  As is usually the case when a man retires before his accustomed hour, the Archduke’s slumber was capricious and broken, finally ending in complete wakefulness and an intense mental activity that defied sleep. At length he switched on the reading lamp beside his bed and looked at his watch. It was only three o’clock. With an exclamation of disgust he got up and dressed, and went down to the library. The draft of Lotzen Castle was not as distinct in his mind as it should be; he would have another careful look at it and then, alone on the ramparts, with plenty of room to walk and think, he would work out the plan of campaign for the morrow. He had put the plan and Jessac’s keys together in the desk, the top drawer on the right.—They were not there—nor in the next one—nor the next—nor the next—they were not in any of them. He searched again, and carefully ... they were gone. He went to the far corner where Major Meux had got the portfolio; its place was empty. He frowned in puzzled irritation; who would have presumed to meddle with them? Moore, possibly, to study the draft, but he would not have taken the keys; they would be wanted only when—— “God! might it be!” he cried aloud, “might it be!” His mind flashed back through the day: Dehra’s solicitude that he should not go to-night—borrow Bernheim—early to bed—a dozen other trifles now most indicative. With a curse at his stupidity, he ran to Moore’s quarters—empty—the bed untouched; then to Bernheim’s—the same there; to De Coursey’s—to Marsov’s—both the same. He burst unannounced into the ante-chamber of the Princess’ apartments, bringing a shriek from each of the sleepy maids. “Your mistress—is she here?” he demanded. “Her Highness retired hours ago, sir,” one of them replied tremblingly, fright still upon her. “But is she there now?—Send Marie here instantly.” The French girl came, wrapped in a long chamber robe. “Is your mistress asleep?” he asked. “Yes, Monsieur le Prince, hours ago.” He reached over and flung back her robe. “Then why are you still dressed and waiting up for her? Don’t lie to me, girl; where is Her Highness?” “Monsieur doubts me?” The Archduke made an angry gesture. “Go to her—say I must speak with her at once.” “Wake the Regent! I dare not, sir.” He pushed her aside and went on into the next room. She sprang after, and caught his hand. “Your Highness!” she cried, “you would not!—you would not!” He seized her by the arm. “You little fool! the truth—the truth—if your mistress isn’t here, she is in awful peril—may be dead.” He shook her almost fiercely. “The truth, I say, the truth!” With a cry the girl sank to the floor. “Peril!—death!” she echoed. “She but went for a ride, sir; I do not understand——” The Archduke was gone; he required no further information. A quarter of an hour later, with thirty of the garrison at his back—all that could be provided with horses—he set out for Lotzen Castle; leaving it for Courtney, whose official position denied him the privilege of going along, to telephone the Commandant at Porgia for troops. “She went to save me, Dick,” he said; “now I will save her or——good-bye,” and the two men had gripped hands hard, then the Archduke rode away. At first, his anger had been hot against Moore and Bernheim, but now that sober second thought was come, he knew that they were not to blame, that the Regent herself had ordered them to the service and to silence. And presently his hope rose at the thought of the one’s skilful sword and sure revolver, and the other’s steady head and calm discretion; together, with De Coursey and Marsov, there might be a chance that the Princess They had been obliged to go slowly down the steep and winding avenue, now he swung into a gallop and the six score hoofs went thundering through the valley, leaving the startled inhabitants staring, and wondering at the strange doings of all who came from the South. But them the Archduke never saw—nor anything, indeed, save the track before him and the light ahead, riding with hands low on the saddle, face set and stern; implacable and relentless as the first Dalberg himself, the day he rescued his lady from that same Castle of Lotzen and hung its Baron in quarters from the gate tower. Only once did the Archduke pause; at the Dreer, a moment to breathe the horses and let them wet their throats. In the darkness he did not see a bunch of horsemen round the turn in front and trot slowly toward him, nor could he hear them for the thrashing of his own horses in the water. The first he knew of them was Colonel Moore’s peremptory hail: “What force is that yonder?” With a shout that rang far into the night, Armand sent his mare bounding through the stream. “The Princess? the Princess?” he cried, “is she safe?” And her own voice answered, joyful and triumphant. “I’m here, Armand, I’m here.” What need to tell what he said, as reining in close he drew her over to him! The words were a bit incoherent, may be, but Dehra understood; and presently she put her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Come, Sire,” she said, “let us go on—and when we get to the Castle, Your Majesty shall have again the Book of Laws.” “The Book! you cannot mean you’ve been in Lotzen Castle?” She laughed her merry little laugh. “And out again—and the Book with us, from under our dear cousin’s very eyes.” “You brave girl!—you foolish child!—you wonder among women!” he marvelled. She put out her hand, and took his; and so they rode, back through the valley and up the avenue to the Castle, and as they went she told him the story of the night. “But better than the Book, sweetheart,” she ended, as they drew up before the entrance, “it saves you for Valeria and for me; had you been there, helpless under his guns, not all the troops in the Kingdom would have held Lotzen’s hand.” “And better than all else,” he said, as he swung her down, “is your own dear self.” “Nonsense,” she replied, “I’m but a woman—you are the Dalberg and a King.... Colonel Moore, bring your package to the library, and summon all our friends.” When they had come, the Princess took the bundle, still wrapped in its black cloth, and handed it to Armand. “Sire,” said she, “the Laws of the Dalbergs—found this night in Lotzen Castle.” Without a word he bent and kissed her hand,—then, laying the package on the desk, he cut the strings and removed the cloth, exposing the big, leather-covered, brass-bound volume. “Read the decree, Sire!” she exclaimed. He opened the book—stopped—turned a page—then slowly closed it. “Suppose we wait, Your Highness, until the Royal Council is present,” he said. But something in his voice alarmed her—she sprang forward, pushed aside his restraining arm, and seized the book. One glance inside—an exclamation of bewildered incredulity; another glance—and the book dropped to the floor. “False!” she cried, “false!” and flung herself across the desk in an hysteria of tears. Instantly Courtney turned and quitted the room, and the rest after him, leaving her and the Archduke alone together. It was evening when the Princess appeared again. She came just as the clock was striking nine, and taking the American Ambassador’s arm, led the way in to dinner, which here was en famille, and without any ceremony of the Court. “Tell me, Mr. Courtney, that I don’t look quite so foolish as I feel,” she laughed. He let his eyes linger on her—this lovely woman who was a nation’s toast—the imperially poised head, with the glorious, gleaming hair, and the haughty, high-bred face that, when she willed, could be so sweet and tender; the slender, rounded figure in its soft white gown of clinging silk—he shook his gray head. “If you feel as you look,” he answered, “you are not of this world, but of Paradise.” “O——h, monsieur! and Lady Helen just across the table.” He fingered his imperial a moment, then leaned close. “Helen is an angel, too,” he said. “You mean—?” she exclaimed. He smiled. “Yes, I mean—on our ride this afternoon—but don’t tell it, now.” She took his hand low under the board. “I’m so glad,” she said; “Helen’s a dear—and so are you.” Then she gave a little laugh. “This seems to have been a rather busy afternoon for Cupid.” “Another?—Mlle. d’EssoldÉ and Moore?” She nodded. “Yes, but not a word of it, either—not even to Helen,” quizzically. “No, not even to Helen,” he said with well affected gravity, his lips twitching the while. A footman entered and passed a note to Colonel Bernheim, but the Princess’ eyes had caught the pink of the envelope and she knew it was a wire, and of exceeding importance to be brought there now—and it was for the Archduke; if it were for her, Moore would have got it. Chatting gayly with Courtney, she yet watched Bernheim, as he read the message, holding it down, out of sight. It seemed to be very brief, for almost instantly he glanced at the Archduke—hesitated—then sent it to him. “What is it, Armand?” she said, as he took it. “What has Lotzen done now?” “Why Lotzen?” he laughed, spreading the sheet on the cloth before them. It was dated Dornlitz:—
“I don’t understand,” said she. “Neither do I,” he answered; “that’s the trouble with our cousin, he is always doing queer things.” “But he was at Lotzen Castle this morning.” “And is in Dornlitz now;—” he shoved the wire across to Courtney.—“Dick, what do you make of this—what’s doing now?” Courtney read it, then stared thoughtfully into his wine glass, twirling it slowly the while, the amber bubbles streaming upward. “I make enough of it,” he said, “to urge that you hurry back to the Capital. The false Book was intended primarily to lure you here, where you could be killed more easily, but its purpose also was to get you away from Dornlitz. The first failed, because Her Highness forced Lotzen’s hand so quickly he was unprepared; the second, however, has won,—he has eluded you. I have always insisted that he hasn’t the Book, but now I am persuaded that he knows where it is, and has gone for it.” “Let us go, Armand!” the Princess exclaimed—“let us go instantly.” He put his hand on her arm. “We will go, dear,” he said—“see—” and turning over the sheet, he wrote:— “Epping, “Dornlitz.
“Yes,” said the Princess, “and add that he is to call the Royal Council for half after ten at the Summer Palace.—I’m going to give Lotzen a chance to explain a few things.” |
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