Johann will show you." He acted as if he had something more to say, but a glance from the

roundfaced porter silenced him. Maurice lost much by not seeing this glance. He followed the messenger up

There were no transoms. The corridor was devoid of illumination. The porter struck a match and held it close

The door opened, and before Maurice could brace himselffor the interior of the room made all plain to

himhe was violently pushed over the threshold on to his knees. He was up in an instant. The room was

"What the devil is this?" he demanded, brushing his knees and cursing himself because he had not brought his

Maurice turned to the speaker, and saw a mediumsized man with gray hair and a frosty stubble of a

mustache. He wore no insignia of office. Indeed, as Maurice gazed from one man to the next he saw that

there were no officers; and it came to him that these were not soldiers of the king. He was in a trap. He

thought quickly. Fitzgerald was in trouble, perhaps on his account. Where was he?

"Evidently I have entered the wrong room," he continued imperturbably. He stepped toward the door, but a

"You have recently formed a dangerous acquaintance, and we desire to aid you in breaking it."

"Are you aware, gentlemenno, I don't mean gentlementhat I am attached to the American legation in

"Allow me to correct you," put in the elderly man, who evidently was the leader in the affair. "You are not

attached; you are detached. Gentlemen, permit me, M. Carewe, detache of the American legation in Vienna,

One of the soldiers entered the next room and soon returned pushing Fitzgerald before him. The Englishman

"Like a gentleman!" cried Maurice, letting out a little of his anger. "Take out the gag; he will not cry."

The leader nodded, and Fitzgerald's mouth was relieved. He spat some blood on the carpet, then looked at his

"I advise you to, for if you do not kill me, some day I shall be free again, and then God help some of you."

"I'm glad they did. What you want is company." There was a glance, swift as light. It went to the mantel, then

passed to the captive. "Well," said Maurice, "what is next on your damned program?"

With an unexpected movement he sent the table over, the lights went out; and he had judged the distance so

"The door! the door!" a voice bawled. "Knock down any one who attempts to pass."

This was precisely what Maurice desired. With the soldiers massed about the door, he would be free to

liberate Fitzgerald; which he did. He had scarcely completed the task, when a flame spurted up. The leader

fearlessly lit a candle and righted the table. He saw both his prisoners, one of them with extended arms, at the

"Maybe it is," replied Maurice. "Now, my gay banqueteers, open the door; and the first man who makes a

"Seize him, your Excellency!" shouted one of the troopers. "Those are my revolvers he has, and they are not

Two o'clock in the morning, on the king's highway, and a small body of horse making progress. The moon

was beginning to roll away toward the west, but the world was still frostwhite, and the broad road stretched

out like a silver ribbon before the horsemen, until it was lost in the blue mist of the forests.

The troop consisted of ten men, two of whom rode with their hands tied behind their backs and their feet

fastened under the bellies of the horses. The troop was not conspicuous for this alone. Three others had their

Five miles to the rear lay the sleeping city of Bleiberg, twenty miles beyond rose the formidable heights of

the Thalians. At times the horses went forward at a gallop, but more often they walked; when they galloped

the man with his arm in the sling complained. Whenever the horses dropped into a walk, the leader talked to

"You fight like the very devil, my friend," he said; "but we were too many by six. Mind, I think none the less

of you for your attempt; freedom is always worth fighting for. As I said before, no harm is meant to you,

physically; as to the moral side, that doesn't concern me. You have disabled four of my men, and have

scarcely a dozen scratches to show for it. I wanted to take only four men with me; I was ordered to take eight.

"You wouldn't be so polite, Colonel," spoke up the trooper whose arm was in the sling, "if you had got this

"Is it possible," said Maurice ironically, "that I have had the honor of hitting a baron on the head and breaking

"I'd rather not reckon, if it's all the same to you. Your friend I might say, your very valuable friendtakes

"But now that we are talking," said Maurice, "I should like to know how the deuce you got hold of my name

"Simple enough. A card of yours was given to me; on it was your name and address. The rest was easy."

"Quite likely. I thought you'd come to that conclusion. Sometimes when we play with foxes they lead us into

bear traps. Young man, witness these gray hairs; never speak to strange women, especially when they wear

"Mademoiselle of the Veil, according to your picturesque imagination; to me she is the intimate friend and

adviser of her Highness Stephonia." He wheeled to the troopers with a laugh: "Hoch, you beggars, hoch!"

Maurice indulged in some uncomplimentary remarks, among which was: "I'm an ass!"

"We arrived yesterday afternoon as the escort of your charmer. A pretty woman finds it troublesome to travel

alone in these parts. When you slapped your friend on the back and bawled out his namea name known

from one end of the kingdom to the otherthe plan of action was immediately formed. You were necessary,

for it was taken for granted that you knew too much. You had also promised your sword," with a chuckle.

"I made no promise," said Maurice. "I only said that I should easily be found when wanted."

"It was neatly done, you will admit. Life is a game of cards; he wins who plays first."

"Kings are a tolerable bother on earth," Maurice declared, trying to ease his wrists by holding them higher

"Cards! Well, well; when you get down to the truth of the matter, real kings differ but little from the kings in

pasteboard; right side up, or wrong side up, they serve the purpose of those who play them. There's a poor,

harmless devil back there," with a nod toward Bleiberg. "He never injured a soul. Perhaps that's it; had he

been cruel, avaricious, sly, all of them would be cringing at his feet. Devil take mebut I'm a soldier," he

"O," said Maurice carelessly, "I thought it not unlikely that you might have a few lying around loose."

The Colonel roared. "You Americans beat the very devil with your questions. Well, I am politely known as

Maurice laughed; the old fellow was amusing, and besides, this conversation helped to pass away the time.

"If they are, they'll be tight enough ere many days have passed," was the threatening reply.

"Beware the dog!" cried the Colonel, and he resumed his place at the head of the little troop.

Maurice took this opportunity to bend toward Fitzgerald. "Have you anything of importance about you?" he

"Nothing. But God send that no chambermaid change the sheet in my bed at the hotel."

After a time the Colonel sang out: "Fifteen miles more, with three on the other side, men; we must put more

life into us. A trot for a few miles. The quicker the ride is done, baron, the quicker the surgeon will look to

And silence fell upon the troop. Occasionally a stray horse in the fields whinneyed, and was answered from

the road; sometimes the howl of a dog broke the monotony. On and on they rode; hour and mile were left

behind them. The moon fell lower and lower, and the mountains rose higher and higher, and the wind which

had risen had a frosty sting to it. Maurice now began to show the true state of his temper by cursing his horse

whenever it rubbed against one of its fellows. His back was lame, and there was a dull pain in one of his

shoulders. When he had made the rush for the door, clubbing right and left with the empty revolvers, he had

"Here, hang you!" he said to the trooper who held the bridle of his horse, "I'm cold; you might at least turn up

"You are welcome to my cloak," said the trooper, disengaging that article from his shoulders.

At length the troop arrived at the frontier. There was no sign of life at the barrack. They passed unchallenged.

"What!" exclaimed Maurice, "do they sleep here at night, then? A fine frontier barrack." He had lived in

"They will wake up today," answered the Colonel; "that is, if the wine we gave them was not too strong.

Poor devils; they must be good and cold by this time, since we have their clothes. What do you think of a

Maurice became resigned. To him the present dynasty was as fragile as glass, and it needed but one strong

blow to shatter it into atoms. And the one hope rode at his side, sullen and wrathful, but impotent; the one

hope the king had to save his throne. He had come to Bleiberg in search of excitement, but this was altogether

The horses began to lift and were soon winding in and out of the narrow mountain pass. The chill of the

"Curse it! I want nothing but two minutes freedom. It would be warm enough then."

"No confidences, gentlemen," warned the Colonel; "I understand English tolerably well."

"When the time comes," tranquilly. "Of the two I like your friend the better. To be resigned to the inevitable

"You are used to orders. I am simply obeying mine. If I took you off your guard it was because I had to, and

not because I liked that method best. Look alive, men; it's down hill from now on."

A quarter of an hour later the troop arrived at the duchy's frontier post. There was no sleep here. The Colonel

"I've a flask of brandy in my hip pocket," said Maurice. "Will you help me to a nip, Colonel?"

"Pardon me, gentlemen; I had forgotten that your hands were still in cords. Corporal," to a trooper, "relieve

The prisoners rubbed their wrists and hands, which were numb and cold. Maurice produced his flask.

"I was bringing it along for your sprained ankle," he said, as he extended the flask to Fitzgerald, who drank a

third of it. "I'd offer you some, Colonel, only it would be like heaping coals of fire on your head; and,

besides, I want it all myself." He returned the emptied flask to his pocket, feeling a moderate warmth inside.

"Drink away, my son," said the Colonel, climbing into the saddle; "there'll be plenty for me for this night's

The troop took up the march again, through a splendid forest kept clear of dead wood by the peasants. It

abounded with game. The shrill cry of the pheasants, the rustle of the partridges in the underbrush, the bark of

the fox, all rose to the ears of the trespassers. The smell of warm earth permeated the air, and the sky was

When Napoleon humiliated Austria for the second time, one of his mushroom nobles, who placed too much

faith in the man of destiny, selected this wooded paradise as a residence. He built him a fine castle of red

brick, full of wide halls and drawing rooms and chambers of state, and filled it with fabulous paintings,

Gobelin tapestries, and black walnut wainscot. He kept a small garrison of French soldiers by converting the

huge stables partly into a barrack. One night the peasantry rose. There was a conflict, as the walls still show;

and the prince by patent fled, no one knew where. After its baptism in blood it became known far and wide as

the Red Chateau. Whenever children were unruly, they were made docile by threats of the dark dungeons of

the Red Chateau, or the ghosts of the French and German peasants who died there. As it now stood, it was

"Gentlemen," said the Colonel, dismounting, "permit me, in the name of her Highness, to offer you the

hospitality of Red Chateau. Consider; will you lighten my task by giving me your word of honor to make no

attempt to escape? Escape is possible, but not probable. There are twenty fresh men and horses in the stables.

"So far as I'm concerned," said Maurice, who needed liberty not half so much as sleep, "I pass my word."

Fitzgerald gazed about him. "Very well," he said, as he saw the futility of a struggle.

"Your humble servant, Messieurs," touching his cap. "Take the ropes off their ankles, men."

When Maurice was lifted from his horse and placed on the ground, his legs suddenly bent under him, and he

The Englishman was affected likewise, and it was some moments before either could walk. They were

conducted to a chamber high up in the left wing, which overlooked the forest and the mountains. It was a

large airy room, but the windows were barred and there were double locks on the doors. The Colonel

"Breakfast, Messieurs, and a good sleep for you till this noon. As for the rest, let that take care of itself." And

Maurice, after having tried all the bars and locks in answer to his conscience, gave his attention to the

"No, no," said Maurice; "let us eat it; that's what it's here for," and he fell to with that vigor known only to

"Force of habit," breaking the toast. "What's the use of wasting powder? Because I have shown only the

exterior, our friend the Colonel has already formed an opinion of me. I am brave if need be, but young and

careless. In a day or sofor I suppose we are not to be liberated at oncehe'll forget to use proper caution

in respect to me. And then, 'who can say?' as the Portuguese says when he hasn't anything else to say. They'll

keep a strict watch over you, my friend, because you've played the lion too much. Just before I left the States,

as you call them, a new slang phrase was going the rounds;'it is better to play the fox some of the time than

to roar all of the time.' Ergo, be foxy. Take it cool. So long as you haven't got that mint packed about your

"Is as secure on his throne as he ever was. If you do not present those consols, either for renewal or

collection, on the twentieth, he loses nothing. As you said, let us hope that the chambermaid is a shifty,

careless lass, who will not touch your room till you return." Maurice broke an egg and dropped a lump of

"Indians? What the deuce has fighting Indians to do with this? As to Indians, shoot them in the back if you

can. Here, everything depends not on fighting but the right use of words. A man may be a diplomat and not

render his country any large benefit; still, it's a fine individual training. Thrones stand on precipices and are

Fitzgerald sat down and gulped his coffee. "They broke my monocle in the struggle."

"Everything is for the best," said Maurice. "You will be able to see out of both eyes."

"Confound you!" cried Fitzgerald, smiling in spite of himself; "nothing will disturb you."

"You mean, nothing shall. Now, there's the bed and there's the lounge. Since you are the principal, that is to

say, the constituent part of this affair, and also the principal actor in this extravaganza, suppose you take the

bed and leave me the lounge? And the deuce take the duchess, who is probably a woman with a high forehead

and a pair of narrow eyes!" He threw down his napkin and made for the lounge, without giving any particular

attention to the smile and frown which were struggling in the Englishman's eyes. In less than a minute

Fitzgerald thought that the best thing he could do was to follow the philosophical example of his friend.

"These Americans," he mused, as he arranged the pillow under his ear, "are `fifteen puzzles'; you can move

As for Maurice, he was already dreaming; he was too tired to sleep. Presently he thought he was on a horse

again, and was galloping, galloping. He was heading his old company to the very fringe of the alkali. The

Apaches had robbed the pay train and killed six men, and the very deuce was to pay all around. . . . Again he

was swimming, and a beautiful girl reached out a hand and saved him. Ah! how beautiful she was, how soft

and rich the deep brown of her eyes! . . . The scene shifted. The president of the South American republic had

accepted his sword (unbeknown to the United States authorities), and he was aiding to quell the insurrection.

And just then some one whispered to him that gold would rise fifty points. And as he put out his hands to

gather in the glittering coins which were raining down, the face of Colonel Beauvais loomed up, scowling

and furious. . . . And yet again came the beautiful girl. He was holding her hand and the archbishop had his

spread out in benediction over their heads. . . . A hand, which was not of dreamland, shook him by the arm.

He opened his eyes. Fitzgerald was standing over him. The light of the sun spangled the walls opposite the

"Hang you!" he said, with blinking eyes; "why didn't you let me be? I was just marrying the princess, and

you've spoiled it all. I" He jumped to his feet and rubbed his eyes, and, forgetful of all save his

Standing just within the door, smiling and rubbing the gray bristles on his lip, was the Colonel. In the center

of the room stood a woman dressed in gray. Maurice recognized the dress; it belonged to Mademoiselle of the

Veil, who was now sans veil, sans hat. A marvelous face was revealed to Maurice, a face of that peculiar

beauty which poets and artists are often minded to deny, but for the love of which men die, become great or

Her luxuriant hair, which lay in careless masses about the shapely head and intelligent brow, was a mixture of

red and brown and gold, a variety which never ceases to charm; skin the pallor of ancient marble, with the

shadow of rose lying below the eyes, the large, gray chatoyant eyes, which answered every impulse of the

brain which ruled them. The irregularity of her features was never noticeable after a glance into those eyes.

Maurice, who was astonished never more than a minute at a time, immediately recovered. His toilet was

somewhat disarranged, and the back of his head a crow's nest, but, nevertheless, he placed a hand over his

"Good morning, gentlemen," she said, in a voice which Maurice would have known anywhere. "I hope the

"The annoyance was not so particular, Madame," said Fitzgerald stiffly, "as it was general."

Maurice was struck for a moment, but soon saw that the remark was innocent of any inelegance of speech.

Fitzgerald was gnawing his mustache and looking out of the corner of his eyesinto hers.

"My task, I confess, is a most disagreeable one," she resumed, lightly beating her gauntlets together; "but

when one serves high personages one is supposed not to have any sentiments." To Fitzgerald she said: "You

"For my sake? Worry yourself none on that point. As the agent of her Highness I am inconsiderable."

"Madame," said Maurice, "will you do us the honor to inform us to whom we are indebted for this partiality

"Amerbach?" said Maurice, who was familiar with the great names of the continent. "Pardon me, but that was

"Well, Madame, since your business doubtless concerns me, pray, begin;" and Fitzgerald leaned against the

Maurice walked to one of the windows and perched himself on the broad sill. He began to whistle softly:

Beyond the window, at the edge of the forest, he saw a sentinel pacing backward and forward. Indeed, no

matter which way he looked, the autumnal scenery had this accessory. Again, he inspected the bars. These

were comparatively new. It was about thirty feet to the court below. On the whole, the outlook was

"Count," said the distant relative of the house of Amerbach, "how shall I begin?"

"I am not a diplomat, Madame," answered the Colonel. "If, however, you wish the advice of a soldier, I

should begin by asking if my lord the Englishman has those consols about his person."

"Fie, count!" she cried, laughing; "one would say that was a prelude to robbery."

"So they would. As for myself, I prefer violence to words. If we take these pretty papers by violence, we shall

still have left our friend the Englishman his selfrespect. And as for words, while my acquaintance with our

"Madame, the title I have is already a burden to me." Fitzgerald laughed, which announced that the cause of

the duchess was not getting on very well. Once or twice he raised the tortoiseshell rim to his eye, but dropped

"Her Highness has offered you five millions for slips of paper worth no more than the ink which decorates

"And I have refused. Why? Simply because the matter does not rest with me. You have proceeded with a

high hand, Madame, or rather your duchess has. Nothing will come of it. Had there been any possibility of

She smiled. Maurice saw the smile and stopped whistling long enough to scratch his chin, which was

somewhat in need of a razor. He had seen many women smile that way. He had learned to read it. It was an

"Is Madame the duchess," Fitzgerald completed. "I haven't the slightest doubt of that. One way or the other, it

does not concern me. I came here simply to fulfill the wishes of my father; and my word, Madame, fulfill

them I shall. You are holding me a prisoner, but uselessly. On the twentieth the certificates fall due against

the government. If they are not presented either for renewal or collection, the bankruptcy scheme of your

duchess will fall through just the same. I will tell you the truth, Madame. My father never expected to collect

"This officer here," continued Fitzgerald, while the Colonel made a comical grimace, "suggests violence. I

shall save him the trouble. I have seen much of the world, Madamethe hard side of it and, knowing it as

I do, it is scarcely probable that I should carry about my person the equivalent of four millions of crowns."

"Well, Madame," said the Colonel, pushing his belt closer about his hips, as a soldier always does when he is

on the point of departure, "what he says is true, every word of it. I see nothing more to do at present."

Mademoiselle of the Veil was paying not so much attention to the Colonel's words as she was to Maurice's

"Pardon me!" exclaimed Maurice. "I did not intend to annoy you." He stepped down out of the window.

She did not respond to this flippancy, though the pupils of her gray eyes grew large with anger. She walked

"Count, what do you think would be most satisfactory to her Highness, under the circumstances?"

"Messieurs, your parole d'honneur, and the freedom of the chateau is yourswithin the sentry lines. I wish to

make your recollections of the Red Chateau rather pleasant than otherwise. I shall be most happy if you will

The Colonel coughed, Maurice smoothed the back of his head, and Fitzgerald caught up his monocle.

"My word, Madame," said Maurice, "is not worth much, being that of a diplomat, but such as it is it is yours.

However, my clothes are scarcely presentable," which was true enough. Several buttons were missing, and

"That can be easily remedied," said she. "There are several new hussar uniforms in the armory."

"O, Madame, and you will permit me to wear one of those gay uniforms of light blue and silver lace?"

The Colonel looked thoughtfully at Maurice. He was too much a banterer himself to miss the undercurrent of

raillery. He eyed Madame discreetly; he saw that she had accepted merely the surface tones.

"Well, then, the count will shortly return and establish you in better quarters. Let us suppose you are my

guests for aa fortnight. Since both of us are right, since neither your cause nor mine is wrong, an armistice!

Ah! I forgot. The east corridor on the third floor is forbidden you. Should you mistake and go that way, a

guard will direct you properly. Messieurs, till dinner!" and with a smile which illumined her face as a sudden

burst of sunshine flashes across a hillside, she passed out of the room, followed by her henchman, who had

"A house party," said Maurice, when he could no longer hear their footsteps. "And what the deuce have they

"It's small matter to me," said Fitzgerald tranquilly. "The main fact is that she has given up her game."

Said Maurice, his face expressing both pity and astonishment: "My dear, dear John! Didn't you see that

"True; you haven't had any experience with petticoats. This woman will rend heaven and earth rather than

relinquish her projects, or rather those of her mistress. I should like to see this duchess, who shows a fine

discernment in the selection of her assistants. Beware of the woman who is frankly your enemy. If she is

frank, it is because she is confident of the end; if not, she is frank in order to disarm us of the suspicion of

"Hang me if I can see what difference it makes. She can not do anything either by frankness or by cunning."

"I thought it a redbrown. It's too bad that such a woman should be mixed up in an affair like this."

"Woman will sacrifice to ambition what she never will sacrifice to love. Hush; I hear the Colonel returning."

They were conducted to the opposite wing of the chateau, to a room on the second floor. Its windows

afforded an excellent view of the land which lay south. Hills rolled away like waves of gold, dotted here and

there with vineyards. Through the avenue of trees they could see the highway, and beyond, the river, which

The room itself was in red, evidently a state chamber, for it contained two canopied beds. Several fine

paintings hung from the walls, and between the two windows rose one of those pier glasses which owe their

existence to the first empire of France. On one of the beds Maurice saw the hussar uniform. On the dresser

"The boots may not fit you," said the Colonel, "but if they do not we will manage some way."

"I shall not mind the fortnight," said Maurice. "By the way, Colonel, I notice that French seems to prevail

"It is the common language of politeness, and servants do not understand it. As for myself, I naturally prefer

the German tongue; it is blunt and honest and lacks the finesse of the French, which is full of evasive words

and meanings. However, French predominates at court. Besides, heaven help the foreigner who tries to learn

all the German tongues to be found in the empires of the Hohenzollern and Hapsburg. Luncheon will be

served to you in the dining hall; the first door to the right at the foot of the grand staircase. I shall send you a

"Spare me, Colonel," said Maurice, who did not want any one between him and the Englishman when they

"As you please," said the Colonel, a shade of disappointment in his tones. "After all, you are soldiers, where

Maurice at once applied lather and razor, and put on the handsome uniform, which fitted him snugly. The

coat was tailless, with rows of silver buttons running from collar to waist. The breast and shoulders and

sleeves were covered with silver lace, and Maurice concluded that it must be nothing less than a captain's

uniform. The trousers were tight fitting, with broad stripes of silver; and the half boots were of patent leather.

"You're a handsome rascal, Maurice," answered the Englishman, who had watched his young friend,

"I meant young women of sixteen or seventeen. Women such as Madame have long since passed the uniform

"Not when it has lace, my friend, court lace. Well, forward to the dining hall."

Both were rather disappointed to find that Madame would be absent until dinner. Fitzgerald could not tell

exactly why he was disappointed, and he was angry with himself for the vague regret. Maurice, however,

found consolation in the demure French maid who served them. Every time he smiled she made a courtesy,

"Smile, confound you, smile!" he whispered. "There's never a maid but has her store of gossip, and gossip is

The maid was not on familiar terms with the classics, but she told the butler in the pantry that the

"He might do worse," was the retort. Even maids have their mirrors, and hers told a pretty story. When she

"I do not know, Monsieur," stepping in between the chairs and filling the glasses with the ruby liquid.

"Madame Sylvia Amerbach," placing the bottle on the table and going to the sideboard. She returned with a

"Oho!" cried Maurice, in English. "A countess! What do you say to that, my Englishman?"

"You forget that Madame desires nothing but those certificates. And the chaperon does not live who could

The mention of the certificates brought back all the Englishman's discomfort, and he emptied his glass of

wine not as a lover of good wine should. Soon they rose from the table. The maid ran to the door and held it

open. Fitzgerald hurried through, but Maurice lingered a moment. He put his hand under the porcelain chin

Madame came back to the chateau at five, and dinner was announced at eight. The Countess Herzberg was

young and pretty, the possessor of a beautiful mouth and a charming smile. The Colonel did the honors at the

table. Maurice almost fancied himself in Vienna, the setting of the dining room was so perfect. The entire

room was paneled in walnut. On the mantel over the great fireplace stood silver candlesticks with wax tapers.

The candlestick in the center of the table was composed of twelve branches. The cuisine was delectable, the

wines delicious. Madame and the countess were in evening dress. The Colonel was brimming with anecdote,

Maurice, while he enjoyed this strange feast, was puzzled. It was very irregular, and the Colonel's gray hairs

did not serve to alter this fact. What was the meaning of it? What lay underneath?

Sometimes he caught Fitzgerald in the act of staring at Madame when her attention was otherwise engaged; at

other times he saw that Madame was returning this cursory investigation. There was, however, altogether a

different meaning in these surreptitious glances. In the one there were interest, doubt, admiration; in the

other, cold calculation. At no time did the conversation touch politics, and the crown was a thousand miles

Finally the Colonel rose. "A toastto Madame the duchess, since this is her very best wine!"

Maurice emptied his glass fast enough; but Fitzgerald lowered his eyes and made no movement to raise his

"Madame," he replied gently, "my parole did not include toasts to her Highness. My friend loves wine for its

own sake, and seldom bothers his head about the toast as long as the wine is good. Permit me to withdraw the

"Do so, if it will please you. In truth, it was bad taste in you, count, to suggest it."

The countess smiled behind her fan, while Maurice felt the edge of the mild reproach which had been

"I plead guilty to the impeachment. It was very wrong. Far from it that I should drink to the health of the

Philistines. Madame the countess was beating me down with her eyes, and I did not think."

Said the first: "We will leave you gentlemen to your cigars; and when they have ceased to interest you, you

"If you wish." She was almost beautiful when she smiled, and she smiled on Maurice.

"I confess," said he, "that being a prisoner, under certain circumstances, is a fine life."

"What wicked eyes he has," said the countess, as she and Madame entered the music room.

"Do not look into them too often, my dear," was the rejoinder. "I have asked not other sacrifice than that you

"Ah, Madame, that will be easy enough. But what is to prevent me from falling in love with him? He is very

"Yes, I am laughing. It will be such an amusing adventure, a souvenir for my old ageand may my old age

"Never ask your host how old his wine is. If he is proud of it, he will tell you." He blew the smoke under the

candle shades and watched it as it darted upward. "Don't you find it comfortable? I should."

"I understood that you were a diplomat?" The Colonel turned to Fitzgerald. "I hope that, when you are

"The Princess Alexia," went on the Colonel, "has a bulldog. I have always wondered till now what the

nationality of the dog was. The bulldog neither forsakes nor forgives; he is an Englishman."

This declaration was succeeded by another interval of silence. The Englishman was thinking of his father; the

thoughts of Maurice were anywhere but at the chateau; the Colonel was contemplating them both, shrewdly.

The countess was seated at the piano, improvising. Madame stood before the fireplace, arranging the pieces

on a chess board. In the center of the room was a table littered with books, magazines and illustrated

Fitzgerald drew up a chair and sat down at Madame's elbow. He followed every move she made because he

had never seen till now so round and shapely an arm, hands so small and white, tipped with pink filbert nails.

He did not learn the game so quickly as might be. He, like Maurice, was pondering over the unusual position

in which he found himself; but analysis of any sort was not his forte; so he soon forgot all save the delicate

curve of Madame's chin and throat, the soft ripple of her laughter, the abysmal gray of her eyes.

Her fingers ran lightly over the keys, and presently her voice rose in song, a song low, sweet, and sad.

Maurice peered out of the window into the shades of night. Visions passed and repassed the curtain of

darkness. Once or twice the countess turned her head and looked at him. It was not only a handsome face she

saw, but one that carried the mark of refinement. . . . Maurice was thinking of the lonely princess and her

grave dark eyes. He possessed none of that power from which princes derive benefits; what could he do? And

why should he interest himself in a woman who, in any event, could never be anything to him, scarcely even

If Fitzgerald was not adept at analysis, he was. Nothing ever entered his mind or heart that he could not

separate and define. It was strange; it was almost laughable; to have fenced as long and adroitly as he had

fenced, and then to be disarmed by one who did not even understand the foils! Surrender? Why not? . . . By

and by his gaze traveled to the chess players. There was another game than chess being played there, though

"Are you so very far away, then?" The song had ceased; the countess was looking at him curiously.

"Then I shall fetch some." It occurred to her that the room was very warm; she wanted a breath of airalone.

"A little," admitted Fitzgerald, who did not wish to learn too quickly. "I like to watch the game."

"So do I," said Maurice, who had approached the table. "I should like to know what the game is, too."

Both Madame and the Colonel appeared to accept the statement and not the innuendo. Madame placed the

Maurice strolled over to the table and aimlessly glanced through the Vienna illustrated weeklies. He saw

Franz Josef in characteristic poses, fullpage engravings of the military maneuvers and reproductions of the

notable paintings. He picked up an issue dated June. A portrait of the new Austrian ambassador to France

attracted his attention. He turned the leaf. What he saw on the following page caused him to widen his eyes

and let slip an ejaculation loud enough to be heard by the chess players. Madame seemed on the point of

"I just this moment remember that I left my gas burning at the hotel, and it is extra."

"I want to finish this cigar, Jack," said Maurice, who wished to be alone with his thoughts. He sat in the chair

by the window and lifted his feet to the sill. The night wind was warm and odorous. He had found a clue, but

through what labyrinth would it lead him? A strange adventure, indeed; so strange that he was of half a mind

that he dreamed. Prisoners. . . . Why? And these two women alone in this old chateau, a house party. There

Should he warn his friend? Indeed, as yet, of what had he to warn him? To discover Madame to Fitzgerald

would be to close the entrance to this labyrinth which he desired to explore. How would Madame act, now

that she knew he possessed her secret? Into many channels he passed, but all these were blind, and led him to

no end. Madame had a purpose; to discover what this purpose was Fitzgerald must remain in ignorance. What

a woman! She resembled one of those fabulous creatures of medieval days. And why was the countess on the

He finished his cigar and lit another; but the second cigar solved no more than the first. Mademoiselle of the

Veil! He knew now what she meant; having asked her to lift her veil, she had said, "Something terrible would

happen." At last he, too, sought bed, but he did not sleep so soundly as did Fitzgerald.

Ten days of this charming captivity passed; there was a thicker carpet of leaves on the ground, and new

distances began to show mistily through the dismantling forest. But there were no changes at the Red

Chateauno outward changes. It might, in truth, have been a house party but for the prowling troopers and

During the day they hunted or took long rides into the interior of the duchy. Both women possessed a fine

skill in the saddle. In the evenings there were tourneys at chess, games and music.

Each night Fitzgerald learned a little more about chess and a little less about woman. The countess, airy and

delicate as a verse of Voiture's, bent all her powers (and these were not inconsiderable) toward the

subjugation of Maurice. She laughed, she sang, she fascinated. She had the ability to amuse hour after hour.

She offered vague promises with her eyes, and refused them with her lips. Maurice, who was never

impregnable under the fire of feminine artillery, was at times half in love with her; but his suspicions, always

Sometimes he caught her hand and retained it over long; and once, when he kissed it, there was no rebuke.

Again, when she sang, he would lean so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek, and her fingers

would stumble into discords. Often she would suddenly rise from the piano and walk swiftly from the room,

through the halls, into the park, where, though he followed, he never could find her. One day she and

Madame returned from a walk in the forest, the one with high color and brilliant eyes, the other impassive as

ice. Now, all these things did not escape Maurice, but he could not piece them together with any result.

On the morning of the tenth day the two prisoners came down to breakfast, wondering how much longer this

"So do I," Fitzgerald echoed glumly. "I am tired of cigars and weary of those eternal cigarettes. How the

"Hang her and welcome. But why do you complain to me and not to Madame? Are you afraid of her? Does

she possess, then, what is called tamer's magnetism? O, my lion, if only you would roar a bit more at her and

"I don't know what she possesses; but I do know that I'd give a deal to be out of this."

"No, Maurice, it is not the chambermaid. I feel oppressed by something which I can not define."

He was so serious that Maurice dropped his jesting tone. "By the way," he said, "do you sleep soundly?"

"Yes. She is so troubled with sleeplessness that nothing will quiet her but the sight of the man who rides the

horse: all of which is to say that a courier arrives each night with dispatches from Bleiberg. Now, to tell the

truth, the courier does not keep me awake half so much as the thought of who is eating three meals a day at

the end of the east corridor on the third floor. But there are Madame and the countess; we have kept them

"Nothing wakes me but the roll of the drum or thunder," answered Fitzgerald diffidently.

"Bon jour, M. le Capitaine!" cried the countess. Then she added with a light laugh: "Come, let me try you.

Portons armes! Presentons armes! How beautifully you do it!Par le flanc gauche! En avantmarche!"

Maurice swung, clicked his heels and, with a covert glance at Madame, led the way into the dining hall,

"Ah, I do not see the Colonel," said Maurice; for night and day the old soldier had been with them.

The breakfast was short and merry. Words passed across the table that were as crisp as the toast. Maurice

remarked the advent of two liveried servants, stolid Germans by the way, who, as he afterward found, did not

"So the Colonel has gone to Brunnstadt?" said Maurice; which was a long way of asking why the Colonel had

"Yes," said Madame; "he has gone to consult Madame the duchess to see what shall be done to you,

"Yes. You must not forget that you promised me your sword, and I have taken the liberty of presenting it to

"I remember nothing about promising my sword," said Maurice, gazing ceilingward.

"No, Madame. I remember my words only too well. I said that I loved adventure, thoughtless youth that I

was, and that I was easy to be found. Which is all true, and part proved, since I am here."

"Still, the uniform fits you exceedingly well. The hussars hold a high place at court."

"Madame," replied he pleasantly, "I appreciate the honor, but at present my sword and fealty are sworn to my

own country. And besides, I have no desire to take part in the petty squabble between this country and the

"He is right, Madame," interposed the countess. "But away with politics! It spoils all it touches."

"And away with the duchess, too," put in Fitzgerald, reaching for a bunch of yellow grapes. "With all due

respect to your cause and beliefs, Madame the duchess, your mistress, is a bugbear to me. The very sound of

"You have not seen her Highness, Monsieur," said Madame, quietly. "Perhaps she is all that is desirable. She

is known to be rich, her will is paramount to all others. When she sets her heart on a thing she leaves no stone

unturned until she procures it. And, countess, do they not say of her that she possesses something an

"Madame the duchess," said Maurice dryly, "has a stanch advocate in you, Madame."

"Love your enemies, says the Book," was the interposition of the countess, who stole a sly glance at Maurice

"Ah, come," thought Maurice, "my friend is beginning to pick up his lines." Aloud he said: "Madame, will

you confer a favor on me by permitting me to inform my superior in Vienna of my whereabouts?"

"No, Monsieur; prisoners are not allowed to communicate with the outside world. Are you not enjoying

yourself? Is not everything being done for your material comfort? What complaint have you to offer?"

"It is but temporary. The duchess has commanded that you be held until it is her pleasure to come to the

chateau. O, Monsieur, where is your gallantry? Here the countess and I have done so much to amuse you, and

"Pretty bird! pretty bird!" said Maurice, in a piping voice, "will it have some caraway?"

Madame laughed. "Well, I hear the grooms leading the horses under the porte coch,re. Go, then, for the

morning ride. I am sorry that I can not accompany you. I have some letters to write."

Fitzgerald curled his mustache. "I'll forswear the ride myself. I was reading a good book last night; I'll finish

Madame trifled with the toast crumbs. Fitzgerald's profound dissimulation caused a smile to cross Maurice's

"Come, countess," said Maurice, gaily; "we'll take the ride together, since Madame has to write and my lord

"What a beautiful girl!" said Madame, fondly. "Poor dear! Her life has not been a bed of roses."

"No. She was formerly a maid of honor to her Highness. She made an unhappy marriage."

"And where is the count?" asked Fitzgerald in surprise. He shot a glance of dismay at Maurice, who,

"What a fine thing it is," said Maurice, rising, "to be a man and wed where and how you will!" He withdrew

to the main hall to don his cap and spurs. As he stooped to strap the latter, he saw a sheet of paper, crinkled

"The plan you suggest is worthy of you, Madame. The Englishman is fair game, being a common enemy. Let

us gain our ends through the heart, since his purse is impregnable to assaults. But the countess? Why not the

pantry maid, since the other is an American? They lack discrimination. The king grows weaker every day.

Nothing was found in the Englishman's rooms. I fear that the consols are in the safe at the British legation. As

"Whynotthepantry maid?" Maurice drawled. "That is flippant." He read the message again. "What

plan?" Suddenly he struck his thigh. "By George, so that is it, eh, Madame? So that is why we are so

comfortably lodged here? I am in the way, and you bait the hook with a countess! Since the purse will not

lead the way, the heart, eh? Certainly I shall tell my lord the Englishman all about his hostess when I return

from the ride. Decidedly you are clever. O, how careless! Not even in cipher, so that he who reads may run.

And who is B.?Beauvais! Something told me that this man had a hand in the affair. I remember the look he

"Hang my memory, which seems always to forget what I wish to remember and remember what I wish to

forget! Where have I met this man Beauvais before? Ah, the countess!" He thrust the message into his breast.

"Evidently Madame thinks I am worth consideration; uncommonly pretty bait. Shall I let the play run on, or

shall I tell her? Ah! you have two minutes to spare," he said, as she approached. "But you do not need them,"

It was an exhilarating morning, full of forest perfumes. Through the haze the mountains glittered like huge

"For plots and war?" demurely. Her cheeks were rosy and her hair as yellow as the silk of corn.

"Well, then, for love." He shortened his rein. "A propos, have you ever been in love, countess?"

"No; let us talk of love. I am in love, and one afflicted that way wishes a confidant. I appoint you mine."

"Perhaps. Perhaps it's only aa pantry maid," with a sly look from the corner of his eyes. Evidently she had

not heard. She was still laughing. "I have heard of hermits falling in love with stars, and have laughed. Now I

"Operatic? To be sure! Mademoiselle Lenormand of the Royal Vienna is in Bleiberg. How she keeps her

"And that is why you came to Bleiberg! Ah, these opera singers, had I my way, they should all be aged and

"Countess, you are pulling the bit too hard," said he. "I noticed yesterday that your horse has a very tender

"Thank you." She slacked the rein. "He was going too close to the ditch. You were saying"

"No, it was you who were saying that all actresses should be aged and homely. But it is not Mademoiselle

"The woman I love is too far away, so I am going to give up thinking of her. Countess, I made a peculiar

"Do you see that fork in the road, a mile away? When we reach it and turn I'll tell you what it is. If I told you

now it might spoil the ride. What a day, truly! How clear everything is! And the air is like wine." He drew in

Maurice did not laugh as she expected he would. As she observed the thoughtful frown between his brows, a

shiver of dread ran through her. It did not take long to cover the intervening mile. They turned, and the horses

After all . . . But he quelled the gentle tremor in his heart. A month ago, had he known her, he might now

have told her altogether a different story. He could see that she had not an inkling of what was to come (for

he had determined to tell her); and he vaguely wondered if he should bring humiliation to the dainty creature.

It would be like nicking a porcelain cup. Her brows were arched inquisitively and her lips puckered. . . .He

"Read it and see" And he busied himself with the tangled mane of his horse. When they had ridden several

"Did you not volunteer to make me fall in love with you to keep me from interfering with Madame's plans?"

"Did you not?" he persisted. "When one writes such messages as these, one should use an intricate cipher.

Had I been other than a prisoner, what I have done would not be the act of a gentleman. But I am a prisoner; I

must defend myself. To rob a man through his love! And such a man! He is a very infant in the hands of a

woman. He has been a soldier all his life. All women to him are little less than angels; he knows nothing of

their treachery, their deceit, their false smiles. It will be an easy victory, or rather it would have been, for I

shall do my best to prevent it. Madame is not unknown to me; I have been waiting to see what meant this

"Perhaps I am now too late. Madame distrusts me. I dare say she has her reasons. She went to you. You were

to occupy me. I was young, I liked the society of women, I was gay and careless. She has decked me out as

one would deck a monkey (and doubtless she calls me one behind my back), and has offered me a sword to

"In America, when a man puts a sword in his hand, it is to kill somebody. Hereaye, all over the continent,

for that matter swords are baubles for young nobles, used to slash each other in love affairs. I respect and

admire you; had I not done so, I should not have spoken. Countess, be frank with me, as frank as I have been

"Yes, Monsieur," her head bowed and her cheeks white. "Yes, yes! it was a miserable game. But I love

"And believe me when I say that the moment I saw you, I knew that my conduct was going to be detestable.

But I had given my promise. A woman has but little to offer to her country; I have offered my pride, and I am

a proud woman, Monsieur. I am ashamed. I am glad that you spoke, for it was becoming unbearable to throw

myself at a man whose heart I knew intuitively to be elsewhere." She raised her eyes, which were filled with

"With all my heart. For now I know that we shall be friends. You will be relieved of an odious part; for you

He then began gaily to describe some of his humorous adventures, and continued in this vein till they arrived

once more at the chateau. Sometimes the countess laughed, but he could see that her sprightliness was gone.

When they came under the porte cochere he sprang from his horse and assisted her to dismount; and he did

not relinquish her hand till he had given it a friendly pressure. She stood motionless on the steps, centered a

look on him which he failed to interpret, then ran swiftly into the hall, thence to her room, the door of which

"It would not be difficult," he mused, communing with the thought which had come to him. "It would be

He turned over the horses to the grooms, and went in search of Fitzgerald to inform him of his discovery; but

the Englishman was nowhere to be found. Neither was Madame. Being thirsty, he proceeded to the dining

"Sometimes," faintly. She could not withstand his glance, so she retired a few more steps, only to find herself

With a laugh he sprang forward and caught her face between his hands and imprinted a kiss on her left cheek.

Suddenly she wrenched herself loose, uttered a frightened cry and fled down the pantryway.

"What's the matter with the girl?" he muttered aloud. "I wanted to ask her some questions."

Maurice wheeled. It was Madame, but her face expressed nothing. He saw that he had been caught. The

humor of the situation got the better of him, and he laughed. Madame ignored this unseemly hilarity.

"Permit me to apologize. As to your kindness, I have just discovered that it is of a most dangerous quality."

"I mean that I could not kiss Madame the countess with the same sense of security as I could the pantry

Just now Madame's face expressed a good deal. "Of what are you talking?" advancing a step.

"I had in mind what our friend, Colonel Beauvais, remarked in his recent dispatch: I know no discrimination.

The fact is, I do. I found the dispatch on the floor this morning. Allow me to return it to you. I have kept

"To read it? Aye. I am a prisoner; it was in selfdefense. Madame, you do me great honor. A countess! What

consideration to the indiscriminate! Au revoir, then, till luncheon;" and he left the room, whistling

At no time during the afternoon did Maurice find the opportunity to speak privately to Fitzgerald. Madame

hovered about, chatting, smiling and humming snatches of song. She seemed to have formed a sudden

attachment for Maurice; that is to say, she could not bear to lose sight of him, not for the briefest moment.

He swallowed his chagrin, for he could but confess that it was sugarcoated. Madame had at last considered

his case, and had labeled him dangerous. Somehow a man always likes to be properly valued. It

Well, well; however affectionate Madame might be, she could scarcely carry it beyond the threshold of his

chamber, and he was determined to retire at an early hour. But he had many things to learn.

Fitzgerald was abandoned to the countess, who had still much color to regain. From time to time the

Englishman looked over his shoulder to see what was going on between Madame and his friend, and so

The blackberries were ripe along the stone walls which surrounded the chateau. Maurice wandered here and

there, plucking what fruit he could find. Now and then he would offer a branch to Madame. At length, as

though by previous arrangement with Madame, the countess led Fitzgerald around to the other side of the

chateau, so that Madame and Maurice were alone. Immediately the smile, which had rested on her lips,

vanished. Her companion was gazing mountainward, and cogitating. How fared those in Bleiberg?

"What exquisite tints in the skies!" went on the voice; "what matchless color in the forests!"

"But what a terrible thing it would be if one should die suddenly, or be thrown into a windowless dungeon,

Maurice plucked another berry, but he did not eat it. Instinctively he turnedand met a pair of eyes as hard

"If it were, I should say that you had discovered that I know too much. I suspected from the first; the picture

merely confirmed my suspicions. I see now that it was thoughtless in me not to have told my friend; but it is

"Till today, Madame, you had not given me your particular consideration." Then, as if the conversation was

not interesting him, he returned to the berries. "There's a fine one there. It's a little high; but then!" He tiptoed,

"To begin with, you say that I did not show you consideration. Few princes have been shown like

"I was wrong. It is not every man that has a countessand a pretty one, too!thrown at his head."

Madame was temporarily silenced by this retort; it upset her calculations. She scrutinized the clean, smooth

face, and she saw lines which had hitherto escaped her notice. She was at last convinced that she had to

contend with a man, a man who had dealt with both men and women. How deep was he? Could honors, such

as she could give, and money plumb the depths? . . . He was an American. She smiled the smile of duplicity.

"Honors? To what greater honor may I aspire than that which is written in my passports?"

"That I am a citizen of the United States of America. It would not be good taste in me to accept honors save

Again Madame found her foil turned aside. She began to lose patience. Her boot patted the sod. "Monsieur,

since the countess is not high enough, since gold and honors have no charm, listen."

"I permit you to witness the comic opera, but I shall allow no prompting from outsiders."

"Madame, do you expect me to sit calmly by and see my friend made a fool?" He spoke warmly and his eyes

"Madame, you are a beautiful woman; heaven has endowed you with something more than beauty. Is it

"If you have no conscience, Madame, I have. I shall warn him. You shall not dishonor him if I can prevent it.

You wish to win his love, and you have gauged the possibilities of it so accurately that you know you will

have but to ask, be it his honor or his life. A far finer thing it would be for you to win your crown at the point

of the sword. There would be a little glory in it then. But even then, the world would laugh at you. For you

would be waging war against a lonely woman, a paralytic king, a prelate who is a man of peace. What

"But to gain your ends by treachery and deceit, to rob a man of his brains and heart, laughing the while in

your sleeve; to break his life and make him curse all women, from Eve to you and the mother who bore him!

Ah, Madame, let me plead with you. Give him his liberty. Let him go back and complete the task imposed on

him. Do not break his life, for life is more than a crown; do not compel him to sully his honor, for honor is

"Your cause is just, I will admit, but do not tarnish it by such detestable means. 'Tis true that a crown to me

signifies nothing, but life and honor are common to us both. With all his strength and courage, my friend is

helpless. All his life he has been without the society of women. If he should love youGod help him! His

love would be without calculation, without reason, blind and furious. Madame, do not destroy him."

Sometimes, in the passing, we are stopped by the sound of a voice. It is not the words it utters, nor the range

nor tone. It is something indefinable, and, though we can not analyze it, we are willing to follow wherever it

leads. Such a voice Maurice possessed, though he was totally ignorant of its power. But Madame, as she

listened, felt its magic influence, and for a moment the spell rendered her mute.

"Monsieur, you have missed your vocation; you plead well, indeed. Unfortunately, I can not hear; my ears are

of wax. No, no! I have nourished these projects too long; they are a part of me. Laughed at, you say? Have I

not been laughed at from one end of the continent to the other?" passionately. "It is my turn now, and woe to

those who have dared to laugh. I shall sweep all obstacles away; nothing shall stop me. Mine the crown is,

and mine it shall be. I am a woman, and I wished to avoid bloodshed. But not even that shall stay me; not

even love!" Her bosom heaved, her hands were clenched, and her gray eyes flashed like troubled waters in

"No, I am wrong. If you loved him you would prize above all else this honor of which you intend to rob him."

"I brought you here not to discuss whether I am right or wrong. Look about you."

Maurice was somewhat troubled to discover several troopers lounging about just out of earshot. They were so

arranged as to prevent egress from the park. He looked thoughtfully at the wall. It was eight feet in height.

There was a noise on the other side of the wall, and presently a head bobbed up.

"Nothing. I wished to know if you were at your post." She turned to Maurice, who was puzzled to know what

all this was preamble to. "Monsieur Carewe, I never forget details. I had an idea that when I submitted my

"There are only two. If you do not promise here and now in no way to interfere with my plans, these troopers

will convey you to Brunnstadt, where you will be kept in confinement until the succession to the throne is

decided one way or the other. The other proposal is, if you promise and I have faith in your wordthe

situation will continue the same as at present. Choose, Monsieur. Which is it to be?"

"You would miss what you call the comic opera, but which to me is all there is in life. You say that I have

read your friend well. That is true. Do you think that it is easy for me to lessen myself in my own eyes? No

woman lives who is prouder than I. Remember, you are not to hint at what I propose to do, nor who I am.

See! It is all because you read something which was not intended for your eyes. Be my friend, or be my

enemy, it is a matter of indifference to me. You have only yourself to blame. Had you gone about your

business and not intruded where you were not wanted, neither you nor your friend would be here. No

interference from you, Monsieur; that is the understanding." She raised her hand and made a sign, and the

troopers took themselves off. "Now you may goto the countess, if you wish; though I dare say that she will

Fitzgerald sat by a window in the music room. He had resurrected from no one knew where a clay with a

broken stem. There was a thoughtful cast to his countenance, and he puffed away, blissfully unconscious of,

or indifferent to, the close proximity of the velvet curtains. A thrifty housewife, could she have seen the

smoke rise and curl and lose itself in the folds above, would have experienced the ecstasy of anxiety and

perturbation. But there was no thrifty housewife at the Red Chateau, nothing but dreams of conquest and

Twilight was gathering about, softfooted and shadowful. Long reaches of violet and vermilion clouds

pressed thickly on the western line of hills. The mists began to rise, changing from opal to sapphire. The

fantastic melodies of wandering gypsy songs went throbbing through the room; rollicking gavots, Hungarian

dances, low and slumbrous nocturnes. As the music grew sadder and dreamier, the smoker moved uneasily.

Somehow, it gripped his heart; and the long years of loneliness returned and overwhelmed him. They

marshaled past, thirteen in all; and there were glimpses of deserts, snowcapped mountains, men moving in the

blur of smoke, long watches in the night. Thirteen years in Godforsaken outposts, with never a sight of a

woman's face, the sound of her voice, the swish of her gown, nor a touch of the spell which radiates from her

He had never made friends. Others had come up to him and passed him, and had gone to the cities, leaving

him to bear the brunt of the cold, the heat, the watchfulness. He had made his bed; he was too much his

father's son to whine because it was hard. Often he used to think how a few words, from a pride humbled,

would have removed the barrier. But the words never came, nor was the pride ever humbled.

Out of all the thirteen years he could remember only six months of pleasure. He had been transferred

temporarily to Calcutta, where his Colonel, who had received secret information concerning him, had treated

him like a gentleman, and had employed him as regimental interpreter, for he spoke French and German and

a smattering of Indian tongues. During his lonely hours he had studied, for he knew that some day he would

be called upon to administer a vast fortune. . . . He laid the pipe on the sill, rested his elbows beside it, and

dropped his chin in his hands. What a fool he had been to waste the best years of his life! His father would

have opened to him a boundless career; he would have seen the world under the guidance of a master hand.

And here he was today, the possessor of millions, a beggar in friends, no niche to fill, a wanderer from place

The old pile in England, he never wished to see it again; the memories which it would arouse would be too

bitter. . . . The shade of Beethoven touched him as it passed; Mozart, Mendelssohn, Chopin. But he was

thinking only of his loneliness, and the marvelous touch of the hands which evoked the great spirits was lost

Maurice was seated in one of the gloomy corners. He had still much good humor to recover. He pulled at his

lips, and wondered from time to time what was going on in Fitzgerald's head. Poor devil! he thought; could

he resist this woman whose accomplishments were so varied that at one moment she could overthrow a

throne and at the next play Phyllis to some strolling Corydon? Since he himself, who knew her, could

entertain for her nothing but admiration, what hope was there for the Englishman? What a woman! She

savored of three hundred years off. To plan by herself, to arrange the minutest detail, and above all to wait

patiently! Patience has never been the attribute of a woman of power; Madame possessed both patience and

The countess was seated in another dark corner. Suddenly she arose and said, in a voice blended with great

trouble and impatience: "For pity's sake, Madame, cease those dirges! Play something lively; I am sad."

The music stopped, but presently began again. Maurice leaned forward. Madame was playing Chopin's

polonaise. He laughed silently. He was in Madame's thoughts. It struck him, however, that the notes had a

Immediately a servant entered with candles and retired. Maurice, when his eyes had grown accustomed to the

lights, scanned the three faces. Madame's was radiant. Fitzgerald's was a mixturea comical mixtureof

content and enjoyment, but the countess's was as colorless as the wax in the candlesticks. He asked himself

what other task she had to perform that she should take so long to recover her roses. Had the knowledge of

She was speaking to him. "Monsieur, will you walk with me in the park? I am faint."

"Are you ill, countess?" asked Madame, coming up and placing her hand under the soft round chin of the

"Not so ill, Madame, that a breath of fresh air will not revive me." When they had gained the park, the

countess said to Maurice: "Monsieur, I have brought you here to tell you something. I fear that your friend is

"It is too late," lowly. "I have been Madame's understudy too long not to read. Forgive me. I was to keep you

apart; I have done so. The evil can not now be repaired. Your hope is that Madame has not fully considered

"Sentiment?love?" She uttered a short, incredulous laugh. "Madame has brain, not heart. Could a woman

"Monsieur, do not be unkind. I have asked your forgiveness. Let us not talk; let us be silent and listen to the

Maurice floated. As he leaned beside her a strand of perfumed hair blew across his nostrils. . . . The princess

was at best a dream. It was not likely that he ever would speak to her again. The princess was a poem,

unlettered and unrhymed. But here, close to him, was a bit of beautiful material prose. The hair again blew

out toward him and he moved his lips. She heard the vague sound and lifted her head.

Far away came the call of the sentry; a horse whinneyed in the stables. There was in the air the odor of an

Some time passed before Fitzgerald became aware of Maurice's departure. When he saw that he and Madame

were alone, he said nothing, but pulled all the quicker at his clay. He wondered at the desire which suddenly

manifested itself. Fly? Why should he fly? The beat of his pulse answered him. . . . What a fine thing it was

to feel the presence of a womana woman like this! What a fine thing always to experience the content

He looked into his heart; there was no animosity; there was nothing at all but a sense of gratefulness. In the

dreary picture of his life there was now an illumined corner. He had ceased to blame her; she was doing for

her country what he, did necessity so will, would do for his. And after all, he could not war against a

How soft her voice was! The color of her hair and eyes followed him night and day. Once he had been on the

verge of sounding Maurice in regard to Madame, Maurice was so learned in femininities; but this would have

been an acknowledgment of his ignorance, and pride closed his mouth. It was all impossible, but then, why

should he return to his loneliness without attempting to find some one to share it with him? The king was

safe; his duty was as good as done; his conscience was at ease in that direction. He needed not love, he

thought, so much as sympathy. . . . Sympathy. He turned over the word in his mind as a gem merchant turns

over in his hand a precious jewel. Sympathy; it was the key to all he desired woman's sympathy. There

Madame was seated at the piano again, idly thrumming soft minor chords. She was waiting for him to speak;

she wanted to test his voice, to know and measure its emotion. At times she turned her head and shot a sly

glance at him as he sat there musing. There was a wrinkle of contempt and amusement lurking at the corners

of her eyes. Had Maurice been there he would have seen it. Fitzgerald might have gazed into those eyes until

doomsday, and never have seen else than their gray fathoms. Minute after minute passed, still he did not

speak; and Madame was forced to break the monotony. She was not sure that the countess could hold

He started, looked up and laid the pipe on the sill. "Frankly, I was thinking that nothing can be gained by

"Forgiveness? O, there is nothing to forgive you; it is only your mistress I can not forgive. On the contrary,

"Still, whatever I do or have done is merely in accordance with her Highness's wishes."

"Yes; the heart of Madame Amerbach is supine to the brain of Madame the duchess." She rose and moved

silently to the window and peered out. He thought her to be stargazing; but she was not. She was

And then, out of the fullness of his lonely heart, he told her all about his life, its emptiness, its deserts, its

longings. Each sentence was a knife placed in her hands; and as she contemplated his honest face which

could conceal nothing, his earnest eyes which could hide nothing, Madame was conscious of a vague distrust

of herself. If only he had offered to fight, she thought. But he had not; instead, he was giving to her all his

"Why should you be friendly to me when I represent all that is antagonistic to you?"

"He is a good teacher. He is one of those men whom I admire. Women have never mastered him. He knows

"Beneath all his banter there is a brave heart. He is a rare man who, having brain and heart to guide, follows

the heart." He picked up the pipe and began to play a tattoo on the sill. "As for me, I know nothing of women,

save what I have read in books, and save that I have been too long without them."

"And you have gone all these years without knowing what it is to love?" To a man less guileless, this

"Yes." He continued to tap the pipe. His gaze wandered to the candles, strayed back to the window, then met

"I? No; love is sacred." She had boasted to Maurice that she was without conscience; she had only smothered

"That does not matter; I am." He was wishing that Maurice would hurry back; the desire to fly was returning.

"She has not rejected me, though I dare say she would, had I the presumption to ask her."

"My heart is not faint; it is my tongue." He rose and wandered about the room. Her breath was like orris, and

"Monsieur," she said, "is it possible that you have succumbed to the charms of Madame the countess?"

"Bricabrac! Poor Elsa!" and Madame laughed. "If it were the countess I could aid you."

Madame's cheeks grew warm. Sometimes the trick of fence is beaten down by a tyro's stroke.

He came toward her so swiftly that instinctively she rose and moved to the opposite side of her chair.

Something in his face caused her to shiver. She had no time to analyze its meaning, but she knew that the

"Yes, there is no self in my thoughts since they are all of you! You know that I love you. Who could resist

you? Thirteen years? They are well wasted, in the end to love a woman like you."

Before she could withdraw her hands from the top of the chair he had seized them.

"Monsieur, Monsieur!" she, cried, genuinely alarmed; "do not forget that you are a gentleman."

Madame was now aware that what she had aroused could not be subdued by angry words.

"Monsieur, you say that you love me; do not degrade me by forcing me into your arms. I am a woman, and

He let go her hands, and they stood there, breathing deeply and quickly. But for her it was a respite. She had

been too precipitate. She brought together the subtle forces of her mind. She could gain nothing by force; she

must use cunning. To hold him at arm's length, and yet to hold him, was her desire. She had reckoned on

wax; a man stood before her. All at once the flutter of admiration stirred in her heart. She was a soldier's

daughter, the daughter of a man who loved strong men. And this man was doubly strong because he was

fearless and honest. She read in his eyes that a moment more and he had kissed her, a thing no man save her

"O, Monsieur," she said lightly, "you soldiers are such forward lovers! You have not even asked me if I love

you." He made a move to regain her hands. "No, no!" darting behind the chair. "You must not take my hands;

you do not realize how strong you are. I am not sure that my heart responds to yours."

"You must have patience. A woman must be wooed her own way, or not at all. What a whirlwind you are!"

"I would to heaven," with a gesture indicative of despair, "that you had kept me behind bars and closed

doors." He dropped his hands from the chair and sought the window, leaning his arms against the central

"It is true," she said, "that I do not love you, but it is also true that I am not indifferent to you. What proof

have I that you really love me? None, save your declaration; and that is not sufficient for a woman such as I

am. Shall I place my life in your hands for better or for worse, simply because you say you love me?"

She passed over this stroke. "I do not know you; it is not less than natural for me to doubt you. What proof

have I that your declaration of love is not a scheme to while away your captivity at my expense? My heart is

not one to be taken by storm. There is only one road to my affections; it is narrow. Other men have made love

"And what is this narrow road called which leads to your affections? Is your heart a citadel?"

"It is called sacrifice. Those who dwell in my heart, which you call a citadel, enter by that road."

"Sacrifice?" Fervor lighted his face again. "Do you wish my fortune? It is yours. My life? It is yours. Do you

wish me to lead the army of the duchess into Bleiberg? It shall be done. Sacrifice? I have sacrificed the best

"Monsieur, if I promised to listen to you hereafter, if I promised a heart that has never known the love of

man, if I promised lips that have never known the lips of any man save my father" She moved away from

the chair, within an arm's length of him. "If I promised all these without reservation, would you aid me to

Instantly her arms were pinioned to her sides, and he had drawn her so close that she could feel his heart beat

"Have no fear," he said. The voice was unfamiliar to her ears. "I shall not kiss you. Let me look into your

eyes, Madame, your eyes, and read the lie which is written there. My fortune and my life are not enough.

Keep your love, Madame; I have no wish to purchase it. What! if I surrender my honor it is agreed that you

surrender yours? A love such as mine requires a wife. You would have me break my word to the dead and to

the living, and you expect me to believe in your promises! Faugh!" He pushed her from him, and resumed his

The hate of a thousand ancestors surged into her heart, and she would have liked to kill him. Mistress! He had

dared. He had dared to speak to her as no other man living or dead had dared. And he lived. All that was

tigerish in her soul rose to the surface; only the thought of the glittering goal stayed the outburst. She had yet

one weapon. A minute went by, still another; silence. A hand was laid tremblingly on his arm.

"Forgive me! I was wrong. Love me, love me, if you must. Keep your honor; love me without conditions.

Fitzgerald, dumfounded and dismayed, looked. down at the beautiful head. He could fight angry words,

"Madame, for God's sake, do not weep! Do you love me? If you love meif you love me"

She sprang to her feet. Once again she experienced that shiver; again her conscience stirred.

"I do not know," she said. "But this I may say: your honor, which you hold above the price of a woman's

love, will be the cause of bloodshed. Mothers and wives and sisters will execrate your name, brave men will

be sacrificed needlessly. What are the Osians to you? They are strangers. You will do for them, and uselessly,

what you refuse to do for the woman you profess to love. I abhor bloodshed. Your honor is the offspring of

pride and egotism. Can you not see the inevitable? War will be declared. You can not help Leopold; but you

can save him the degradation of being expelled from his throne by force of arms. The army of the duchess is

true to its humblest sword. Can you say that for the army of the king? Would you witness the devastation of a

"Monsieur, Austria is with us, and she will abide with us whichever way we move. Austria, Monsieur, which

is Leopold's sponsor. And this Leopold, is he a man to sit upon a throne? Is he a king in any sense of the

word? Would a king submit to such ignominy as he submits to without striking a blow? Would he permit his

ministers to override him? Would he permit his army to murmur, his agents to plunder, his people to laugh at

him, if he possessed one kingly attribute? No, no! If you were king, would you allow these things? No! You

would silence all murmurs, you would disgorge your agents, you would throttle those who dared to laugh.

"Put yourself in the duchess's place. All these beautiful lands are hers by right of succession; is she wrong to

desire them? What does she wish to accomplish? She wishes to join the kingdom and the duchy, and to make

a great kingdom, as it formerly was. Do you know why Leopold was seated upon the throne?

"Some day the confederation will decide to divide all these lands into tidbits, and there will be no one to

oppose them. Madame the duchess wishes to be strong enough to prevent it. And you, Monsieur, are the grain

of sand which stops all this, you and your pride. Not even a woman's love There, I have said it! not even

a woman's love will move your sense of justice. Go! leave me. Since my love is nothing, since the

sacrifice I make is useless, go; you are free!" The tears which came into her eyes this time were genuine;

tears of chagrin, vexation, and of a third sensation which still remained a mystery to her.

To him, as she spoke, with her wonderful eyes flashing, a rich color suffusing her cheeks and throat and

temples, the dim candle light breaking against the ruddy hair; honor or pride, whichever it was, was well

worth the losing. He was a man; it is only the pope who is said to be infallible. His honor could not save the

king. All she had said was true. If he held to his word there would be war and bloodshed.

On the other hand, if he surrendered, less harm would befall the king, and the loss of his honor was it

honor?would be well recompensed for the remainder of his days by the love of this woman. His long years

of loneliness came back; he wavered. He glanced first at her, then at the door; one represented all that was

desirable in the world, the other more loneliness, coupled with unutterable regret. Still he wavered, and

"Yes." And it seemed to her that the word, came to her lips by no volition of hers. As she had grown red but a

moment gone, she now grew correspondingly pale, and her limbs shook. She had irrevocably committed

herself. "No, no!" as she saw him start forward with outstretched arms,. "not my lips till I am your wife! Not

It was time. Maurice and the countess entered the room. Maurice glanced from Madame to Fitzgerald and

back to Madame; he frowned. The Englishman, who had never before had cause to dissemble, caught up his

pipe and fumbled it. This act merely discovered his embarrassment to the keen eyes of his friend. He had

forgotten all about Maurice. What would he say? Maurice was something like a conscience to him, and his

"Madame," Maurice whispered to the countess, "I have lost all faith in you; you have kept me too long under

"O, no," said Maurice. "I simply complained that Madame the countess had kept me too long under the stars.

But here is Colonel Mollendorf, freshly returned from Brunnstadt to inform you that the army is fully

prepared for any emergency. Is not that true, Colonel?" as he beheld that individual standing in the doorway.

"Yes; but how the deuceyour pardon, ladies! did you find that out?" demanded the Colonel.

"I guessed it," was the answer. "But there will be no need of an army now. Come, John, the Colonel, who is

no relative of the king's minister of police, has not the trick of concealing his impatience. He has something

important to say to Madame, and we are in the way. Come along, AEneas, follow your faithful Achates;

Fitzgerald thrust his pipe into a pocket. "Good night, Madame," he said diffidently; "and you, countess."

"Good night, Colonel," sang out Maurice over his shoulder, and together the pair climbed the stairs.

Fitzgerald was at a loss how to begin, for something told him that Maurice would demand an explanation,

though the affair was none of his concern. He filled his pipe, fired it and tramped about the room. Sometimes

he picked up the end of a window curtain and felt of it; sometimes he posed before one of the landscape oils.

"You have something on your mind," said Maurice, pulling off his hussar jacket and kicking it across the

Fitzgerald pondered over the other's lack of surprise. "What would you do if you loved a woman and she

"What would you do in my place, and Madame had promised to marry you?" puffing quickly.

"I'd marry her," answered Maurice, banging his fist on the table, "even if all the kings and queens of Europe

rose up against me. I would marry her, if I had to bind her hands and feet and carry her to the altar and force

the priest at the point of a pistol, which, in all probability, is what you will have to do."

"She is a woman without conscience; she is a woman who, to gain her miserable ends, will stop neither at

"Maurice, tell me nothing which will cause me to regret your friendship. I love her; she has promised to be

"Yes! For the promise of her love I am dishonored. For the privilege of kissing her lips I have sold my honor.

To call her mine, I would go through hell. God! do you know what it is to be lonely, to starve in

"You are a very sick man," Maurice replied crossly. "What's to become of all these vows"

"You are wasting your breath! Do you remember what Rochefoucauld said of Madame de

Longueville?`To win her heart, to delight her beautiful eyes, I have taken up arms against the king; I

would have done the same against the gods!' Is she not worth it all?" with a gesture of his arms which sent the

live coals of his pipe cometlike across the intervening space. "Is she not worth it all?"

"I will, if you say so. The situation is equal to a good deal of plain, honest damning." Maurice banged his fist

again. "John, sit down and listen to me. I'll not sit still and see you made a fool. Promises? This woman will

keep none. When she has wrung you dry she will fling you aside. At this moment she is probably laughing

behind your back. You were brought here for this purpose. Threats and bribes were without effect. Love

might accomplish what the other two had failed to do. You know little of the ways of the world. Do you

know that this house party is scandalous, for all its innocence? Do you know that Madame's name would be a

byword were it known that we have been here more than two weeks, alone with two women? Who but a

woman that feels herself above convention would dare offer this affront to society? Do you know why

Madame the countess came? Company for Madame? No; she was to play make love to me to keep me out of

the way. Ass that I was, I never suspected till too late! Madame's name is not Sylvia Amerbach; it is"

"Your voices are rather high, gentlemen," he said calmly, and sat down in an easy chair.

Maurice leaped to his feet, a menace in his eyes. The Colonel crossed his legs, rested his hands on the hilt of

"I want to give you the countersigns, so that when you start for Bleiberg tomorrow morning you'll have no

"Bleiberg. Madame desires me to say to you that you are to start for that city in the morning, to fetch those

slips of parchment which have caused us all these years of worry. Ah, my friend," to Fitzgerald, "Madame

"Impertinent?" The Colonel uncrossed his legs and brought his knees together. "Madame has been under my

care since she was a child, Monsieur; I have a fatherly interest in her. At any rate, I am glad that the affair is

at an end. It was very noble in you. If I had had my way, though, it would have been war, pure and simple. I

left the duchess in Brunnstadt this morning; she will be delighted to attend the wedding."

"She will attend it," said Maurice, grimly; "but I would not lay odds on her delight. Colonel, the devil take me

The Colonel rose and followed him. "Pardon me," he said to Fitzgerald, who did not feel at all complimented

by Madame's haste; "a few words in Monsieur Carewe's ear. He will go to Bleiberg; he will be glad to go."

He bent towards Maurice. "Go to Bleiberg, my son. A word to him about Madame, and off you go to

Brunnstadt. Will you be of any use there? I think not. The little countess would cry out her pretty eyes if she

heard that you were languishing in the city prison at Brunnstadt, where only the lowest criminals are

confined. Submit gracefully, that is to say, like a soldier against whom the fortunes of war have gone. Go to

"I'll go. I give up." It was not the threat which brought him to this decision. It was a vision of a madonnalike

"Between the mattresses and the slats of my bed you will find a gun in a case. The certificates are in the

barrels." His countenance did not express any particular happiness; the lines about his mouth were sharper

"The devil!" cried the Colonel; "if only I had known that!" He laughed. "Well, I'll leave you. Six

o'clockwhat's this?" as he stooped and picked up Maurice's castoff hussar jacket.

"I was about to use it as a door mat," said Maurice, who was in a nasty humor. That Fitzgerald had

surrendered did not irritate him half so much as the thought that he was the real puppet. His hands were tied,

The Colonel reddened under his tan. "No; I'll not lose my temper, though this is cause enough. Curse me, but

you lack courtesy. This is my uniform, and whatever it may be to you it is sacred to me. You were not forced

into it; you were not compelled to wear it. What would you do if a man wore your uniform and flung it

"I'd knock him down," Maurice admitted. "I apologize, Colonel; it was not manly. But you must make

allowances; my good nature has suffered a severe strain. I'll get into my own clothes to morrow if you will

have a servant sew on some buttons and mend the collar. By the way, who is eating three meals a day in the

"I like you," he said; "hang me if I don't. But as well as I like you, I would not give a denier for your life if

you were found in that selfsame corridor. The sentinel has orders to shoot; but don't let that disturb you; you

will know sooner or later. It is better to wait than be shot. A horse will be saddled at six. You will find it in

The Colonel's departure was followed by a period of temporary speechlessness. Maurice smoked several

"In the stables. It isn't the pipe, it's the tobacco. I had to break up some cigars."

Then came another period in the conversation. It occurred to both that something yawned between thema

kind of abyss. Out of this abyss one saw his guilt arise. . . . A woman stood at his side. He had an accomplice.

He had thrown the die, and he would stand stubbornly to it. His pride built yet another wall around him,

impregnable either to protests or to sneers. He loved that was recompense enough. A man will forgive

As for the other, he beheld a trust betrayed, and he was powerless to prevent it. Besides, his selflove

smarted, chagrin made eyes at him; and, more than all else, he recognized his own share in the Englishman's

fall from grace. It had been innocent mischief on his part, true, but nevertheless he stood culpable. He had no

business to talk to a woman he did not know. The more he studied the aspects of the situation the more

whimsical it grew. He was the prime cause of a king losing his throne, of a man losing his honor, of a

"No, John; whom the gods destroy they first make mad. You will come to your senses when it is too late."

"What shall I do?" He emptied the ashes from his pipe, and rose; all that was aggressive came into his face. "I

will bind her hands and feet and carry her to the altar, and shoot the priest that refuses to marry us. O

This night it was the Englishman who sat up till the morning hours. Sylvia Amerbach. . . . A fear possessed

Midnight in Madame's boudoir; no light save that which streamed rosily from the coals in the grate. The

countess sat with her slippered feet upon the fender. She held in her hand a screen, and if any thoughts

"Heu!" said Madame from the opposite side; "it is all over. It was detestable. I, to suffer this humiliation! Do

you know what I have done? I have promised to be his wife! His wife, I! Is it not droll?" There was a

"There is nothing to tell, Madame, save that my sacrifices are at an end. I have nothing left."

"I did not say that I should desert you; I said that I had no more sacrifices to make." The Countess rose. "For

your sake, Madame, because you have always been kind to me, and because it is impossible not to love you, I

have degraded myself. I have pretended to love a man who saw through the artifice and told me so, to save

"And you will use this love which you have gainedthis first love of a man who has known no other and

will know no other while he lives! to bring about his ruin? This other, at whose head you threw

mebeware of him. He is lighthearted and gay, perhaps. You call him a clown; he is cunning and brave;

and unless you judge him at his true value, your fabric of schemes will fall ere it reaches its culmination.

Could even you trick him with words? No. You were compelled to use force. Is he not handsome, Madame?"

with a feverish gaiety. "Is there a gentleman at your court who is a more perfect cavalier? Why, he blushes

like a woman! Is there in your court" But her sentence broke, and she could not go on.

"Yes, Madame, yes; they call it a species of madness." Then, with a sudden gust of wrath: "Why did you not

leave me in peace? You have destroyed me! O, the shame of it!" and she fled into her own room.

Maurice was up betimes next morning. The hills and valleys lay under a mantle of sparkling rime, and the

very air, keen of edge and whistling, glistened in the sunlight. The iron shoes of the horses beat sharply on the

stone flooring of the court yard. Maurice examined his riding furniture; pulled at the saddle, tugged at the rein

buckles, lifted the leather flaps and tried the stirrup straps. It was not that he doubted the ability of the groom;

Fitzgerald watched him, and meditated. Some of his thoughts were not pleasant. His eyes were heavy. At

times he would lift his shoulders and permit half a smile to flicker over his lips; a certain thought caused this.

The Colonel sat astride a broad chested cavalry horse, spotless white. He was going to accompany Maurice

to the frontier. He had imbibed the exhilarating tonic of the morning, and his spirits ran high. At length

Maurice leaped into the saddle, caught the stirrups well, and signaled to the Colonel that he was ready.

"Yes, John; all the world loves a lover. Besides, it is a glorious morning for a ride. Up, portcullis, down

And away they went through the gateway, into the frosted road. Maurice felt the spirit of some medieval

ancestor creep into his veins and he longed for an hour of the feudal days, to rescue a princess from some

dungeonkeep and to harry an overlord. After all, she was a wonderful woman, and Fitzgerald was only a

"En avant!" cried the Colonel. "A fine day, a fine day for the house of Auersperg!"

"And a devilish bad one for the houses of Fitzgerald and Carewe. Woman's ambition, coupled with her

deceit, is the root of all evil; money is simply an invention of man to protect himself from her encroachments.

Eve was ambitious and deceitful; all women are her daughters. When the pages of history grow dull"

"Time puts a maggot in my lady's brain," supplemented the Colonel. "It is like a row of dominoes. The power

behind the throne, the woman behind the power; an impulse moves the woman, and lo! how they clatter

down. But without woman, history would be poor reading. The greatest battles in the world, could we but see

behind, were fought for women. Men are but footnotes, and unfortunately history is made up of footnotes.

"Ah, if you but knew what a pleasure it is for an old man like me to have a finger in the game time plays! To

meddle with affairs, directly or indirectly! Kingdoms are but judy shows, kings and queens but puppets; but

"Would you believe an old man like me could lay such a train? All this was my idea. It was difficult to get

Madame to agree with my views. War? I am not afraid of it; I am suspicious of it. One day your friend

returned a personal letter of Madame's having written across it, `I laugh at you.' It was very foolish. No man

laughs at Madame more than once. She will, one day, return this letter to him. A crown, a fine revenge, in one

"You remember his father; he will prove his father's son, every inch of him. O, my Colonel, the curtain has

"It was rather bad taste in Madame. It was putting love and patriotism to questionable purposes. I am a

"It was out of consideration for you; Madame was not quite sure about you. But you are right; all of it has

rather a dark shade. You may rob a man of his valuables and give them back; a broken word is not to be

mended. Why did you keep the hiding place so secret? I could have got those consols, and all this would have

"We are trusting you; I might have gone myself. You will return with the treasure. Why have I not asked your

word? Curiosity will bring you back; curiosity. Besides this, you have an idea that with your presence about,

a flaw in the glass may be found. Yes, you will be back. History is to be made; when you are old you will

glance at the page and say: `Look there; rather a pretty bit, eh? Well, I helped to make it; indeed, had it not

been for me and my curiosity it would not have been made at all.' Above all things, do not stop to talk to

There was a chuckling sound. "I say, your Englishman is clever now and then. In the gun barrels! Who would

have looked for them there? But why did he come himself? Why did he not trust to his bankers? Why did he

not turn over the affair to his representative, the British minister? There were a hundred ways of averting the

catastrophe. Why did he not use a little fore thought when he knew how anxious we were for his

"Why does the moon rise at night and the sun at dawn? I am no Cumaean Sybil. Perhaps it is the impulse

which moves the woman behind the power behind the throne; they call it fate. Had I been in his place I dare

Not long after they arrived at the frontier where they were to separate, to meet again under conditions

"Rail on, my son; call it by any name you please, only do not interrupt the prompter;" and with this the

Maurice began the journey through the mountain pass, thinking and planning and scheming. However he

looked at the situation, the end was the same: the Osians were doomed. If he himself played false and

retained the certificates until too late to be of benefit to the duchess, war would follow; and the kingdom

would be soundly beaten. . . . Would Prince Frederick still hold to his agreement and marry her Royal

Highness, however ill the fortunes of war fared? There was a swift current of blood to his heart. The

Voitureverse of a countess faded away. . . . Supposing Prince Frederick withdrew his claims? Some day her

Highness would be free; free, without title or money or shelter. It was a wild dream. Was there not, when all

She was lonely, friendless, personally known to few. Still, she would be an Osian princess for all her

misfortunes. But an Osian princess was not so great that love might not possess her. Without royalty she

would be only a woman. What would Austria do; what would Austria say? If Austria had placed Leopold on

And who was this man Beauvais, who served one house openly and another under the rose? Where had he

met him before, and why did the thought of him cause unrest? To rescue her somehow, to win her love, to see

the glory of the world light the heavens in her eyes! If the dream was mad, it was no less pleasant.

He was a commoner; he had nothing in the world but his brain and his arm. Fitzgerald, now, possessed a

famous title and an ancient name. These kings and princes hereabout could boast of but little more than he;

and there were millions to back him. He could dream of princesses and still be sane. Maurice did not envy the

How often had he indulged in vain but pleasant dreams! Even in the old days he was always succoring some

proud beauty in distress. Sometimes it was at sea, sometimes in railroad wrecks, sometimes in the heart of

flames; but he was ever there, like a guardian angel. It was never the same heroine, but that did not matter;

she was always beautiful and rich, high placed and lovable, and he never failed to brush aside all obstacles

that beset the path to the church door. He had dreamed of paladins, and here at last was his longsought

opportunitybut he could do nothing! He laughed. How many such romances lay beneath the banter and jest

of those bald bachelor diplomat friends of his? Had fate reserved him for one of these?

It was noon when he entered the city of Bleiberg. He went directly to his hotel, where a bath and a change of

clothes took the stiffness from his limbs. He was in no great hurry to go to the Grand Hotel; there was plenty

At two o'clock he set out for the lower town. On the way he picked up odd ends of news. The king was

rapidly sinking; he had suffered another stroke, and was now without voice. There was unusual activity in the

barracks. The students of the university were committing mild depredations, such as building bonfires,

holding flambeau processions, and breaking windows which contained the photographs of Prince Frederick

of Carnavia, who, strangely enough, was still wrapt in obscurity. When Maurice entered the Grand Hotel he

looked casually among the porters, but the roundfaced one was missing. He approached the desk. The

"No, my friend," said Maurice, affably, as a visitors' book was pushed forward, "I am not going to sign.

Instead, I wish to ask a favor. A week ago a party of the king's troopers met upstairs."

The proprietor showed signs of returning memory, together with a strange agitation.

"There was a slight disturbance," went on Maurice, still using the affable tone. "Herrah Hamilton, I

"I do," replied Maurice. "Don't you recognize me? Have I changed so since I came here to doctor a sprained

"You?Before God, Herr, I was helpless; I had nothing to do with it!" terrified at the peculiar smile of the

The key came forth. "You will say nothing, Herr; it would ruin my business. It was a police affair."

Maurice passed up the stairs. He found the room in disorder, but a disorder rather familiar to his eyes. He had

been the cause of most of it. Here was where he broke the baron's arm and thumped three others on the head.

It had been a good fight. Here was a hole in the wall where one of the empty revolvers had gone missing

There was a smudge on the carpet made by the falling candles. He saw Fitzgerald's pipe and picked it up. No;

the chamber maid had not yet been there. He went over to the bed, stared at it and shrugged. He raised the

mattress. There was the gun case. He drew it forth and took out the gun, not, however, without a twist of his

Four millions of crowns, a woman's love, the fall of one dynasty and the rise of another, all wadded in those

innocent looking gun barrels! He hesitated for a space, then unlocked the breech and held the tubes toward

the window. There was nothing in the barrels, nothing but the golden sunlight, which glinted along the

On making this discovery Maurice was inclined to declaim in that vigorous vocabulary which is taboo. He

had been tricked. He was no longer needed at the Red Chateau. Four millions in a gun barrel; hoax was

written all over the face of it, and yet he had been as unsuspicious as a Highland gillie. Madame had tricked

That Madame had tricked him created no surprise; what irritated him most was the conviction that Fitzgerald

was laughing in his sleeve, and that he had misjudged the Englishman's capacity for dissimulation. Very well.

He threw the gun on the bed; he took Fitzgerald's pipe from his pocket and cast it after the gun, and with a

gesture which placed all the contents of the room under the ban of his anathema, he strode out into the

Here the message to Madame from Beauvais flashed back. The Colonel of the royal cuirassiers had lied; he

had found the certificates. But still there was a cloud of mystery; to what use could Beauvais put them? He

"O, Herr, I told you that no one but the police had been in the room since your departure. They made a search

the next morning. Herr Hamilton was suspected of being a spy of the duchy's. I could not interfere with the

Maurice saw that there was nothing to be got from the landlord, who was as much in the dark as he. He

passed into the street and walked without any particular end in view. O, he would return to the Red Chateau,

if only to deliver himself of the picturesque and opinionated address on Madame. Once he saw his reflection

"Eh, bien, as Madame herself says, we develop with crises, and certainly there is one not far distant. I never

Situated between the university and the Grand Hotel on the left hand side of the Konigstrasse, east, stood an

historical relic of the days when Austria, together with the small independent states, strove to shake off the

Napoleonic yoke. In those days students formed secret societies; societies full of strange ritual, which pushed

devotion to fanaticism, which stopped at nothing, not even assassination. To exterminate the French, to

regain their ancestral privileges, to rescue their country from its prostrate humiliation, many sacrificed their

Napoleon found no means of reaching these patriots, for they could not be purchased. This convinced

Napoleon of their earnestness, for he could buy kings and princes. The students were invisible, implacable,

and many a brilliant officer of the imperial guard disappeared, never to return.

This historic relic of the Konigstrasse had been the headquarters of one of the branches of these numerous

societies; and the students still held to those ancient traditions. But men and epochs pass swiftly; only the

inanimate remain. This temple of patriotism is simply an inn today, owned by one Stuler, and is designated

by those who patronize it as "Old Stuler's." It is the gathering place of the students. It consists of a hall and a

The hall is made of common stone, bald and unadorned save by four dingy windows and a tarnished sign,

"Garten," which hangs obliquely over the entrance. At the curb stands a post with three lamps pendant; but

these are never lit because Old Stuler can keep neither wicks nor glass beyond the reach of canes.

Old Stuler was well versed in the peculiarities of students. In America they paint statues; in Austria they

create darkness. On warm, clear nights the students rioted in the garden; when it rained, chairs and tables

were carried into the hall, which contained a small stage and a square gallery. Never a night passed without

Here it was that the evils of monarchical systems were discussed, the army service, the lack of proper

amusement, the restrictions at the stage entrance to the opera; here it was that they concocted their exploits,

Stuler was a good general; he could keep the students in order, watch his assistants draw beer, the Rhine

wine, and the scum (dregs of the cask, muddy and strong), and eye the accumulating accounts on the slate.

This slate was wiped out once the month; that is to say, when remittances came from home. The night

following remittances was a glorious one both to Stuler and the students. There were new scars, new subjects

for debate, and Stuler got rid of some of his prime tokayer. The politics of the students was socialism, which

is to say they were always dissatisfied. Tourists seldom repeated their visits to Stuler's. There was too much

spilling of beer in laps, dumping of pipe ash into uncovered steins, and knocking off of stiff hats.

It was in front of Old Stuler's that Maurice came to a pause. He had heard of the place and the praise of its

Hofbrau and Munich beers. He entered. He found the interior dark and gloomy, though outside the sun shone

brilliantly. He ordered a stein of Hofbrau, and carried it into the main hall, which was just off the bar room.

It was much lighter here, though the hall had the tawdry appearance of a theater in the daytime; and the

motes swam thickly in the beams of sunshine which entered through the half closed shutters. It was only at

Scarcely a dozen men sat at the tables. In one corner Maurice saw what appeared to be a man asleep on his

arms, which were extended the width of the table. It was the cosiest corner in the hall, and Maurice decided to

establish himself at the other side of the table, despite the present incumbent. Noiselessly he crossed the floor

and sat down. The light was at his back, leaving his face in the shadow, but shone squarely on the sleeper's

"I do not envy his headache when he wakes up," thought Maurice. He had detected the vinous odor of the

sleeper's breath. "These headaches, while they last, are bad things. I know; I've had 'em. I wonder," lifting the

stein and draining it, "who the duffer was who said that getting drunk was fun? His name has slipped my

The sleeper stirred. "Rich," he murmured; "rich, rich! I'm rich! A hundred thousand crowns!"

"My friend, I'm not in the position to dispute with you on that subject," said Maurice, smiling. He rapped the

The other swung upright at this, his round, oily face sodden, his black eyes blinking. He threw off the stupor

Maurice seldom forgot a face. He recognized this one. "Oho!" he said, "so it's you, eh? I did not expect to

meet you. Happily I had you in mind. You are not employed at present as a porter at the Grand Hotel? So it is

"Wait a moment and I'll refresh your memory." Maurice theatrically thrust a cigar between his teeth and

struck a match. As the flame illumined his features the questioner started. "So you do not recognize me, eh?

You haven't the slightest remembrance of Herr Hamilton and his sprained ankle, eh? Sit down or I'll break

The other sat down, but he whistled sharply; and Maurice saw the dozen or so rise from the other tables and

come hurriedly in his direction. He pushed back his chair and rose, his teeth firmly embedded in the cigar,

Maurice saw that they were about to charge him, and his hand went to his hip pocket and rested on the butt of

the revolver which the Colonel had given him. "Gentlemen," he said, quietly, "I have no discussion with you.

I have a pistol in my pocket, and I'm rather handy with it. I desire to talk to this man, and talk to him I will.

The intended assault did not materialize. They scowled, but retired a few paces. They saw the movement

toward the hip pocket, and they noted the foreign twist of the tongue. Moreover, they did not like the angle of

the speaker's jaws. They shuffled, looked questioningly at one another, and, as if all of a single mind, went

slowly back to their chairs. Kopf grew pale. Indeed, his pallor was out of all proportion with the affair, which

"Don't you doubt it for a moment," interrupted Maurice, taking out the revolver and fondling it. "Any

interference will mean one or more cases for the hospital. Come, I'm not the police," to Kopf. "I am not going

to hurt you. I wish only to ask you a few questions, which is my right after what has passed between us. We'll

Together they left the hall. As they passed through the barroom Stuler looked questions, but refrained from

asking them. Maurice put away the revolver. As they went out into the street he drew Kopf's arm within his

"I had nothing to do with it, Herr, on my honor. I was only a porter, and I supposed my errand was in good

"How about the gentle push you gave me when the door opened? My friend, I'm no infant. Lies will do you

no good. I know everything, and wish only to verify. You are a police spy, in the employ of the duchess."

"If I was, do you suppose I'd fool my time on this side of the Thalians?" Johann shrugged.

"I'm not sure about that," said Maurice, puffing into Johann's face. "When cabinet ministers play spy, small

fry like you will not cavil at the occupation. And you are not in their pay?" Johann glared. "I want to know,"

Maurice went on, "what you know; what you know of Colonel Beauvais, his plans, his messengers to the

Johann's face cleared and a cunning light brightened his eyes. "If that is all you are after, I'll tell you. I'm a

spy no longer; they have no more use for me, despite their promises. I'll play them off for quits."

Johann bit his lip. "I'm wanted badly by the chancellor, curse you, if you must know. I thought he might be

"Don't worry about that," said Maurice, to whom this declaration seemed plausible. "We'll talk as we go

And Johann loosened his tongue and poured into Maurice's ear a tale which, being half a truth, had all the

semblance of straightforwardness. What he played for was time; to gain time and to lull his captor's

suspicions. Maurice was not familiar with the lower town; Johann was. A few yards ahead there was an alley

he knew, and once in it he could laugh at all pursuit. It might be added that if Maurice knew but little of the

Suddenly, in the midst of his narrative, Johann put his leg stiffly between his enemy's and gave a mighty jerk

with his arm, with the result that Maurice, wholly unprepared, went sprawling to the pavement. He was on his

feet in an instant, but Johann was free and flying up the alley. Maurice gave chase, but uselessly. Johann had

disappeared. The alley was a cul de sac, but was lined with doors; and these Maurice hammered to ease his

conscience. No one answered. Deeply disgusted with his lack of caution, Maurice regained the street, where

"I'll take it out of his hide the next time we meet. He wasn't worth the trouble, anyway."

A sybil might have whispered in his ear that a very large fish had escaped his net, but Maurice continued,

conscious of nothing save chagrin and a bruised knee. He resumed the piecing together of events, or rather he

attempted to; very few pieces could be brought together. If Beauvais had the certificates, what was his object

in lying to Madame? What benefit would accrue to him? After all, it was a labyrinth of paths which always

brought him up to the beginning. He drooped his shoulders dejectedly. There was nothing left for him to do

but return to the Red Chateau and inform them of the fruitlessness of his errand. He would start on the

morrow. Tonight he wanted once more to hear the band, to wander about the park, to row around the rear of

"A fine thing to be born in purplesometimes," he mused. "I never knew till now the inconveniences of the

He tramped on, building chateaux en Espagne. That they tumbled down did not matter; he could rebuild in

His attention was suddenly drawn away from this idle but pleasant pursuit. In a side street he saw twenty or

thirty students surging back and forth, laughing and shouting and jostling. In the center of this swaying mass

canes rose and fell. It was a fight, and as he loved a fight, Maurice pressed his hat firmly on his head and

veered into the side street. He looked around guiltily, and was thankful that no feminine eyes were near to

offer him their reproaches. He jostled among the outer circle, but could see nothing. He stooped. Something

white flashed this way and that, accompanied by the sound of low growls. A dog fight was his first

impression, and he was on the point of leaving, for, while he secretly enjoyed the sight of two physically

perfect men waging battle, he had not the heart to see two brutes pitted against each other, goaded on by

brutes of a lower caste. But even as he turned the crowd opened and closed, and the brief picture was enough

Her dog! And the students were beating it because they knew it to be defenseless. Her dog! toothless and old,

who could not hold when his jaws closed on an arm or leg, but who, with that indomitable courage of his

He was covered with blood, one of his legs was hurt, but still the spirit burned. It was cowardly. Maurice's

jaws assumed a particularly ferocious angle. Her dog! Rage choked him. With an oath he flung this student

aside and that, fought his way to the center. A burly student, armed with a stout cane, was the principal

Maurice doubled his fist and swung a blow which had one hundred and sixty pounds behind it, and it landed

squarely on the cheek of the student, who dropped face downward and lay still. This onslaught was so sudden

and unexpected that the students were confounded. But Maurice, whose plans crystallized in moments like

The students swore and yelled and stumbled over one another in their wild efforts to dodge the vindictive

cane. Maurice cleared a wide circle. The dog, half blinded by his blood and not fully comprehending this new

phase in the tide of events, lunged at Maurice, who nimbly eluded him. Finally the opportunity came. He

flung the cane into the yelling pack, with his left arm caught the dog about the middle, and leaped back into

the nearest doorway. The muscles of his left arm were sorely tried; the dog considered his part in the fray by

no means ended, and he tugged and yelped huskily. With his right hand Maurice sought his revolver, cocked

and leveled it. There came a respite. The students had not fully recovered from their surprise, and the yells

"You curs!" said Maurice, panting. "Shame on you! and an old dog that can't defend himself! You knew he

"God save your Excellency!" laughed a student in the rear, who had not tasted the cane; "you may be sure we

knew he had no teeth or we wouldn't have risked our precious calves. Don't let him scare you with the

popgun, comrades. At him, my brave ones; he will be more sport than the dog! Down with the Osians, dogs,

"Come on, then," said Maurice, whose fighting blood was at heat. "Come on, if you think it isn't over. There

are six bullets in this popgun, and I don't give a particular damn where they go. Come on!"

Whether or not this challenge would have been accepted remains unwritten. There now came on the air the

welcome sound of galloping hoofs, and presently two cuirassiers wheeled into the street. What Maurice had

left undone with the cane the cuirassiers completed with the flat of their sabers. They had had a brush with

the students the night before, and they went at them as if determined to take both interest and principal. The

students dispersed like leaves in the windall save one. He rose to his feet, his hands covering his jaw and a

dazed expression in his eyes. He saw Maurice with the revolver, the cuirassiers with their sabers, and the

remnant of his army flying to cover, and he decided to follow their example. The scene had changed

"Eh?" closely scanning Maurice's white face. "Well, well! is it you, Monsieur Carewe?"

"Lieutenant von Mitter?" cried Maurice, dropping the dog, who by now had grasped the meaning of it all.

"I'll lay odds that you put up a good fight," the Lieutenant said, pleasantly. "Curse these students! If I had my

way I'd coop them all up in their pesthole of a university and blow them into eternity."

"And how did the dog come in this part of the town?" asked Maurice, picking up his hat.

"He was with her Royal Highness. This is charity afternoon. She drives about giving alms to the poor, and

when she enters a house the dog stands at the entrance to await her return. She came out of another door and

forgot the dog. Max there remembered him only when we were several blocks away. A dozen or so of those

rascally students stood opposite us when we stopped here. It flashed on me in a minute why the dog did not

"Don't be modest, my friend," said the cuirassier, laughing, while his comrade dismounted, took the dog

under his arm, and made off. "This is one chance in a lifetime. Her Royal Highness will insist on thanking

you personally. O, I know Mademoiselle's caprices. And there's your hat, crushed all out of shape. Truly, you

"It's felt," said Maurice, slapping it against his leg. "No harm done to the hat. Well, good day to you,

"Nay, nay!" cried the Lieutenant. "Wait a moment. `There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the

flood ' How does that line go? I was educated in England and speak English as I do my mother tongue"

"You ought to be thankful that they are dry this time. Come; you'll have a good story to carry back to Vienna.

"Ye gods, listen to that! One would think by the tone of your voice that you wished they did!"

There was no resisting this good humor; and Maurice wanted only an excuse to wait. He sat down on the

steps, sucked the knuckles of his hand, and contemplated the grin on the cuirassier's face.

"I like you," said the Lieutenant; "I like your sangfroid. The palace is a devil of a dull place, and a new face is

a positive relief. I suppose you know that affairs here are bad; no honesty anywhere. Everybody has his hands

tied. The students know this, and do as they please. Think of two hundred gendarmes in the city, and an affair

"I tell you frankly that it is all I can do to withhold the edge of my saber when I meet those students. Last

night they held a noisy flambeau procession around the Hohenstaufenplatz, knowing full well that the king

had had another stroke and quiet was necessary. They would have waked the dead. I have an idea that I forgot

to use the flat of my sword; at least, the hospital report confirms my suspicions. Ah, here comes Max."

"Her Royal Highness desires to thank Monsieur Carewe, and commands that he be brought to her carriage."

Lieutenant von Mitter smiled, and Maurice stood up and brushed himself. The troopers sprang into the saddle

and started on a walk, with Maurice bringing up behind on foot. The thought of meeting the princess, together

with his recent exertions, created havoc with his nerves. When he arrived at the royal carriage, his usual

coolness forsook him. He fumbled with his hat, tonguetied. He stood in the Presence.

"Monsieur," said the Voice, "I thank you with all my heart for your gallant service. Poor, poor dog!"

"It was nothing, your Highness; any man would have done the same thing." The red in the wheelspokes

"Step into the carriage, Monsieur;" the Voice had the ring of command. "I will put you down there. It is the

"II to ride with your Highness?" he stammered. "O, no! Ithat isit would scarcely be"

"You are not afraid of me, Monsieur?" with a smile which, though it had a bit of the rogue in it, was rather

sad. She moved to the other side of the seat and put the dog on the rug at her feet. "Perhaps you are proud?

Well, Monsieur, I too am proud; so proud that I promise never to forgive you if you refuse to gratify my

"I was not thinking of myself, your Highness, or rather I was. I am not presentable. Look at me; my hat is out

The Presence replied to this remarkable defense with laughter, laughter in which Maurice detected an

"Monsieur Carewe, you are not acquainted with affairs in Bleiberg, or you would know that I am a nobody.

When I pass through the streets I attract little attention, I receive no homage. Enter: I command it."

"I do command it," imperiously. "And you would have pleased me more fully if you had accepted the

"Not there, Monsieur; beside me. Etiquette does not permit you to ride in front of me."

As he took the vacant place beside her he felt a fire in his cheeks. The Voice and Presence were disquieting.

As the groom touched the horses, Maurice was sensible of her sleeve against his, and he drew away. The

"Yes, your Highness." He tried to remember what he had said to her that day in the archbishop's garden. Two

In all his life he never felt so ill at ease. To what did she refer? That he would be proud to be her friend? That

"Yes, you have forgotten. Do you not remember that you offered to be my friend?" She read him through and

through, his embarrassment, the telltale color in his cheeks. She laughed, and there was nothing but youth in

Suddenly she, too, remembered something, and it caused the red of the rose to ripple from her throat to her

eyes. "Poor dog! Not that they hated him, but because I love him!" Tears started to her eyes. "See, Monsieur

Carewe; princesses are human, they weep and they love. Poor dog! My playmate and my friend. But for you

they might have killed him. Tell me how it happened." She knew, but she wanted to hear the story from his

His narrative was rather disjointed, and he slipped in von Mitter as many times as possible, thinking to do

that individual a good turn. Perhaps she noticed it, for at intervals she smiled. During the telling he took out

his handkerchief, wiped the dog's head with it, and wound it tightly about the injured leg. The dog knew; he

How handsome and brave, she thought, as she observed the face in profile. Not a day had passed during the

fortnight gone that she had not conjured up some feature of that intelligent countenance; sometimes it had

been the eyes, sometimes the chin and mouth, sometimes the shapely head. It was wrong; but this little sin

was so sweet. She had never expected to see him again. He had come and gone, and she had thought that the

beginning and the end. Ah, if only she were not a princess! If only some hand would sweep aside those

insurmountable barriers called birth and policy! To be free, to be the mistress of one's heart, one's dreams,

"O, I had the advantage; I was not expected. It was all over before they knew what had happened."

"And you had the courage to take a poor dog's part? Did you know whose dog it was?"

A secret gladness stole into her heart, and to cover the flame which again rose to her cheeks, she bent and

smoothed the dog's head. This gave Maurice an opportunity to look at her. What a beautiful being she was!

He was actually sitting beside her, breathing the same air, listening to her voice. She exhaled a delicate

perfume such as incorporates itself in persons of high degree and becomes a natural emanation, an incense

vague and indescribable. He felt that he was gazing on the culmination of youth, beauty, and elegance. . .

Yes, Fitzgerald was right. To beggar one's self for love; honor and life, and all to the winds if only love

"Monsieur, place your hat upon your head," smiling. "We have entered the Strasse, and I should not like to

He put on his hat. The impulse came to tell her all that he knew in regard to the kingdom's affairs; but his

voice refused its offices. Besides, it was too late; the carriage was rolling into the Platz, and in a moment

more it drew up before the terrace of the Continental Hotel. Maurice stepped out and bared his head.

"This evening, Monsieur, at nine, I shall expect to see you at the archbishop's reception to the corps

diplomatique." A hand was extended toward him. He did not know what to do about it. "I am offering you my

As he touched it to his lips, he was sure that a thousand pairs of eyes were centered on him. The truth is, there

were less than one hundred. It was the first time in many months that the Crown Princess had stopped before

the Continental Hotel. To the guests it was an event; and some even went as far as to whisper that the

"God save your Royal Highness," said Maurice, at loss for other words. He released her hand and stepped

On the night prior to the arrival of Maurice in Bleiberg, there happened various things of moment.

At midnight the chancellor left the palace, after having witnessed from a window the meeting of the

cuirassiers and the students, and sought his bed; but his sleep was burdened with troubled dreams. The

clouds, lowering over his administration, thickened and darkened. How many times had he contemplated

Defeat in the end was to be expected, but still there was ever that star of hope, a possible turn in affairs which

would carry him on to victory. Victory is all the sweeter when it seems impossible. Prince Frederick had

disappeared, no one knew where, the peasant girl theory could no longer be harbored, and the wedding was

but three days hence. The Englishman had not stepped above the horizon, and the telegrams to the four ends

of the world returned unanswered. Thus, the chancellor stood alone; the two main props were gone from

under. As he tossed on his pillows he pondered over the apparent reticence and indifference of the

All was still in the vicinity of the palaces. Sentinels paced noiselessly within the enclosures. In the royal

bedchamber the king was resting quietly, and near by, on a lounge, the state physician dozed. The Captain of

Only the archbishop remained awake. He sat in his chamber and wrote. Now and then he would moisten his

lips with watered wine. Sometimes he held the pen in midair, and peered into the shapeless shadows cast by

the tapers, his broad forehead shining and deep furrows between his eyes. On, on he wrote. Perhaps the

archbishop was composing additional pages to his memoirs, for occasionally his thin lips relaxed into an

There was little quiet in the lower town, especially in the locality of the university. Old Stuler's was filled

with smoke, students and tumult. Ill feeling ran high. There were many damaged heads, for the cuirassiers

A student walked backward and forward on the stage, waving wildly with his hands to command attention. It

"Fellowstudents, brothers of freedom and comrades," he began. "All this must come to an end, and that at

once. Our personal liberty is endangered. Our rights are being trodden under foot. Our ancient privileges are

being laughed at. It must end." This declaration was greeted by shouts, sundry clattering of pewter lids and

noisy rappings of earthenware on the tables. "Have we no rights as students? Must we give way to a handful

of beggarly mercenaries? Must we submit to the outlawing of our customs and observances? What! We must

not parade because the king does not like to be disturbed? And who are the cuirassiers?" Nobody answered.

Nobody was expected to answer. "They are Frenchmen of hated memorySwiss, Prussians, with Austrian

officers. Are we or are we not an independent state? If independent, shall we stand by and see our personal

"Let us petition to oust these vampires, who not only rob us of our innocent amusements, but who are fed by

our taxes. What right had Austria to dictate our politics? What right had she to disavow the blood and give us

these Osians? O, my brothers, where are the days of Albrecht III of glorious memory? He acknowledged our

rights. He was our lawful sovereign. He understood and loved us." This burst of sentiment was slightly

exaggerative, if the history of that monarch is to be relied on; but the audience was mightily pleased with this

recollection. It served to add to their distemper and wrath against the Osian puppet. "And where are our own

soldiers, the soldiers of the kingdom? Moldering away in the barracks, unnoticed and forgotten. For the first

time in the history of the country foreigners patrol the palaces. Our soldiers are nobodies. They hold no office

at court save that of Marshal, and his voice is naught. Yet the brunt of the soldier's life falls on them. They

watch at the frontiers, tireless and vigilant, while the mercenaries riot and play. Brothers, the time has come

for us to act. The army is with us, and so are the citizens. Let ours be the glory of touching the match. We are

brave and competent. We are drilled. We lack not courage. Let us secretly arm and watch for the opportunity

to strike a blow for our rights. Confusion to the Osians, and may the duchess soon come into her own!"

He jumped from the stage, and another took his place; the haranguing went on. The orators were serious and

earnest; they believed themselves to be patriots, pure and simple, when in truth they were experiencing the

same spirit of revolt as the boy whose mother had whipped him for making an unnecessary noise, or stealing

While the excitement was at its height, a man, somewhat older than the majority of the students, entered the

barroom from the street, and lounged heavily against the railing. His clothes were soiled and wrinkled, blue

circles shadowed his eyes, which were of dull jet, the corners of his mouth drooped dejectedly, and his oily

"Wine, Stuler, wine!" he called, laying down a coin, which gleamed dimly yellow in the opalescent light.

Stuler pounced on the coin and rubbed it between his palms. "Gold, Johann, gold?"

"Aye, gold; and the last of a pocketful, curse it! What's this noise about?" with a gesture, toward the hall.

"The boys were in the Platz and had a brush with those damned cuirassiers. They'll play a harder game yet."

Stuler always took sides with the students, on business principles; they constituted his purse. "Tokayer?"

"No; champagne. Aye, these damned cuirassiers shall play a hard game ere the week is done, or my name is

not Johann Kopf. They kicked me out of the palace grounds yesterday; me, me, me!" hammering the oak with

"Von Mitter, the Englishbred dog! I'll kill him one of these days. Is it play tonight, or are they serious?"

"Go in," said Stuler, "and look at some of those heads; a look will answer the purpose."

Johann followed this advice. The picture he saw was one which agreed with the idea that had come into his

mind. He returned to the barroom. and drank his wine thirstily, refilled the glass and emptied it. Stuler

shook his head. Johann was in a bad way when he gulped wine instead of sipping it. Yet it was always so

"Where have you been keeping yourself the past week?" he asked. If the students were his purse, Johann was

"You ask that?" surlily. "You knew I had money; you knew that I was off somewhere spending itGod

knows where, I don't. Another bottle of wine. There's enough left from the gold to pay for it."

Stuler complied. Johann's thirst seemed in no way assuaged; but soon the sullen expression, the aftermath of

"A great game, Stuler; they're playing a great game, and you and I will be in at the reaping. The town is quiet,

you say? The troops have ceased murmuring, eh? A lull that comes before the storm. And when it

breaksand break it will!gay times for you and me. There will be sacking. I have the list of those who

Stuler smiled indulgently; Johann was beginning to feel the wine. Perhaps he was to learn something. "Yes,

"And the wedding? What is it I hear about Prince Frederick and the peasant girl?"

"The king thateh, Johann, are you getting drunk so soon?" Stuler exclaimed. "I know of no king"

Johann reached over and caught the innkeeper's wrist. The grasp was no gentle one. "Listen, that was a slip of

"Good, if you understand. It was naught but a slip of the tongue," nonchalantly. "In a little week, my friend,

"And the duchess?" with hesitance. The budget of news tonight was not of the usual kind.

The perturbation of the old man was so manifestly beyond control that he could not trust his legs. He dropped

on the stool, giving his grizzled head a negative shake. "I would that you had made no slip of the tongue,

Johann," he murmured. "Gott, what is going on? The princess was not to wed, to be sure, but the duchess

"Silence!" enjoined Johann. "Stuler, I am about to venture on a daring enterprise, which, if successful, will

mean plenty of gold. Come with me into your private office, where we shall not be interrupted nor

overheard." He vaulted the bar. Stuler looked undecided. "Come!" commanded Johann. With another shake

of his head Stuler took down the tallow dip, unlocked the door, and bade Johann pass in. He caught up

another bottle and glass and followed. Without a word he filled the glass and set it down before Johann, who

raised it and drank, his beady eyes flashing over the rim of the glass and compelling the innkeeper to

"I need you." Johann finished his glass with moderate slowness. "Your storehouse on the lake is empty?"

"I shall want it, two nights from this, in case Madame the duchess does not conquer the Englishman. I shall

want two fellows who will ask no questions, but who will follow my instructions to the letter. It is an

"A nasty business," was Stuler's comment. "You have women to thank for your present occupation, Johann."

"A crown. The duchess may remain a duchess. Who is master in Bleiberg today? At whose word the army

moves or stands? At whose word the Osians fall or reign? On whom does the duchess rely? Who is king in

deed, if not in fact? Who will find means to liquidate the kingdom's indebtedness, whoever may be the

creditor? Pah! the princess may marry, but the groom will not be Prince Frederick. The man she will marry

will be the husband of a queen, and he will be a king behind a woman's skirts. It is what the French call a

coup d'etat. She will be glad to marry; there is no alternative. She will submit, if only that her father may die

"You are old, Stuler; you remember many things of the past. Do you recollect a prince of a noble Austrian

house by the name of Walmoden, once an aide to the emperor, who was cashiered from the army and exiled

Stuler's hand shook as he brushed his forehead. "Yes, I recollect. He fought against the Prussians in the

Franco Prussian war, then disappeared, to be heard of again as living in a South American republic. But

"For those who have not learned to swim. You will aid me? A thousand crownstwo hundred pieces of gold

"A jest. If Madame the duchess conquers the Englishman, the king that is to be will pay her. Then, if she

"And Walmoden?" Stuler struck his forehead with his fist as if to pound it into a state of lucidity. "Where is

"Exactly. This play, for some reason unexplained, is the price of his reestablishment into the graces of the

noble Hapsburgs. Between us, I think the prince is playing a game for himself. But who shall blame him?"

"That's the sentiment," laughed Johann. "It is not high treason, it is not lese majeste; it is not a crime; it is a

thousand crowns. Votre sante, as the damned French say!" swallowing what was left of the wine. "And then,

"Where does her Royal Highness go each Thursday evening, accompanied by her eternal cuirassiers, von

"Where but to see her old nurse Elizabeth? But two men will not be enough. Von Mitter and

"Will as usual remain at the carriage. But what's to prevent the men from gaining entrance by the

rear?carrying off her Highness that way, passing through the alley and making off, to be a mile away

"We can not all be kings and queens." Johann got up and slapped Stuler familiarly on the shoulder. "Forget

not the gold, the yellow gold; little heaps of it to finger, to count, and to spend."

Stuler's eyes gleamed phosphorescently. There was the strain of the ancient marauder in his veins; gold easily

gotten. He opened the door, and Johann passed out, swaying. The wine was taking hold of him. He turned

into the hall, while Stuler busied himself with the spigots. Some one discovered the spy, and called him by

As a socialist Johann was well known about the lower town. Besides, five years gone, he himself had been a

student and a brother of freedom. He had fought a dozen successful duels, and finally had been expelled from

the university for beating a professor who had objected to his conduct in the presence of ladies. Other ill

reports added to his popularity. To be popular in this whimsical world of ours, one has either to be very good

or very bad. Johann was not unwilling to speak. Stuler had given him the cue; the cuirassiers. His advice was

secretly to arm and hold in readiness. As this was the substance of the other speeches, Johann received his

"And let us not forget the bulldog; let us kill him, too," cried one of the auditors; "the prodigal bulldog, who

This was unanimously adopted. The bulldog was not understood; and he smacked of the English. Then, too,

the bulldog roamed too freely in the royal enclosures; and, until late years, trespassers fared badly. The

students considered that their privileges extended everywhere; the dog, not being conversant with these

After his speech Johann retired to the barroom. What he desired most of all was a replenished purse.

Popular he was; but the students knew his failings, among which stood prominently that of a forgetful

borrower. They would buy him drinks, clothes and food, if need be, but they would not lend him a stiver.

And he could not borrow from Stuler, whose law was only to trust. Johann gambled, and wine always

brought back the mad fever for play. The night before he had lost rather heavily, and he wanted to recover his

losses. Rougeetnoir had pinched him; he would be revenged on the roulette. All day long combinations

and numbers danced before his eyes. He had devised several plans by which to raise money, but these had

"Stuler, how much will you advance me," he asked, "on a shotgun worth one hundred crowns?"

Johann made a negative gesture. "Fifty or none. You can sell it for seventyfive in the morning. So could I,

Stuler scratched his nose. "Bring the gun to me. If it is worth what you say, I'll see what I can do."

"In an hour;" and Johann went out. A cold thin rain was falling, and a dash of it in the face had a cooling

effect. Somehow, the exhilaration of the wine was gone, and his mood took a sullen turn. Money! he was ever

in need of money. He cursed his ill luck. He cursed the cause of itdrink. But for drink he would not have

been plain Johann Kopf, brawler, outcast, spy, disowned by his family and all save those who could use him.

At last he drew his collar about his throat and struck off, a black shadow in a bank of gray. When he reached

that part of the street opposite the Grand Hotel, he stopped and sought shelter under an awning. The night

patrol came clattering down the street. It passed quickly, and soon all was still again. Johann stepped out and

peered up and down. The street was deserted. All the hotel windows were in gloom, save a feeble light which

Would it be robbery? He had not yet stooped to that. But he could hear the ivory ball clatter as it fell into the

lucky numbers. He had a premonition that he would win if he stuck to a single combination. He would

redeem the gun, replace it, and no one would be any the wiser. If his numbers failed him. . . . . No matter. He

determined to cross the Rubicon. He traversed the street and disappeared into the cavernous alley, shortly to

loom up in the deserted courtyard of the hotel. He counted the windows on the first floor and stopped at the

fourth. That was the window he must enter. Noiselessly he crept along the walls, stopping now and then to

listen. There was no sound except the monotonous dripping of the rain, which was growing thinner and

Presently he came across the ladder he was seeking. He raised it to the required height, and once more placed

his hand to his ear. Silence. He mounted the rounds to the window, which he found unfastened. In another

moment he was in the room. Not an object could he see, so deep was the darkness. If he moved without light

he was likely to stumble, and heydey to his fifty crowns, not to say his liberty for many days to come. He

carefully drew the blinds and struck a match. The first object which met his gaze was a fallen candle. This he

lit and when the glare of the flame softened, all the corners of the room stood out. Nowhere was there any

sign of a gun. He gave vent to a halfmuttered curse. Some one had pilfered the gun, or the proprietor was

keeping it until the Englishman returned from the duchy. But he remembered that there were two guns, one of

So he began a thorough search. It meant fifty crowns, green baize and the whims of fortune. Cautiously he

moved between the fallen chairs. He looked behind the bed, under the dresser, but without success. His hand

closed savagely around the candle, and he swore inaudibly. He threw back the bed coverings, not that he

expected to find anything, but because he could vent his rage on these silent, noiseless things. When he lifted

the mattress it was then he took a deep breath and smiled. What he saw was a gun case. He drew it from

under. It was heavy; his fifty crowns were inside. Next he picked up a candlestick and stuffed the candle into

it, and laid a quilt against the threshold of the door so that no light would pierce the corridor.

"This is the gun the Englishman did not use in the hunting expeditions," he thought. "If it is out of repair, as

he said it was, my fifty crowns are not so many pfennige. The devil! it must be a valuable piece of

gunsmithing, to hide it under the bedclothes. Let me see if my crowns are for the picking."

He investigated forthwith. The hammers and the triggers worked smoothly. He unlocked the breech and held

the nozzles toward the candle light and again cursed. The barrels were clogged up. Notwithstanding, he

plucked forth the cleaningrod and forced it into one of the tubes. There was a slight resistance, and

something fluttered to the floor and rolled about. The second tube was treated likewise, with the same result.

Johann laughed silently. The fifty crowns were tangible; he could hear them jingling in his pocket, and a

pretty music they made. He returned the leather case to its original place and devoted his attention to the

For a quarter of an hour Johann remained seated on the floor, in the wavering candle light, forgetful of all

save the delicate tracings of steel engraving, the red and green inks, the great golden seal, the signatures, the

immensity of the ciphers which trailed halfway across each crackling parchment. He counted sixteen of them

in all. Four millions of crowns. . . . He was rich, rich beyond all his wildest dreams.

He rose, and restored the gun to its case. Fifty crowns? No, no! A hundred thousand, not a crown less; a

hundred thousand! all thoughts of the green baize and the rattle of the roulette ball passed away. There was

no need to seek fortune; she had come to him of her own free will. Wine, Gertrude of the opera, Paris and a

life of ease; all these were his. A hundred thousand crowns, a hundred thousand florins, two hundred

thousand francs, two hundred thousand marks! He computed in all monetary denominations; in all countries

Something rose and swelled in his throat, and he choked hysterically. A voice whispered "No, not a hundred

thousand; four millions!" But reason, though it tottered, regained its balance, and he saw the utter futility of

attempting to dispose of the orders on the government independently. His hands trembled; he could scarcely

hold this vast treasure. Twice, in his haste to pocket the certificates, they slipped from his grasp and scattered.

He extinguished the candle and laid it on the floor, put the quilt on the bed, then climbed through the

window, which he closed without mishap. He descended the ladder. As he reached the bottom round his heart

gave a great leap. From the alley came the sound of approaching steps. Nearer and nearer they came; a

shadow entered the courtyard and made straight for the door, which was but a few feet from the reclining

ladder. The kitchen door opened and the burst of light revealed a belated serving maid. A moment passed,

and all became dark again. But Johann felt a strange weakness in his knees, and a peculiar thrill at the roots of

his hair. He dared not move for three or four minutes. But he waited in vain for other steps. He cursed the

serving maid for the fright, disposed of the ladder, and sought the street. He directed his steps toward Stuler's.

"The pig of an Englishman was deeper than I thought. In the gun barrels, the gun barrels! If I had not wanted

It had ceased to rain, and a frost was congealing the moisture under foot. On the way back to Stuler's Johann

slipped and fell several times; but he was impervious to pain, bruises were nothing. He was rich! He laughed;

and from time to time thrust his hand into his vest to convince himself that he was not dreaming. To whom

should he sell? To the Osians? To the duchess? To the king that was to be? Who would pay quickest the

hundred thousand crowns? He knew. Aye, two hundred thousand would not be too much. The Englishman

would send for the certificates, but his agent would not find them. The abduction? He would carry it through

as he had promised. It was five thousand crowns in addition to his hundred thousand. He was rich! He shook

his hand toward the inky sky, toward the palace, toward all that signified the past . . . . . A hundred thousand

Maurice, as he labored before his mirror, wondered why in the world it took him so long to dress. An hour

had passed since he began his evening toilet; yet here he was, still tinkering, so to speak, over the last of a

dozen cravats. The eleven others lay strewn about, hopelessly crumpled; mute witnesses of angry fingers and

impassioned mutterings. Usually he could slip into his evening clothes in less than thirty minutes. Something

First, the hems of his trousers were insurgent; they persisted in hitching on the tops of his button shoes. Laces

were substituted. Then came a desultory period, during which gold buttons were exchanged for pearl and

pearl for gold, and two button shirts for threebutton. For Maurice was something of a dandy. He could not

imagine what was the matter with his neck, all the collars seemed so small. For once his mishaps did not

appeal to his humor. The ascent from his shoes to his collar was as tortuous as that of the alpine Jungfrau.

Ah, Madam, you may smile as much as you please, but it is a terrible thing for a man to dress and at the same

time think kindly of his fellowbeings. You set aside three hours for your toilet, and devote two hours to the

little curl which droops over the tip of your dainty ear; but with a man who has no curl, who knows nothing

of the practice of smiles and side glances, the studied carelessness of a pose, it is a dismal, serious business

With a final glance into the mirror, and convinced that if he touched himself it would be only to disarrange

the perfection which he had striven so hard to attain, Maurice went down stairs. He had still an hour to while

away before presenting himself at the archbishop's palace. So he roamed about the verandas, twirled his cane,

and smoked like a captain who expects to see his men in active engagement the very next moment. This,

together with the bad hour in his room, was an indication that his nerves were finely strung.

He was nervous, not because he was to see strange faces, not because his interest in the kingdom's affairs was

both comic and tragic, nor because he was to present himself at the archbishop's in a peculiar capacity, that of

a prisoner on parole. No, it was due to none of these. His pulse did not stir at the prospect of meeting the true

king. Diplomatic functions were everyday events with him. He had passed several years of his life in the

vicinity of emperors, kings, viceroys, and presidents, and their greatness had long ago ceased to interest or

even to amuse him. He was conscious only of an agitation which had already passed through the process of

analysis. He loved, he loved the impossible and the unattainable, and it was the exhilaration of this thought

that agitated him. He never would be the same again he would be better. Neither did he regret this love.

Even now he could see himself back in his rooms in Vienna, smoking before the fire, and building castles that

tumbled down. It was worth while, if only to have something to dream about. He did not regret the love, he

regretted its futility. How could he serve her? What could he do against all these unseen forces which were

crumbling her father's throne? So she remembered what he had said to her in the archbishop's garden? He

"Let us be off," he said. He started for the Platz. "How uncertain life is. It seems that I did not come to

Bleiberg carelessly in the way of amusement, but to work out a part of my destiny." He arrested his steps at

the fountain and listened to the low, musical plash of the water, each drop of which fell with the light of a

dazzling jewel. The cold stars shone from above. They were not farther away than she. A princess, a lonely

and forlorn princess, hemmed in by the fabric of royal laws; a princess yet possessing less liberty than the

meanest of her peasants. Nothing belonged to her, not even her heart, which was merchandise, a commodity

of exchange, turned over to the highest bidder. "Royalty," he mused, "is a political slavedealer; the slaves

Once inside the palace, he became a man of the world, polished, nonchalant, handsome, and mildly curious.

Immediately after the usher announced his name, he crossed the chamber and presented his respects to the

prelate, who, he reasoned not unwisely, expected him. The friendly greeting of the archbishop confirmed this

"I am delighted to see you, Monsieur," he said, showing his remarkably well preserved teeth in the smile that

followed his words. "A service to her Royal Highness is a service to me. Amuse yourself; you will find some

"I trust her Royal Highness is none the worse for the fright," Maurice replied. He also remarked (mentally)

that he did not see her Highness anywhere. Several introductions followed, and he found himself chatting

"Carewe?" the Englishman repeated thoughtfully. "Are you not Maurice Carewe, of the American Legation

"A fellowcountryman of mine has mysteriously disappeared. He left Vienna for Bleiberg, saying that if

nothing was heard of him within a week's time, to make inquiries about him. This request was left with the

British ambassador, who has just written me, adding that a personal friend of the gentleman in question was

in Bleiberg, and that this friend was Maurice Carewe, attache to the American Legation. Are you acquainted

"I am indeed. I saw him in Vienna," said Maurice; "but he said nothing to me about coming here," which was

"Only his request to be looked up within a certain time. The truth is, he was to have come here on a peculiar

errand," with lowered voice. "Did you ever hear of what is called 'Fitzgerald's folly?'"

"Yes; few haven't heard of it." Maurice could never understand why he resisted the impulse to tell the whole

affair. A dozen words to the man at his side, and the catastrophes, even embryonic, would be averted. "You

must tell me who most of these people are," he said, in order to get around a disagreeable subject. "I am a

"With pleasure. That tall, angular old man, in the long, gray frock, with decorations, is Marshal Kampf. You

must meet him; he is the wittiest man in Bleiberg. The gentleman with the red beard is Mollendorf of the

police. And beside himyes, the little man with glasses and a loose cravatis Count von Wallenstein, the

minister of finance. That is the chancellor talking to the archbishop. Ah, Mr. Carewe, these receptions are

fine comedies. The Marshal, the count and Mollendorf represent what is called the Auersperg faction under

the rose. It is a continual battle of eyes and tongues. One smiles at his enemy, knows him to be an enemy, yet

"Confidentially, this play has never had the like. To convict his enemies of treason has been for ten years the

labor of the chancellor; yet, though he knows them to be in correspondence with the duchess, he can find

nothing on the strength of which to accuse openly. It is a conspiracy which has no papers. One can not take

out a man's brains and say, `Here is proof!' They talk, they walk on thin ice; but so fine is their craft that no

"I have watched the play for ten years. I should not speak to you about it, only it is one of those things known

to all here. Those gentlemen talking to the chancellor's wife are the ministers from Austria, Prussia, France,

and Servia. You will not find it as lively here as it is in Vienna. We meet merely to watch each other," with a

"Marshal," said the minister, "this is Monsieur Carewe, who rescued her Highness's dog from the students."

"Ah !" replied the Marshal, grimly. "Do not expect me to thank you, Monsieur; only day before yesterday the

dog snapped at my legs. I am living out of pure spite, to see that dog die before I do. Peace to his ashesthe

"What a reputation!" cried the old soldier. "I dare say that you have been telling Monsieur Carewe that I am a

wit. Monsieur, never attempt to be witty; they will put you down for a wit, and laugh at anything you say,

even when you put yourself out to speak the truth. If I possess any wit it is like young grapes sour. You are

"Happy is the country," said the Marshal, "which is so far away that Europe can find no excuse to meddle

"And even then Europe would not dare," Maurice replied, with impertinence aforethought.

"Are all American diplomats so frank?" inquired the Marshal, with an air of feigned wonder.

"Indeed, no," answered Maurice. "Just at present I am not in a diplomatic capacity; I need not look askance at

"You are wrong. It's truth's infrequency which makes her so charming and refreshing. However, I thank you

for your services to her Highness; your services to her dog I shall try to forget." And with this the Marshal

moved away, shaking his head as if he had inadvertently stumbled on an intricate problem.

Not long after, Maurice was left to his own devices. He viewed the scene, silent and curious. Conversation

was carried on in low tones, and laughter was infrequent and subdued. The women dressed without

ostentation. There were no fair arms and necks. Indeed, these belong wholly to youth, and youth was not a

factor at the archbishop's receptions. Most of the men were old and bald, and only the wives of the French

and British ministers were pretty or young. How different from Vienna, where youth and beauty abound!

There were no music, no long tables of refreshments, no sparkling wines, no smokingroom, good stories and

better fellowship. There was an absence of the flash of jewels and color which make court life attractive.

There seemed to be hanging in the air some invisible power, the forecast of a tragedy, the beginning of an

unknown end. And yet the prelate smiled on enemies and friends alike. As Maurice observed that smile he

grew perplexed. It was a smile such as he had seen on the faces of men who, about to die, felt the grim

satisfaction of having an enemy for company. The king lay on his death bed, in all probabilities the throne

The princess did not know that her father was dying; this was a secret which had not yet been divulged to her.

And this was the only society she knew. Small wonder that she was sad and lonely. To be young, and to find

one's self surrounded by the relics of youth; what an existence! She had never known the beauty of a

glittering ballroom, felt the music of a waltz mingle with the quick throbs of the heart, the pleasure of

bestowing pleasure. She had never read the mute yet intelligent admiration in a young man's eyes. And what

young woman does not yearn for the honest adoration of an honest man? Poor, lonely princess indeed. For,

loving the world as he himself did, Maurice understood what was slipping past her. Every moment the roots

of love were sinking deeper into his heart and twining firmly about, as a vine to a trellis.

Is there a mental telegraphy, an indefinable substance which is affected by the close proximity of a presence,

which, while we do not see, we feel? Perhaps; at any rate, Maurice suddenly became aware of that peculiar

yet now familiar agitation of his nerves. Instinctively he turned his head. In the doorway which separated the

chamber from the conservatory stood her Royal Highness. She was dressed entirely in black, which

accentuated the whitenessthe Carrara marble whitenessof her exquisite skin. In the dark, shining coils

swept back from her brow lay the subtle snare of a red rose. There was no other color except on the full lips.

She saw Maurice, but she was so far away that the faint reflection of the rose on her cheeks was gone before

"I was afraid," she said, lowering her eyes as she uttered the fib, "that you would not come after all."

"It would have been impossible for me to stay away," he replied, his eyes ardent. The princess looked away.

"Thanks to you, Monsieur; he is getting along finely. Poor dog; he will always limp. What is it that makes

"O!" He laughed and held out two gloved hands for her inspection. "That was only a scratch. In fact, I do not

He could not translate this; so he said: "There was nothing injured but my hat. I seem unfortunate in that

"Souvenirs, Monsieur," she replied carelessly, "and old age are synonymous. You and I ought not to have any

souvenirs. Have you seen the picture gallery? No? Then I shall have the pleasure of showing it to you.

Monseigneur is very proud of his gallery. He has a Leonardo, a Botticelli, a Murillo, and a Rembrandt. And

Half an hour was passed in the gallery. It was very pleasant to listen to her voice as she described this and

that painting, and the archbishop's adventures in securing them. It did not seem possible to him that she was a

princess, perhaps destined to become a queen, so free was she from the attributes of royalty, so natural and

ingenuous. He caught each movement of her delicate head, each gesture of her hand, the countless inflections

of her voice, the lights which burned or died away in the dark wine of her eyes.

Poor devil! he mused, himself in mind; poor fool! He forgot the world, he forgot that he was a prisoner on

parole, he forgot the strife between the kingdom and the duchy, he forgot everything but the wild impossible

In truth, the world was "a sorry scheme of things." It was grotesque with inequalities. He had no right to love

her; it was wrong to give in to the impulses of the heart, the natural, human impulses. A man can beat down

the stone walls of a fort, scale the impregnable heights of a citadel, master the earth and the seas, but he can

not surmount the invisible barriers which he himself erected in the past agesthe quality of birth. Ah! if only

she had been a peasant, unlettered and unknown, and free to be won! The tasks of Hercules were then but

Next she led him through the aisles of potted plants in the conservatory. She was very learned. She explained

the origin of each flower, its native soil, the time and manner of its transportation. Perhaps she was surprised

at his lack of botanical knowledge, he asked so many questions. But it was not the flowers, it was her voice,

They were on the point of reentering the reception chamber, when the jingle of a spur on the mosaic floor

caused them to turn. Maurice could not control the start; he had forgotten all about Beauvais. The soldier

wore the regulation full dress of the cuirassiers, white trousers, tucked into patent leather half boots, a gray

jacket with gold lace and decorations, red saber straps and a gray pelisse hanging from the left shoulder. A

splendid soldier, Maurice grudgingly admitted. What would the Colonel say? The situation was humorous

"I was looking for your Highness," said Beauvais, as he came up, "to pay my respects. I am leaving." His

"Colonel Beauvais," said the princess, coldly, "Monsieur Carewe, of the American Legation in Vienna."

She was not looking at the Colonel, but Maurice was, and the Colonel's total lack of surprise astonished him.

The gaze of the two men plunged into each other's eyes like flashes of lightning, but that was all.

"I am charmed," said the Colonel, a halfironical smile under his mustache. "Your name is not unfamiliar to

"No. It is connected with an exploit. Was it not you who faced the students this afternoon and rescued her

"Ah!" said Maurice, in a tone which implied that exploits were every day events with him; "it was but a

The princess elevated her brows; she felt an undercurrent of something which she did not understand. Indeed,

she did not like the manner in which the two men eyed each other. Her glance passed from the stalwart

Conversation drifted aimlessly. Maurice had the malice to cast the brunt of it on the Colonel's shoulders. The

princess, like a rose coming in contact with a chill air, drew within herself. She was cold, brief, and serenely

indifferent. It was evident to Maurice that she had resumed her royal mantle, and that she had shown him

Presently she raised her hand to her head, as sometimes one will do unconsciously, and the rose slipped from

her hair and dropped to the floor. Both men stooped. Maurice was quickest. With a bow he offered to return

They joined her. Maurice knew why the Colonel laughed, and the Colonel knew why Maurice laughed; but

All things come to an end, even diplomatic receptions. Soon the guests began to leave.

Said the princess to Maurice: "Your invitation is a standing one, Monsieur. To our friends there are no

formalities. Good night; ah, yes, the English fashion," extending her hand, which Maurice barely touched.

"Good night, Monsieur," to Beauvais, with one of those nods which wither as effectually as frost.

"Decidedly the Colonel is not in high favor tonight," thought Maurice; "a fact which is eminently satisfactory

"Monsieur, have you any other engagement this evening?" asked Beauvais, swinging his pelisse over both

shoulders. "If not, my rooms are quite handy. I have capital cigars and cognacs. Will you do me the honor? I

should like to have you regale me with some Vienna gossip; it is so long since I was there."

"Thanks," said Maurice. "I shall be happy to smoke your cigars and drink your cognacs." He was in the mood

for any adventure, comic or serious. He had an idea what the Colonel wanted to say to him, and he was not

unwilling to listen. Besides, he had no fear; he now wore an amulet close to his heart.

"Come, then," said Beauvais, gaily; and the two made off. "It is a wonderful game of chess, this world of

"So we do." Maurice glanced from the corner of his eye and calculated his chances in a physical contest with

the Colonel. The soldier was taller and broader, but it was possible for him to make good this deficiency with

quickness. But, above all, where and under what circumstances had he met this man before?

He led Maurice into one of the handsome dwellings which faced the palace confines from the east. They

passed up the stairs into a large room, Oriental in its appointments, and evidently the living room. The walls

were hung with the paraphernalia of a soldier, together with portraits of opera singers, horses and celebrities

of all classes. On the mantel Maurice saw, among other things, the glint of a revolver barrel. He thought

nothing of it then. It occurred to him as singular, however, that the room was free from central obstruction.

Had the Colonel expected to meet him at the archbishop's and anticipated his acceptance of a possible

Two chairs stood on either side of the grate. Between them was an octagon on which were cigars, glasses and

two cognac bottles. The Colonel's valet came in and lit the tapers in the chandelier and woke up the fire. . . .

Maurice was convinced that the Colonel had arranged the room thus for his especial benefit, and he regretted

"Francois," said Beauvais, throwing his shako and pelisse on the lounge and motioning to Maurice to do

The valet bowed and noiselessly retired. The two men sat down without speaking. Beauvais passed the cigars.

Maurice selected one, lit it, and blew rings at the Chinese mandarin which leered down at him from the

"I can not say that it strikes me as droll, though I am not deficient in the sense of humor."

"'Twould be a pity if you were; you would miss so much. Through humor philosophy reaches its culmination;

humor is the foundation upon which the palace of reason erects itself. The two are inseparable."

"That question is respectfully referred to Madame the duchess. I was thrown into it, head foremost, bound

hand and foot. It was a clever stroke, though eventually it will embarrass her."

Maurice contemplated him serenely. "Impossible," with a fillip at the end of his cigar.

His astonishment was genuine; Maurice saw that it was, and he reflected. Madame nor Fitzgerald had been

"I repeat," said Maurice, "the situation is exceedingly droll. I am not afraid of you, not a bit. I am not a man

to be intimidated. You might have inferred as much by my willingness to accompany you here. I am alone

"It is true that you are alone with me," in a voice, which, though it did not alarm Maurice, caused him to rest

"The knowledge was not of my own seeking. You will agree with me in that." He took a swallow of the

"Perhaps. We shall not cross purposes. When men plot as I do, they stop at nothing, not even at that

infinitesimal minutiae called the spark of life. It becomes a matter of self preservation. I am in too deep

water; I must keep on. I can not now turn back; the first shore is too far away."

"An act in which a man accepts pay from one to ruin him for another. That is villainy, without a single saving

"That is plain language. You do not take into consideration the villain's motives. There may be certain ends

necessary as his life's blood, which may be gained only by villainy, which, after all, is a hard name for

"Oh, I do not suppose you are worse than the majority. But it appeals to me as rather a small, unmanly game

when your victims are a man who is dying and a girl who knows nothing of the world nor its treachery."

An almost imperceptible smile passed over Beauvais's countenance. "So her Highness has captured your

"I admit that; she would capture the sympathies of any man who has a good pair of eyes in his head. But you

The Colonel studied the end of his cigar. "What is to be your stand in this affair?"

"Neutral as possible, for the simple reason that I have passed my word to Madame; compulsorily, it is true; I

shall abide by it. That is not to say that my sympathies are not wholly with the Osians. Madame is a brilliant

woman, resourceful, initiative; she has as many sides as a cut diamond; moreover, her cause is just. But I do

not like the way she has gone about the recovery of her throne. She has broken, or will break, a fine honest

heart; she tried to break another, but, not being above the pantry maid, the subject of her attention failed to

Beauvais laughed at this. "You are very good company. Let me advise you to remain neutral. I wish you no

"Pouf! you would vanish. O, I should not stoop to murder; that is a vulgar word and practice. I should place a

sword in your hand and give you the preference of a gentleman's death. I see nothing to prevent me from

carrying out that this very night," with a nod toward the rapiers which hung from the opposite wall.

"You might be surprised at the result," said Maurice, stretching his legs. "But at present I have no desire to

quarrel with you, or to put your skill to a test. Once Madame gives me back my word, why, I do not say." He

dipped his hand toward the ashpan. "Human nature is full of freaks. A man will commit all sorts of crimes,

yet stand by his word. Not that I have committed any crimes against the ten commandments."

"So I did." Maurice blew a puff of smoke into the chimneyplace and watched it sail upward and vanish.

There was no eluding a statement so bald as this. Beauvais sat upright. "To call me a liar is a privilege which

"I did not call you a liar," undisturbed. "You wrote it down yourself, and I simply agreed to it. A duel? Well,

I shall not fight you. Dueling is obsolete, and it never demonstrated the right or wrong of a cause. Since my

part in this affair is one of neutrality, and since to gain that knowledge was the object of your invitation, I will

He rose and looked at the porcelain clock. As he did so his gaze rested on a small photograph standing at the

side of it. He scanned it eagerly. It was a face of dark Castilian beauty. He turned and looked at Beauvais

long and earnestly. There was an answering gaze, an immobility of countenance. Maurice experienced a

slight shock. The haze over his memory was dispersed. The whole scene, in which this man loomed in the

Maurice, never dreaming of the trap, fell head foremost into it. "I have traveled a good deal," he began. "I

"Ah!" This ejaculation expressed nothing. In fact, Beavais was smiling. There was a sinister something

He went on. "Yes, to South America. I was there in a diplomatic capacity, during one of the many

revolutions. This country was the paradise of adventurers, the riffraff of continental social outcasts. I

distinctly remember the leader of this revolution. Up to the very last day, Captain Urquijo was the

confidential friend of the president whom he was about to ruin. Through the president's beautiful daughter

Urquijo picked up his threads and laid his powder train. The woman loved him as women sometimes love

rascals. The president was to be assassinated and his rival installed. Captain Urquijo was to be made General

"One fine day the troops lined both sides of the plaza, the square also about which lay the government

buildings. It was the event of some celebration; I believe the throwning off of the yoke of Spain. The city

flocked into the plaza. Strangely enough, those who were disaffectedthe soldiers under Urquijofaced the

loyal troops. By a preconceived plan, the artillery was under the command of Urquijo. Suddenly this

Captain's murderous and traitorous guns swept the plaza, mangling women and children. There was a flaw,

however, in the stroke. Urquijo fled, a reward posted for his headmind you, his head; they did not want

"The daughter expiates her foolish love in a convent. Her disgraces proved too much for her father, who blew

out his brains. The successor secured extradition papers in all the leading capitals of the world. The story was

the sensation of the day; the newspapers made much of it. All governments offered to assist the republic in

hounding down this rascal. To whatever country he belonged, that country promised to disown him." _ .

Maurice took the photograph. and cast it into Beauvais's lap. "Do you recognize that face? Is it not a mute

accusation to your warped conscience?" The voice, changing from the monotone of narrative, grew strong

and contemptuous. "I know you. I recognizcd you the moment I laid eyes on you, only I could not place you.

Perhaps it was because it did not seem possible that you would dare show your face to civilized people. That

photograph has done its work. By the Lord, but you're a fine rascal! Not a bit changed. Have you forgotten

"You are a very young man," said Beauvais, rising. He was still smiling. "Do you know why I asked you

here? For this very reason. Madame divined you well. She said that you had a dash of what romanticists call

valor, but that you never saw an inch before your nose. I knew that you would be at the archbishop's; I knew

that you would follow me to this room. Indeed, you might have suspected as much by the unusual

arrangement of the fixtures of the room. I placed that photograph there, trusting to your rather acute eyesight.

"My memory seems to be better than yours. I knew you the first time I saw you in Bleiborg. I was waiting

only to see how much you had remembered. I am not Colonel Beauvais; I am not Urquijo; I am the last of a

noble Austrian house, in exile, but on the eve of recall. Your knowledge would, of course, be disastrous to

my ambitions. That is why I wanted to find out how much you know. You know too much, too much by half;

and since you have walked into the lion's den, you shall never leave it alive." With this he sprang to the wall

Maurice felt the hand of paralysis on his nerves. He looked at the rapier, then at Beauvais, dazed and

"And when they find you in some alley in the lower town they will put it down to thieves. You are young and

thoughtless," Beauvais went on banteringly. "A little discretion and you might have gone with a whole skin.

We never forget a woman's face, and I knew that you would not forget hers. Don't trouble yourself about

leaping through the windows; the fall will kill you less effectually than I shall."

Maurice pulled himself together. The prospect of death brought back lucidity of mind. He at once saw the

hopelessness of his position. He cursed his lack of forethought. He became pale and furious, but his head

"To shield one crime, a man must commit many others. O, this will not be murder. It will be a duel, in which

you will have no chance. Pick up the sword, if only for form's sake." Beauvais caught the wrist thong of the

rapier between his teeth and rapidly divested himself of his jacket and saber straps. With his back toward the

door, he rolled up his sleeve and discovered a formidable forearm. He tried the blade and thrust several times

"What promise have I," said Maurice, "that you will not run me through when I stoop for the sword?" This

Beauvais laughed. "I never get angry in moments like these. I am giving you a sword to ease my conscience.

Maurice had faced death before, but with more confidence. The thought that he had poked his head into a trap

stirred him disagreeably. He saw that Beauvais possessed a superabundance of confidence, and confidence is

half of any battle. He picked up the sword and held it between his knees, while he threw off his coat and vest,

and unbuttoned his collar and cuffs. What he had to sell would be sold as dearly as possible. He tested the

There comes a moment to every man, who faces an imminent danger, when the mental vision expands and he

sees beyond. By this transient gift of prescience he knows what the end will be, whether he is to live or die.

As Maurice looked into the merciless eyes of his enemy, a dim knowledge came to him that this was to be an

event and not a catastrophe, a fragment of a picture yet to be fully drawn. His confidence and courage

returned. He thanked God, however, that the light above equalized their positions, and that the shadows were

The swords came together with a click light but ominous. Immediately Beauvais stepped back, suddenly

threw forward his body, and delivered three rapid thrusts. Maurice met them firmly, giving none.

"Ah!" cried Beauvais; "that is good. You know a little. There will be sport, besides."

Maurice shut his lips the tighter, and worked purely on the defensive. His fencing master had taught him two

things, silence and watchfulness. While Beauvais made use of his forearm, Maurice as yet depended solely on

his wrist. Once they came together, guard to guard, neither daring to break away until by mutual agreement,

spoken only by the eyes, both leaped backward out of reach. There was no sound save the quick light stamp

of feet and the angry murmur of steel scraping against steel. Sometimes they moved circlewise, with free

blades, waiting and watching. Up to now Beauvais's play had been by the book, so to speak, and he began to

"Which side is the pretty rose?" seeking to distract Maurice. "Tell me, and I will pin it to you."

"It is too, bad," went on Beauvais, "that her Highness finds a lover only to lose him. You fool! I read your

eyes when you picked up that rose. Princesses are not for such as you. I will find her a lover, it will be neither

you nor Prince Frederickah! you caught that nicely. But you depend too much on the wrist. Presently it

Now and then a a flame, darting from the grate, sparkled on the polished steel, and from the steel it shot into

the watchful eyes. A quarter of an hour passed; still Maurice remained on the defensive. At first Beauvais

misunderstood the reason, and thought Maurice did not dare run the risk of passing from defensive to

offensive. But by and by the froth of impatience crept into his veins. He could not penetrate above or below

that defense. The man before him was of marble, with a wrist of iron; he neither smiled nor spoke, there was

no sign of life at all, except in the agile legs, the wrist, and eyes. The Colonel decided to change his tactics.

"When I have killed you," he said, "I shall search your pockets, for I know that you lie when you say that you

have not those certificates. Madame was a fool to send you. No man lives who may be trusted. And what is

your game? Save the Osians? Small good it will do you. Her Highness will wed Prince

Frederickmayhapand all you will get is cold thanks. And in such an event, have you reckoned on

Madame the duchess? War! And who will win? Madame; for she has not only her own army, but mine.

Come, come! Speak, for when you leave this room your voice will be silent. Make use of the gift, since it is

about to leave you." The reply was a sudden straightening of the arm. The blade slipped in between the

Colonel's forearm and body, and was out again before the soldier fully comprehended what had happened.

Maurice permitted a cold smile to soften the rigidity of his face. Beauvais saw the smile, and read it. The

thrust had been rendered harmless intentionally. An inch nearer, and he had been a dead man. To accomplish

such a delicate piece of sword play required nothing short of mastery. Beauvais experienced a disagreeable

chill, which was not unmixed with chagrin. The boy had held his life in his hand, and had spared it. He set his

teeth, and let loose with a fury before which nothing could stand; and Maurice was forced back step by step

For the next few minutes it took all the splendid defense Maurice possessed to keep the spark in his body.

The Colonel's sword was no longer a sword, it was a flame; which circled, darted, hissed and writhed. Twice

Maurice felt the bite of it, once in the arm and again in the thigh. These were not deep, but they told him that

the end was but a short way off. He had no match for this brilliant assault. Something must be done, and that

at once. He did not desire the Colonel's death, and the possibility of accomplishing this was now extremely

doubtful. But he wanted to live. Life was just beginningthe rough road had been left behind. He was

choosing between his life and the Colonel's. Beauvais, after the fashion of the old masters, was playing for

the throat. This upward thrusting, when continuous, is difficult to meet, and Maurice saw that sooner or later

the blade would reach home. If not sudden death, it meant speechlessness, and death as a finality. Then the

"I do not wish your life," he said, breaking the silence, "but at the same time I wish to liveah!" Maurice

leaped back just in time. As it was, the point of his enemy's blade scratched his chin.

They broke and circled. The Colonel feinted. Maurice, with his elbow against his side and his forearm

extended, waited. Again the Colonel lunged for the throat. This time, instead of meeting it in tierce, Maurice

threw his whole force forward in such a manner as to bring the steel guard of his rapier full on the Colonel's

point. There was a ringing sound of snapping steel, and the Colonel stood with nothing but a stump in his

"There you are," said Maurice, a heatflash passing over him. Had he swerved a hair's breadth from the line,

time would have tacked finis to the tale. "Now, I am perfectly willing to talk," putting his point to the

Colonel's breast. "It would inconvenience me to kill you, but do not count too much on that."

"Damn you!" cried the Colonel, giving way, his face yellow with rage, chagrin and fear. "Kill me, for I swear

"Damn away, chevalier d'industrie; damn away. But live, live, live! That will be the keenest punishment.

Live! O, my brave killer of boys, you thought to play with me as a cat with a mouse, eh? Eh, Captain

UrquijoBeauvaisandWhatisyourname?" He pressed the point here, there, everywhere. "You were too

confident. Pardon me if I appear to brag, but I have taken lessons of the best fencing masters in Europe, and

three times, while you devoted your talents to monologues, I could have pinned you like one of those

butterflies on the wall there. Have you ever heard of the sword of Damocles? Well, well; it hangs over many

a head today. I will be yours. I give you fortyeight hours to arrange your personal affairs. If after that time

you are still in this part of the country, I shall inform the proper authorities in Vienna. The republic has

representation there. Of a noble Austrian house, on the eve of recall? I think not."

"No, no!" laughed Maurice, making rapid prods which caused Beauvais to wince. "Now, back; farther,

Beauvais suddenly wheeled and dashed for the mantel. But as he endeavored to lay hand on the revolver

Maurice brought down the blade on the Colonel's knuckles, leaving a livid welt. Maurice took possession of

the weapon, while a grimace of agony shot over the Colonel's face. Seeing that the chambers were loaded,

"Well, well!" he said, cocking the weapon. "And I saw it when I entered the room. It would have saved a

good deal of trouble." Beauvais grew white. "O," Maurice continued, "I am not going to shoot you. I wish

merely to call your valet." He aimed at the grate and pressed the trigger, and the report, vibrating within the

A moment passed, and the valet, with bulging eyes and blanched face, peered in. Seeing how matters stood,

Maurice leveled the smoking revolver. "Come in, Francois; your master will have need of you."

Francois complied, vertigo in his limbs. "My God!" he cried, wringing his hands.

"Your master tried to murder me," said Maurice. Francois had heard voices like this before, and it conveyed

to him that a fine quality of anger lay close to the surface. "Take down yonder window curtain cord."

"Francois," cried the Colonel, "if you so much as lay a finger on me, I'll kill you."

"My God!" wailed the valet at loss which to obey when to obey either meant death. His teeth chattered.

"You may have all the time you want, Francois, to wring your hands when I am gone. Come; to work.

Colonel, submit. I'm in a hurry and have no time to spare. While I do not desire to kill you, selfpreservation

will force me to put a bullet into your hide, which will make you an inmate of the city hospital. Bind his

"So will I," grimly; "by God, I will!" Beauvais had a plan. If he could keep Maurice long enough, help might

arrive. And he had an excellent story to tell. Still Francois doddered. With his eye on the Colonel and the

revolver sighted, Maurice picked up the sword. He gave Francois a vigorous prod. Francois needed no further

inducement. He started forward with alacrity. In the wink of an eye he threw the cord around Beauvais's arms

and pinned them to his sides. Beauvais swore, but the valet was strong in his fright. He struggled and wound

and knotted and tied, murmuring his pitiful "Mon Dieu!" the while, till the Colonel was the central figure of a

"That will do," said Maurice. "Now, Francois, good and faithful servant, take your master over to the lounge,

and sit down beside him until I get into my clothes. Yes; that's it." He shoved his collar and tie into a pocket,

slipped on his vest and coat, put on his hat and slung his topcoat over his arm. During these maneuvers the

revolver remained conspicuously in sight. "Now, Francois, lead the way to the street door. By the time you

return to your illustrious master, who is the prince or duke of something or other, pursuit will be out of the

question. Now, as for you," turning to Beauvais, "the fortyeight hours hold good. During that time I shall go

armed. Fortyeight hours from now I shall inform the authorities at the nearest consulate. If they catch you,

"Come so far as this door," warned Maurice, "and, bound or not, I'll knock you down. Hang you! Do you

think my temper will improve in your immediate vicinity? Do you think for a moment that I do not lust for

your blood as heartily as you lust for mine? Go to the devil your own way; you'll go fast enough!" He caught

Francois by the shoulders and pushed him into the hall, followed, and closed the door. Francois had been

graduated from the stables, therefore his courage never rose to sublime heights. All the way down the stairs

he lamented; and each time he turned his head and saw the glitter of the revolver barrel he choked with terror.

"If you do not kill me, Monsieur, he will; he will, I know he will! My God, how did it happen? He will kill

Despite the gravity of the situation, Maurice could not repress his laughter. "He will not harm you; he

threatened you merely to delay me. Open the door." He stepped out into the refreshing air. "By the way, tell

your master not to go to the trouble of having me arrested, for the first thing in the morning I shall place a

sealed packet in the hands of the British minister, to be opened if I do not call for it within twentyfour hours.

"Mon Dieu! A woman! I might have known!" ejaculated Francois, as the door banged in his face. Maurice,

on reaching the pavement, took to his legs, for he saw three men rapidly approaching. Perhaps they had heard

the pistol shot. He concluded not to wait to learn. He continued his rush till he gained his room. It was two

o'clock. He had been in the Colonel's room nearly three hours. It seemed only so many minutes. He hunted

for his brandy, found it and swallowed several mouthfuls. Then he dropped into a chair from sheer

exhaustion. Reaction laid hold of him. His hands shook, his legs trembled, and perspiration rolled down his

"By George!" This exclamation stood alone, but it was an Odyssey. He remained stupefied, staring at his

shoes, over which his stockings had fallen. His shirt buttons were gone, and the bosom was guiltless of its

former immaculateness. After a time he became conscious of a burning pain in the elbow of his right arm. He

glanced down at his hand, to find it covered with drying blood. He jumped up and cast about his clothes. One

leg of his trousers was soaked, and the dull ache in his thigh told the cause. He salved the wounds and bound

them in strips of handkerchiefs, which he held in place by using some of the castoff cravats.

"That was about as close to death as a man can get and pull out. I feel as if I had swallowed that cursed blade

of his. I am an ass, sure enough. I've always a bad cold when there's a rat about; can't smell him. And the

rascal remembered me! Will he stay in spite of my threat? I'll hang on here till tomorrow. If he staysI

won't. He has the devil's own of a sword. Hang it, my nerves are all gone to smash."

Soon some gentler thought took hold, and he smiled tenderly. He brought forth the rose, turned it this way

and that, studied it, stroked it, held it to his lips as a lover holds the hand of the woman he loves. Her rose;

somehow his heart told him that she had laughed because Beauvais had stooped in vain.

"Ah, Maurice," he said, "you are growing over fond. But why not? Who will know? To have loved is

He crept into bed; but sleep refused him its offices, and he tossed about in troubled dreams. He fought all

kinds of duels with all sorts of weapons. He was killed a half dozen times, but the archbishop always gave

him something which rekindled the vital spark. A thousand Beauvaises raged at him. A thousand princesses

were ever in the background, waiting to be saved. He swore to kill these Beauvaises, and after many fruitless

endeavors, he succeeded in smothering them in their gray pelisses. Then he woke, as dreamers always wake

when they pass some great dreamcrisis, and found himself in a deadly struggle with a pillow and a

So he lit his pipe and sat dreaming with his eyes open, smoking and smoking, until the sickly pallor of dawn

Marshal Kampf, wrapt in his military cloak, with the peak of his cap drawn over his eyes, sat on one of the

rustic benches in the archbishop's gardens and reflected. The archbishop had announced an informal levee,

the first since the king's illness. He had impressed the Marshal with the fact that his presence was both urgent

and necessary. Disturbed as he was by the unusual command, the Marshal had arrived an hour too early.

Since the prelate would not rise until nine, the Marshal told the valet that he would wait in the gardens.

An informal levee, he mused. What was the meaning of it? Had that master of craft and silence found a

breach in the enemy's fortifications? He rubbed the chill from his nose, crossed and recrossed his legs and

So far as he himself was concerned, he was not worried. The prelate knew his views and knew that he would

stand or fall with them. He had never looked for benefits, as did those around him. He had offered what he

had without hope of reward, because he had considered it his duty. And, after all, what had the Osian done

that he should be driven to this ignominious end? His motives never could be questioned; each act had been

in some way for the country's good. Every king is a usurper to those who oppose him.

Would the kingdom be bettered in having a queen against whom the confederation itself was opposed?

Would it not be adding a twofold burden to the one? The kingdom was at peace with those countries from

which it had most to fear. Was it wise to antagonize them? Small independent states were independent only

by courtesy. Again, why had Austria contrived to place an alien on the throne, in face of popular sentiment?

Would Austria's interests have been less safe in the advent of rightful succession? Up to now, what had

Austria gained by ignoring the true house? Outwardly nothing, but below the surface? Who could answer?

For eleven years he had tried to discover the secret purpose of Austria, but, like others, he had failed; and the

Austrian minister was less decipherable than the "Chinese puzzle." He was positive that none of the

archconspirators knew; they were blinded by selfinterest. And the archbishop? The Marshal rubbed his

nose again, not, however, because it was cold. Did any one know what was going on behind the smiling mask

which the reticent prelate showed to the world? The Marshal poked his chin above his collar, and the

The sky was clear and brilliant, and a tonic from the forests sweetened the rushing air. The lake was ruffled

out of its usual calm, and rolled and galloped along the distant shores and flashed on the golden sands. Above

the patches of red and brown and yellow the hills and mountains stood out in bold, decided lines.

Water fowl swept along the marshes. The doves in twos and threes fluttered down to the path, strutted about

in their peculiarly awkward fashion, and doubtfully eyed the silent gray figure on the bench, as if to question

his right to be there this time of the morning, their trysting hour. Presently the whole flock came down, and

Her Royal Highness was coming through the opening in the hedgerow which separated the two confines. She

carried a basket on her arm, and the bulldog followed at her heels, holding his injured leg in the air, and

limping on the remaining three. At the sight of her the doves rose and circled above her head. She smiled and

threw into the air handful after handful of cake and bread crumbs. In their eagerness the doves alighted on her

shoulders, on the rim of the basket, and even on the broad back of the dog, who was too sober to give

attention to this seeming indignity. He kept his eye on his mistress's skirts, moved when she moved, and

The Marshal, with a curious sensation in his heart, observed this exquisite, living picture. He was childless;

and though he was by nature undemonstrative, he was very fond of this youth. Her cheeks were scarlet, her

rosy lips were parted in excitement, and her eyes glistened with pleasure. With all her twenty years, she was

but ten in fancy; a woman, yet a child, unlettered in worldly wit, wise in her love of nature. Not until she had

thrown away the last of the crumbs did she notice the Marshal. He rose and bowed.

"Good morning, your Highness. I am very much interested in your court. And do you hold it every morning?"

"Even when it rains," she said, smiling. "I am so glad to see you; I wanted to talk to you last night, but I could

And youth and age sat down together. The bulldog planted himself in the middle of the path and blinked at

his sworn enemy. The Marshal had no love for him, and he was well aware of it; at present, an armistice.

The princess gazed at the rollicking waters, at her doves, thence into the inquiring gray eyes of the old

"Do you remember," she said, "how I used to climb on your knees, ever so long ago, and listen to your fairy

"Eh! And is it possible that your Highness remembers?" wrinkles of delight gathering in his cheeks. "But why

"I am like my father; I never forget!" She looked toward the waters again. "I can recall only one story. It was

about a princess who lost all her friends through the offices of a wicked fairy. I remember it because it was

the only story you told me that had a sad ending. It was one of Andersen's. Her father and mother died, and

the moment she was left alone her enemies set to work and toppled over her throne. She was cast out into the

world, having no friend but a dog; but the dog always found something to eat, and protected her from giants

"Many a time I thought of her, and cried because she was so unhappy. Well, she traveled from place to place,

footsore and weary, but in her own country no one dared aid her, for fear of displeasing the wicked fairy, who

at this time was all powerful. So she entered a strange land, where some peasants took her in, clothed and fed

her, and gave her a staff and a flock of geese to tend. And day after day she guarded the flock, telling her

"One day the reigning prince of this strange land passed by while hunting, and he saw the princess tending

her geese. He made inquiries, and when he found that the beautiful goosegirl was a princess, he offered to

marry her. She consented to become his wife, because she was too delicate to drudge. So she and her dog

went to live at the palace. Once she was married the dog behaved strangely, whining softly, and refusing to

"Alas! It seems that when she left her own country the good fairy had lost all track of her, to find her when it

was too late. The dog was a prince under a wicked spell, and when the spell fell away the princess knew that

she loved him, and not her husband. She pined away and died. How many times I have thought of her, poor,

The old soldier blinked at the doves, and there was a furrow between his eyes. Yes; how well he remembered

telling her that story. But, as she repeated it, it was clothed with a strange significance. Somehow, he found

"Monsieur," she said suddenly, "tell me, what has my poor father done that these people should hate him and

"He has been kind to them, my child," his gaze still riveted on the doves; "that is all. He has given them

beautiful parks, he has made them a beautiful city. A king who thinks of his people's welfare is never

understood. And ignorant and ungrateful people always hate those to whom they are under obligations. It is

"Yes. They whisper thatthatO, Marshal, is it you who will forsake us in our need? I have heard many

things of late which were not intended for my ears. My father and I, we are so alone. I have never known the

comradeship of young people; I have never had that which youth longs fora confidant of my own age. The

young people I know serve me simply for their own ends, and not because they love me.

"I have never spoken thus before today, save to this dog. He has been my confidant; but he can not speak

except with his kind old eyes, and he can not understand as I would have him. And they hate even him

"What my father has done has always been wrong in his own eyes, but he sinned for my sake, and God will

forgive him. He gave up the home he loved for my sake. O, that I had known and understood! I was only six.

We are so alone; we have no place to go, no friends save two, and they are helpless. And now I am to make a

sacrifice for him to repay him for all he has done for me. I have promised my hand to one I do not love; even

he forsakes me. But love is not the portion of princesses. Love to them is a fairy story. To secure my father's

throne I have sacrificed my girlhood dreams. Ah! and they were so sweet and dear."

She put a hand to her throat as if something had tightened there. "Marshal, I beg of you to tell me the truth,

the truth! Is my father dying? Is he? Hethey will not tell me the truth. And I . . . never to hear his voice

again! The truth, for pity's sake!" She caught at his hands and strove to read his eyes. "For pity's sake!"

He drew his breath deeply. He dared not look into her eyes for fear she might see the tears in his; so he bent

hastily and pressed her hands to his lips. But in his heart he knew that his promise to the dead was gone with

the winds, and that he would shed the last drop of blood in his withered veins for the sake of this sad, lonely

"Your father, my child, will never stand up straight again," he said. "As for the rest, that is in the hands of

God. But I swear to you that this driedup old heart beats only for you. I will stand or fall with you, in good

times or bad." And he rubbed his nose more fiercely than ever. "Had I a daughter But there! I have none."

"My heart is breaking," she said, with a little sob. She sank back, her head drooped to the arm of the bench,

and she made no effort to stem the flood of tears. "I have no mother, and now my father is to leave me. And I

love him so, I love him so! He has sacrificed all his happiness to secure minein vain. I laugh and smile

At this juncture the doves rose hurriedly. The Marshal discovered the archbishop's valet making toward him.

"Immediately;" and the Marshal rose. He placed his hand on the dark head. "Keep up your heart, my child,"

he said, "and we shall see if I have grown too old for service." He squared his shoulders and followed the

valet, who viewed the scene with a valet's usual nonchalance. When the Marshal reached the steps to the side

entrance, he looked back. The dog had taken his place, and the girl had buried her face in his neck. A moment

later the old soldier was ushered into the archbishop's presence, but neither with fear nor uneasiness in his

"Ah ! Good morning, Marshal," said the prelate. "Be seated. Did you not find it chilly in the gardens?"

"Yes," answered the observant soldier. "My heart has ever been hers; this time it is my hand and brain."

The prelate's egg spoon remained poised in midair; then it dropped with a clatter into the cup! But a moment

"Did I say 'and'? Well, then," stolidly, "perhaps that is the word I meant to use. If I do the one I shall certainly

"But a man, a lonely man like myself, can not always master the impulses of the heart; and I have surrendered

The listener turned to some documents which lay beside the cup, and idly fingered them. "I am glad; I am

very glad. I have always secretly admired you; and to tell the truth, I have feared you most of allbecause

The Marshal shifted his saber around and drew his knees together. "I return the compliment," frankly. "I have

"Because Leopold of Osia would never have forsaken his birthright, nor looked toward a throne, had you not

"And share his greatness," was the shrewd rejoinder. "I am an old man, and frankness in old age is

pardonable. There are numbers of disinterested men in the world, but unfortunately they happen to be dead.

O, I do not blame you; there is human nature in most of us. But the days of Richelieus and Mazarins are past.

The Church is simply the church, and is no longer the power behind the throne. I have served the house of

Auersperg for fifty years, that is to say, since I was sixteen; I had hoped to die in the service. Perhaps my own

"And as I now stand I shall die neither in the service of the house of Auersperg nor of Osia. It is not the

"I need not tell you," said the prelate quietly, "that I am in Bleiberg only for that purpose. And since we are

together, I will tell you this: Madame the duchess will never sit upon this throne. Today I am practically

regent, with full powers from his Majesty. I have summoned von Wallenstein and Mollendorf for a purpose

which I shall make known to you." He held up two documents, and gently waving them: "These contain the

dismissal of both gentlemen, together with my reasons. There were three; one I shall now destroy because it

has suddenly become void." He tore it up, turned, and flung the pieces into the grate.

The Marshal glanced instinctively at his shoulder straps, and saw that they had come very near to oblivion.

"There is nothing more, Marshal," went on the prelate. "What I had to say to you has slipped my mind. Under

the change of circumstances, it might embarrass you to meet von Wallenstein and Mollendorf. You have

spoken frankly, and in justice to you I will return in kind. Yes, in the old days I was ambitious; but God has

punished me through those I love. I shall leave to you the selection of a new Colonel of the cuirassiers."

"Yes. My plans require it. I have formed a new cabinet, which will meet tonight at eight. I shall expect you

The two old men rose. Suddenly, a kindly smile broke through the austereness of the prelate's countenance,

"Providence always watches over the innocent," said the prelate, "else we would have been still at war. Good

Ten minutes after the Marshal's departure, von Wallenstein and Mollendorf entered the prelate's breakfast

"Good morning, Messieurs," said the churchman, the expression on his face losing its softness, and the glint

of triumph stealing into his keen eyes. "I am acting on behalf of his Majesty this morning," presenting a

document to each. "Observe them carefully." He turned and left the room. The archbishop had not only eaten

Count von Wallenstein watched the retreating figure of the prelate till the door closed behind it; then he

smiled at Mollendorf, who had not the courage to return it, and who stared at the parchment in his hand as if

"Monseigneur," said the count, as he glanced through the contents of the document, "has forestalled me.

"Perhaps," faltered Mollendorf, "he has played his first card. What are you going to do?"

"Count, I tell you that the archbishop is not a man to play thus unless something strong were behind him. You

Von Wallenstein recalled the warning of the Colonel of the cuirassiers. "Nevertheless, we are too strong to

"Monseigneur is in correspondence with Austria," said the minister of police, quietly.

The count's gaze roamed about the room, and finally rested on the charred slips of paper in the grate. He

"If he corresponds with Austria it is too late," he said. "Come, let us go." He snapped his fingers in the air,

The princess still remained on the rustic bench; her head was bowed, but her tears were dried.

A few doves fluttered about her; the hills flamed beneath the chill September sky, the waters sang and

Maurice, who had wisely slept the larger part of the day, and amused himself at solitary billiards until dinner,

came out on the terrace to smoke his afterdinner cigar. He watched the sun as, like a ball of rusted brass, it

slid down behind the hills, leaving the glowing embers of a smoldering day on the hilltops. The vermilion

deepened into charred umber, and soon the west was a blackened grate; another day vanished in ashes. The

filmy golden pallor of twilight now blurred the landscape; the wind increased with a gayer, madder, keener

touch; the lake went billowing in shadows of gray and black, and one by one the lamps of the city sprang up,

vivid as sparks from an anvil. Now and again the thin, clear music of the band drifted across from the park.

The fountain glimmered in the Platz, the cafes began to glitter, carriages rolled hither and thither. The city

"Well, here's another day gone," he mused, rubbing his elbow, which was yet stiff. "I am anxious to know

what that sinner is doing. Has he pulled up stakes or has he stayed to get a whack at me? I hope he's gone;

he's a bad Indian, and if anything, he'll want my scalp in his belt before he goes. Hang it! It seems that I have

poked my head into every bear trap in the kingdom. I may not get out of the next one. How clever I was, to be

sure! It all comes from loving the dramatic. I am a diplomat, but nobody would guess it at first sight. To talk

to a man as I talked to him, and to threaten! He said I was young; I was, but I grow older every day. And the

wise word now is, don't imitate the bull of the trestle," as he recalled an American cartoon which at that day

"I like adventure, I know, but I'm going to give the Colonel a wide berth. If he sees me first, off the board I

go. Where will he goto the duchy? I trust not; we both can not settle in that territory; it's too small. And yet

I am bound to go back; it is not my promise so much as it is my cursed curiosity. By George!" rubbing his

elbow gently. "And to think, Maurice, that you might not have witnessed this sunset but for a bit of fencing

trickery. What a turn that picture of Inez gave me! I knew him in a secondand like the ass I was, I told him

so. And to meet him here, almost a lefthanded king; no wonder I did not recognize him.

"I should like to come in on Fitzgerald tonight. His father must have had a crazy streak in him somewhere.

Four millions to throw away; humph! And who the deuce has those certificates?" He lolled against the

parapet. "If I had four millions, and if Prince Frederick had disappeared for good. . . . Why are things so

jumbled up, at sixes and sevens? We are all human beings; why should some be placed higher than others? A

"Sometimes I like to get up high somewhere and look down on every one else; every one else looks so small

that it's comforting. The true philosopher has no desire; he sits down and views the world as if he were not a

part of it. Perhaps it is best so. Yes, I would like four millions and a principality. . . . Heigho! how bracing the

air is, and what a night for a ride! I've a mind to exercise Madame's horse. A long lone ride on the opposite

side of the lake, on the road to Italy; come, let's try it. Better that than mope."

He mounted to the veranda, and for the first time he noticed the suppressed excitement which lit the faces of

those around him. Groups were gathered here and there, talking, gesticulating, and flourishing the evening

"By George, something has happened since last night. I must have an evening paper." He found one, and read

an elaborate account of what had taken place during the day. Von Wallenstein had been relieved of the

finance. Mollendorf of the police, Erzberg of foreign affairs, and Beauvais of his epaulettes. There remained

only the archbishop, the chancellor and the Marshal. The editorial was virulent in its attack on the archbishop,

blustered and threatened, and predicted that the fall of the dynasty was but a matter of a few hours. For it

asserted that the prelate could not form another cabinet, and without a cabinet there could be no government.

It was not possible for the archbishop to shoulder the burden alone; he must reinstate the ministry or fall.

"And this is the beginning of the end," said Maurice, throwing aside the paper. "What will happen next? The

old prelate is not a man to play to the gallery. Has he found out the double dealing of Beauvais? That takes a

burden off my shoulders unless he goes at once to the duchy. But why wasn't the cabinet dismissed ages

ago? It is now too late. And where is Prince Frederick to the rescue? There is something going on, and what it

That smile of his! How will it end? I'd like to see von Mitter, who seems to be a good gossip. And that poor,

He left the chair and paced the office confines. Only one thing went echoing through his brain, and that was

he could do nothing. The sooner he settled down in the attitude of a spectator the better for him. Besides, he

was an official in the employ of a foreign country, and it would be the height of indiscretion to meddle, even

in a private capacity. It would be to jeopardize his diplomatic career, and that would be ridiculous.

"My dear Carewe: I have a service to ask of you. The British minister is worried over the disappearance of a

fellow countryman, Lord Fitzgerald. He set out for Bleiberg, leaving instructions to look him up if nothing

was heard of him within a week. Two weeks have gone. Knowing you to be in Bleiberg, I believed you might

take the trouble to look into the affair. The British ambassador hints at strange things, as if he feared foul

play. I shall have urgent need of you by the first of October; our charge d'affaires is to return home on

account of illhealth, and your appointment to that office is a matter of a few days."

Maurice whistled. "That is good news; not Haine's illness, but that I have an excuse to meddle here. I'll

telegraph at once. And I'll take the ride besides." He went to his room and buckled on his spurs, and

thoughtfully slipped his revolver into a pocket. "I am not going to take any chances, even in the dark." Once

again in the office, he stepped up to the desk and ordered his horse to be brought around to the cafe entrance.

"Certainly," said the clerk. Then in low tones "There has been a curious exchange in saddles, Monsieur."

"Yes. The saddle in your stall is, curiously enough, stamped with the arms of the house of Auersperg. How

"O," said Maurice, with an assumption of carelessness; "that is all right. It's the saddle I arrived on. The horse

and saddle belong to Madame the duchess. I have been visiting at the Red Chateau. I shall return in the

"Ah," said the clerk, with a furtive smile which Maurice lost; "that accounts for the mystery."

"Here are two letters that must get in tonight's mails," Maurice said; "and also this telegram should be sent

"As Monsieur desires. Ah, I came near forgetting. There is a note for Monsieur, which came this afternoon

The envelope was unstamped, and the scrawl was unfamiliar to Maurice. On opening it he was surprised to

find a hurriedly written note from Fitzgerald. In all probability it had been brought by the midnight courier on

"In God's name, Maurice, why do you linger? Tomorrow morning those consols must be here or they will

Maurice perused it twice, and pulled at his lips. "Madame becomes impatient. Poor devil. Somebody is likely

to become suddenly rich and somebody correspondingly poor. What will they say when I return

emptyhanded? Like as not Madame will accuse meand Fitzgerald will believe her! . . . The archbishop!

That accounts for this bold move. And how the deuce did he get hold of them? I give up." And his shoulders

He passed down into the cafe, from there to his horse, which a groom was holding at the curb. He swung into

The early moon lifted its silvery bulk above the ragged east, and the patches of clouds which swarmed over

the face of that white world of silence resembled so many rooks. Far away, at the farthermost shore of the

lake, whenever the moon went free from the clouds, Maurice could see the slim gray line of the road which

"It's a fine night," he mused, glancing heavenward. The horse answered the touch of the spurs, and cantered

away, glad enough to exchange the close air of the stables for this fresh gift of the night. Maurice guided him

around the palaces into the avenue, which derived its name from the founder of the opera, in which most of

the diplomatic families lived. Past the residence of Beauvais he went, and, gazing up at the lightless

windows, a cold of short duration seized his spine. It bad been a hair's breadth betwixt him and death. "Your

room, Colonel, is better than you company; and hereafter I shall endeavor to avoid both. I shall feel that

Carriages rolled past him. A gay throng in evening dress was crowding into the opera. The huge placard

announced, "Norma Mlle. LenormandRoyal Opera Troupe." How he would have liked to hear it, with

Lenormand in the title role. He laughed as he recalled the episodes in Vienna which were associated with this

queen of song. He waved his hand as the opera house sank in the distance. "Au revoir, Celeste, ma

charmante; adieu." By and by he reached the deserted part of the city, and in less than a quarter of an hour

branched off into the broad road bordering the lake. The horse quickened his gait as he felt the stone of the

streets no longer beneath his feet, which now fell with muffled rhythm on the sound earth. Maurice shared

"A fine night, eh, old boy? I've ridden many backs, but none easier than yours. This air is what gives the

blood its color. Too bad; you ought not to belong to Madame. She will never think as much of you as I

The city was falling away behind, and a yellow vapor rose over it. The lake tumbled in moonshine. Maurice

"God knows I love her; but what's the use? We can not all have what we want; let us make the best of what

we have. Philosophy is a comfort only to old age. Why should youth bother to reason why? And II have

not yet outgrown youth. I believed I had, but I have not. I did not dream she existed, and now she is more to

me than anything else in the world. Why; I wonder why? I look into a pair of brown eyes, and am seized with

madness. I hope. For what? O, Bucephalus! let us try to wake and leave the dream behind. The gratitude of a

princess and a dog . . . and for this a rose. Well, it will prove the substance of many a pipe, many a kindly

pipe. You miss a good deal, Bucephalus; smoking is an evil habit only to those who have not learned to

The animal replied with a low whinney, and Maurice, believing that the horse had given an ear to his

monologue, laughed. But he flattered himself. The horse whinneyed because he inhaled the faint odor of his

kind. He drew down on the rein and settled into a swinging trot, which to Maurice's surprise was faster and

easier than the canter. They covered a mile this way, when Maurice's roving eye discovered moving shadows,

"Hello! we're not the only ones jogging along. Eh, what's that?" Something flashed brightly, like silver

reflecting moonlight; then came a spark of flame, which died immediately, and later Maurice caught an echo

which resembled the bursting of a leaf against the lips. "Come; that looks like a pistol shot."

Again the flash of silver, broader and clearer this time; and Maurice could now separate the shadowshapes.

A carriage of some sort rolled from side to side, and two smaller shadows followed its wild flight.

Onetwothree times Maurice saw the sparks and heard the faint reports. He became excited. Something

extraordinary was taking place on the lonely road. Suddenly the top of the carriage replied with spiteful

flashes of red. Then the moon came out from behind the clouds, and the picture was vividly outlined. Two

continuous flashes of silver. . . . Cuirassiers! Maurice loosened the rein, and the horse went forward as

smoothly as a sail. The distance grew visibly less. The carriage opened fire again, and Maurice heard the

"The wrong man may get hit, Bucephalus," he said, bending to the neck of the horse; "which is not unusual.

You're pulling them down, old boy; keep it up. There's trouble ahead, and since the cuirassiers are for the

On they flew, nearer and nearer, until the pistol shots were no longer echoes. Two other horsemen came into

view, in advance of the carriage. Five minutes more of this exciting chase, and the faces took on lines and

grew into features. Up, up crept the gallant little horse, his hoofs rattling against the road like snares on a

drum. When within a dozen rods, Maurice saw one of the cuirassiers turn and level a revolver at him.

The face he saw was von Mitter's. His heart clogged in his throat, not at the danger which threatened him, but

A short time passed, during which nothing was heard but the striking of galloping hoofs and the rumble of the

carriage. Maurice soon drew abreast of von Mitter. There was a gash on the latter's cheek, and the blood from

"Close for you, my friend," he gasped; when he recognized the new arrival. "Have youGod! my leg that

Maurice shut his teeth, drew his revolver, cocked it and applied the spurs. With a bound he shot past von

Mitter, who was cursing deeply and trying to reload. Maurice did not propose to waste powder on the driver,

but was determined to bring down one of the carriage horses, which were marvelous brutes for speed.

Scharfenstein kept popping away at the driver, but without apparent result. Finally Maurice secured the

desired range. He raised the revolver, rested the barrel between the left thumb and forefinger and pressed the

trigger. The nearest carriage horse lurched to his knees, a bullet in his brain, dragging his mate with him. The

At once the two horsemen in front separated; one continued toward the great forest, while the other took to

the hills. Scharfenstein started in pursuit of the latter. As for the carriage, it came to an abrupt stand. The

driver made a flying leap toward the lake, but stumbled and fell, and before he could regain his feet Maurice

was off his horse and on his quarry. He caught the fellow by the throat and pressed him to the earth, kneeling

"Hold him!" cried von Mitter, coming up with a limp, "hold him till I knock in his head, damn him!"

"It's all up with me," groaned the Lieutenant. "I'll ask for my discharge. I could hit nothing, my hand

Maurice turned his attention to the man beneath him. "Now, you devil," he cried, "a clean breast of it, or off

the board you go. O!" suddenly peering down. "By the Lord, so it is youyouyou!" savagely bumping the

"Johann Kopf, a spy, a police rat, and God knows what else," answered von Mitter, limping toward the

carriage. "Curse the leg!" He forced the door and peered inside. "Fainted! I thought as much." He lifted the

inanimate bundle which lay huddled in between the seats and carried it to the side of the road, where he

tenderly laid it. He rubbed the girl's wrists, unmindful of the blood which fell from his face and left dark

stains on her dress. "Thank God," heartily, "that her Royal Highness was suffering from a headache. She

Maurice felt the straining cords in the prisoner's neck grow limp. The rascal had fainted.

"No. Her Royal Highness sent Camille, her maid of honor, veiled and dressed like herself, to play an innocent

jest on her old nurse. Some one shall account for this; for they mistook Camille for her Highness. I'm going to

"I'll cut it off," was the reply, "I shall faint if I do not cool off the leg. The ball is somewhere in the calf." And

he waded out into the water until it reached above his knees. Thus he stood for a moment, then returned to the

maid, who, on opening her eyes, screamed. "It is all over, Camille," said the Lieutenant, throwing an arm

"Your face is bleeding!" she cried, and sank back with her head against his broad breast.

"I killed his horse," he said, in response to queries, "but he fled into the woods where I could not follow. A

bad night for us, Carl, a bad night," swinging off his horse. "A boy would have done better work. Whom have

"Kopf," said Maurice, "and he has a ball somewhere inside," holding up a bloody hand.

The maid of honor placed her hands over her ears and screamed again. Max gazed at her, and, with a short,

The prisoner's eyes rolled wildly about. That frowning face above him . . . was it a vision? Who was it? What

"He looks as if he were done for," said Maurice, standing up. "Let us clear up the rubbish and hitch a horse to

"You are very handy, Carewe," said von Mitter gratefully, and he climbed in beside the maid, who, her fright

gone, gave way to womanly instincts. She took her kerchief and wiped the Lieutenant's cheek, pressing his

Maurice and Scharfenstein worked away at the traces, and dragged the dead horse to the side of the road.

Scharfenstein brought around von Mitter's horse, took oft the furnishings, and backed him into the pole.

Meanwhile the man lying by the water's edge showed signs of returning life. He turned his head cautiously.

His enemies were a dozen yards away from him. Slowly he rolled over on his stomach, thence to his knees.

"Ho, there! the prisoner!" cried von Mitter, tumbling out of the carriage. He tried to stand up, but a numbness

Maurice and Scharfenstein turned too late. Johann had mounted on Scharfenstein's horse, and was flying

away down the road. Maurice coolly leveled his revolver and sent two bullets after him. The second one

"Hurry!" cried Maurice; "I've hit him and we'll find him along the road somewhere."

They lifted von Mitter into the carriage, wheeled it about, and Scharfenstein mounted the box. Maurice

The cuirassiers stationed in the guardroom of the royal palace walked gently on the tiling, when occasion

required them to walk, and when they entered or left the room, they were particularly careful to avoid the

chink of the spur or the clank of the saber. Although the royal bedchamber was many doors removed, the

Captain had issued a warning against any unnecessary noise. A loud laugh, or the falling of a saber carelessly

rested, drew upon the unlucky offender the scowling eyes of the commander, who reclined in front of the

medieval fireplace, in which a solitary log burned, and brooded over past and present. The high revels in the

guardroom were no more, the cuirassiers were no longer made up of the young nobles of the kingdom; they

Twenty years ago the commander had come from Dresden as an instructor in arms, and after the first year

had watched over the royal household, in the service of the late king and the king who lay dying. He had

come of good family, but others had come oof better, and had carried of court honors, though his post in early

days had been envied by many. He was above all else a soldier, the embodiment of patience and integrity,

and he scorned to murmur because fortune had passed over his head. As he sucked at his pipe, he recalled the

days of Albrecht and his opera singers, the court scandals, and his own constant employment as messenger in

Albrecht had died a widower and childless, and with him had died the flower of court life. The courtiers and

sycophants had flocked to the standard of the duke, and had remained there, primarily because Leopold of

Osia promised a sedate and exemplary life. Sometimes the Captain shook his head, as if communing with

some unpleasant thought. On each side of him sat a soldier, also smoking and ruminating.

At the mess table a dozen or so whiled away the time at cards. The wavering lights of the candle and hearth

cast warring shadows on the wall and floor, and the gun and saber racks twinkled. If the players spoke, it was

"Our bread and butter," said the Captain softly, "are likely to take unto themselves the proverbial wings and

No one replied. The Captain was a man who frequently spoke his thoughts aloud, and required no one to

"A soldier of fortune," he went on, "pins his faith and zeal to standards which today rise and tomorrow fall.

"The king can no longer speak. That is why the archbishop has dismissed the cabinet. While he could speak,

his Majesty refused to listen to the downfall of his enemies. Why? Look to heaven; heaven only can answer.

How many men of the native troops are quartered in these buildings? Not onewhich is bad. Formerly they

were in the majority. Extraordinary. His Majesty would have made friends with them, but the archbishop, an

estimable man in his robes, practically ostracized them. Bad, very bad. Had we been comrades, there might

"Faugh! if one of us sticks his head into the city barracks a breath of ice is our reward. Kronau never attends

the receptions. A little flattery, which costs nothing, and they would have been willing to die for his Majesty.

Now" He knocked his pipe on the firedog. "Now, they would not lift a finger. A soldier will forgive all

"As for me, when the time comes I shall return to Dresden and die of old age. Maybe, though, I shan't. When

his Majesty dies there is like to be a clash. The duchess is a clever woman, but she would make a balky wife;

a capillary affection which runs in the family. Red hair in a man is useful; in a woman it is unmanageable."

He refilled his pipe and motioned toward the tongs. The soldier nearest caught up a brand and held it out. The

Captain laid his pipe against it and drew. "It's a dreary watch I have from ten till daylight, in his Majesty's

antechamber, but he will trust no other man at that post." And with this he fell into silence.

Some time passed. Twice the Captain pulled out his watch and looked at it. Shortly after nine o'clock the beat

of hoofs came up the driveway, and the Captain turned his head toward the entrance and waited. A moment

later the door opened and three men stood framed in the doorway. Two of themone in civilian

dresswere endeavoring to hold up a third between them. The central figure presented an alarming picture.

His cuirass and white trousers were splashed with blood, and his head rolled from side to side, almost

"A thousand devils!" exclaimed the Captain at the sight of this unexpected tableau. He sprang up, toppling

"A brush on the lake road," interrupted Sharfenstein, breathlessly. "Help him over to a chair, Monsieur

The Captain whipped out his knife, locked it, and gave it to Maurice. "Riemer," he called to one of the

cuirassiers, who were rising from the mess table, "bring out your box of instruments; and you, Scharfenstein,

Maurice knelt and deftly cut away the Lieutenant's boot. A pool of blood collected on the floor.

"God save us!" cried the Captain, "his boot is full of blood." He turned to Scharfenstein, who was

"They all got away," adding an oath under his breath. Max set the basin on the floor.

"Humph!" The Captain called his men around him. "Two of you. But wait. Who's back of Kopf?"

"Our distinguished Colonel," snapped Max, "who was this day relieved of his straps. A case of revenge,

"Beauvais! Ah, ah!" The Captain smiled grimly. He had always hated Beauvais, who had, for no obvious

reason, passed him and grasped the coveted colonelcy, and because, curiously enough, the native troops had

made an idol of him. "Beauvais? I am not surprised. An adventurer, with neither kith nor country."

"He is Prince Walmoden," said Maurice, "and for some reason not known, the emperor has promised to recall

This information caused the Captain to step back, and he muttered the name several times. "Austria. . . ." A

gloom settled on his face. "No matter. Prince or no prince, or had he one thousand emperors behind him, no

matter. Four of you seek him and arrest him. If he offers resistance, knock him on the head, but arrest him. A

"Four of you seek for Kopf. Look into Stuler's, in at the opera, and follow Kopf's woman home. I'll take it

upon myself to telegraph the frontier to allow no one to cross on the pain of being shot. Pass the word to the

officers in the stables. Hurry away before the archbishop hears of the matter. Away with you, and quietly.

And one of you seek that blockhead of a coachman, who did not know enough to come back here and inform

us. Beauvais, make him a prisoner, you are not to know why. As for Kopf, dead or alivealive will be less

The guardroom was at once emptied, and the cuirassiers turned off toward the stables, where the main body

Riemer, who was both surgeon and soldier, probed the wound in von Miner's leg and extracted the bullet,

which had lodged in the fleshy part of the calf. He applied cold water, lints and bandages. All the while von

"There!" said the surgeon, standing up, "that's better. The loss of blood is the worst part of it." Next he took a

few stitches in the cut on the cheek and threw his cloak over the wounded man's knee. "He'll be all right in a

"O, I'm sound enough," answered von Mitter, opening his eyes. "A little weak in the knees, that's all. I

shouldn't have given in, only Kopf got away when we had him fair and fast. We found his horse wandering

about the Frohngarten, but no sign of Johann. He's got it, though, square in the back."

"I'm sure of it," said Maurice, who leaned over the back of the speaker's chair.

"Pardon me," said Scharfenstein. "Captain, Monsieur Carewe, an American tourist, formerly of the United

States cavalry. And a pretty shot, too, by the book! It would have gone badly with us but for him."

"My thanks," said the Captain, with a jerky nod. "Max, come, give me the whole story."

And Scharfenstein dropped into a chair and recounted in picturesque diction the adventure; how they had

remained by the royal carriage till the nurse, recovering from her faint, had rushed out and told them of the

abduction; and the long race on the south shore. While he listened the Captain smoked thoughtfully; and

"Call it revenge," he said, "if it strikes you in that light. Monsieur Carewe, what is your opinion?"

"It occurs to me," answered Maurice, rubbing the scratch the late Colonel's sword had left on his chin, "it

"Well, I do not call it revenge," Maurice admitted, unwilling to venture any theory.

"No more do I;" and the Captain began drumming on the mantel. "What say, Max; how would the illustrious

Colonel look with the shadow of a crown on his head? He comes from Austria, who, to my thinking, is

The answer was not spoken. The door, leading to the main palace through the kitchens, opened, and the

Marshal, the princess, and the maid of honor came down the steps. The Captain, Max and the surgeon stood

at salute. Maurice, however, drew back into the shadows at the side of the grate. The old soldier gazed down

"Even the best of soldiers make mistakes," he said; "even the best. No," as von Mitter made an attempt to

speak. "I've heard all about it, and from a most reliable source," nodding toward the anxious maid of honor.

"Colonel," he addressed the Captain, whose eyes started at this appellation, "Colonel, you will report to me in

the morning to assume your new duties. You have been a faithful Captain and a good soldier. I know your

value, your name and your antecedents, which till now was more than I knew of your late predecessor. Von

Mitter will take upon himself your duties as Captain of the household troop; and you, Scharfenstein, will

hereafter take charge of her Royal Highness's carriage, and you may choose whom you will as your

"I have always tried to do my duty," said von Mitter. He felt a small hand secretly press his.

"And you have always succeeded, Captain," said a voice which made Maurice's foolish heart leap. "See, I am

"God bless your Royal Highness!" murmured the fellow, at once racked with pain and happiness. "But I am

The Marshal peered at the silent figure beyond the fireplace. Maurice was compelled to stand forth. "Ah!"

"Yes," went on von Mitter, "but for him no one knows what the end might have been. And I, thinking him

The princess took a step forward, anxiety widening her dark eyes; and the swift glance added to the fever in

the recipient's veins. . . . How beautiful she was, and how far away! He laid his hand on the top of von

"Monsieur Carewe," said the Marshal, "seems to have plenty of leisure time on his handsfortunately for us.

"O, no," said Maurice, blushing. He had discerned an undercurrent of raillery in the Marshal's tones. "The

ball came close to my ear, that was all. It is strange how that fellow got away. I am positive that I hit him."

"We shall find him," said the Marshal, with a look at the newly appointed Colonel which said: "Your straps

hang in the balance." He rubbed his nose. "Well, is your Royal Highness satisfied that there is no danger?"

"Yes, Marshal; but think, if he should have been killed! Ah, what does it all mean? What had this man against

"We shall, with your Highness's permission," said the Marshal, "leave all questions to the future. Let us

return to the archbishop, who is doubtless awaiting the news. Take good care of yourself, Captain.

Tomorrow, Colonel; good evening to you, Monsieur Carewe;" and the terse old soldier proceeded to the

"Good night, Messieurs," said her Highness. "I shall not forget. Thanks to you, Captain." One more glance,

The Marshal, having closed the door behind the women, returned to the group before the fireplace. They

"Colonel," he said, "make no effort to seek Beauvais. As for Kopf, that is different. But Beauvais"

"Aye, to let him go. We do not seek bears with birdshot, and that is all we have. He will leave the country."

"So much the better; when the time comes, our case against him will be so much the stronger. Mind you, this

is not from sentiment. I have none," glaring around to see if any dared refute this assertion. "It is policy, and

"Let him go; that is my order. The servant will be sufficient for our needs. Monsieur Carewe, I rely on your

The men looked at each other in silence. A moment later the Colonel dashed from the room, off to the stables.

"Well, I'm off," said Maurice. The desire to tell what he knew was beginning to master him. It was too late

now, he saw that. Besides, they might take it into their heads to detain him. He put on his hat. "Good night;

"Till tomorrow," said von Mitter, who had taken a fancy to the smoothfaced young American, who seemed

"I am going away tomorrow," said Maurice, pressing the Lieutenant's hand. "I shall return in a day or so."

He led his horse to the hotel stables, lit a fresh cigar and promenaded the terrace. "Some day," he mused,

"perhaps I'll be able to do something for myself. Tomorrow we'll take a look at Fitzgerald's affairs, like the

good fairy we are. If the Colonel is there, so much the worse for one or the other of us." He laughed

contentedly. "Beauvais took my warning and lit out, or his henchman would never have made a botch of the

abduction. It is my opinion that Madame wanted a hostage, for it is impossible to conceive that the man made

the attempt on his own responsibility. I shall return to the duchy in a semiofficial character as an envoy

extraordinary to look into the whereabouts of one Lord Fitzgerald. Devil take me, but I did make a mess of it

when I slapped him on the shoulder that night." The princess had not addressed a word to him. Why?

When the princess and her maid of honor had passed through the kitchens into the princess's boudoir, the

maid suddenly caught her mistress's hand and imprinted a hasty kiss on it, to the latter's surprise and

agitation. There was something in that kiss which came nearer to sincere affection than Mademoiselle

"God bless your Highness!" whispered the girl, again pressing the cold hand to her lips. What had given rise

to this newborn affection she herself could not say, but a sudden wave of pity rushed into her heart. Perhaps

it was because she loved and was loved that caused this expansion of heart toward her mistress, who was

likely never to love or beget love, who stood so lonely. Tears came into her eyes.

"No; it is becausebecause" She stopped and a blush suffused her face and temples.

The princess took the face between her hands and gazed long and earnestly into it. "Have you discovered a

belated pity in your heart for me? Or is it because you thought him wounded unto death, and he was not?"

The princess put her arms around the maid. "And you weep for happiness? Let us weep together, then;

To return to the flight of Kopf. As he dashed down the road he heard two reports. At the second he

experienced a terrible burning blow under the right shoulderblade, and immediately his arm became

paralyzed. He coughed. With a supreme effort he managed to recover his balance. Already his collarbone

"God's curse on them all!" he sobbed, pushing his knees into his horse; "God's curse!" He bit his lips; and

when he drew his breath the pain which followed almost robbed him of his senses. Behind him the sound of

hoofs came no nearer; he had a chance. He could not look back to see if he gained, however, as his neck was

"Curse him and his damned gold! He never warned me as he said he would." On he rode. The moon became

obscured, and when it flashed again he could see it but indistinctly. . . . To reach the city, to reach Gertrude's,

to give the horse a cut and send him adrift, this was his endeavor. But would he reach the city alive? Was

he dying? He could not see . . . Yet again he shut his jaws and drew on his entire strength. He was keeping in

the saddle by will power alone. If the horse faltered he was lost. To Gertrude; she could use them. And after

The first of the city lamps. He sobbed. Into this street he turned, into that, expecting each moment to be

challenged, for the white saddle blanket of the cuirassiers stood out conspicuously. At last he had but a corner

to turn. He stopped, slid from the saddle and gave the animal a cut across the face. The horse reared, then

plunged forward at a wild gallop. Johann staggered along the street, fumbling in his pockets for his keys.

Gertrude of the opera company was usually in the ballet. To night she had left the stage after the first dance.

She had complained of a severe headache, and as the manager knew her worth he had permitted her

withdrawal from the corps. She lived off the Frohngarten, in an apartment on the second floor, over a cheap

restaurant. She was bathing her temples in perfumed ammonia water, when she heard footsteps in the

corridor, and later the rasp of a key in the lock. As the door opened she beheld a spectacle which caused her

"Hush! Gertrude, I am dying. . . . Brandy! I must talk to you! Silence!" Johann tottered to a lounge and

The woman, still trembling with fright and terror, poured into her palm some of the pungent liquid with

which she had been bathing her temples, and held it under his nose. It revived him. And in a few broken

"Gertrude, I am lost!" He breathed with difficulty. "I have lived like a rascal, and I die like one. But I have

always loved you; I have always been true to you; I have never beaten nor robbed you." His eyes closed.

"O God," she cried, "what shall I do? Johann, you must not die! We will leave the country together. Johann,

you do not speak! Johann!" She kissed him, pressed him in her arms, regardless of the stains which these

She left him and rushed to the sideboard, poured out a tumbler of brandy, and returned to his side. She raised

"In the lungs," he said. "God! how it burns! Rich; we are rich, Gertrude; a hundred thousand crowns. . . . And

I am dying! . . . What a failure! Curse them all; they never offered to lend a hand unless it led toward hell!

Gertrude . . . I must tell you. Here; here, put your hand in this pocket; yes. Draw them out. . . A hundred

"Hide them!" And Johann fainted away for the second time. When he came to his senses, several minutes had

And her one idea was to save him. She drenched her handkerchief with the ammonia, and bade him hold it to

his nose, while she fetched a basin of water and a sponge. Tenderly she drew back his coat and washed the

"Listen!" he cried suddenly, rising on his elbow. "It is they! They have found me! Quick! to the roof!" He

struggled to his feet, with that strength which imparts itself to dying men, superhuman while it lasts. He

And thus they gained the hall, mounted the flight to the roof, he groaning and urging, she sobbing, hysterical,

and frenzied. She climbed the ladder with him, threw back the trap, and helped him on the roof.

She gave him her lips, and went down to her rooms, and waited and waited. This agony of suspense lasted a

quarter of an hour, when again came the clatter of hoofs. Would this, too, prove a false alarm? She held her

hand to her ear. If he were dying. . . They had stopped; they were mounting the stairs; O God, they were

She gasped, but words would not come. She clenched her hands until the nails sank into the flesh.

The actress in her came to the rescue. The calm of despair took possession of her.

"In a moment, Messieurs," she said. Her voice was without agitation. She opened the door and the cuirassiers

"We want Johann Kopf," was the answer, "and we have it from good authority that he is here. Do not

"He is not here," she replied. She wondered at herself, her tones were so even, her mind was so clear.

One of the cuirassiers caught up her gown. "What's this, Madame?" he demanded, pointing to the dark wet

stains; "and this?" to her hands, "and this?" to the spots on the carpet, the basin and the sponge. "To the roof,

The ballet dancer held forth her hands in supplication; life forsook her limbs; she sank.

The cuirassiers rushed to the roof. . . . When they came down it was slowly and carefully. What they had

found on the roof was of no use to them. They laid the inanimate thing on the lounge, and frowned. One of

the cuirassiers lifted the ballet dancer and carried her into her bedroom, and laid her on the bed. He had not

the heart to revive her. Death softens all angers; even an enemy is no longer such when dead. And Johann

At eight o'clock of the following evening, that is to say, the nineteenth of September, Maurice mounted the

Thalian pass and left the kingdom in the valley behind him. He was weary, dusty, lame and out of humor;

besides, he had a new weight on his conscience. The night before he had taken the life of a man. True, this

had happened before, but always in warfare. He had killed in a moment of rage and chagrin a poor devil who

was at most only a puppet. There was small credit in the performance. However, the rascal would have

In the long ride he had made up his mind to lock away forever the silly dream, the tender, futile, silly dream.

All men die with secrets locked in their hearts; thus he, too, would die. His fancy leaped across the chasm of

intervening years to the day of his death, and the thought was a happy one! He smiled sadly, as young men

smile when they pity themselves. He knew that he would never get over itin a day. But tomorrow, or to

He took the pass's decline; the duchy spread away toward the south. A quarter of a mile below him he saw the

barrack and the customs office which belonged to Madame the duchess. The corporal inspected him and his

"It is all right, Monsieur Carewe," said the corporal; "I ought to recognize the horse a mile away. You will

"Ah, true. Her Highness gives a grand ball at the chateau to night. The court has arrived from Brunnstadt.

Some will reside at the chateau, some at General Duckwitz's, others at the Countess Herzberg's."

"She will arrive this evening," answered the corporal, grinning. "A pleasant journey to you."

Maurice proceeded. "And that blockhead of an Englishman has not tumbled yet! The court here? A grand

ball? What else can it mean but that Madame is celebrating a victory to come? If the archbishop has those

consols, she will wage war; and this is the prelude." He jogged along. He had accomplished a third of the

remaining distance, when he was challenged. The sentry came forward and scrutinized the rider.

"O, it is Monsieur Carewe !" he cried in delighted tones. He touched his cap and fell back into the shadows.

A mile farther, and the great chateau, scintillating with lights, loomed up against the yellow sky. He felt a

thrill of excitement. Doubtless there would be some bright passages before the night drew to a close. He

would make furious love to the pretty countess; it would be something in the way of relaxation. How would

they greet him? What would be Madame's future plans in regard to Fitzgerald? How would she get him out of

"The future promises much," he said, half aloud. "I am really glad that I came back."

"Hang me," grumbled Maurice as he went on, "these fellows have remarkable memories. I can't recollect any

Shortly he came upon the patrol. The leader ordered him to dismount, an order be obeyed willingly, for he

"Why, it is Monsieur Carewe!" he cried. "Good! We are coming out to meet you. This is a pleasure indeed."

Maurice gazed keenly into the speaker's face, and to his surprise beheld the baron whose arm he had broken a

"I am glad you deem it a pleasure, baron," he said dryly. "From what you imply, I should judge that you were

"Nothing less! Your departure from Bleiberg was known to us as early as two o'clock this afternoon,"

answered the baron. "Permit us to escort you to the chateau before the ladies see you. 'Tis a gala night; we are

all in our best bib and tucker, as the English say. We believed at one time that you were not going to honor us

with a second visit. Now to dress, both of us; at ten Madame the duchess arrives with General Duckwitz and

Colonel Mollendorf, who is no relation to the late minister of police in Bleiberg."

"Later, later!" cried the baron. "The gates are but a dozen rods away. To your room first; the rest will follow."

"We shall arrange that. Your guardhussar uniform has been reserved for you, at the suggestion of the

Maurice found it impossible to draw back; three troopers blocked the rear, the baron and another rode at his

sides, and four more were in advance. The rear gates swung open, and the little troop passed into the chateau

confines. Maurice snatched a glimpse of the front lawns and terraces. The trees and walls were hung with

Chinese lanterns; gay uniforms and shimmering gowns flitted across his vision. Somewhere within the

chateau an orchestra was playing the overture from "Linda di Chamounix." Indeed, with all these brave

officers, old men in black bedecked with ribbons, handsome women in a brilliant sparkle of jewels, it had the

semblance of a gay court. It was altogether a different scene from that which was called the court of Bleiberg.

There was no restraint here; all was laughter, music, dancing, and wines. The women were young, the men

were young; old age stood at one side and looked on. And the charming Voitureverse of a countess, Maurice

was determined to seek her first of all. He vaguely wondered how Fitzgerald would carry himself throughout

The baron laughed. "You will have to take luck with me in the stablebarrack; the chateau is filled. The

At the entrance to the guardroom, which occupied the left wing of the stables, stood a Lieutenant of the

"This is Monsieur Carewe," said the baron, "who will occupy a corner in the guardroom."

Maurice entered, but not without suspicion. However, he was in a hurry to mingle with the gay assembly in

the chateau. But that body was doomed to proceed without the honor or the knowledge of his distinguished

presence. Several troopers were lounging about. At the sight of the baron they rose.

Maurice gazed toward the door. As he did so four pairs of arms enveloped him, and before he could offer the

slightest resistance, he was bound hand and foot, a scarf was tied over his mouth, and he was pushed most

disrespectfully into a chair. The baron's mouth was twisted out of shape, and the troopers were smiling.

"My faith! but this is the drollest affair I ever was in;" and the baron sat on the edge of the table and held his

sides. "Monsieur Carewe! Ha! ha! You are a little too stiff to dance, eh? Shall I tender your excuses to the

ladies? Ass! did you dream for a moment that such canaille as you, might show your countenance to any save

the scullery maids? Too stiff to dance! Ye gods, but that was rich! And you had the audacity to return here! I

must go; the thing is killing me." He slipped off the table, red in the face and choking. "The telegraph has its

uses; it came ahead of you. We trembled for fear you would not come! Men, guard him as your lives, while I

He stepped to the door, turned, looking into the prisoner's glaring eyes; he doubled up again. "We are quits; I

forgive you the broken arm; this laugh will repay me. How Madame the countess will laugh! And

Duckwitzthe General will die of apoplexy! O, but you are a sorry ass; and how neatly we have clipped

your ears!" And into the corridor he went, still laughing, heartily and joyously, as if what had taken place was

Maurice, white and furious, was positive that he never would laugh again. And the most painful thought was

Fitzgerald stood alone in the library. The music of a Strauss waltz came indistinctly to him. He was troubled,

and the speech of it lay in his eyes. From time to time he drummed on the window sill, and followed with his

gaze the shadowy forms on the lawns. He was not a part of this fairy scene. He was out of place. So many

young and beautiful women eyeing him curiously confused him. In every glance he innocently read his

At Madame's request he had dressed himself in the uniform of a LieutenantColonel, which showed how

deeply he was in the toils. Though it emphasized the elegant proportions of his figure, it sat uncomfortably

upon him. His vanity was not equal to his sense of guilt. The uniform was a livery of dishonor. He could not

distort it into a virtue, try as he would. He lacked that cunning artifice which a man of the world possesses,

And Carewe, on whose honesty he would have staked his life, Carewe had betrayed him. Why, he could not

conceive. He saw how frail his house of love was. A breath and it was gone. What he had until today

deemed special favors were favors common to all these military dandies. They, too, could kiss Madame's

hand, and he could do no more. And yet she held him. Did she love him? He could not tell. All he knew was

that it was impossible not to love her. And tonight he witnessed the culmination of the woman beautiful, and

it dazzled him, filled him with fears and oppressions. . . . To bind her hand and foot, to carry her by force to

If she were playing with him, making a ball of his heart and her fancy a cup, she knew not of the slumbering

lion within. He himself was but dimly conscious of it. Princess? That did not matter. Since that morning the

veil had fallen from his eyes, but he had said nothing; he was waiting for her to speak. Would she laugh at

him? No, no! The knowledge that had come to him had transformed wax into iron. Princess? She was the

Only two candles burned on the mantelpiece. The library was a room apart from the festivities. A soft,

rosecolored darkness pervaded the room. Presently a darker shadow tiptoed over the threshold. He turned,

and the shadow approached. Madame's gray eyes, full of lambent fires, looked into his own.

"I was seeking you," she said. The jewels in her hair threw a kind of halo above her head.

"No, Madame; my conscience is, unhappily, too green." He turned to the window again for fear he would

"I have a confession to make to you," she said humbly. How broad his shoulders were, was her thought.

"There is only one confession which I care to hear. You made it once, though you are not willing to repeat it.

But I have your word, Sylvia; I am content. Not all the world could make me believe that you would

Her name, for the first time coming from his lips, caused her to start. She sent him a penetrating glance, but it

"O, that was before the world. But alone, alone as we are, you and I, it is different." The smile which

accompanied these words was frankness itself, but it did not deceive Madame, who read his eyes too well.

"Ali, but the crumbs you give this love of mine are so few!" "You are the only man in the world permitted to

"The , hand you kissed is the hand of the woman; others kiss it to pay homage. Monsieur, 'forgive me for

"I am not Madame simply. I am Stephonia Sylvia Auersperg; the name I assumed was my mother's." His lack

Something in his tone warned her of a crisis, and she put forth her cunning to avert it. "And. youyou will not

love me less?" her voice vibrant as the string of a viol. "I am a princess, but yet a woman. In me there are

two, the woman and the princess. The princess is proud and ambitious; to gain her ends she stops at nothing.

As a princess she may stoop to trickery and deceit, and step back untouched. But the womanah, well; for

"And all this to meis a preamble to my dismissal, since my promise remains unfulfilled? Madame, do not

think that because fate has willed that my promise should become void, that my conscience acquits me of

dishonor. For love of you I have thrown honor to the winds. But do I regret it? No. For I am mad, and being

mad, I am not capable of reason. I have broken all those ties which bind a man's respect to himself. I have

burned all bridges, but I laugh at that. It is only with the knowledge that your love is mine that I can hold high

"As the princess in you is proud, so is the man in me. A princess? That is nothing; I love you. Were you the

empress of all the Russias, the most unapproachable woman in the world, I should not hesitate to profess my

love, to find some means of declaring it to you. I love you. To what further depths can I fall to prove it?"

Again he sought the window, and leaned heavily on the sill. He waited, as a man waits for an expected blow.

As she listened a delicious sensation swept through her heart, a sensation elusive and intangible. She

surrendered without question. At this moment the Eve in her evaded all questions. Here was a man. The

mood which seized her was as novel as this love which asked nothing but love, and the willingness to pay

any price; and the desire to test both mood and love to their full strength was irresistible. She was loved for

herself alone; hitherto men had loved the woman less and the princess more. To surrender to both mood and

love, if only for an hour or a day, to see to what length this man would go at a sign from her.

He was almost her equal in birth; his house was nearly if not quite as old and honored as her own; in his

world he stood as high as she stood in hers. She had never committed an indiscretion; passion had never

swayed her; until now she had lived by calculation. As she looked at him, she knew that in all her wide

demesne no soldier could stand before him and look straight into his eyes. So deep and honest a book it was,

so easily readable, that she must turn to its final pages. Love him? No. Be his wife? No. She recognized that it

was the feline instinct to play which dominated her. Consequences? Therein lay the charm of it.

"Patience, Monsieur," she said. "Did I promise to be your wife? Did I say that I loved you? ~Eh, bien~, the

woman, not the princess, made those vows. I am mistress not only of my duchy, but of my heart." She ceased

and regarded him with watchful eves. He did not turn. "Look at me, John!" The voice was of such winning

sweetness that St. Anthony himself, had he heard it, must have turned. "Look at me and see if I am more a

He wheeled swiftly. She was leaning toward him, her face was upturned. No jewel in her hair was half so

lustrous as her eyes. From the threaded ruddy ore of her hair rose a perfume like the fabulous myrrhs of

Olympus. Her lips were a cup of wine, and her eyes bade him drink, and the taste of that wine haunted him as

long as he lived. He made as though to drain the cup, but Madame pushed down his arms, uttered a low,

puzzled laugh, and vanished from the room. He was lost! He knew it; yet he did not care. He threw out his

arms, dropped them, and settled his shoulders. A smile, a warm, contented smile, came into his face and

Midnight; the music had ceased, and the yellow and scarlet lanterns had been plucked from the autumnal

hangings. The laughing, smiling, dancing women, like so many Cinderellas, had disappeared, and with them

the sparkle of jewels; and the gallant officers had ridden away to the jingle of bit and spur. Throughout the

courtly revel all faces had revealed, besides the happiness and lightness of spirit, a suppressed eagerness for

Promptly at midnight Madame herself had dropped the curtains on the gay scene because she had urgent need

of all her military household at dawn, when a picture, far different from that which had just been painted, was

to be limned on the broad canvas of her dreams. Darkness and quiet had fallen on the castle, and the gray

In the guardroom, Maurice, his hands and feet still in pressing cords, dozed in his chair. He had ceased to

combat drowsiness. He was worn out with his long ride, together with the chase of the night before; and since

a trooper had relieved his mouth of the scarf so that he could breathe, he cared not what the future held, if

only he might sleep. It took him a long time to arrive at the angle of comfort; this accomplished, he drifted

into smooth waters. The troopers who constituted his guard played cards at a long table, in the center of

which were stuck half a dozen bayonets, which served as candlesticks. They laughed loudly, thumped the

board, and sometimes sang. No one bothered himself about the prisoner, who might have slept till the crack

Shortly before the new hour struck, the door opened and shut. A trooper shook the sleeper by the sleeve.

Maurice awoke with a start and gazed about, blinking his eyes. Before him he discovered Madame the

duchess, Fitzgerald and Mollendorf, behind whom stood the Voitureverse of a countess. The languor

forsook him and he pulled himself together and sat as upright as his bonds would permit him. Something

Madame made a gesture which the troopers comprehended, and they departed. Fitzgerald, with gloomy eyes,

folded his arms across his breast, and with one hand curled and uncurled the drooping ends of his mustache;

the Colonel frowned and rubbed the gray bristles on his upper lip; the countess twisted and untwisted her

handkerchief; Madame alone evinced no agitation, unless the perpendicular line above her nose could have

been a sign of such. This lengthened and deepened as her glance met the prisoner's.

He eyed them all with an indifference which was tinctured with contempt and amusement.

"A number of things, Madame," he answered, in a tone which bordered the insolent; "only they would not be

The Colonel's hand slid from his lip over his mouth; he shuffled his feet and stared at the bayonets and the

"Carewe," said Fitzgerald, endeavoring to speak calmly, "you have broken your word to me as a gentleman

"The archbishop," said Madame, "assumed the aggressive last night. To be aggressive one must possess

strength. Monsieur, how much did he pay for those consols? Come, tell me; was he liberal? It is evident that

you are not a man of business. I should have been willing to pay as much as a hundred thousand crowns.

Come; acknowledge that you have made a bad stroke." She bent her head to one side, and a derisive smile

"Thank you," said Maurice, "thank you. But why not complete the melodrama by striking, since you have

"Monsieur," interposed the countess, "do not forget that you are a gentleman; Monsieur Carewe's hands are

Madame looked curiously at the countess, while Fitzgerald drew back to the table and rested on it.

"I can not comprehend how you dared return," Madame resumed. "One who watches over my affairs has

The prisoner laughed maliciously. Madame had answered the question as he hoped she would. "Chickens

This time it was not the prisoner's cheeks which reddened. Even Madame was forced to look away, for if this

reply touched the Englishman it certainly touched her as deeply. Incidentally, she was asking herself why she

had permitted the Englishman to possess her lips, hers, which no man save her father had ever possessed

before. A kiss, that was all it had been, yet the memory of it was persistent, annoying, embarrassing. In the

spirit of playa spirit whose origin mystified hershe had given the man something which she never could

Besides, this was not all; she had in that moment given up her right to laugh at him when the time came; now

she would not be able to laugh. She regretted the folly, and bit her lip at the thought of it. Consequences she

had laughed at; now their possibilities disturbed her. She had been guilty of an indiscretion. The fact that the

Englishman had ruined himself at her beck did not enter her mind. The hour for that had not yet arrived.

Seeing that his neat barb had left them all without answer, Maurice said: "Doubtless the informant who

watches over your interests and various other interests of which you have no inkling, was the late Colonel

Beauvais? For my part, I wish it was the late Beauvais in the sense in which we refer to the departed ones.

But let us give him his true namePrince Konrad, the last of the Walmodens, a cashiered gamester."

Only Fitzgerald showed any surprise. Maurice once saw that the others were in the secret. They knew the

Colonel. Did they know why he was in Bleiberg? Let them find it out for themselves. He would not lift a

"Pardon me," he said, with mock politeness, "but my hands are tied, and the truth is, I am sleepy."

"Count," said Madame, "release him. He will be too well guarded to fear his escaping."

The Colonel performed this service with alacrity. He honestly admired the young fellow who so seldom lost

his temper. Besides, he had a sneaking idea that the lad was being unjustly accused.

Maurice got up and stretched himself. He rubbed his wrists, then sat down and waited for the comedy to

"You deny, then?" Madame was fast losing patience, a grave mistake when one is dealing with a banterer.

"Monsieur," said the pretty countess, after a furtive glance at Madame's stormy eyes, "do you deny?"

The whistle ceased. "Madame, to you I shall say that I neither deny nor affirm. The affair is altogether too

ridiculous to treat seriously. I have nothing to say." The whistle picked up the thread again.

Doubt began to stir in the eyes of the Englishman. He looked at Madame with a kind of indecision, to find

that she was glancing covertly at him. His gaze finally rested on Maurice, who had crossed his legs and was

keeping time to the music with his foot. Indeed, these were not the violent protestations of innocence he had

looked for. This demeanor was not at all in accord with his expectations. Now that he had possessed

Madame's lips (though she might never possess the consols), Maurice did not appear so guilty.

"You knew that Madame was her Highness," went on the Englishman, "and yet you kept that a secret from

"Eh! Monsieur," cried the Colonel, with a protesting hand, "you are out of tune!"

"I should like to know why you returned here," said Madame. "Either you have some plan, or your audacity

The whistle stopped again. "Madame, for once we agree. I, too, should like to know why I returned here."

"Will you give me your word?" persisted Fitzgerald, refusing to see the warning in Madame's eyes.

"I will give you nothing, my lord; nothing. I have said that I will answer neither one way nor the other. The

accusation is too absurd. Now, Madame, what is your pleasure in regard to my disposition?"

"You are to be locked up, Monsieur," tartly. "You are too inquisitive to remain at large."

"Pardon me if I contradict your Highness. I returned here incidentally as a representative of the British

ambassador in Vienna; I volunteered this office at the request of my own minister."

"If nothing is heard of me within two days, an investigation will ensue. It is very droll, but I am here to

inquire into the whereabouts of one Lord Fitzgerald, who has disappeared. Telegrams to the four ends of the

world have brought no news of his present residence. The archbishop instituted the latter inquiries, because it

"I came as a private gentleman; a telegram to my minister in Vienna will bring indorsement."

"Ah! Then you shall be locked up. I can not accord you recognition; without the essential representations, I

see nothing in you but an impertinent meddler. Tomorrow evening you shall be conveyed to Brunnstadt,

where you will reside for some time, I can assure you. Perhaps on your head will rest the blood of many

gallant gentlemen; for within another twentyfour hours I shall declare war against Leopold. This will be the

consequence of your disloyalty to your word." And she moved toward the door, the others imitating her.

And one by one they vanished. Once the countess turned and threw Maurice a glance which mystifled him; it

was half curtained with tears. Presently he was alone. His eye grasped every object. There was not a weapon

in sight; only the bayonets on the table, and he could scarcely hope to escape by use of one of these. A carafe

of water stood on the table. He went to it and half emptied it. His back was toward the door. Suddenly it

opened. He wheeled, expecting to see the troopers. His surprise was great. Beauvais was leaning against the

Maurice remained silent, and continued to gaze at his enemy over the tops of the upturned bayonets.

"I killed a puppet of yours last night," replied Maurice, with a peculiar grimness.

"Eh? So it was you? However, Kopf knew too much; he is dead, thanks to your service. After all, it was a

stroke of war; the princess, whose little rose you have, was to have been a hostage."

"You do, certainly; but you are at a convenient nearness. What you know will be of no use to you. Let us sit

Beauvais passed over this. "You are a very good blade; you handle a sword well. That is a compliment,

considering that I am held as the first blade in the kingdom. It was only today I learned that formerly you

"You are also a soldier of fortunelike myself. You made a good stroke with the archbishop. You

"You have something to say; come to it at once, for it is trying to watch you so closely."

I will give you" He hesitated and scratched his chin. "I will give you ten thousand crowns as the price of

A sardonic laugh greeted this proposal. "I did not know that you were so cheap. But it is too late."

"Doubtless, since by this time the authorities are in possession of the interesting facts."

"Do as you please," said Maurice, triumphantly. "I sent an account of your former exploits both to my own

government and to the one which you so treacherously betrayed. One or the other will not fail to reach."

"I am perfectly well aware of that," Beauvais smiled. He reached into a pocket, and for a moment Maurice

expected to see a pistol come forth. But he was needlessly alarmed. Beauvais extracted two envelopes from

the pocket and sailed them through the intervening space. They fell on the table. "Put not your trust in hotel

clerks," was the sententious observation. "At least, till you have discovered that no one else employs them. I

am well served. The clerk was told to intercept your outgoing post; and there is the evidence. Ten thousand

Maurice picked up the letters mechanically. They were his; the stamps were not canceled, but the flaps were

slit. He turned them this way and that, bewildered. He was convinced that he could in no way cope with this

man of curious industries, this man who seemed to have a key for every lock, and whom nothing escaped.

And the wise old Marshal had permitted him to leave the kingdom without let or hindrance. Perhaps the

Marshal understood that Beauvais was a sort of powder train, and that the farther he was away from the mine

"We will waive that point. The matter at present is, how much will it take to buy your silence for the future?"

"And I am sorry I did not kill you when I had the chance," continued Maurice, as if following a train of

"We never realize how great the opportunity is till it has passed beyond our reach. Well, how much?"

"To be sure; I forgot. But the archbishop could not have given you a competence for life."

"I choked a few facts out of Kopf," said Maurice. "You will wear no crownthat is, earthly."

"Well, then, if anything happens to you, you will have only yourself to blame. I will leave you to digest that

suggestion. Your life hangs in the balance. I will give you till tomorrow morning to make up your mind."

"In that, I shall offer you the precedence." And Beauvais backed out; backed out because Maurice had

Maurice flung the bayonet across the room, went back to his chair, and tore his illfated letters into ribbons.

When this was done he stared moodily at the impromptu candlesticks, and tried to conceive the manner in

When the troops returned to their watch, they found the prisoner in a recumbent position, staring at the cracks

in the floor, oblivious to all else save his thoughts, which were by no means charitable or humane. They

resumed their game of cards. At length Maurice fell into a light slumber. The next time he opened his eyes it

was because of a peculiar jar, which continued; a familiar, monotonous jar, such as the tread of feet on the

earth creates. Tramp, tramp, tramp; it was a large body of men on the march. Soon this was followed by a

lighter and noisier sound cavalry. Finally, there came the rumbling of heavy metalartillery. More than

The next morning Beauvais came for his answer. It was not the answer he had expected.

"So be it," he replied. "Your government had better appoint your successor at once. Good morning."

It was a dreary long day for the prisoner, who saw no one but his jailers. He wondered what time they would

start for Brunnstadt. He had never seen Brunnstadt. He hoped the city would interest him. Was he to be

disposed of on the road? No, that would scarcely be; there were too many witnesses. In the city prison, then;

that was possible. The outlook was not rose colored. He set to work to challenge each of his jailers, but this

did not serve. At five o'clock the bluff old Colonel Mollendorf came in. He dismissed the troopers, who were

"I'll be responsible for the prisoner from now on," he said. As soon as he and Maurice were alone he propped

his chin and contemplated the sullen face of the prisoner. "Well, my son, I am positive that you have been

accused somewhat hastily, but that's the way women have, jumping at conclusions before they read the

preface. But you must give Madame credit for being honest in the matter, as well as the others. Beauvais is

positive that the move of the archbishop is due to your selling out to him. Come, tell me the story. If you

wish, I'll promise not to repeat it. Madame is determined to lock you up in any event."

"There was nothing in the gunbarrels," he said. "Some one had entered that room before me. I thought at

first that Beauvais had them; but he is the last man in the world to dispose of them to the prelate. But has the

"There is little going on in Bleiberg that we don't hear about. The princess is charming. Poor girl!"

"Madame's victory will have a strange odor. Can she not let the king die in peace?"

"My son, she dares not. If that throne were vacant of a king Let us not talk politics."

"You are the only man who has ever crossed Madame's path; she can not forget it."

"And she has put me in a bad light, as far as Fitzgerald is concerned. A man will believe anything a woman

"Yourself; you are interesting, entertaining, and instructive," the Colonel answered, laughing. "I never ran

across an American who wasn't, and I have met a number. What have you done to Beauvais?"

"He has no match hereabout." The Colonel looked across the table at the smoothfaced boy he was

"The army in America doesn't run to good clothes; the officers have to work harder than the privates, and,

save in Washington, their social status is nil. Besides, there is too much fighting going on all the time. Here,

"Still, we are always ready. In the past we show up pretty well in history. But to return to Beauvais, it is very

"Beauvais has promised to push me off the board, to use his own words. I am wondering how he will do it."

"Don't let that disturb you; he will do nothingnow. Well, well; it is all a sorry game; and I find that making

history has its disadvantages. But I have dandled Madame as a child on my knee, and her wish is law;

wherever her fortunes lead, I must follow. She will win; she can not help winning. But I pity that poor devil

of a king, who, they say, is now bereft of speech. Ah, had he been a man, I could have gone into this heart

"He is on his deathbed. And his daughter, God knows what is in store for her. Prince Frederick is dallying

with his peasant girl. The day for the wedding has come and gone, unless he turned up today, which is not

"Which is not likely indeed," repeated the Colonel sadly. He pulled out his pipe, and smoked for a time. "But

let us not judge harshly, says the Book. There may be circumstances over which Prince Frederick has no

control. I suppose your sympathies are on the other side of the path. Youth is always quick and generous; it

never stops to weigh causes or to reason why. And strange, its judgment is almost always unerring. I am

"You will not see much of it; so I will not take the trouble to tell you that it is slightly inferior to Bleiberg."

Sure enough, when the dark of evening fell, two servants entered with trays and baskets, and proceeded to lay

"Remember, Colonel, I've been a soldier and a journalist in a country where they only wash with water. In the

summer we have whisky iced, in the winter we have it hot; an antidote for both heat and cold. Ah, Colonel, if

"A dozen bottles, then," said the Colonel to the servants, who retired to execute the order.

"Twice your age, my son. But do not make any miscalculation about my capacity for tokayer."

"Yes; if you plan to get me drunk. There are no troopers about, and it would be easy enough for you to slip

Maurice's laugh had a false ring to it. The Colonel had made a very shrewd guess.

They sat down, and both made an excellent dinner. Maurice demolished a roasted pheasant, stuffed with

chestnuts, while the Colonel disintegrated a duck. The wine came, and the servants ranged six bottles on the

side of each plate. It was done so gravely that Maurice laughed heartily. The wine was the oldest in

Madame's cellar, and Maurice wondered at the Colonel's temerity in selecting it. The bottles were of thick

glass, fat bottomed, and ungainly, and Maurice figured that there was more than a pint in each. It possessed

a delicious bouquet. The Colonel emptied three bottles, with no more effect than if the wine had been water.

Maurice did not appreciate this feat until he had himself emptied a bottle. It was then he saw that the boot

He looked at the Colonel enviously; the old soldier was a gulf. He had miscalculated, indeed. But he was

fertile in plans, and a more reasonable one occurred to him. He drank another bottle and began to talk

verbosely. Later he grew confidential. He told the Colonel a great many things which had never happened,

things impossible and improbable. The Colonel listened soberly, and nodded now and again. Dinner past,

they pushed the remains aside and began to play poker, a game at which the Colonel proved to be no novice,

"I generally spend a month of the winter in Vienna. One of your compatriots taught me the interesting game."

"O, they play checkers in the New England states," said Maurice, hiccoughing slightly. "But out west and in

"Poker is a great preliminary study to diplomacy," said the Colonel, as he scrutinized his hand. "You raise

"Yes. One card. Diplomacy? So it is. I played a game with the Chinese ambassador in Washington one night.

I was teaching him how to play. I lost all the ready money I had with me. Next day I found out that he was

And the game went on. Presently Maurice threw aside his coat. He was feeling the warmth of the wine, but he

"Is there any truth," said the Colonel, "about your shooting a man who is found cheating in your country?"

"There is, if you can draw quicker than he." Maurice glanced at his hand and threw it down.

"So was I," said the Colonel, sweeping the board. "It's your deal." He unbottoned his coat.

Maurice felt a shiver of delight. Sticking out of the Colonel's belt was the ebony handle of a cavalry revolver,

and he made up his mind to get it. There were no troopers aroundthe Colonel had admitted as much. He

began talking rapidly, sometimes incoherently. In a corner of the room he saw the cords which had been

"Poker," said the Colonel, "depends mostly on what you Americans call bluff. A bluff, as I understand it, is

making the others think you have them when you haven't, or you haven't got them when you have. In one

case you scare them, in the other you fish. You're getting flushed, my son; you'll have a headache tonight;

An hour! There was fever in Maurice's veins, but it was not caused wholly by the heat of the wine. How

"Three kingsno, by George! only a pair. I thought a queen was a king. My head's beginning to get shaky.

Maurice got up and rolled in an extraordinary fashion, but he was careful not to overdo it. He began to sing.

The Colonel got up, too, and he was laughing. Maurice accidentally knocked over some empty bottles; he

Maurice staggered toward him, and the Colonel caught him in his arms. Maurice suddenly drew back, and the

Colonel found himself looking into the cavernous tube of his own revolver. Not a muscle in his face moved.

"No. It was one of those bluffs when you make them think you haven't them when you have."

The Colonel picked them up, sat down and gravely tied one around his ankles. Maurice watched him

"Now," the Colonel inquired calmly, "how are you going to tie my hands? Can you hold the revolver in one

"My son," said the Colonel, "you are clever. In fact, you are one of those fellows who grow to be great. You

never miss an opportunity, and more often than not you invent opportunities, which is better still. The truth is,

you have proceeded exactly on the lines I thought you would; and thereby you have saved me the trouble of

lying or having it out with Madame. I am a victim, not an accomplice; I was forced at the point of a revolver;

I had nothing to say. If I had really been careless you would have accomplished the feat just the same. For it

was easily accomplished you will admit. 'Tis true I knew you were acting because I expected you to act. All

Certainly Maurice's countenance expressed nothing less than perplexity. He stepped back a few paces.

"You have," continued the Colonel, "perhaps threequarters of an hour. You will be able to get out of here.

"The countess?" Maurice cried eagerly, remembering the look of the night before and the tears which were in

"I will not mention any names. Suffice it to say that it was due to her pleading that I consented to play

First Maurice clasped the hand and wrung it. "Colonel, I do not want you to get into trouble on my

"Go along with you! If you were really important," in half a banter, "it would be altogether a different matter.

As it is, you are more in the way than anything else, only Madame does not see it in that light. Come, at my

wrists, and take your handkerchief and tie it over my mouth; make a complete job of it while you're at it."

"By the book, the boy is quite willing to sit down and play poker with me till the escort comes! Don't trouble

yourself about me; Madame has too much need of me to give me more than a slight rating. Hurry and be off,

and remember that Beauvais has promised to push you off the board. Take the near path for the woods and

"Humph! Keep to the right of the pass. Now, quick, before my conscience speaks above a whisper."

Maurice needed no further urging, and soon he had the Colonel securely bound and silenced. Next he put on

"Au revoir!" said Maurice, as he made for the door. "Vergis mein nicht!" and he was gone.

He crept down the stairs, cautiously entered the court, it was deserted. The moon was up and shining. The

gate was locked, but he climbed it without mishap. Not a sentry was in sight. He followed the path, and

swung off into the forest. He was free. Here he took a breathing spell. When he started onward he held the

revolver ready. Woe to the sentry who blundered on him! For he was determined to cross the frontier if there

was a breath of life in him. Moreover, he must be in Bleiberg within twenty hours.

He was positive that Madame the duchess intended to steal a march, to declare war only when she was within

gunshot of Bleiberg. It lay with him to provent this move. His cup of wrath was full. From now on he was

resolved to wage war against Madame on his own account. She had laughed in his face. He pushed on,

examining trees, hollows and ditches. Sometimes he put his hand to his ear and listened. There was no sound

in the great lonely forest, save for the low murmur of the wind through the sprawling boughs. Shadows

danced on the forest floor. Once he turned and shook his clenched fist toward the spot which marked the

location of the Red Chateau. He thanked Providence that he was never to see it again. What an adventure to

Why did Madame keep Fitzgerald to her strings? He concluded not to bother himself with problems abstract;

the main object was to cross the Thalians by a path of his own choosing. When he had covered what he

thought to be a quarter of a mile, he mounted a lookout. The highway was about three hundred yards to the

left. That was where it should be. He saw no sentries, so he slid down from the tree and resumed his journey.

The chestnuts, oaks, and firs were growing thicker and denser. A dead branch cracked with a loud report

beneath his feet. With his heart almost in his throat, he lay down and listened. A minute passed; he listened in

Presently he came upon a cluster of trees which was capable of affording a hiding place for three or four men.

He stood still and surveyed it. The moon cast moving shadows on either side of it, but these had no human

shape. He laughed silently at his fear, and as he was about to pass the cluster a man stepped out from behind

it, his eyes gleaming and his hand extended. He was rather a handsome fellow, but pale and emaciated. He

wore a trooper's uniform, and Maurice, swearing softly, concluded that his dash for liberty had come to

naught. He, too, held a revolver in his hand, but he dared not raise it. There was a certain expression on the

"If you move," the trooper said, in a mild voice; "if you utter a sound, I'll blow off the top of your cursed

There the two stood, mottled in the moonshine and shadow, with wild eyes and nostrils distended, the one

triumphant, the other raging and impotent. Maurice was growing weary of fortune's discourtesies. He gazed

alternately from his own revolver, lying at his feet, to the one in the hand of this unexpected visitant. Only

two miles between him and freedom, yet he must turn back. The Colonel had reckoned without Madame, and

therefore without reason. This man had probably got around in front of him when he climbed the tree. He

The strange trooper laughed discordantly. "Back to the chateau? I think not. Now, then, right about

facemarch! Aye, toward the frontier; and if I have to go on alone, so much the worse for you. I've knocked

in one man's head; if necessary, I'll blow off the top of yours. You know the way back to Bleiberg, I don't;

But Maurice did not march; he was filled with curiosity. "Are you a trooper in Madame the duchess's

"Come, come; this will not pass. No tricks; you have been following me these twenty minutes."

"And without loss of time. When we cross the Thalians I shall be perfectly willing to parley with you."

"To Bleiberg, then," said Maurice. "Since that is my destination, the devil I care how I get there."

"Do you mean to tell me that you are going to Bleiberg?" surprise mingling with his impatience.

"I confess I never saw you before, and your tongue has a foreign twist," with growing doubt.

"Indeed I have the advantage of you, and propose to maintain it. Who are you and what are you doing here?

There was something in the young man's aspect which convinced Maurice that it would be folly to trifle.

Besides, he gave to his words an air which distinguishes the man who commands from the man who serves.

"I?" The young man laughed again. It was an unpleasant laugh. "Never mind who I am. Let us go, we are

"My God, a day too late!" The young man had an attack of vertigo, and was obliged to lean against a tree for

"I am. I myself was attempting to dispense with the questionable hospitality of the Red Chateaugood

"Are you the mysterious prisoner of the chateau, the man they have been keeping at the end of the east

Maurice, confident that something extraordinary was taking place, related in synopsis his adventures.

"He is dying." Maurice's wonder grew. What part had this strange young man in this comedy, which was

"And her Highnessher Royal Highness?" eagerly clutching Maurice by the arm; "and she?"

"She does not murmur, though both her pride and her heart are sore. She has scarcely a dozen friends. Her

paralytic father is the theme of ribald jest; and now they laugh at her because the one man who perhaps could

"They say he is enamoured of a peasant girl, and dallies with her, forgetting his sacred vows, his promised

"God help him!" was the startling and despairing cry. . . . He was again seized with the vertigo, and swayed

against the tree. For a moment he forgot Maurice, covered his face with his unengaged hand, and sobbed.

Maurice was helpless; he could offer no consolation. This grief he could not understand. He stooped and

"I am weak," said the other man, dashing his hand from his eyes; "I am weak and half starved. It would be

better for all concerned if I blew out my brains. The twentieth, the twentieth!" he repeated, dully. "Curse

her!" he burst forth; "as there's a God above us, I'll have revenge. Aye, I'll return to the chateau, Madame, that

I will, but at the head of ten thousand men! . . . The twentieth! She will never forgive me; she will think I,

"Aye, and ten thousand men! Come," taking Maurice by the arm; "come, they may be seeking us. To the

frontier. Every hour is precious. To a telegraph office! We shall see if I dally with peasant girls, if I forsake

"I am Prince Frederick, and I love her Highness. I would sacrifice a thousand kingdoms to spare her a

"What a woman!" Maurice murmured, as the scheme of Madame's flashed through his mind. "What a

"And by the most dishonorable device. I and my suite of gentlemen were coming to Bleiberg to make the

final arrangements. At Ehrenstein I received a telegram which requested me to visit till the following train a

baron who was formerly a comrade of my father. The telegram advised me of his sudden illness, and that he

had something important to disclose to me. I bade my gentlemen, save one, proceed to Bleiberg. My aide and

I entered the carriage which was to convey us to the castle. We never reached it. On the road we fell into an

ambush, a contrivance of Madame's. I was brought to the chateau. Whatever happened to Hofer, my aide, I

do not know. Doubtless he is dead. But Madame shall pay, both in pride and wealth. I will lay waste this

They stumbled on through the forest. So confused was Maurice that he forgot his usual caution. The supreme

confidence of this woman and the flawlessness of her schemes dazed him. So far she had stopped at nothing;

where would she end? A Napoleon in petticoats, she was about to appall the confederation. She had

suppressed a prince who was heir to a kingdom triple in power and size to the kingdom which she coveted.

Madame the duchess was relying on some greater power, else her plans were madness.

As for the prince, he had but one thought: to reach Bleiberg. The confinement, together with mental suffering,

anxiety and forced inaction, began to tell on him. Twice he tripped and fell, and Maurice had to return to

assist him to his feet. However could they cross the mountains, a feat which needed both courage and

"I am so weak," said the prince, "so pitiably weak! I thought to frighten the woman by starving myself, poor

And they went on again. Maurice was beginning to feel the effect of his winebibbing; he had a splitting

A hundred yards in advance of them stood a sentinel, his body bent forward and a hand to his ear. Presently

he, too, lay down. Five minutes passed. The sentinel rose, and convinced that his ears had tricked him,

resumed his lonely patrol. He disappeared toward the west, while the fugitives made off in an easterly

direction. Maurice was a soldier again. Every two or three hundred yards he knelt and pressed his ear to the

cold, damp earth and waited for a familiar jar. The prince watched these movements with interest.

"Yes. Perhaps we had better strike out for the mountains. The sentry line can not extend as far as this."

But now they could see the drab peaks of the mountains which loomed between the partly dismantled trees.

Beyond lay the kingdom. Would they ever reach it? There was only one pass; this they dared not make. Yet if

they attempted to cross the mountains in a deserted place, they might very easily get lost; for in some

locations it was fully six miles across the range, and this, with the ups and downs and windings in and out,

might lengthen into twenty miles. They struck out toward the mountains, and after half an hour they came

upon an unforeseen obstacle. They sat down in despair. This obstacle was the river, not very, wide, but deep,

"We shall have to risk the pass," said Maurice, gloomily; "though heaven knows how we are to get through it.

They followed the river. The roar of it deadened all other sounds. For a mile they plodded on, silent, watchful

and meditative. The prince thought of his love; Maurice tried to forget his. For him the romance had come to

an end, its logical end; and it was now only a question of getting back to the world to which he belonged and

remaining there. He recalled a line he had read somewhere: a deep love, gashes into the soul as a scar is hewn

Maurice came out of his dream and looked. Some distance west of the pass, perhaps half a mile from where

they stood, Maurice saw the twinkle of a hundred campfires. It was Madame's army in bivouac.

"It means that the duchess is on the eve of striking a blow for her crown," answered Maurice. "And how are

we to make the pass, which is probably filled with soldiers? If only we could find a boat! Ah! what would

your Highness call this?" He pointed to a threadlike line of bare earth which wended riverward.

"Then the river is perhaps fordable here!" exclaimed Maurice jubilantly. "At any rate, we'll try it; if it gets too

He walked to the water's edge, studied the black whirling mass, shrugged and stepped in. The prince came

after him, unhesitatingly. Both shivered. The water was intensely cold. But the bed was shallow, and the river

never mounted above the waist. However, in midstream it rushed strongly and wildly along, and all but

carried them off their feet. They arrived in safety at the opposite shore, weak and cold in body, but warm in

spirit. They lay on the grass for several moments, breathing heavily. They might now gain the pass by

clambering up the mountain and picking their way down from the other side. It was not possible that

"I am giving out," the prince confessed reluctantly. "Let us make as much headway as we can while I last."

They stood up. Now the moon fell upon them both; and they viewed each other with no little curiosity. What

the prince saw pleased him, for he possessed a good eye. What Maurice saw was a frank, manly countenance,

youthful, almost boyish. The prince did not look to be more than three and twenty, if that; but there was a

man's determination in his jaw. This jaw pleased Maurice, for it confided to him that Madame had now

"I put myself in your care," said the prince, offering his hand. "I am not equal to much. A man can not see his

wedding day come and go without him, helpless to prevent it, and not have the desire to sit down and weep

and curse. You will see nothing but the unfavorable side of me for the next dozen hours."

"I'm not altogether amiable myself," replied Maurice with a short laugh. "Let us get out of the moonlight," he

added; "we are somewhat conspicuous, and besides, we should keep moving; this cold is paralyzing. Is your

And the weary march began again; over boulders, through tangles of tough shrubbery, up steep inclines,

around precipices, sometimes enveloped in mists, yet still they kept on. Often the prince fell over ragged

stones, but he picked himself up without assistance; though he swore some, Maurice thought none the less of

him for that bit of human weakness. The cold was numbing, and neither felt the cuts and bruises.

After two hours of this fatiguing labor they arrived upon a small plateau, about two thousand feet above the

valley. The scene was solemn and imposing. The world seemed lying at their feet. The chateau, half hidden in

the mist, sparkled like an opal. Maurice scowled at it. To the prince the vision was as reviving as a glass of

wine. He threatened it with his fist, and plunged on with renewed vigor. There are few sensations so

stimulating as the thought of a complete revenge. The angle of vision presently changed, and the historic pile

Little more in the way of mishap befell them; and when the moon had wheeled half way down from the

zenith, the kingdom lay below them. A descent of an hour's duration brought them into the pass. Maurice

calculated that nearly five hours had passed since he left the chateau; for the blue was fading in the east. The

phantom vitality of the prince now forsook him; his legs refused their offices, and he sank upon a boulder, his

head in his hands. Maurice was not much better; but the prince had given him the burden of responsibility,

"If your Highness will remain here," he said, "I will fetch assistance, for the barrack can not be far off."

The prince nodded and Maurice tramped away. But the miniature barrack and the quaint stone customs house

both were wrapt in gloom and darkness. Maurice investigated. Both buildings were deserted; there was no

sign of life about. He broke a window, and entered the customs office. Remembering that Colonel Mollendorf

smoked, he searched the inner pocket of his coat. He drew forth a box of wax matches, struck one and looked

about. A struggle had taken place. Evidences were strewn on the floor. The telegraph operator's table had

been smashed into bits, the instrument twisted out of shape, the jars broken and the wires cut. Like

Maurice began to comprehend. Madame's troopers had crossed the frontier, but they had returned again,

taking with them the handful of troopers belonging to the king. It was plain that the object of this skirmish

had been to destroy communications between Bleiberg and the frontier. Madame desired to effect a complete

surprise, to swoop down on the capital before it could bring a large force into the field.

There is an unwritten law that when one country intends to wage war against its neighbor a formal

declaration shall be made. But again Madame had forsaken the beaten paths. More than three weeks had

passed since the duchy's representative in Bleiberg had been discredited and given his passports. At once the

duchess had retaliated by discrediting the king's representative in Brunnstadt. Ordinarily this would have

been understood as a mutual declaration of war. Instead, both governments ignored each other, one

suspiciously, the other intentionally. All of which is to say, the gage of war had been flung, but neither had

Perhaps Madame expected by this sudden aggressiveness to win her fight with as little loss of blood as

possible, which in justice to her was to her credit. Again, a declaration of war openly made might have

moved the confederation to veto it by coercion. To win without loss of life would leave the confederation

powerless to act. Therefore it will be seen that Madame was not only a daring woman, but a general of no

This post was an isolated one; between it and Bleiberg there was not even a village. The main pass from the

kingdom into the duchy was about thirty miles east. Here was a small but lively city named Coberg, a railway

center, garrisoned by one thousand troops. At this pass Madame's contemplated stroke of war would have

been impossible. The railway ran directly from Coberg to Brunnstadt, fifty miles south of the frontier. A

branch of the railway ran from Brunnstadt to a small town seven miles south of the Red Chateau, which

accounts for the ease with which Madame's troops had reached the isolated pass. It was now likely that

Madame would arrive before Bleiberg ere her enemies dreamed of the stroke. Maurice could see how well

the traitorous administration had played into Madame's hands. Here was the one weak spot, and they had

"The kingdom is lost," thought Maurice. "His Highness and I may as well return to the chateau, for all the

He began to forage, and discovered a bottle full of peach brandy. He drank half the contents, reserving the

remainder for the prince. As he lowered the bottle there came a sound which caused him almost to lose hold

of the vigorous tonic. The sound he heard was the shrill whinney of a horse. He pocketed the bottle and

dashed out to the stables. To his joy several horses stamped restlessly in the stalls. The attacking party had

without doubt come on foot. He led out two, saddled and bridled them and returned to the prince, who had

"To Bleiberg, your Highness," he cried, at the same time offering the bottle, which the prince did not hesitate

Maurice explained the cause of their absence. The prince swore, and climbed with difficulty into the saddle.

"To our next meeting, duchess!" The prince, too, was free, but he thirsted for a full revenge.

They fell into silence; sometimes Maurice caught himself counting the beat of the hoofs and the variation of

sounds, as when they struck sand or slate, or crossed small wooden bridges. Here and there he saw peasants

going into the fields to begin the long, long day of toil. The saddle on which he sat had been the property of a

short man, for the stirrups were too high, and the prince's were too low. But neither desired to waste time to

adjust them. And so they rode with dangling legs and bodies sunken in the saddles; mute, as if by agreement.

They had gone perhaps ten miles when they perceived a horse flying toward them, half a mile away. The

rider was not yet visible. They felt no alarm, but instinctively they drew together. Nearer and nearer came the

lonely horseman, and as the distance lessened into some hundred yards they discerned the flutter of a gown.

They drew up to the side of the highway. The woman came fearlessly on, her animal's head down and his tail

flaring out behind. On, on; abreast of them; as she flew past there was a vision of a pale, determined face, a

blond head bared to the chill wind. She heeded not their challenge; it was a question whether or not she heard

it. They stood watching her until she and her horse dwindled into a mere moving speck, finally to become

"It is very strange," the prince said, musingly. "I have seen that woman before. She is one of the dancers at

"Mayhap. Let us be on. There's the sun, and we are a good thirteen miles away!" and the prince slapped the

This tiring pace they maintained until they mounted the hill from which they could see the glittering spires of

"If your Highness will excuse me," said Maurice; "no, I should be in the way; and besides I am dead for want

"I shall never sleep," grumbled the prince, "till I have humbled that woman. And you? Have you no rankle in

"No matter; be my aide. Come; I offer you a complete revenge for the treatment you have received at

Maurice studied the mane of his horse. Suddenly he made a gesture. This gesture consigned to the four winds

his diplomatic career. "I accept," he said. "You will find me at the Continental. I confess that I have no love

"To the palace, then; to the palace! And this hour tomorrow we, you and I, will drink to her Royal Highness

Up the Strasse they raced, through the lower town to the upper, and down the broad asphalt to the palace

gates. The prince rushed his horse to the very bars and shook them in his wild impatience.

Several cuirassiers lounged about. At the sight of these two hatless, bedraggled men storming the gates, they

ran forward with drawn swords and angry cries. Lieutenant Scharfenstein was among them. At second glance

"Go and sleep," said the prince to Maurice; "I will send an orderly for you when the time comes." And with

this he dashed up the driveway to the main entrance of the palace, leaped from his horse and disappeared.

Maurice wheeled and drove leisurely to the Continental, leaving the amazed cuirassiers gaping after him. He

experienced that exuberance of spirits which always comes with a delightful day dream. He forgot his

weariness, his bruises. To mingle directly in the affairs of kings and princes, to be a factor among factors who

surround and uphold thrones, seemed so at variance with his republican learning that he was not sure that all

this was not one long dreamFitzgerald and his consols, the meeting with the princess, the adventures at

Madame's chateau, the duel with Beauvais, the last night's flight with the prince across the mountains! Yes;

he had fallen asleep somewhere and had been whisked away into a kind of fairyland. Every one was in

trouble just now, as they always are in certain chapters of fairy tales, but all would end happily, and thenhe

Meanwhile the prince entered the palace and was proceeding up the grand corridor, when a bared sword

Von Mitter fell back against the wall and all but lost hold of his saber. "Your Highness?" he gasped,

"Even so!" said the prince. "The archbishop! the Marshal! Lead me to them at once!"

Von Mitter was too much the soldier not to master his surprise at once. He saluted, clicked his heels and

limped toward the throne room. He stopped at the threshold, saluted again, and, in a voice full of quavers,

He stepped aside, and the prince pushed past him into the throne room. At this dramatic entrance there rose

from the archbishop, the Marshal, the princess, the Carnavian ambassador, from all the court dignitaries, a cry

"Aye!" cried the prince, brokenly, for his joy at seeing the princess nigh overcame him. "I have been a

prisoner of Madame's, who at this moment is marching on Bleiberg with an army four thousand strong!" And

The Marshal did not wait until he had done, nor did the new Colonel of the cuirassiers; both rushed from the

room. The archbishop frowned; while the princess and the court stared at the prince with varying emotions.

Before the final word had passed his lips, he approached her Highness, fell on his knee and raised her hand to

"Thank God, Mademoiselle," he said, "that once more I look into your eyes. And if one wedding day is

gonewell, there is yet time for another!" He, rose, and proudly before them all he drew her toward him and

kissed her cheek. It was his right; she was, the light of all his dreams, at once his bridetobe and lady love.

But in his joy and eagerness he did not see how pale she grew at the touch of his lips, nor how the lids of her

Next the prince recounted Maurice's adventures, how he became connected with those at the chateau, even

Fitzgerald's fall from grace. The indignation and surprise which was accorded this recital was unbounded.

The brown eyes of the princess filled. In a moment she had traversed the space of ten years to a rare

September noon, when a grayhaired old man had kissed her hand and praised her speech. A young dog

stood beside her, ready for a romp in the park. Across the path sat her father, who was smiling, and who

would never smile again. How many times had her girlish fancy pictured the son of that old man! How many

times had she dreamed of him aye, prayed for him! The room grew dark, and she pressed her hand over

her heart. To her the future was empty indeed. There was nothing left but the vague perfume of the past, the

faint incense of futile, childish dreams. To stand on the very threshold of life, and yet to see no joy beyond!

"God wills all things," he said, sadly, "and perhaps he has willed that your Highness should come too late!"

And that strange, habitual smile was goneforever. No one could fathom the true significance of this

War! The whole city was in tumult. The guests were leaving the hotels, the timid were preparing to fly, and

shopkeepers were putting up their blinds and hiding their valuables; the parks and cafes were deserted. The

railway booking office was crowded, and a babel of tongues quarreled for precedence. The siege of Paris was

but yesterday's news, and tourists did not propose to be walled in from the outer world. Some looked upon

the scene as a comic opera; others saw the tragedy of men snarling at one another's throats.

Two hundred gendarmes patrolled the streets; for in war time the dregs of a city float to the surface. Above

the foreign legations flags rose, offering protection to all those who possessed the right to claim it. Less than

four thousand troops had marched from the city that day, but these were the flower of the army, consisting of

two thousand foot, six cannon and twelve hundred horse. Europe has always depended largely on the cavalry,

With gay plumes and banners, glittering helmets and flashing cuirasses, they had gone forth to meet Madame

and drive her back across the range. They had made a brave picture, especially the royal cuirassiers, who

numbered three hundred strong, and who were to fight not only for glory, but for bread. Fifty of them had

In the royal bedchamber the king lay, all unconscious of the fate impending. The brain had ceased to live;

only a feeble pulse stirred irregularly. The state physician shook his head, and, from time to time, laid his

But to the girl, whose face lay hidden in the counterpane, close to one of those senseless hands, to her it was a

matter of a breaking heart, of eyes which could be no longer urged to tears, the wells having dried up. Dear

God, she thought, how cruel it was! Her tried and trusted friend, the one playmate of her childhood, was

silently slipping out of her life forever. Ah, what to her were crowns and kingdoms, aye, and even war? Her

father dead, what mattered it who reigned? How she prayed that he might live! They would go away together,

and live in peace and quiet, undisturbed by the storms of intrigue. . . . It was not to be; he was dying. She

would be the wife of no man; her father, hovering in spirit above her, would read her heart and understand.

Dead, he would ask no sacrifice of her. Henceforth only God would be her king, and she would worship him

The old valet, who had served his master from boyhood, stood in the anteroom and fumbled his lips, his

faded eyes red with weeping. He was losing the only friend he had. Elsewhere the servants wandered about

restlessly, waiting for news from the front, to learn if they, too, were to join in the mad flight from the city.

Few servants love masters in adversity. Self interest is the keynote to their existences.

In the east wing three men were holding a whispered consultation. The faces of two were pale and

deeplined; the face of the third expressed a mixture of condolence and triumph. These three gentlemen were

the archbishop, the chancellor and the Austrian ambassador. History has not taken into account what passed

between these three men, but subsequent events proved that it signified disaster to one who dreamed of

Said the ambassador, rising: "After what has been said, his Imperial Majesty will, I can speak authoritatively,

further discredit Walmoden; for I have this day received information from a reliable source which precludes

any rehabilitation of that prince. My deepest sympathies are with her Highness; his Majesty highly honored

her unfortunate father. Permit me to bid you good day, for you know that the matter under my hand needs my

When he had gone the prelate said: "My friend, our services to the kingdom are nearly over."

"I find," said the prelate, "that we have been lost for ten years. Had this Englishman proved true, it would not

have mattered; had Prince Frederick arrived in time, still it would not have mattered. But above all, I was

determined that Madame the duchess should not triumph. The end was written ten years ago. How invincible

In the lower town the students were preparing a riot, which was to take place that night. Old Stuler's was

thronged. Stuler himself looked on indifferently, even listlessly. He had heard of Kopf's death.

It was half after five of the afternoon. Six miles beyond the Althofen bridge, in all thirteen miles from

Bleiberg, a long, low cloud of dust hung over the king's highway. This cloud of dust was caused by the

hurried, rhythmic padpad of human feet, the striking of hoofs and the wheels of cannon. It marked the

progress of an army. To the great surprise of the Marshal, the prince and the staff, they had pushed thus far

during the afternoon without seeing a sign of the enemy. Was Madame asleep? Was she so confident her

projects were unknown that she had chosen night as the time of her attack? Night, indeed, when the strength

of her forces would be a matter of conjecture to the assaulted, who at the suddenness of her approach would

succumb to panic! The prince was jubilant and hopeful. He had no doubt that they would arrive at the pass

just as Madame was issuing forth. This meant an easy victory, for once the guns covered the narrow pass,

though Madame's army were ten times as strong, its defeat was certain. A small force might hold it in check

A squadron of cuirassiers had been sent forward to reconnoiter, and as yet none had returned with alarms.

The road had many windings, and was billowed frequently with hills, and ran through small forests. Only the

"We shall drink at the Red Chateau tonight," said the prince, gaily, to Maurice.

Only the Marshal said nothing; he knew what war was. In his youth he had served in Transylvania, and he

was not minded to laugh and jest. Then, too, there was injustice on both sides. Poor devil! as his thoughts

recurred to the king. Touched for the moment by the wings of ambition, which is at best a white vulture, he

had usurped another's throne, and to this end! But he was less answerable than the archbishop, who had urged

Occasionally he glanced back at the native troops, the foot, the horse, the artillery, and scowled. From these

his glance wandered to the cold, impassive face of General Kronau, who rode at his side, and he rubbed his

nose. Kronau had been a favorite of Albrecht's . . . How would he act? In truth, the Marshal's thoughts were

not altogether pleasant. Some of these men surrounding him, exchanging persiflage, might never witness

another sunset. For, while the world would look upon this encounter as one looks upon a comedy, for some it

would serve as tragedy. Often he lent his ear to the gay banter of the young American, and watched the

careless smile on his face. What was he doing here? Why was he risking his life for no cause whatever, an

alien, in natural sympathy neither with the kingdom nor with the duchy? A sad, grim smile parted his lips.

Maurice felt the old familiar exhilarationthe soldier's exhilarationquicken the beat of his pulse. He did

not ask himself why he was here; he knew why. A delightful flower had sprung up in his heart, and fate had

nipped it. Whither this new adventure would lead him he cared not. From now on life for him must be

renewed by continual change and excitement. Since no one depended on him, his life was his to dispose of as

he willed. Friends? He laughed. He knew the world too well. He himself was his best friend, for he had

He might be shot, but he had faced that possibility before. Besides, today's experience would be new to him.

He had never witnessed a battle in the open, man to man, in bright, resplendent uniforms. A ragged, dusty

troop of brownskinned men in faded blue, with free and easy hats, irregular of formation, no glory, no

brilliancy, skirmishing with outlawed white men and cunning Indians, that was the extent of his knowledge

by experience. True, these selfsame men in dingy blue fought with a daring such as few soldiers living

possessed; but they lacked the ideal picturesqueness which made this army so attractive.

The sharp edges of his recent fatigue were not yet dulled, but his cuirass sat lightly upon him, the sound of

the dangling saber at his side smote pleasantly his ear, and the black Mecklenberg under him was strong and

active. To return to Madame's chateau in the guise of a conqueror was a most engaging thought. She had

humbled his selflove, now to humble hers! He no longer bothered himself about Beauvais, whose case he

Gay and debonair he rode that late September afternoon. No man around him had so clear an eye nor so

constant a vivacity. Since he had nothing but his life to lose, he had no fear. Let the theater be full of light

while the play lasted, and let the curtain fall to a round of huzzas! For a few short hours ago he had kissed a

woman's hand and had looked into her sad brown eyes. "Why you do this I do not know, nor shall I ask.

Monsieur, my prayers go with you." Was not that an amulet? His diplomatic career! He fell to whistling.

More than once the prince felt the sting of envy in his heart at the sight of this embodiment of supreme

nonchalance. It spoke of a healthy salt in the veins, a salt such as kings themselves can not always boast of. A

"Monsieur," he said impulsively, "you shall always possess my friendship, once we are well out of this."

"Thanks, your Highness," replied Maurice, and laughing; "the afterthought is timely!"

The sun lay close to the western rim of hills; an opal sky encompassed the earth; the air was balmy.

"The French call this St. Martin's summer," said Maurice. "In my country we call it Indian summerah!"

The army was approaching a hill, when suddenly a whirlwind of dust rolled over the summit, and

immediately a reconnoitering patrol came dashing into view, waving their sabers aloft. . . . The enemy was

To anticipate. Madame the duchess had indeed contemplated striking the blow at night. That morning, like

the brave Amazon she was, she had pitched her tent in the midst of her army, to marshal and direct its forces.

It was her intention to be among the first to enter Bleiberg; for she was a soldier's daughter, and could master

That same morning a woman entered the lines and demanded an audience. What passed between her and

Madame the duchess others never knew. She had also been apprised of the prisoners' escape, but, confident

that they would not be able to make a crossing, she disdained pursuit. The prince had missed his wedding

day; he was no longer of use to her. As to the American, he would become lost, and that would be the end of

But the Englishman. . . . He was conscience eternally barking at her heels. The memory of that kiss still

rankled in her mind, and not an hour went by in which she did not chide herself for the folly. How to get rid

of him perplexed her. Here he was, in the uniform of a LieutenantColonel, ready to go to any lengths at a

sign from her. There was something in her heart which she had not yet analyzed. First of all, her crown; as to

her heart, there was plenty of time in which to study that peculiar and unstable organ. The possibility of the

prince's arriving in Bleiberg before her in no way disturbed her. Whenever her attack was made, failure

would not attend it. She broke camp at two o'clock and took the road leisurely toward Bleiberg.

Thus, the two armies faced each other comparatively in the open. A battle hung in the air.

The king's forces came to an abrupt halt. Orderlies dashed to and fro. The artillery came rumbling and

creaking to the front, wheeled, the guns unlimbered and ranged so as to enfilade the road. The infantry

deployed to right and left while the cavalry swung into position on the flanks. All this was accomplished with

the equanimity of dress parade. Maurice could not control his admiration. Madame, he thought, might win

The Marshal and the staff posted themselves on the right breast of the hill, from whence, by the aid of

binoculars, they could see the enemy. From time to time General Kronau nervously smoothed his beard,

formed his lips into words, but did not utter them, and glanced slyly from the corner of his eye at the Marshal,

who was intent on the enemy's approach. Maurice was trying with naked eye to pierce the forest and the

Orders had been issued for the gunners to get the range and commence firing; but as the gunners seemed over

long in getting down to work, Maurice gazed around impatiently. The blood rushed into his heart. For this is

what he saw: the infantry leaning indolently on their guns, their officers snipping the grasses with their

swords; the cuirassiers hidden in the bulk of the native cavalry; artillerymen seated carelessly on the caissons,

and the gunners smoking and leaning against the guns. All action was gone, as if by magic; nothing but a

strange tableau remained! Moreover, a troop of native cavalry, which, for no apparent reason, had not joined

the main body, had closed in on the general staff. Appalled by a sudden thought, Maurice touched the prince,

who lowered his glasses and turned his head. Bewilderment widened his eyes, and the flush on his cheeks

"Devil's name!" the Marshal burst forth, "why don't the blockheads shoot? The enemy" He stopped, his

chin fell, for, as he turned, a single glance explained all to him. The red on his face changed into a sickly

purple, and the glasses slipped from his hands and broke into pieces on the stony ground.

"Marshal," began General Kronau, "I respect your age and valiant services. That is why we have come

thirteen miles. You may keep your sword, and also Monsieur the prince. For the present you are prisoners."

For a moment the Marshal was stupefied. His secret fears had been realized. Suddenly a hoarse oath issued

from his lips, he dragged his saber from the scabbard, raised it and made a terrible sweep at the General. But

the stroke fell on a dozen intervening blades, and the Marshal's arms were held and forced to his sides.

"Kronau . . . you?" he roared. "Betrayed! You despicable coward and traitor! You" But speech forsook

"Traitor?" echoed Kronau, coolly. "To what and to whom? I am serving my true and legitimate sovereign. I

am also serving humanity, since this battle is to be bloodless. It is you who are the traitor. You swore

allegiance to the duke, and that allegiance is the inheritance of the daughter. How have you kept your oath?"

But the Marshal was incapable of answer. One looking at him would have said that he was suffering from a

"I admit," went on the General, not wholly unembarrassed, "that the part I play is not an agreeable one to me,

but it is preferable to the needless loss of human life. The duchess was to have entered Bleiberg at night, to

save us this present dishonor, if you persist in calling it such. But his Highness, who is young, and

Monseigneur the archbishop, who dreams of Richelieu, made it impossible. No harm is intended to any one."

The prince, white and shivering as if with ague, broke his sword on the pommel of the saddle and hurled the

"God's witness," the prince cried furiously, "but your victory shall be shortlived. I have an army, trusty to

the last sword, and you shall feel the length of its arm within fortyeight hours."

"Your Highness forgets that Carnavia belongs to the confederation, and that the king, your father, dare not

send you troops without the consent of the emperor, which, believe me, will never be given;" and he urged

The army of the duchess had now gained the open. The advance was composed of cavalry, which came along

A noisy cheer arose, to be faintly echoed by the oncoming avalanche of white horses and dazzling blue

With rage and chagrin in his heart, Maurice viewed the scene. The knell of the Osians had been struck. He

gazed forlornly at the cuirassiers; they at least had come to sell their lives honestly for their bread. Presently

the two armies came together; all was confusion and cheers. Kronau approached the leader of the cavalry. . . .

"Yes, yes!" replied the prince, intuitively. "My God, yes! Warn her to fly, so that she will not be compelled to

witness this cursed woman's triumph. Save her that humiliation. Go, and God be with you, my friend! We are

The native troopers, in their eagerness to witness the meeting between Kronau and the former Colonel of the

cuirassiers, had pushed forward. A dozen, however, had hemmed in the Marshal, the prince and Maurice. But

these were standing in their stirrups. Maurice gradually brought his horse about so that presently he was

facing north. Directly in front of him was an opening. He grasped his saber firmly and pressed the spurs.

Quick as he was, two sabers barred his way, but he beat them aside, went diagonally down the hill, over the

While he was maneuvering for this dash, one man had been eying him with satisfaction. As the black horse

suddenly sank from view behind the hill, Beauvais, to the astonishment of Kronau, drew his revolver.

"There goes a man," he cried, "who must not escape. He is so valuable that I shall permit no one but myself

to bring him back!" And the splendid white animal under him bounded up the hill and down the other side.

Beauvais had a welldefined purpose in following alone. He was determined that one Maurice Carewe

For a long time Maurice rode with his head almost touching the coal black mane of his gallant Mecklenberg.

Twice he glanced back to see who followed, but the volume of dust which rolled after him obscured all

behind. He could hear the faroff hammer of hoofs, but this, mingling with the noise of his own horse,

confused him as to the number of pursuers. He reasoned that he was well out of range, for there came no

report of firearms. The road presently described a semicircle, passing through a meager orchard. Once

"Only one; that is not so bad as it might be. It is one to one." But a second glance told him who this solitary

pursuer was. "The devil!" he laughedas one of Tasso's heroes might have laughed! "The devil! how that

man loves me!" He was confident that the white horse would never overtake the black.

On they flew, pursued and pursuer. At length Maurice bit his lip and frowned. The white horse was growing

Deserted farm houses swept past; hills rose and vanished, but still the white horse crept up, up, up. The

distance ere another half mile had gone had diminished to four hundred yards; from four hundred it fell to

three hundred, from three hundred to two hundred. The Mecklenburg was doing glorious work, but the

marvelous stride of the animal in the rear was matchless. Suddenly Maurice saw a tuft of the red plume on his

helmet spring out ahead of him and sail away, and a second later came the report. One, he counted; four more

were to follow. Next a stream of fire gassed along his cheek, and something warm trickled down the side of

his neck. Two, he counted, his face now pale and set. The third knocked his scabbard into the air.

Quickly he shifted his saber to the left, dropped the reins and drew his own revolver. He understood. He was

not to be taken prisoner. Beauvais intended to kill him offhand. Only the dead keep secrets. Maurice flung

about and fired three consecutive times. The white horse reared, and the shako of his master fell into the dust,

but there was no other result. As Maurice pressed the trigger for the fourth time the revolver was violently

wrenched from his hand, and a thousand needles seemed to be quivering in the flesh of his arm and hand.

Simultaneous with the fifth and last shot came sensation somewhat like that caused by a sound blow in the

middle of the back. Strange, but he felt no pain, neither was there an accompanying numbness. Then he

remembered his cuirass, which was of steel an eighth of an inch thick. It had saved his life. The needles

began to leave his right hand and arm, and he knew that he had received no injury other than a shock. He

passed the saber back to his right hand. He had no difficulty in holding it. Gradually his grip grew strong and

Beauvais was now within twenty yards of Maurice. Had he been less eager and held his fire up to this point,

Maurice had been a dead man. The white horse gained every moment. A dull fury grew into life in Maurice's

heart. Instead of continuing the race, he brought the Mecklenberg to his haunches and wheeled. He made

straight for Beauvais, who was surprised at this change of tactics. In the rush they passed each other and the

"Your life or mine!" snarled Maurice. His coolness, however, was proportionate to his rage. For the first time

"The Austrian ambassador has your history; kill me or not, you are lost." Maurice made a sweep at his

Beauvais replied in kind, and it flashed viciously off the point of Maurice's saber. He had only his life to lose,

but it had suddenly become precious to him; Beauvais had not only his life, but all that made life worth

living. His onslaught was terrible. Besides, he was fighting against odds; he wore no steel protector. Maurice

wore his only a moment longer. A cut in the side severed the lacings, and the sagging of the cuirass greatly

handicapped him. He pressed the spurs and dashed away, while Beauvais cursed him for a cowardly cur.

Maurice, by this maneuver, gained sufficient time to rid himself of the cumbersome steel. What he lost in

protection, he gained in lightness and freedom. Shortly Beauvais was at him again. The time for banter had

passed; they fought grimly and silently. The end for one was death. Beauvais knew that if his antagonist

escaped this time the life he longed for, the power and honor it promised, would never be his. On his side,

The horses plunged and snorted, reared and swayed and bit. Sometimes they carried their masters several

The sun was going down, and a clear, white light prevailed. Afar in the field a herd was grazing, but no one

The duel went on. Maurice was growing tired. By and by he began to rely solely on the defense. When they

were close, Beauvais played for the point; the moment the space widened he took to the edge. He saw what

Maurice feltthe weakening, and he indulged in a cruel smile. They came close; he made as though to give

the point. Maurice, thinking to anticipate, reached. Quick as light Beauvais raised his blade and brought it

down with crushing force, standing the while in the stirrups. The blow missed Maurice's head by an inch, but

it sank so deeply in his left shoulder that it splintered the collar bone and stopped within a hair of the great

The world turned red, then black. When it grew light again Maurice beheld the dripping blade swinging aloft

again. Suddenly the black horse snapped at the white, which veered. The stroke which would have split

Maurice's skull in twain, fell on the rear of the saddle, and the blade was so firmly imbedded in the wooden

molding that Beauvais could not withdraw it at once. Blinded by pain as he was, and fainting, yet Maurice

saw his chance. He thrust with all his remaining strength at the brown throat so near him. And the blade went

true. The other's body stiffened, his head flew back, his eyes started; he clutched wildly at the steel, but his

hands had not the power to reach it. A bloody foam gushed between his lips; his mouth opened; he swayed,

As Maurice gazed down at him, between the dead eyes and his own there passed a vision of a darkskinned

Maurice was sensible of but little pain; a pleasant numbness began to steal over him. His sleeve was soaked,

his left hand was red, and the blood dripped from his fingers and made round black spots in the dust of the

road. A circle of this blackness was widening about the head of the fallen man. Maurice watched it,

It seemed to Maurice that his own body was transforming into lead, and he vaguely wondered how the horse

could bear up such a weight. He was sleepy, too. Dimly it came to him that he also must be dying. . . . No; he

would not die there, beside this man. He still gripped his saber. Indeed, his hand was as if soldered to the wire

and leather windings on the hilt. Mollendorf had said that Beauvais was invincible. . . . Beauvais was dead.

Was he, too, dying? . . . No; he would not die there. The Mecklenberg started forward at a walk; a spur had

"No!" Maurice cried, throwing off the drowsiness. "My God, I will not die here! . . . Go, boy!" The

His recent enemy, the great white horse, stood motionless in the center of the road, and followed him with

large, inquiring eyes. He turned and looked at the silent huddled mass in the dust at his feet, and whinneyed.

Soon Maurice remembered an episode of his school days, when, in the spirit of precocious research, he had

applied carbolic acid to his arm. It occurred to him that he was now being bathed in that burning fluid. He

was recovering from the shock. With returning sense came the increase of pain, pain so tormenting and

exquisite that sobs rose in his throat and choked him. Perspiration matted his hair; every breath he took was a

knife thrust, and the rise and fall of the horse, gentle as it was, caused the earth to reel and careen

Bleiberg; he was to reach Bleiberg. He repeated this thought over and over. Bleiberg, to warn her. Why

should he go to Bleiberg to warn her? What was he doing here, he who loved life so well? What had led him

into this? . . . There had been a battle, but neither army had been cognizant of it. He endeavored to move his

injured arm, and found it bereft of locomotion. The tendons had been cut. And he could not loosen his grip on

the saber which he held in his right hand. The bridle rein swung from side to side.

Rivulets of fire began to run up and down his side; the cords in his neck were stiffening. Still the blood went

drip, drip, drip, into the dust. Would he reach Bleiberg, or would he die on the way? God! for a drink of

water, cold water. He set his teeth in his lips to neutralize the pain in his arm and shoulder. His lips were

numb, and the pressure of his teeth was as nothing. From one moment to the next he expected to drop from

the saddle, but somehow he hung on; the spark of life was tenacious. The saber dangled on one side, the

scabbard on the other. The blood, drying in places, drew the skin as tight as a drumhead.

On, on, on; up long inclines, down the steeps; he lost all track of time, and the darkness thickened and the

stars stood out more clearly. . . . He could look back on a clean life; true, there were some small stains, but

these were human. Strange fancies jostled one another; faces long forgot reappeared; scenes from boyhood

rose before him. Home! He had none, save that which was the length and breadth of his native land. On, on,

"Why you do this I do not know, nor shall I ask. Monsieur, my prayers go with you!" . . . She had said that to

him, and had given him her hand to kiss; a princess, one of the chosen and the few. To live long enough to

see her again; a final service and adieu! . . . Ah, but it had been a good fight, a good fight. No fine phrases;

nothing but the lust for blood; a life for a life; a game in which the winner was also like to lose. A gray patch

Mottled with the silver of the stars, it ran along through the fields; a brook, shallow and narrow, but water.

The perfume of the grasses was sweet; the horse sniffed joyously. He stopped of his own accord. Maurice had

strength enough to dismount. The saber slid from his grasp. He staggered down to the water. In kneeling a

faintness passed over him; he rolled into the brook and lay there until the water, almost clogging his throat

and nostrils, revived him. He crawled to his knees, coughing and choking. The contact of the cold with the

The horse had come down from the road. He had not waited for an invitation. He drank thirstily at the side of

"Good boy!" Maurice called, and dashed water against his shoulder. "Good boy!" he remembered that the

Each handful of the cold liquid caused him to gasp; but soon the fever and fire died out, leaving only the

duller pain. When he rose from his knees, however, he found that the world had not yet ceased its wild

reeling. He stooped to regain his saber, and fell into the dust; though to him it was not he who fell, but the

earth which rose. He struggled to his feet, leaned panting on his saber, and tried to steady himself. He laughed

hysterically. He had dismounted, but he knew that he could never climb to the back of the horse; and Bleiberg

might yet be miles away. To walk the distance; was it possible? To reach Bleiberg before Madame. . . .

Madame the duchess and her army! He laughed again, but there was a wild strain in his laughter. Ah, God!

what a farce it was! One man dead and another dying; the beginning and the end of the war. The comic

opera! La Grande Duchesse! And the fool of an Englishman was playing Fritz! He started down the road, his

The hand of madness had touched him. The Mecklenberg followed at his heels as a dog would have followed

Less than a mile away a yellow haze wavered in the sky. It was the reflection of the city lights.

Maurice passed under the town gates, the wild song on his lips, his eyes bloodshot, his hair dank about his

brow, conscious of nothing but the mad, rollicking rhythm. Nobody molested him; those he met gave him the

full width of the road. A strange picture they presented, the man and the troop horse. Some one recognized

the trappings of the horse; half an hour later it was known throughout the city that the king's army had been

defeated and that Madame was approaching. Students began their depredations. They built bonfires. They

raided the office of the official paper, and destroyed the presses and type. Later they marched around the

Once a gendarme tried to stop Maurice and inquire into his business. The inquisition was abruptly ended by a

cut from the madman's sword. The gendarme took to his legs. Maurice continued, and the Mecklenberg

tramped on after him. Into the Konigstrasse they turned. At this time, before the news was known, the street

was deserted. Up the center of it the man went, his saber scraping along the asphalt, the horse always

Voici le sabre de mon pere! Tu vas le mettre a ton cote! Apres la victoire, j'espere Te revoir en bonne sante. .

The street lamps swayed; sometimes a dozen revolved on one post, and Maurice would stop long enough to

laugh. How easy it was to walk! All he had to do was to lift a foot, and the pavement would rise to meet it.

The moon, standing high behind him, cast a long, weird shadow, and he staggered after it and cut at it with

the saber. It was only when he saw the lights of the royal palace and the great globes on the gate posts that

"To the palace!" he cried; "to the palace! To warn her!" And he stumbled against the gates, still calling, "To

The cuirassiers who had been left behind to protect the inmates of the palace, were first aroused by the

yelling and singing of the students. They rushed out of the guard room and came running to the gates, which

they opened. The body of a man rolled inside. They stopped and examined him; the uniform was theirs. The

face they looked into was that of the handsome young foreigner who, that day, had gone forth from the city, a

gay and gallant figure, who sat his horse so well that he earned their admiration. What could this mean? And

"Run back to the guard room, one of you, and fetch some brandy. He lives." And Lieutenant Scharfenstein

took his hand from the insensible man's heart. Pulsation was there, but weak and intermittent. "Sergeant, take

ten men and clear the square. If they refuse to leave, kill! Madame is not yet queen by any means."

The men scattered. One soon returned with the brandy. Scharfenstein moistened the wounded man's lips and

placed his palm under the nose. Shortly Maurice opened his eyes, his half delirious eyes.

"To the palace!" he said, "to the palaceAh!" He saw the faces staring down at him. He struggled.

Instinctively they all stood back. What seemed incredible to them, he got to his knees, from his knees to his

feet, and propped himself against a gate post. "Your life or mine!" he cried. "Come on; a man can die but

once!" He lunged, and again they retreated. He laughed. "It was a good fight!" He reeled off toward the

palace steps. They did not hinder him, but they followed, expecting each moment to see him fall. But, he fell

not. One by one he mounted the steps, steadying himself with the saber. He gained the landing, once more

"He is out of his head!" cried Scharfenstein, rushing up the steps. "God knows what has happened!"

He was in time to see Maurice lurch into the arms of Captain von Mitter, who had barred the way to the

"Carewe! . . . What has happened? God's name, you are soaked in blood!" Von Mitter held Maurice at arm's

"Aye, a battle; one man is dead and another soon will be!" A transient lucidity beamed in Maurice's eyes.

"We were betrayed by the native troops; they ran to meet Madame. . . . Marshal Kampf, Prince Frederick, and

the cuirassiers are prisoners. . . . I escaped. Beauvais, gave chase. . . . Wanted to kill me. . . . He gave me this.

I ran him through the throat. . . . Knew him in South America. . . . He's dead! Inform the archbishop and her

"Hush!" said von Mitter, with a finger on his lip; "hush! The king died at six o'clock. God rest his soul!" He

crossed himself. "A disgraceful day! Curse the scheming woman, could she not let us bury him in peace?

"I am dying," said Maurice with a sob. "Let me lie down somewhere; if I fall I am a dead man." After a

pause: "Take me into the throne room. I shall last till Madame comes. Let her find me there. . . . The brandy!"

"The throne room?" repeated von Mitter, surprised at this strange request. "Well, why not? For what is a

throne when there is no king to sit on it? You will not die, my friend, though the cut is a nasty one. What is an

arm? Life is worth a thousand of them! Quick! help me with him, Max!" for Maurice was reaching blindly

The three troopers who had followed Scharfenstein came up, and the five of them managed to carry Maurice

into the throne room, and deposit him on the cushions at the foot of the dais. There they left him.

"Bad!" said von Mitter, as he came limping out into the corridor. "And he made such a brave show when he

left here this afternoon. I have grown to love the fellow. A gallant man. I knew that the native troops were up

to something. So did the Colonel. Ach! I would give a year of my life to have seen him and Beauvais. To kill

Beauvais, the best saber in the kingdomit must have been a fight worthy of the legends. A bad day! They

will laugh at us. But, patience, the archbishop has something to say before the curtain falls. Poor young man!

"It is not for me or you to question, Max," said von Mitter, looking down. He had his own opinion, but he

"Perform my duty until the end," sourly. "Go you and help against the students, who have not manliness

enough even to respect the dead. The cowardly servants are all gone; save the king's valet. There are only

seven of us in all. I will seek the king's physician; the dead are dead, so let us concern ourselves with the

In the royal bedchamber a girl murmured over a cold hand. "God pity me; I am all, all alone!"

The archbishop was kneeling at the foot of the bed. In his heart was the bitterness of loss and defeat. His

dreams of greatness for this clay! The worldly pomp which was to have attended it! Life was but a warm

The square soon grew quiet; the students and the cuirassiers had met for the last time. In the throne room

shadows and silence prevailed. Maurice lay upon the cushions, the hilt of the saber still in his hand.

Consciousness had returned, a clear, penetrating consciousness. At the foot of the throne, he thought, and,

mayhap, close to one not visible to the human eye! What a checkerboard he had moved upon, and now the

checkmate! So long as the pain did not diminish, he was content; a sudden ease was what he dreaded. Life

was struggling to retain its hold. He did not wish to die; he was young; there were long years to come; the

world was beautiful, and to love was the glory over it all. He wondered if Beauvais still lay in the road where

he had left him. Again he could see that red saber swinging high; and he shivered.

Half an hour passed, then came the distant murmur of voices, which expanded into tumult. The victorious

army, the brave and gallant army, had entered the city, and was streaming toward the palaces. Huzzas rose

amid the blaring of bugles. The timorous came forth and added to the noise. The conquerors trooped into the

palace, and Madame the duchess looked with shining eyes at the throne of her forefathers.

Madame, like a statue of expectancy, riveted her gaze on the throne. Hers at last! Her dreams were realized.

She was no longer a duchess by patent; she was a queen by right of inheritance; she was now to be a power

among the great. The kingdom of her forefathers was hers. She had reached the goal without bloodshed; she

had been patient, and this was her reward. The blaze of her ambition dimmed all other stars. Her bosom

heaved, triumph flashed in her beautiful eyes, and a smile parted her lips. Her first thought had been to

establish headquarters in the parlors of the Continental Hotel, and from there to summon the archbishop, as a

conqueror summons the chief of the vanquished. But no; she could not wait; above all things she desired the

Over her shoulders peered eager faces, in which greed and pleasure and impassibility were written. One face,

however, had on it the dull red of shame. Not until now did the full force of his intended dishonesty come

home to the Englishman; not until now did he realize the complete degradation to which his uniform had

lowered him. His had been the hand to stay this misfortune, and he had not lifted it. This king had been his

father's friend; and he had taken up arms against him. O, he had begun life badly; he was making the end still

more dismal. Would this woman ever be his? Her promises were not worth the air that had carried them to his

ear. He, the consort of a queen? A cold sweat dampened his forehead. How he loved her! And that kiss. . . .

From the Platz and the Park, where the two armies had bivouacked, came an intermittent cheering. The

flames of bonfires were reflected on the windows, throwing out in dull, yellow relief the faces of Madame

Between the private apartments of the king and the throne room was a wide sliding door. Suddenly this

opened and closed. With his back against it, a pistol in one hand and a saber in the other, stood Captain von

Mitter, his face cold and resolute. All eyes were instantly directed toward him.

"Take care, Monsieur," she warned; "I am mistress here. If you will not obey me, my officers will."

"Madame, I acknowledge no mistress save the daughter of the king. No one shall pass this door to announce

This reply was greeted with sundry noises, such as sabers coming from scabbards, clicking of pistol locks,

and the moving of feet. Madame put out her hand suggestively, and the noise ceased. Von Mitter smiled

"I warn you, Madame," he said, "that this is war. I accept all the responsibilities of my position. I know

nothing of any surrender or victory. To me you are simply an enemy. I will kill any one who attempts to pass.

I should be pleased if General Kronau would make the first step to question my sincerity."

Kronau's fingers twitched around his revolver, but Madame touched his arm. She could read faces. The

"Captain, all here are prisoners of war," she said. "Do not forget that soon there will be benefits for those who

He laughed rudely. "I ask no benefits from your hands, Madame. I would rather stand on the corner and beg."

He sent an insolent, contemptuous glance at Kronau, who could not support it. "And now that you have

gratified your curiosity, I beg you to withdraw to the street. Tonight this palace is a tomb, and woe to those

"The king?" she said, struck by a thought which caused a red spot to appear on each cheek.

The wine which had tasted so sweet was full of lees, and the cup wormwood. Madame looked down, while

her officers moved uneasily and glanced over their shoulders. Kronau brushed his forehead, to find it wet.

Madame regretted the surrendering to the impulse. Her haste to triumph was lacking both in dignity and

judgment. She had given the king so little place in her thoughts that the shock of his death confused her. And

there was something in the calm, fearless contempt of the young soldier which embarrassed her.

"In that case, Captain," she said, her voice uncertain and constrained, "bid Monseigneur to wait on me at the

"Whenever that becomes convenient, Madame, Monseigneur will certainly confer with you and your rascally

pack of officers." He longed for some one to spring at him; he longed to strike a blow in earnest.

As he leaned against the door he felt it move. He stepped aside. The door rolled back, and her Royal

Highness, the archbishop and the chancellor passed in. The princess's eyes were like dim stars, but her fine

nostrils palpitated, and her mouth was rigid in disdain. The chancellor looked haggard and dispirited, and he

eyed all with the listlessness of a man who has given up hope. The prelate's face was as finely drawn as an

ancient cameo, and as immobile. He gazed at Madame with one of those looks which penetrate like acid; and,

brave as she was, she found it insupportable. There was a tableau of short duration.

"Madame," said her Royal Highness, with a noble scorn, "what would you say if one desecrated your father's

tomb while you were kneeling beside it? What would you say? In yonder room my father lies dead, and your

presence here, in whatever role, is an insult. Are you, indeed, a woman? Have you no respect for death and

sorrow? Was the bauble so precious to your sight that you could not wait till the last rites were paid to the

dead? Is your heart of stone, your mind devoid of pity and of conscience? Are you lacking in magnanimity,

which is the disposition of great souls? Ah, Madame, you will never be great, for you have stooped to

treachery and deceit. You, a princess! You have purchased with glittering promises that which in time would

have been given to you. And you will not fulfill these promises, for honesty has no part in your affair. Shame

on you, Madame. By dishonorable means you have gained this room. By dishonorable means you destroyed

all those props on which my father leaned. You knew that he had not long to live. Had you come to me as a

woman; had you opened your heart to me and confided your desires Ah, Madame, how gladly would I

have listened. Whatever it signifies to you, this throne is nothing to me. Had you come thenbut, no! you

must come to demand your rights when I am defenseless. You must come with a sword when there is none to

defend. Is it possible that in our veins there runs a kindred blood? And yet, Madame, I forgive you. Rule here,

if you will; but remember, between you and your crown there will always be the shadow of disgrace.

Monsieur," turning toward Fitzgerald, whose shame was so great that it engulfed him, "your father and mine

were friendsI forgive you. Now, Madame, I pray you, go, and leave me with my dead."

To Madame this rebuke was like hot iron on the flesh. It left her without answer. Her proud spirit writhed.

Before those innocent eyes her soul lay bare, offering to the gaze an ineffaceable scar. For the first time she

saw her schemes in their true light. Had any served her unselfishly? Aye, there was one. And strangely

enough, the first thought which formed in her mind when chaos was passed, was of him.

How would this rebuke affect her in his eyes? What was he to her that she cared for his respect, his opinion,

good or bad? What was the meaning of the secret dread? How she hated him for his honesty to her; for now

perforce she must look up to him. She had stepped down from the pinnacle of her pride to which she might

never again ascend. He had kissed her. How she hated him! And yet . . . Ah, the wine was flat, tinctured with

the bitterness of gall, and her own greed had forced the cup to her lips. She could not remain silent before this

"Mademoiselle," she said, "I beg of you to accept my sympathies; but the fortunes of war"

"Ah, Madame," interrupted the prelate, lifting his white, attenuated hand, "we will discuss the fortunes of

Madame choked back the sudden gust of rage. She glanced covertly at the Englishman. But he, with

wideastonished eyes, was staring at the foot of the throne, from which gradually rose a terrible figure,

covered with blood and caked with drying clay. The figure leaned heavily on the hilt of a saber, and swayed

"Ha!" he said, with a prolonged, sardonic intonation, "is that you, Madame the duchess? You are talking of

war? What! and you, my lord the Englishman? Ha! and war? Look at me, Madame; I have been in a battle,

the only one fought today. Look at me! Here is the mark of that friend who watched over your interests. But

where is he? Eh? Where? Did you pick him up on the way? . . . . He is dead. For all that he was a rascal, he

died like a man. . . . . as presently I shall die! Princes and kings and thrones; the one die and the other

crumble, but truth lives on. And you, Madame, have learned the truth. Shame on your mean and little souls!

There was only one honest man among you, and you dishonored him. The Marshal . . . I do not see him. An

honest man dies but once, but a traitor dies a thousand deaths. Kronau . . . . is that your name? It was an

honest one once. And the paltry ends you gain! . . . . The grand duchess of Gerolstein ! . . . . What a comic

opera! Not even music to go by! Eh, you, you Englishman, has Madame made you a Lieutenant?a

Captain?a General? What a farce! Nobles, you? I laugh at you all for a pack of thieves, who are not

content with the purse, but must add honor to the bag. A man is what he makes himself. Medals and clothes,

medals and clothes; that is the sum of your nobility!" He laughed, but the laughter choked in his throat, and

"Madame," said von Mitter, "I will shoot down the first man who lays a hand on Monsieur Carewe."

The princess, her heart beating wildly at the sudden knowledge that lay written on the inner vision, a

Maurice was now in the grasp of the final delirium. "Come on!" he cried; "come on! I will show you how a

brave man can die. Come on, Messieurs Medals and Clothes! Aye, who will go out with me?" He raised the

saber, and it caught the flickering light as it trailed a circle above his head. He stumbled toward them,

sweeping the air with the blade. Suddenly there came a change. He stopped. The wild expression faded from

his face; a surprised look came instead. The saber slipped from his fingers and clanged on the floor. He

turned and looked at the princess, and that glance conveyed to her the burden of his love. "Mademoiselle . . . .

" His knees doubled, he sank, rolled face downward, and a dark stain appeared and widened on the marble

"Go, Madame," said the prelate. "This palace is indeed a tomb." He felt the princess grow limp on his arm.

"Maurice!" cried Fitzgerald, springing to the side of the fallen man. "My God! Maurice!"

Madame, surrounded by her staff and courtiers, sat in the main salon of the Continental Hotel, waiting for the

archbishop. The false, selfseeking ministers of Leopold's reign crowded around her to pay their respects, to

compliment and to flatter her. Already they saw a brilliant court; already they were speculating on their

appointments. Offices were plenty; new embassies were to be created, old embassies to be filled anew.

Madame listened to all coldly. There was a canker in her heart, and no one who saw that calm, beautiful face

of hers dreamed how deeply the canker was eating. There were two men who held aloof from compliments

and flattery. On the face of one rested a moody scowl; on the other, agony and remorse. These two men were

Colonel Mollendorf and Lord Fitzgerald. The same thought occupied each mind; the scene in the throne

The old prelate entered, his head high and his step firm. He appeared to see no one but Madame. But this time

"Monseigneur," she began, "I have come into my own at last. But for you and your ambitious schemes, all

this would not have come to pass. You robbed my father of his throne and set your puppet there instead. By

trickery my father was robbed of his lawful inheritance. By trickery I was compelled to regain it. However, I

do not wish to make an enemy of you, Monseigneur. I have here two letters. They come from Rome. In one is

"Surely not the cardinal's hat," said the prelate. "Listen to me, Madame, for I have something to say to you

which will cause you some reflection. If I had any ambitions, they are gone; if I had any dreams, they have

vanished. Madame, some twenty years ago your duchy was created. It was not done to please Albrecht's

younger brother, the duke, your father. Albrecht was childless. When your father was given the duchy it was

done to exclude forever the house of Auersperg from reigning on this throne. You say that you were tricked;

"This poor king, who lies silent in the palace, was not my puppet. I wished to make him great, and bask in his

greatness. But in that I failed; because Leopold was a poet and a philosopher, and the greatness of earthly

things did not concern him. Leopold and I were dupes of Austria, as you are at this moment, Madame. So

long as Leopold reigned peacefully he was not to be disturbed. Had you shown patience and resignation,

"Madame, you have done exactly as Austria intended you should. There is no longer any kingdom." There

was a subdued triumph in his eyes. "To you," with a gesture toward the courtiers and officeseekers, "to you

I shall say, your own blind self interest has destroyed you. Madame, you are bearing arms not against this

kingdom, but against Austria, since from today this land becomes the property of the imperial crown. If you

struggle, it will be futilely. For, by this move of yours, Austria will declare that this kingdom is a menace to

the tranquility of the confederation. Madame, there is no corner stone to your edifice. This is what I wished

For a moment his auditors were spellbound; then all the emotions of the mind and heart portrayed themselves

"Your Highness," began the Austrian, "his Imperial Majesty commands your immediate evacuation of

Bleiberg, and that you delay not your departure to the frontier. This kingdom is a crown land. It shall remain

so by the consent of the confederation. If you refuse to obey this injunction, an army will enforce the order.

Believe me, Madame, this office is distasteful to me, but it was not avoidable. What disposition am I to

"Monsieur," she said, "I am without choice in the matter. To pit my forces against the emperor's would be

neither politic nor sensible. I submit." There was not a sign of any emotion, no hint of the terrible wrath

which lay below the surface of those politely modulated tones. But it seemed to her as she stood there, the

object of all eyes, that some part of her soul had died. Her pride surmounted the humiliation, the pride of a

"Then, Madame," said the ambassador, suppressing the admiration in his eyes at this evidence of royal

When he had gone, Madame turned coldly to her stricken followers. "Messieurs, the fortunes of war are not

One by one they filed out into the corridors. The orderly was the last to leave, and he closed the door behind

him. Madame surveyed the room. All the curtains were drawn. She was alone. She stood idly fingering the

papers which lay scattered on the table. Suddenly she lifted her hands above her head and clenched them in a

burst of silent rage. A dupe! doubly a dupe! Tomorrow the whole world would laugh at her, and she was

without means of wreaking vengeance. Presently the woman rose above the princess. She sat down, laid her

Fitzgerald stepped from behind one of the curtains. He had taken refuge there during the archbishop's speech.

He had not the strength to witness the final humiliation of the woman he loved. He was gazing out of the

Madame heard the rustle of the curtain and looked up. She sprang to her feet, her eyes blazing.

"You?" she cried. "You? You have dared to hide that you might witness my weakness and my tears? You. . .

"Ah, Madame, we always hate those whom we have wronged. Do not forget that I love you, with a love that

"Why?" in a voice singularly free from agitation. "Because I am the only man who has served you

unselfishly? Is that the reason, Madame? You have laughed at me. I love you. You have broken me. I love

you. I can never look an honest man in the face again. I love you. Though the shade of my father should rise

to accuse me, still would I say that I love you. Madame, will you find another love like mine, the first love of

a man who will know no second? Forgive me if I rejoice in your despair, for your despair is my hope. As a

queen you would be too far away; but in your misfortune you come so near! Madame, I shall follow you

wherever you go to tell you that I love you. You will never be able to shut your ears to my voice; far or near,

you will always hear me saying that I love you. Ambition soars but a little way; love has no fetters. Madame,

"Princesses such as I am do not wed for love. What! you take advantage of my misfortune, the shattering of

"Madame," the pride of his race lighting his eyes, "confess to me that you did not win my love to play with it.

If my heart was necessary to your happiness, which lay in these shattered dreams, tell me, and I will go. My

For reply she sorted the papers and extended a bloodstained packet toward him. "Here, Monsieur, are your

consols." But the moment his hand touched them, she made as though to take them back. On the top of the

packet was the letter she had written to him, and on which he had written his scornful reply to her. She paled

"So, Madame, my love was a pastime?" He came close to her, and his look was like an invisible hand bearing

"No, no!" she cried, yielding to the impulse which suddenly laid hold of her. "Not you! You shall not

misjudge me. No, not you! Those consols were given to me by the woman of your guide, Kopf, who found

them no one knows how. They were given to me this morning. That letter. . . . . I did not intend that you

should see it. No, Monsieur; you shall not misjudge the woman, however you judge the princess. Forgive me,

it was not the woman who sought your love; it was the princess who had need of it.

"I thought it would be but a passing fancy. I did not dream of this end. Tomorrow I shall be laughed at, and I

cannot defend myself as a man can. I must submit; I must smile and cover my chagrin. O, Monsieur, do not

speak to me of love; there is nothing in my heart but rage and bitterness. To stoop as I have stooped, and in

vain! I am defeated; I must remain passive; like a whipped child I am driven away. Talk not of love to me. I

am without illusion." She fell to weeping, and to him she was lovelier in her tears than ever in her smiles. For

would she have shown this weakness to any but himself, and was it not a sign that he was not wholly

"Madame, what is it?" he cried, on his knees before her. "What is it? Do you wish a crown? Find me a

kingdom, and I will buy it for you. Be mine, and woe to those who dare to laugh! Ah, could I but convince

you that love is above crowns and kingdoms, the only glimpse we have on earth of Paradise. There is no

boundary to the dreams; no horizons; a vast, beautiful wilderness, and you and I together. There are no

storms, no clouds. Ambition, the god of schemes, finds no entrance. Ah, how I love you! Your face is ever

before me, waking or sleeping. All thoughts are merged into one, and that is of you. Self has dropped out of

my existence. Forget that you are a princess; remember only that you are a woman, and that I love you."

Love has the key to eloquence. Madame forgot her vanished dreams; the bitterness in her heart subsided. That

mysterious, indefinable thrill, which every woman experiences when a boundless love is laid at her feet,

passed through her, leaving her sensible to a delicious languor. This man was strong in himself, yet weak

before her, and from his weakness she gained a visible strength. Convention was nothing to him; that she was

of royal blood was still less. What other man would have dared her wrath as he had done?

Nobility, she thought, was based on the observance of certain laws. Around the central star were lesser stars,

from which the central star drew its radiance. Whenever one of these stars deviates from its orbit, the glory of

the central star is diminished. To accept the love of the Englishman would be a blow to the pride of Austria.

"Monsieur," she said, in a hesitating voice, "Monsieur, I am indeed a woman. You ask me if I can forget that

I offered you my lips? No. Nor do I wish to. Why did I permit you to kiss me? I do not know. I could not

analyze the impulse if I tried. Monsieur, I am a woman who demands much from those who serve her. I am

capricious; my moods vary; I am unfamiliar with sentiment; I hate oftener than I love. Listen. There is a

canker in my heart, made there by vanity. When it healswellmayhap you will find the woman you

desire. Mind you, I make no promises. Follow me, if you will, but have patience; love me if you must, but in

silence;" and with a gesture which was not without a certain fondness, she laid her hand upon his head.

Into the princess's own chamber they carried Maurice, and laid him on the white bed. Thus would she have it.

No young man had ever before entered that sacred chapel of her maiden dreams. Beside the bed was a small

priedieu; and she knelt upon the cushion and rested her brow against the crucifix. The archbishop covered

his eyes, and the state physician bent his head. Chastity and innocence at the feet of God; yet, not even these

can hold back the fleeting breath of life. She asked God to forgive her the bitterness in her heart; she prayed

for strength to repel the weakness in her limbs. Presently she rose, an angelic sweetness on her face. She

looked down at Maurice; there was no sign of life, save in the fitful drawing in of the nether lip. She

"No, your Highness," said the physician. "He has perhaps an hour. Extraordinary vitality alone is the cause of

his living so long. He has lost nearly all the blood in his body. It was a frightful wound. He is dying, but he

The archbishop, with somber eyes, contemplated the pale, handsome face, which lay motionless against the

pillow. His thoughts flew back to his own youth, to the long years which had filled the gap between. Friends

had come and gone, loved ones vanished; and still he stood, like an oak in the heart of a devastated forest,

alone. Why had he been spared, and to what end? Ah, how old he was, how very old! To live beyond the

allotted time, was not that a punishment for some transgression? His eyes shone through a mist of tears.

The princess, too, contemplated the face of the dying man. How many times had that face accompanied her in

her dreams! How familiar she was with every line of it, the lips, that turned inward when they smiled; the

certain lock of hair that fell upon the forehead! And yet, she had seen the face in reality less than half a dozen

times. Why had it entered so persistently into her dreams? Why had the flush risen to her cheeks at the

thought? At another time she would have refused to listen to the voice which answered; but now, as the

object of her thoughts lay dying on her pillow, her mind would not play truant to her heart. Sometimes the

approach of love is so imperceptible that it does not provoke analysis. We wake suddenly to find it in our

hearts, so strong and splendid that we submit without question. . . . All, all her dreams had vanished, the latest

and the fairest. Across the azure of her youth had come and gone a vague, beautiful flash of love. The door of

earthly paradise had opened and closed. That delicate string which vibrates with the joy of living seemed

parted; her heart was broken, and her young breast a tomb. With straining eyes she continued to gaze. The

invisible arms of her love clasped Maurice to her heart and held him there. Only that day he had stood before

her, a delight to the eye; and she had given him her hand to kiss. How bravely he had gone forth from the

city! She had followed him with her ardent gaze until he was no longer to be seen. And now he lay dying. . . .

"Monsieur," she said, turning to the physician, "I have something to say to Monseigneur."

"Father," she said to the prelate, "I have no secrets from you." She pointed to Maurice. "I love him. I know

not why. He comes from a foreign land; his language nor his people are mine, and yet the thought of him has

filled my soul. I have talked to him but four different times; and yet I love him. Why? I can not tell. The mind

has no power to rule the impulse of love. Were he to live, perhaps my love would be a sin. Is it not strange,

father, that I love him? I have lost parental love; I am losing a love a woman holds priceless above all others.

He is dying because of me. He loves me. I read it in his eyes just before he fell. Perhaps it is better for him

and for me that he should die, for if he lived I could not live without him. Father, do I sin?"

"I have been so lonely," she said, "so alone. I craved the love of the young. He was so different from any man

At this moment Maurice's breast rose and fell in a long sigh. Presently the lids of his eyes rolled upward.

Consciousness had returned. His wandering gaze first encountered the sad, austere visage of the prelate.

"I am dying. . . . God has my account and he will judge it. I am not a Catholic, Monseigneur." He turned his

head. "Your Highness?" He roved about the room with his eyes and discerned the feminine touch in all the

"You are in my room, Monsieur," she said. Her voice broke, but she met his eyes with a brave smile. "Is there

"Nothing. I am alone. To die. . . . Well, one time or another. And yet, it is a beautiful world, when we but

learn it, full of color and life and love. I am young; I do not wish to die. And now . . . even in the midst . . . to

go . . . where? Monseigneur, I am dying; to me princes and kings signify nothing. That is not to say that they

ever did. In the presence of death we are all equal. Living, I might not speak; dying . . . since I have but a

Her lips quivered and she made no secret of her tears. "What is it you wish to say to me, Monsieur Carewe?"

"Ah, I know not how to begin," he said. "Forgive me if I offend your ears. . . . I have been foolish even to

dream of it, but I could not help it. . . . When first I saw you in the garden . . the old dog was beside you. . . .

Even then it came to me that my future was linked to the thought of you. I did not know you were so far

beyond. . . . I was very cold, but I dared not let you know it, for fear you would lead me at once to the gate.

That night wherever I looked I saw you. I strove to think of some way to serve you, but I could not. I was so

obscure. I never thought that you would remember me again; but you did. . . That afternoon in the carriage . .

. I wanted to tell you then. That rose you dropped . . . it is still on my heart. I loved you, and to this end. And I

am glad to die, for in this short fortnight I have lived. . . . My mother used to call me Maurice . . . to hear a

"Speak to him from your heart, my child," said the prelate. "It will comfort you both."

Suddenly she drooped and the tears fell upon the hand in hers. "Maurice," she whispered, "you have not loved

in vain." She could utter no more; but she raised her head and looked into his eyes, and he saw the glory of

"Into still waters and silence," he said softly. "No more pain, nor joy, nor love; silence. . . . You love me! . . .

Alexia; how often have I repeated that name to myself. . . . I have not strength to lift your hand to my lips."

"God guard your Highness," he said. "It is dark. . . . I do not see you. . . . "

He tried to raise himself, but he could not. He sank back, settled deeply into the pillow, and smiled. After that