Books: The Puppet Crown
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Harold MacGrath >> The Puppet Crown
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"There was nothing in the gun-barrels," 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 archbishop got them? I wish I knew.
That's all there is to the story."
"And her Royal Highness's dog?" slyly.
"What! Did you hear about that?" Maurice flushed.
"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."
"Madame has no love for me," said Maurice.
"Madame has no love for any one, if that will give you any
satisfaction."
"It does. My lord the Englishman came near striking me last night."
"I would not lay that up against him. Madame was the power
behind the throne."
"And the impulse behind Madame?" smiling.
"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 says to him, if
he loves her."
"Let us avoid dissertations."
"What do you want to talk about?"
"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?"
"It is not exactly what I've done; it is what I know."
"What do you know?"
Maurice repeated the story.
"And you bested him at the rapiers?" in astonishment.
"Is there anything startling about it?" asked Maurice.
"He has no match hereabout." The Colonel looked across the table
at the smooth-faced boy-- he was scarcely else--and reflected.
"Why did you give up the army?"
"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, an officer is always on dress parade."
"Still, we are always ready. In the past we show up pretty well
in history. But to return to Beauvais, it is very embarrassing, very."
"It will be for him, if I live long enough."
"Eh?"
"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 nothing--now. 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 and soul."
"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 to-day, which is not likely."
"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 going to
share my dinner with you to-night. I'll try to brighten you up a
bit."
"Thanks."
"Then after dinner we'll play poker until they come to take you
to Brunnstadt."
"What sort of a city is it?"
"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 the table. They put
new candles in the bayonets.
"Ha!" said the Colonel; "you have forgotten the wine, rascals!"
"Bring a dozen bottles," Maurice suggested, having an idea in
mind.
"Eh?"
"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 you only might sniff a mint julep!"
"A dozen bottles, then," said the Colonel to the servants, who
retired to execute the order.
"How old will it be?" asked Maurice.
"Twice your age, my son. But do not make any miscalculation
about my capacity for tokayer."
"Any miscalculation?" Maurice echoed.
"Yes; if you plan to get me drunk. There are no troopers about,
and it would be easy enough for you to slip out if I should lose
my head."
Maurice's laugh had a false ring to it. The Colonel had made a
very shrewd guess.
"Well!" said the Colonel, with a gesture toward the table.
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 was likely to be on the other foot.
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, much to Maurice's wonder.
"Why, you know the game as thoroughly as an Arizona corporal."
"I generally spend a month of the winter in Vienna. One of your
compatriots taught me the interesting game." The Colonel
shuffled the cards. "It is the great American game, so I am told."
"O, they play checkers in the New England states," said Maurice,
hiccoughing slightly. "But out west and in all the great cities
poker has the way."
"What have you got?" asked the Colonel, answering a call.
"Jacks full."
"Takes the pot;" and this Americanism came so naturally that
Maurice roared.
"Poker is a great preliminary study to diplomacy," said the
Colonel, as he scrutinized his hand. "You raise it?"
"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 the shrewdest player in the diplomatic
circles. Let's make it a jackpot."
"All the same to me."
And the game went on. Presently Maurice threw aside his coat. He
was feeling the warmth of the wine, but he opened another bottle.
"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.
"What did you have?"
"Nothing. I was trying to fill a straight."
"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 around--the Colonel
had admitted as much. He began talking rapidly, sometimes
incoherently. In a corner of the room he saw the cords which had
been around his wrists and ankles the night before.
"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 to-night;
and in an hour you start."
An hour! There was fever in Maurice's veins, but it was not
caused wholly by the heat of the wine. How should he manage it?
He must have that revolver.
"Call? What have you got?" asked the Colonel.
"Three kings--no, by George! only a pair. I thought a queen was
a king. My head's beginning to get shaky. Colonel, I believe I
am getting drunk."
"I am sure of it."
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 kicked them about.
"Sh!" cried the Colonel, coming around the table; "you'll
stampede the horses."
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.
"Take off your coat," said Maurice, quietly.
The Colonel complied. "You are not so very drunk just now."
"No. It was one of those bluffs when you make them think you
haven't them when you have."
"What next?" asked the Colonel.
"Those cords in the corner."
The Colonel picked them up, sat down and gravely tied one around
his ankles. Maurice watched him curiously. The old fellow was
rather agreeable, he thought.
"Now," the Colonel inquired calmly, "how are you going to tie my
hands? Can you hold the revolver in one hand and tie with the
other?"
"Hang me!" exclaimed Maurice, finding himself brought to a halt.
"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 this preamble puzzles you."
Certainly Maurice's countenance expressed nothing less than
perplexity. He stepped back a few paces.
"You have," continued the Colonel, "perhaps three-quarters of an
hour. You will be able to get out of here. You will have to
depend on your resources to cross the frontier."
"Would you just as soon explain to me--"
"It means that a certain young lady, like myself, believes in
your innocence."
"The countess?" Maurice cried eagerly, remembering the look of
the night before and the tears which were in it.
"I will not mention any names. Suffice it to say that it was due
to her pleading that I consented to play poker--and to let you
fall into my arms. Come, to work," holding out his hands.
First Maurice clasped the hand and wrung it. "Colonel, I do not
want you to get into trouble on my account--"
"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."
"But they'll wonder how I tied you--"
"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 strike northeast. If you run into any sentries it will
be your own fault."
"And the army?"
"The army? Who the devil has said anything about the army?"
"I heard it go past last night."
"Humph! Keep to the right of the pass. Now, quick, before my
conscience speaks above a whisper."
"I should like to see the countess."
"You will--if you reach Bleiberg by to-morrow night."
Maurice needed no further urging, and soon he had the Colonel
securely bound and silenced. Next he put on the Colonel's hat
and coat, and examined the revolver.
"It was very kind of you to load it, Colonel."
The Colonel blinked his eyes.
"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 tell at the
clubs when he once more regained his Vienna! Would he regain it?
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 vain for an answering noise. He got up and went on.
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 trooper's face which precluded any
arguing.
"If you move," the trooper said, in a mild voice; "if you utter
a sound, I'll blow off the top of your cursed head!"
CHAPTER XXIV
THE PRISONER OF THE RED CHATEAU
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 turned sullenly and started to walk away,
expecting to be followed.
"Halt! Where the devil are you going?"
"Why, back to your cursed chateau!" Maurice answered surlily.
The strange trooper laughed discordantly. "Back to the chateau?
I think not. Now, then, right about face--march! 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;
that is why I want your company. Now march."
But Maurice did not march; he was filled with curiosity. "Are
you a trooper in Madame the duchess's household?" he asked.
"No, curse you!"
"Who are you, then?"
"Come, come; this will not pass. No tricks; you have been
following me these twenty minutes."
"The deuce I have!" exclaimed Maurice, bewildered. "To Bleiberg,
is it?"
"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.
"No place else."
"Are you a spy?" menacingly.
"No more than you."
"But that uniform!"
"I fancy yours looks a good deal like it," Maurice replied
testily.
"I confess I never saw you before, and your tongue has a foreign
twist," with growing doubt.
"I am sure I never saw you before, nor want to see you again."
"What are you doing in that uniform?"
"You have the advantage of me; suppose you begin the
introduction?"
"Indeed I have the advantage of you, and propose to maintain it.
Who are you and what are you doing here? Answer!"
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. Maurice briefly acquainted the young man
with his name and position.
"And you?" he asked.
"I?" The young man laughed again. It was an unpleasant laugh.
"Never mind who I am. Let us go, we are losing time. What is the
date?" suddenly.
"The twentieth of September," answered Maurice.
"My God, a day too late!" The young man had an attack of vertigo,
and was obliged to lean against a tree for support. "Are you
telling me the truth about yourself?"
"I am. I myself was attempting to dispense with the questionable
hospitality of the Red Chateau--good Lord!" striking his
forehead.
"What's the matter?"
"Are you the mysterious prisoner of the chateau, the man they
have been keeping at the end of the east corridor on the third
floor?"
"Yes. And woe to the woman who kept me there! How came you
there?"
Maurice, confident that something extraordinary was taking place,
related in synopsis his adventures.
"And this cursed Englishman?"
"Will drain a bitter cup. Madame is playing with him."
"And the king; is he dead?"
"He is dying." Maurice's wonder grew. What part had this strange
young man in this comedy, which was rapidly developing into a
tragedy?
"And her Highness--her 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 have saved the throne has deserted her
like a coward. Hang him, I say!"
"What do they say?" The tones were hollow.
"They say he is enamoured of a peasant girl, and dallies with
her, forgetting his sacred vows, his promised aid, and perhaps
even this, his wedding day."
"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 picked up his revolver
and waited.
"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, too,
deserted her!" He broke down again.
"An army!" cried Maurice.
"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 the woman I love!"
"You?" Maurice retreated a step. The silver moonshine became
tinged with red.
"I am Prince Frederick, and I love her Highness. I would
sacrifice a thousand kingdoms to spare her a moment's sorrow. I
have always loved her."
"What a woman!" Maurice murmured, as the scheme of Madame's
flashed through his mind. "What a woman! And she had the
audacity to kidnap you, too!"
"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 duchy
of hers, though in the end the emperor crush me. Let us be off."
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 extreme physical endurance?
"I am so weak," said the prince, "so pitiably weak! I thought to
frighten the woman by starving myself, poor fool that I was!"
And they went on again. Maurice was beginning to feel the effect
of his wine-bibbing; he had a splitting headache.
"Silence!" he suddenly whispered, sinking and dragging the
prince with him.
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.
"You have been a soldier?" he asked.
"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, turbulent and impassable.
"We shall have to risk the pass," said Maurice, gloomily;
"though heaven knows how we are to get through it. We have ten
shots between us."
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