The next day they left Paris. Almost the first person Trusia espied at the railroad station was General Vladimar, a stately young aide, and the Casper Haupt of yesterday. Carter felt a thrill of recognition for the latter; he was the passer-by of the night before who had received Josef's signal, and, yes, it was the man who had met the Hereditary Servitor in the moonlit shadow of the porch.

The General bustled forward with easy appearance of boisterous friendliness. The group split; the King was adroitly surrounded by Sobieska, Muhlen-Sarkey and Carter, while Trusia and Sutphen advanced to meet and check the too curious Russian.

He smiled blandly as he tacitly acknowledged to himself that he had been gracefully repulsed in one direction. Glancing at the baggage of the party, he bent over Trusia's hand with almost real deference.

"So soon?" he inquired with a gesture toward the trunks. "It is almost as if I was hurrying you off," he laughed. Sutphen was reading what was back of the man's eyes. The Russian seemed so sure of his game that like a cat with a mouse, he played at friendliness. "I am going again to Schallberg, soon," he continued in his same manner of large good nature, "and hope the beastly hole will furnish more excitement this time. Could you arrange it, eh, Colonel?" and he turned smilingly to the troubled Krovitzer.

"We'll try," replied the veteran, "forewarned is always forearmed."

Vladimar assumed a look of gravity. "Let's not speak of arms, good friends, for your—for all our sakes. There's my train! Adieu; bon voyage." Without waiting to see the impression of his words, he left them. They were all conscious of an unrest caused by the Russian's advent. He had mentioned his return to Schallberg; could he know of what was going forward? Trusia summoned the Hereditary Servitor.

That those waiting in Krovitch should be informed of their coming, Josef was directed by her to send an already prepared cipher dispatch. The white-haired servitor did so with commendable alacrity. Assured that the operator had actually transmitted it, he filled in a blank for himself, with the following simple message: "Reach Bregenz Thursday. Be on hand. Josef." Dating it, he handed it to the official. The latter carefully read and reread it, then turned quizzically to Josef.

"A thousand pardons, m'sieu," he said, "but you have given no address."

"How stupid," laughed the old fellow. "It is for Fraulein Julia Haupt, Notions Merchant, 16 Hoffstrasse, Bregenz."

Long before their first objective was reached, the journey had proven exceedingly irksome to one member of the party; while, for the greater part of the time, a conscious restraint held both Trusia and Calvert in a silence broken only when the monotony grew unbearable. Stovik, lost in wonderment at his future regal state, and a trifle awed at the high-bred girl beside him, added but little to the conversation. The Countess Muhlen-Sarkey awoke only when there was a fitful attempt to break the embarrassment which held all the others. The quondam Parisian openly welcomed each stopping-place as an excuse to escape from such uncongenial companionship. In the throngs on the platforms he found both transient excitement and opportunities of stretching his cramped and restless limbs. Josef conscientiously attended him on these brief excursions, never relaxing for an instant his grave watchfulness over his royal charge.

There was a protracted stop at Bregenz. Being at the entrance of the Austrian Tyrol, there followed a rigid frontier examination of baggage. The three men excused themselves to Trusia and descended to the station in order to expedite matters as much as possible by their prompt appearance and presence. Apparently by accident, in the pushing crowd, Josef and his royal charge were separated from Carter, who was temporarily lost to view. Having no apprehension on that score, they gave no heed to his absence, but shouldered their way to the groups about the piled-up trunks where they knew he would rejoin them. After having their belongings properly visÈd, the pair stood watching the panorama of the crowd.

Carter, at last catching sight of his fellow travelers, noted with some apprehension that they were being pretty closely watched by an alert-looking, middle-aged man. Receiving a covert nod from Josef, the latter had disappeared at once into the human medley. With all expedition, therefore, the American rejoined them. He read a question in Josef's eyes which changed into a defiance as the latter read in the newcomer's that the incident had not escaped him.

Just then Stovik caught him by the arm. "Look, Major," he cried, indicating a vivacious Austrienne at no great distance from where they stood, "isn't that a dainty morsel?" Carter turned to see that the woman was freely indulging in an ocular conversation with His Majesty.

"Monsieur," Carter commenced in dignified remonstrance, only to be cut short by a peevish King.

"See here, Carter, official business does not begin until we reach Schallberg. I'll practically be a prisoner for life if all goes well. I am not going to give up without just one more fling at the pomps and vanities of this wicked world."

To emphasize his assertion, he smiled gaily at the pretty woman, whose lips parted in audacious invitation.

"But the Duchess," Carter persisted, frowning.

"That's just it," Stovik replied unblushingly. "I am not accustomed to such women as Her Grace. When near her I have to keep a tight rein on my tongue for fear of being guilty of a faux pas. A pinch of a round cheek, a warm kiss given and returned, an arm about a lithe waist, is what I like. Her Grace is an iceberg."

Carter flushed angrily at the comparison. He restrained with some difficulty the stinging words of rebuke which sprang to his lips in Trusia's defense.

"Oh, I know what you would say," continued the royal scamp. "I admit her patriotism, sacrifices, devotion, and all that sort of thing. Frankly, though, we are too dissimilar ever to get along together. The differences are temperamental. Environment and education have made an insuperable barrier to our mutual happiness."

A hope he could not restrain lighted Carter's face at these careless words. "Do you mean," he inquired gravely, simulating a solemnity he felt but little, "do you mean that you will not marry Her Grace of Schallberg?"

The King, coming close, looked searchingly into Carter's eyes and laughed in faint raillery; he partially understood. His reply was evasive. "It is not every one," he said, "who can gain a throne by marrying a pretty girl." Shrugging his shoulders, he abruptly left his companions and approached the woman, with whom he did not seem to have any difficulty in establishing a cordial relation.

Carter reluctantly retraced his steps to the car. He was joined by Josef. The American nodded his head savagely toward where the monarch could be seen in high glee at his conquest. Taking this, apparently, as an indication that his persuasive offices were desired in that direction, Josef approached his royal master with deferential remonstrance. He touched the elbow of the oblivious King, who instantly turned. Irritated by what he could see of the express disapproval of his conduct in the smug face of the servitor, he inquired harshly what the fellow wanted.

"Beg pardon, m'sieu," stammered the old man, "but the train starts immediately." If Josef's poor efforts had been intended to persuade the return of the King they had been made with but little understanding of the character of the man addressed. The contrary effect was produced.

"So do I," responded His Majesty curtly, annoyed at what he considered an impertinent surveillance. "I shall rejoin the party at Vienna. You may call me when we arrive. Not before." He turned his back upon the discomfited Josef.

Carter, on reentering the car, braced himself to render an acceptable yet plausible excuse for Stovik's absence. The Countess Muhlen-Sarkey was placidly sleeping in the corner. Trusia was sitting with palm-propped chin, gazing straight out of the window. This kept the full view of her face away from such of the party as might chance to enter the car. Carter saw enough, however, to convince him that she had been weeping. One forgotten tear hung tremulously on her lashes as though too reluctant to part with her grief. A fierce resentment seized him. He turned to leave the car, determined to drag back the graceless King by the neck if necessary.

"Don't go," she pleaded as though comprehending his intentions. Unable to refuse her request he sat down beside her.

"Duchess," he began in the alternative of explanation; "His Majesty——"

"Has chosen to ride in another car," she interrupted, loyally unwilling that even he should criticise the King of Krovitch. "It is his right. I, a subject, would not attempt to pass in judgment upon the acts of my sovereign." There was a sad weakening of voice as she completed her defense, which convinced Carter that she had seen the whole disgusting performance.

"Forgive me," he said very gently.

"I saw," she admitted in distress. A woman, urged by pride, she had at first refused his sympathy. Finding pride insufficient for her solace, she now, womanlike, sought what she had refused. The entrance of Josef, at this juncture, however, and the resumption of the journey, deprived Carter of what had been the most propitious moment he had yet had to bind her heart indissolubly to his own.

How much the King had disclosed, how much the woman had discovered, Carter was unable to find out, as Stovik maintained a sulky silence in the face of all inquiries.