. L
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA
 
 THE QUEEN 
 OF KARMANIA 
 
 BY 
 
 MARIE VAN VORST 
 
 AUTHOR OF "FAIRFAX AND His PRIDE," "TRADITION," 
 "Bio TREMAINE," ETC. 
 
 BOSTON 
 SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1922 
 
 BY SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 
 (INCORPORATED) 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 
 THE MURRAY PRINTING COMPANY 
 CAMBRIDGE, MASS.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 I. Stephen Crossdale Answers the Call of 
 
 the SoH 1 
 
 II. Crossdale Hears the Hammers on the 
 
 Dome 7 
 
 III. Prince John Orders Caviare and Cross- 
 
 dale Translates a Song 16 
 
 IV. Jeff Makes His Protest Against Autoc- 
 
 racy 28 
 
 V. He Discovers How Dangerous It Is 
 Sometimes to Make Too Good a First 
 Impression ' 39 
 
 VI. Crossdale's Glass Is Small But It Is His 
 
 Own and He Drinks from It * 52 
 
 VII. To Always Keep in Mind the Reason 
 for One's Journey and to be Able to . 
 Forget the Inn Beds Are Two of the 
 Attributes of the Good Traveler. . . .' 65 
 VIII. He Learns That He Has Fallen in Love 
 with a Mere Woman, with no His- 
 tory Worth Recalling 78 
 
 IX. If He Signs the Contract It Will Not Be . 
 
 for the Future of Karmania 88 
 
 X. Prince Sarvan Displays the Fervor of 
 
 the Boys of 76 .7.. 102 
 
 XI. He Answers the Call of the Wild . .'7. . 109 
 XII. He Comes Face to Face with the 
 
 Intrigues of a Patriot 120 
 
 XIII. Crossdale Proves His Sporting Blood. . 126 
 
 XIV. Crossdale Sees a ScreenyPicture . . 132 
 
 " v 
 
 2138551
 
 VI 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 XV. And Sees the Capital from the 
 
 Heights 135 
 
 XVI. Crossdale Is in His Brown Tower 142 
 
 XVII. -And the Queen was in Her Parlor 148 
 XVIII. In a Strange Country a Roof-tree and a 
 Loaf of Bread Are Not Sufficient. 
 
 (Karmanian Proverb) 159 
 
 XIX. The Morning Bird Asks a Question of 
 the Day Which the Night Bird 
 
 Answers 165 
 
 XX. When a Man Signs a Contract for the 
 Sake of a Woman, He Imperils the 
 Inheritance. (Karmanian Proverb) 172 
 XXI. He Finds An Empty Nest, but He 
 
 Traps a Fox 184 
 
 XXII. The Queen Inverts the Proverb : ' ' Love 
 
 Me Love My Dog " 193 
 
 XXIII. Crossdale Is Royally Commanded to 
 
 Drink a Cup of Tea 202 
 
 XXIV. At the Queen's Lodge " Sometime in 
 
 November " 211 
 
 XXV. A Woman in Love Fears Danger for 
 Her Lover, Whereas His Greatest 
 Danger Is Herself. (Karmanian 
 
 Proverb.) 219 
 
 XXVI. Korvan Receives a Sinister Invitation 
 to Pass a Week-end with the Prime 
 
 Minister 229 
 
 XXVII. Only the Confident and the Despairing 
 Know How to Wait. (Karmanian 
 
 Proverb.) 239 
 
 XXVIII. When Your Neighbor's Wife Has Honey 
 and Fire on Her Lips, a Wise Man 
 Waits Till Her Husband Goes on a 
 Journey. (Karmanian Proverb.). . . 246
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 vu 
 
 Chapter 
 
 XXIX. Any Woman May Become a Queen, but 
 a Queen May Not Always Be a 
 Woman. (Karmanian Proverb.). . . 254 
 XXX. A Peacock's Feather Brings Good Luck 
 to a Sailor, Bad Luck to a Man 
 Whose Wife Is Away from Home, 
 and Sight to the Blind. (Karmanian 
 
 Proverb.) 264 
 
 XXXI. The Earl of Moray Goes Staun'in' 
 
 Through the Town 277 
 
 XXXII. When the Boya-Duc Comes from the 
 Far Country the Woman Will Dance 
 with Him Though It Be over Her 
 Husband's Grave. (Karmanian 
 Proverb.) 287 
 
 XXXIII. Mr. Rat Comes to Town 296 
 
 XXXIV. Karmania Has Her Waterways and 
 
 Crossdale a Rendezvous 301 
 
 XXXV. " Heljen: The Queen " 309 
 
 XXXVI. The Cup at the Lips 317 
 
 XXXVII. Zito's Blood Token 327 
 
 XXXVIII. Ammetaro 335 
 
 XXXIX. " I Will Give Him That Which I Have 
 
 Kept for Him/' 346
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 STEPHEN CROSSDALE ANSWERS THE CALL OF THE SOIL 
 
 He was riding slowly home ; going back to a lonely house, 
 to as much a home as a man can make without a woman. 
 He could see the red roof of his own bungalow glowing 
 out above the pepper trees, and below him as he rode the 
 land was a riot of color, luxuriance and beauty. Bare- 
 headed, his reins wound round his wrist, his hands in the 
 pockets of his loose coat, he rode slowly, the light of the 
 sunset glowing on his face and in his eyes. His mare, 
 with head hung down, picked her way softly along the 
 trail. Everything about the ranchman, from the light 
 touch of his foot in the stirrup to the bare dark head and 
 smiling mouth, his agreeable eyes and relaxed body, spoke 
 contentment with life. He reflected the spirit and the joy 
 of living. The foothills, purple, pink and blue, sweeping 
 up to the heights, crimsoned and paled, and as he rode, 
 Stephen Crossdale left behind him the fragrant forests of 
 live oaks and the tall dark pines. The sage brush seemed 
 painted by the brushes of the sunset and made a brilliant 
 corridor for him to follow along the homeward trail. 
 
 There would be nothing novel to greet him down there 
 in his red-roofed bungalow, with the bougainvillaea vine 
 staining its walls like blood. A supper set for him on the 
 porch, a devoted negro-servant, who existed to make his
 
 2 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 master's life smooth, every comfort throughout the long, 
 low house that a bachelor had a right to expect all this 
 he knew he would find. But there was no one to share 
 his bed and his board. His land was a paradise; he was 
 alone in it; he was alone to know the thrilling delight in 
 twilights and nights like this. Physically tired after a long 
 day in the open, he was going back to solitude. How long 
 would it be possible for him to ignore his need of The 
 Woman? 
 
 That afternoon, when he had started home after his 
 "round-up", he had looked in through the window of a 
 derelict building on a deserted ranch. There was a country 
 dance on, and the temptation to Crossdale to go in and 
 share the fun had been too great to be resisted. Dancing 
 was only one of the many forms of exercise he liked. To 
 the music of a third-rate gramophone Stephen danced three 
 times with a pretty little country girl, with big dark eyes 
 and an appealing mouth. Then he had launched out and 
 unhitched his mare from the post where he had tied her 
 and started on his way. He softly whistled the dance-tune. 
 His mare pricked up her ears and he gathered up his reins. 
 Woman he had pretty well cut out of his life. He was 
 fatuous enough to fancy one of these days it would be 
 his good luck to find the perfect woman; he was waiting. 
 A keen sportsman, successful in his profession, with plenty 
 of money and tastes to gratify, he had until now passed 
 his life agreeably and well. Several years before the war 
 he had made his reputation in the engineering world, in 
 laying out the Texas, Oklahoma and New Mexico Railway. 
 He tunnelled the Alleghanys. And when the American 
 engineering force came back from France, Stephen Cross-
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 3 
 
 dale returned with it with a pair of lungs sufficiently 
 affected by gas to require a renovation by oxygen. He had 
 put a lot of money into cattle-raising in California and 
 had never taken the time personally to work his ranch. 
 Now, in these months of open-air life, and in the beauty 
 and in the aloofness, he had fallen in love with California 
 and with his new occupation. 
 
 There was no reason any longer why he should not go 
 back to maps, charts, surveying, railroad contracts, hy- 
 draulics, dynamos and the rest of it, but he lingered. He 
 could not make up his mind to break his dream. During 
 his two years in California he had become widely known 
 and much liked, and besides the interest in his life, cattle 
 and horses, he had taken over contracts for the irrigation 
 of the upper plains. There was a human element in the 
 rough, wild country. He had been a leader all his life and 
 he liked his kind. 
 
 Now a sound from behind made him turn abruptly, to 
 face a Greaser, who had been following him stealthily. 
 Crossdale like a flash covered him with his gun and both 
 were on their feet facing each other the next moment. The 
 fellow, head taller than ,the ranchman, one of those miser- 
 able crosses between Mexican and white, where the meaner 
 qualities of both races seem to meet and breed dirt, was 
 crazed with jealousy and drink. 
 
 "You cursed engineer! That little girl at Two Forks 
 Ranch belongs to me! See? What you done to her? She 
 won't have me!" 
 
 Before he had hardly finished, Crossdale, with one blow 
 of his left arm and clenched fist, knocked the gun from the 
 Greaser's hand; it fell, crashing; and with his right hand
 
 4 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 he struck him full on the mouth. Then, before the Mexican 
 could respond, Crossdale covered him with his gun. 
 on your horse in double quick time, and go back to yen 
 1 1 
 
 The man was livid. Crossdale's blow had been efficient 
 The half-breed, cursing him and hating him with a real 
 lover's hate, covered his mouth with his hand. Crossdale 
 could hardly hear his invectives, rendered almost unin- 
 telligible by his swelling mouth; but he cursed Crossdale 
 for a gentleman, a white-livered business man, mounted, 
 and with his eyes on the live, nonchalant figure of the 
 rancher, he retired, cursing, beaten. 
 
 When he was out of sight, Crossdale lowered his gun. He 
 smiled. He envied this jealous lover, who had ridden hot 
 on the trail because he had danced with a soft-eyed, pretty 
 girl He wanted to be a jealous, demanding lover, too, 
 with the right to suffer and the right to enjoy. 
 
 He came along slowly toward the porch of his bungalow, 
 and heard his negro manservant singing. Upstairs in his 
 den were photographs of attractive women whose passing 
 through his life at different times had been marked by more 
 or less romance and disillusion. But on this night, when 
 he had finished dressing, he went over to his desk and 
 opened an old portfolio, full of scraps and bits of things, 
 dating back to his college days. He went painstakingly 
 through a lot of stuff until he came upon a foreign photo- 
 graph, taken in a fashionable London studio in Dover 
 Street, bearing the name of a court photographer. He had 
 seen it in Boston among a collection of foreign beauties 
 when he was in his freshman year at Yale. The grave, 
 lovely face had charmed him, and after studying it from
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 5 
 
 the other side of the shop window finally he went in and 
 bought the photo. 
 
 The young girl, not more than sixteen years of age, was 
 Princess Something or other; Crossdale did not know 
 which princess, or of what country, but he did not care. 
 She was a mere child, her hair plaited down her back, a 
 school girl in a simple frock, her lovely hands clasped 
 meekly before her. The purity of the lines of the face, 
 the candid, inquiring eyes, the grace in short, her un- 
 likeness to any woman or type of woman Crossdale had yet 
 seen, fascinated the college man. 
 
 It has yet to be proved that one cannot fall in love 
 with a picture, and this grave-eyed princess smiled at Cross- 
 dale from his chimney piece thereafter throughout his col- 
 lege course. She became a real person to him; he brought 
 to her the stories of his perplexities and his youthful suc- 
 cesses; whatever problems he had to face, he faced them 
 under her eyes, smoking his pipe with his arm upon the 
 chimney shelf. She could never mean anything to him; 
 he would never know who she was, in all probability. For- 
 eign royalties play small part in the life of American youth. 
 But she had her day and her power; she made him dream 
 all any woman should hope to do who is unknown and 
 unnamed. Then Crossdale went into real life and real 
 things; there were other photographs and pictures, with 
 flesh and blood realities back of them, and this photo- 
 graph was forgotten in an old portfolio, with other scraps 
 and mementoes. 
 
 Tonight he wanted to find her again. The little girl at 
 the dance had made him think of the unknown princess. 
 He turned the picture over. There was not even a pencilled
 
 6 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 name on the back to reveal her identity. She would be a 
 woman now, a stunning woman! He stood the picture 
 up on his dressing-table and went downstairs, whistling 
 the tune of the fox-trot to which he had danced over at 
 the ranch with the Greaser's sweetheart. 
 
 On the porch, waiting for him, he found his negro 
 servant, a pail of cracked ice in one hand and a napkin 
 thrown over his arm. Several years before Crossdale had 
 beguiled this snowy-toothed African to throw up his job 
 on a Pullman car on the Pennsylvania Limited and to come 
 to him as useful man; but Jeff Robinson never lost the 
 stamp and unmistakable atmosphere of the train-service 
 man. Crossdale had a feeling sometimes that he would 
 fetch a whisk broom out of his pocket and brush him off. 
 
 "Mister Crossdale, suh, de supper am ready." And 
 Jeff never announced "De supper am ready," or "Dinner 
 am served" without his master mentally adding "In the 
 dining carl"
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 CROSSDALE HEARS THE HAMMERS ON THE DOME 
 
 His ranch had never seemed so intolerably lonely to him 
 before tonight. He had been a fool to dance with that little 
 soft-eyed girl. As he passed through his living-room he 
 almost fancied that she ran before him, disappearing tan- 
 talizingly up the stairs. 
 
 When he came out on to the porch an hour later, over 
 plains and foothills and rose-gardens, over bay trees, Italian 
 cypresses and geranium hedges, the moonlight spilled its 
 honey-like gold. He expected no delightful surprise to greet 
 him on his return home; only his solitary supper spread 
 on a small table in the open waited for him. 
 
 The negro, Jeff Robinson, was the king-pin of the ranch 
 and lorded it over the Mexican servants by virtue of phys- 
 ical force. When one of the Greasers got on his suscep- 
 tible nerves Jeff beat him up and threw him out. Now the 
 negro, from behind his master's chair, watched him eat 
 with benevolent delight. 
 
 " 'Frisco's bin tryin' to get yo' on de 'phone all day, 
 Mister Crossdale." 
 
 "Mighty glad they didn't." 
 
 Jefferson Robinson's chuckle was discreetly covered. He 
 had but one desire in life to get back to the town; but 
 did not dare broach the subject to Crossdale, who was de- 
 veloping an inordinate adoration for the open.
 
 8 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 "Coin' out to toss yo' up a few banana fritters, suh," 
 and the African slipped away on his flat, willing feet. 
 
 Left alone, Crossdale stretched himself, fingered his glass 
 of whiskey and water, and looked into the flooding serenity 
 of the peerless night. He was fated tonight to be pursued 
 by a haunting picture of an ideal companion. He smoked, 
 musing of women he had known, unable to imagine one of 
 them queen of this realm. The only way to reach his 
 bungalow was by the trail from the foothills; to get back to 
 civilization meant a two days' ride and one night's sleep at 
 Monterey. 
 
 His former associate, Caleb Storm, President of the 
 Western Transportation Company, had not yet been out to 
 the ranch, and Crossdale had resisted elastically, obsti- 
 nately, every inducement until now to return to business. 
 
 The entrance to the bungalow was screened off by a 
 geranium hedge and a grove of orange trees, and as he 
 mused he heard voices and the peculiar call of the Mexican 
 cowboy. Visitors were rare, but they came now and then. 
 He was growing unsociable, hermit-like. 
 
 Two Mexican guides and a big man on a tired, gray 
 horse appeared around the turn. Crossdale sprang forward, 
 crying eagerly: "K! By Jove!" The natives slipped like 
 grease from their mounts and came to the head of Caleb 
 Storm's pony. 
 
 "Hallo, Cincinnatus!" Storm climbed stiffly down from 
 his horse. "Steve, send these fellers round to your stables 
 or your garage or whatever you've got. Gad, why don't 
 you go out into the country while you're about it? Think 
 of living three days' ride from any place God made!" 
 
 "K, this is the best ever!"
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 9 
 
 It took a second or two for the president of the Western 
 Transportation Company to uncurl. He clapped one 
 hand on his shoulder and then on his leg. "Stiff?" he 
 grimaced. "Oh, no!" He motioned to Jeff. "No food 
 for me, Jeff, until I have limbered up. Give me a hot bath, 
 with plenty of ammonia in it." 
 
 The two friends walked together to the living room. "I 
 feel as though I had been married to a saddle." Storm in 
 passing through, glanced at the big living room. "Bang 
 up, Steve absolutely bully! Haven't hurt yourself denying 
 yourself anything, boy!" 
 
 The rugs of fur, the big, roomy chairs, the broad, low 
 proportions of the big bungalow, now full of twilight shadow 
 and moonlight; the wide fireplace, with the logs laid against 
 a sudden freshness; the luxurious and inviting hospitality 
 of the place, appealed to Storm. He took it all in with his 
 quick, gray eyes, behind his highly polished glasses. "It's 
 all right," he said, still looking about him. "I'll enjoy 
 one of those soft chairs when I come down stairs." 
 
 When he had finished a perfect dinner which Jeff had 
 installed for him on a small table in front of a big, 
 roomy lounge, Crossdale said to him: "Gad, but I am glad 
 to see you, K! I didn't know I could be so glad. Now 
 you have loosened up a bit you will have to tell me what 
 has brought you out here. I see it isn't trouble. You look 
 too peaceful!" 
 
 Storm waved his plump hand toward the big center table. 
 "Clean it off," he said authoritatively. "I have a lot of 
 stuff to lay out there." He got up from the sofa gingerly, 
 and before Crossdale knew it, books and gramophone discs 
 were on the chairs and floor. Under the big lamp, Storm
 
 10 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 was spreading out from a huge portfolio, of a kind and 
 character familiar to Crossdale, maps, contracts, railroad 
 and engineering plans. 
 
 "What the devil, K ?" 
 
 The president of the W. T. C. looked at him almost ap- 
 pealingly. "Let me do it my way, old man. Sit over there 
 where I can see you." 
 
 As Stephen Crossdale took his place opposite, half de- 
 fiantly, he looked as if he were afraid of some proposition 
 which he was sure Storm was going to make. Storm bent 
 his head and face over the maps with the foreign lettering 
 all through strange, hieroglyphic-like characters maps of 
 mountains, rivers, wastes. 
 
 "Ever hear of a little old stream called the Danube, 
 Crossdale?" 
 
 "But I never saw it spelled in hieroglyphics, K." 
 
 "Look at her, old boy there she flows down to the Black 
 Sea." Storm's finger stopped. "Now see this red flag?" 
 
 Under the native characters was written in English and 
 Stephen Crossdale read: "Tamaresk." 
 
 Storm crowed. "Sounds fine. Great to hear you say it 
 out loud!" 
 
 Crossdale laughed. "It sounds to me like a queer fruit," 
 he said, " the kind you see in the windows, buy from curi- 
 osity; when you get your teeth in it gad! you heave it 
 away. Now, K, what is the dope with all this stuff here?" 
 
 His partner ignored him, bending over the papers. "Now 
 you get off with me at Tamaresk, see? And hike over 
 these hills inland a couple of days' travel. What's written 
 under that heathen Chinese writing in English read it 
 out, Steve."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 11 
 
 "Karmanian Hills." 
 
 "Some hills, aren't they, boy?" 
 
 "Carpathians?" 
 
 "Not on your life Karmanians, running through the 
 kingdom of Karmania, highest peak eight thousand feet." 
 Storm laughed out loud. 
 
 But Stephen Crossdale was not coming across at all. 
 "What are you doing with the Karmanian mountains?" 
 he said grudgingly. "Going to climb them next summer, 
 old man?" looking at his friend's avoirdupois. 
 
 But the president of the W. T. C. shook his head. "It 
 is a pretty solid wall, boy, to stand between an ambitious 
 people and a seaport, between commerce and wealth and 
 waterways. Come along let's go over the Karmanians 
 together." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 "Because there's no other way yet, Stephen. You will 
 remember that the W. T. C. shipped to Karmania a big 
 consignment of railroad building equipment before the 
 war?" 
 
 "Yes, I remember that." 
 
 "That lay-out was for the kingdom of Karmania. The 
 Karmanians are going to cut through to the Danube River; 
 their tunnel is already half-way through the Karmanians 
 on both sides. The port will be Tamaresk." 
 
 Caleb Storm looked frankly at his partner and watched 
 Crossdale's fingers as they began, with a certain eagerness, 
 to touch the documents on the table, and his clever, intelli- 
 gent face began to alter from its quiet content, to waken 
 and animate. 
 
 "Good Heavens, Crossdale, but it is good to see you touch
 
 12 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 something that looks like work again!" Stephen Cross- 
 dale dropped the papers. 
 
 "Get some other fellow for your job, K. I am a cowboy." 
 
 "Nonsense!" said the other man quickly. "You won't 
 go back on the W. T. C. Come across, Stephen, come 
 across!" 
 
 "How the deuce did you ever hear of all this, K?" 
 
 "Representative over here," said the other man. "They 
 handed us out a first-rate proposition. They want the 
 W. T. C. to run their railroad, complete their tunnel. It's 
 an easy little job for a man like you, Steve a pot of money 
 you use native labor." 
 
 "Stop!" said Stephen Crossdale, lifting up his hand. 
 "Don't go on. I wouldn't touch it for a fortune. I have 
 got my job right here," he glanced around his sympathetic 
 room, "right here." 
 
 Now at this point Caleb Storm displayed genius. He rose 
 and, taking another chair over by the big, broad window, 
 with its outlook on the brilliant western night, flooded 
 with moonlight, full of dazzling radiance, transforming 
 blossoms, trees and every growing thing, turned his back on 
 his friend. Stephen Crossdale began to handle the docu- 
 ments on the center table. There was a magic in them 
 which he had forgotten. The attraction and fascination 
 of his old work came to him all the more strongly because 
 he had forgotten it so long. After a few moments he went 
 over to Caleb Storm in the big chair. The president of the 
 Western Transportation Company was dosing; he opened 
 his eyes with a start. 
 
 "I have glanced the stuff over; seems all right." 
 
 "Good enough, Steve."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 13 
 
 Crossdale asked: "What is their language?" 
 
 "Well," said Caleb Storm, "what do you think I am? 
 Professor of Sanskrit? I dare say it is the language of their 
 country." He grinned. "Don't happen to speak it, do 
 you, Steve?" 
 
 But Crossdale did not answer in the same vein. He 
 returned slowly: "U m I don't know. I speak something 
 or other one of the Balkan dialects. We none of us ever 
 knew what it was. My father was consul for ten years in 
 Roumania. Curious, isn't it?" he said smiling. "I was 
 born in Bukarest, and we brought away with us my old 
 native nurse, and I always talked her language. She only 
 died a few years ago. We adored her. She was a beautiful 
 old woman, and I spoke with her in her own tongue, all 
 my life." 
 
 Caleb Storm was very slightly impressed. Dialects and 
 languages meant absolutely nothing to him, and no subject 
 in the world ever led him away from his own point until it 
 was gained. He was looking eagerly, affectionately, at 
 Crossdale. The young fellow was, in Cabel Storm's estima- 
 tion, the finest type of man. Crossdale's humor and human 
 kindness, his understanding of life, his handling of men 
 and difficult propositions, had made him extremely valuable 
 and sympathetic to Caleb Storm. He knew that Crossdale 
 could be counted upon to the limit. He was obliged to 
 confess to himself and he did so grudgingly: "This life 
 out here suits Steve down to the ground 1 He is as brown 
 as a sunset peach and as fit as a fiddle." 
 
 Stephen was saying: "So you want me to go over to 
 Karmania and tunnel the Karmanians? You want me to 
 complete that darned old road, do you?"
 
 14 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 "I didn't say so, Stephen." 
 
 "Oh, you've said nothing else, K. Your 'Hallo, Cincin- 
 natus!' gave you away. What is the population?" 
 
 "About five hundred thousand." 
 
 "What's the government?" 
 
 "Monarchy. King and Queen." 
 
 "Sounds like a pack of cards, K. You rich men cannot 
 rest; you can't let anybody else rest! Can't let us have a 
 leisure class in the United States." 
 
 Storm laughed. "You call ranching leisure?" 
 
 Crossdale turned his eyes slowly out to the moonlight 
 and the land. Then Storm altered, became magnetic. He 
 always scored his points. He sprang up from his chair and 
 forgot that he was stiff and heavy. He caught Crossdale 
 by the arm and his eyes flashed. "You are too young to 
 return to the soil. You are a man of action, a man of 
 cities, a man of creative mechanical genius!" He lifted 
 up his hand. "Listen!" 
 
 But Crossdale was facing the window. He did not look 
 at his friend. 
 
 "Listen! Hark what do you hear?" Crossdale stood 
 motionless. 
 
 "Don't you hear the toot-toot of the engines and the 
 sharp bright click of the drill? Don't you hear the drill, 
 drill of the steel needles piercing down? Don't you hear 
 the voices and the calls?" Storm leaned forward tensely 
 and gesticulated towards the fields. "See how dark it is." 
 
 "A cloud across the moon, Caleb," murmured Crossdale. 
 
 "It's smoke blowing out to us from the tunnel's mouth." 
 
 Crossdale slowly turned. "Oh, come on up to bed, K. 
 You've spoiled a dream for me."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 15 
 
 The other man linked his arm through Stephen Cross- 
 dale's and they walked slowly along together toward the 
 stairway. "Nonsense! Ranching will keep." 
 
 As they went along across the room toward the door and 
 the stairway, Storm said: "The W. T. C. are prepared to 
 make you the following proposition " 
 
 Crossdale shook his head impatiently. "We'll talk busi- 
 ness tomorrow. I'm not doing it for money I'm doing 
 it for the sporting proposition for the adventure."
 
 CHAPTER HI 
 
 PRINCE JOHN ORDERS CAVIARE 
 AND CROSSDALE TRANSLATES A SONG 
 
 Lazily enjoying the fairyland of willow growth stretching 
 for hundreds of miles along the shores of the Danube, from 
 Lintz to the Iron Gates, Crossdale travelled towards the 
 Black Sea, under the spell adventure casts. The heat was 
 intense, and comfortably settled on one of the wooden seats 
 close to the boat rail, he smoked countless cigarettes and 
 watched the changing shores. The stops the little steamer 
 made at the river towns gave him a chance to study the 
 curious type of peasants, as the crowds of soldiers, market 
 people, Hungarians, Roumanians, Austrians and Germans 
 thronged the quays, waiting for the daily arrival of the 
 Lintz mail. 
 
 The Danube, pale, unearthly, cobweb-gray or delicate 
 yellow, was full of personality, as it widened, deepened, on 
 its mighty course from the Black Forest to the sea; and 
 on either side the willow world offered at one moment silver 
 leaves to the wind-swept forests, then seemed to hang a veil 
 of green across the shores. After a little, Crossdale saw 
 the foothills of the Karmanians, creeping up into heights, 
 their brown tips peaked by brown castles, and their ancient 
 charm made him for a moment forget what a rabid democrat 
 he was. He thought he would like to be ruler in one of 
 these strongholds, lord of river and forest, with the jolly
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 17 
 
 days of autocracy back again. Downstairs in his cabin, 
 his credentials to the Karmanian Government were securely 
 stowed away. These he was to present to the envoys of the 
 Karmanian court at the little town of Tamaresk. 
 
 He had singled out one distinguished looking passenger 
 as being a man of mark. This gentleman had sat at the 
 head of the table in the deck dining room, as Crossdale 
 sampled a royal goulash a mysterious pastry whilst de- 
 ceiving himself into thinking that the native wine, clear as 
 amber, could be drunk without stint. The gentleman at the 
 head of the table might have been a king, if looks go for 
 anything. Crossdale had found the caviare, the pure article, 
 fresh from the Danube sturgeon, the best he had ever tasted, 
 but it had not been good enough for the kingly traveller, 
 who had nearly flung it at the head of the waiter, and pro- 
 cured for the whole table an even more delicious supply. 
 Now the foreigner, in a shaded part of the boat, with his 
 monocle adjusted, was reading a novel and listening to a 
 native orchestra installed in the stern, with their national 
 instruments. One man in embroidered coat and volum- 
 inous white trousers stood in the center of the circle with 
 his mellow, human-voiced violin. The weird, plaintive 
 melody filled the evening silence, falling over the yellow 
 river and the rugged shores. 
 
 Crossdale's traveller shut his book, dropped it into the 
 pocket of his loose tweed coat. His clothes were unmis- 
 takably British, and worn with a knowing disregard of 
 convention. He was doubtless, the American was sure, a 
 howling swell. Crossdale thought him about forty and 
 liked his looks. In the slender face there was a fine dis- 
 tinction, the mouth well formed and cold under a closely
 
 18 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 trimmed moustache. He was angular, loosely made, with a 
 vigorous body, and a skin darker than European coloring. 
 His eyes were blue and his hair abundant, slightly touched 
 with gray, as though a powder-puff had brushed it, and 
 would unmistakably have curled had it not been cut so 
 closely to his fine head. 
 
 The stranger left his seat and came slowly over toward 
 Crossdale, half smiling, and handed him an open cigarette 
 case. "Have one of these?" 
 
 "Thanks. I was just going down to my cabin to fill up 
 my own case. I am smoked out." 
 
 He sat down beside Crossdale on the narrow seat, whilst 
 the musicians, violently applauded by the picturesque pass- 
 engers, repeated one of their folk songs. 
 
 "Fairly good for gypsy music, what?" 
 
 "Perfectly fine!" exclaimed Crossdale warmly. "Of 
 course we get all that type of thing in the United States, 
 but this is the pure article, hot from the griddle!" The 
 other threw back his head and laughed frankly. 
 
 "Immense!" he exclaimed. "I have not heard real Ameri- 
 can for a long time." 
 
 "That's what I talk," said Crossdale coolly, "real Ameri- 
 can, as the hundred million speak it, more or less." 
 
 The man sat down contentedly fixing his vis-a-vis with 
 his keen eyes. Crossdale had never been looked over and out, 
 into and through, so thoroughly. If a man had looked at 
 him like that in the West, he would probably have punched 
 him. He did not mind. 
 
 "I am a great lover of the United States," said the dis- 
 tinguished gentleman. 
 
 "Good enough." The American nodded. Crossdale was
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 19 
 
 used to receiving impressions from people quickly. He was 
 used to different types of men. He liked this one. "I am 
 glad you don't hate us," Crossdale said. "Been in the 
 West?" 
 
 "Only in the West, as a matter of fact. I was called 
 back suddenly to the Balkans before I could see all I 
 wanted of the Atlantic coast. If I had not been born what 
 I am (what the deuce was he born, Crossdale wondered?) 
 I would rather be born an American." 
 
 "Westerner?" 
 
 "California ranchman. I came back from the United 
 States drunk with a dream of democracy." 
 
 Crossdale smiled. "Fine!" he said, in his agreeable 
 voice, with its slight drawl. "Democracy's the greatest thing 
 in the world. The United States has had the big advantage 
 of starting right, unhampered from the beginning by rotten 
 governments. We have got a straight ideal, and up hill 
 and down hill I guess we'll pull it off all right in the end." 
 
 For a second the other removed his eyes from Crossdale 's 
 attractive eager face. They smoked in silence, then Cross- 
 dale accepted a second cigarette. It was fatter, longer than 
 the usual type; with a crest on it and a name in gold letters. 
 
 In the pause, which extended itself for a few minutes, 
 Crossdale listened to the gypsy orchestra. The violinist 
 seemed to tear from the wood in his hand a rhapsody of 
 melody. Suddenly the stranger animated. He started. 
 With one slender brown hand he pointed to the sunset red- 
 dening the hills. "Do you know anything about this 
 country?" 
 
 "Only," said Crossdale, "that it is full of charm." 
 
 "The Arians, Slavs, Turks, Magyars all have passed over
 
 20 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 it. Franks and Vandals scoured it." He leaned over and 
 put his hand on Crossdale, pointing with the other. "Back 
 of those hills is the most beautiful little kingdom on the 
 earth," he looked at Crossdale, "Karmania." 
 
 Crossdale waited. He was not going to tell this man 
 that he was bound for this attractive little joint. "I will 
 bet a dollar bill," he thought to himself, "that he expects 
 me to present my credentials." 
 
 "It was civilized before you wild democrats existed. You 
 don't know anything about Karmania?" 
 
 "No, not a darned thing." 
 
 "When Caesar passed through, one of his generals had a 
 passionate dream of power; one of those intoxicating dreams 
 that come to strong, ardent men, even sometimes to women." 
 Crossdale listened, charmed by the man's voice and by his 
 personality. "This Caesarian captain of legions stormed a 
 certain hill and forced himself through, founded the Re- 
 public of Karmania," the man continued. "It was born a 
 republic, remained a republic, until two hundred years ago." 
 
 "Well," said Crossdale appreciatively, "it has got a great 
 little history, hasn't it?" 
 
 "A brilliant one. For centuries its morale was so high, 
 it never fell into the hands of tyrants; it kept its integrity, 
 democratic, idealistic, pure." 
 
 "How big is it?" asked the practical American. 
 
 "Two hundred thousand inhabitants." 
 
 "What is its future?" asked the citizen of a progressive 
 country. 
 
 The two men sitting on the little bench together in the 
 sunset were entirely apart from the rest of the passengers, 
 apparently unobserved by any save the musicians. The
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 21 
 
 man with the human-voiced violin played to them ravish- 
 ingly, but they did not seem to hear the wizard-like music. 
 
 The stranger dropped his voice. "You are a magician, 
 and charming me into speaking of a land I love." 
 
 "Go on," said Crossdale. "I've heard about the little 
 place. I'd like to see it." 
 
 "Before the war," the stranger smoked, musing as he 
 spoke, "there was a revolution in the country of Karmania, 
 and the Prime Minister then in power was exiled." Cross- 
 dale thrust his hands in his pockets, listened like a boy at 
 class. "Karmania is a back number in customs and prog- 
 ress," said the stranger, "but at last it stretches out its arms 
 to the waterways. We must have an outlet to the Danube 
 and the sea. Our original company was formed to run the 
 railroad from the capital to Tamaresk, but the engineer 
 who was tunnelling the Karmanians when the war broke out 
 was foully murdered because he was believed to be in collu- 
 sion with the revolutionists." At this cheerful announce- 
 ment of his predecessor's sudden death, Crossdale's eyelids 
 did not flicker. He listened intently. 
 
 "I do not know for what reason you have come to this 
 part of the world, but I trust my intuitions." His inference 
 was unmistakable. He smiled charmingly, took his card- 
 case from his pocket and handed his card to Crossdale: 
 
 Prince John Sarvanarof 
 Jockey Club, Paris 
 
 "Not a king," Crossdale mused, "just under it. That is 
 the chap Sarvanarof he's my man." He looked up 
 frankly. "Didn't you expect to meet me on this boat?"
 
 22 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 Prince John studied Crossdale's card, but did not appear 
 to know the name. "I had no idea such good luck was in 
 store for me. 
 
 Crossdale asked: "Is Sarvanarof a Karmanian name?" 
 
 "One of the most common names of the country." 
 
 "You speak bitterly about the state of affairs in Kar- 
 mania." Crossdale pursued. "What is the matter with 
 it? What is wrong?" 
 
 The other turned his eyes away. Their look flitted over 
 the musicians. He smiled inscrutably, as though something 
 amused him which he did not share with Crossdale. "Kar- 
 mania is under a damnable spell just now." Crossdale 
 waited. "The people are hypnotized by the Queen, and 
 the monarchial idea." 
 
 "It is a monarchy, isn't it?" said Crossdale. "There's 
 a king and a queen?" 
 
 "There is very much of a queen, indeed!" exclaimed the 
 Prince. "She is so autocratic and so profoundly embedded 
 in the hearts of her subjects that for the present, Karmania 
 is lost. It is swamped in autocracy." 
 
 Crossdale did not say: "What the deuce does it matter, 
 any way, what happens to a little bunch of barbarians over 
 on the other side of those great powerful mountains?" 
 
 "I suppose," he said keenly, "the Queen is one of the 
 ardent persons you were speaking of, a woman in love with 
 power?" 
 
 Sarvanarof bowed his head. "You cannot blame Karmen 
 
 Mara. She is young, she is adored. The Queen is a despot. 
 
 She comes from the people what you might call a 'come- 
 
 He laughed. "I learned that expression in the 
 
 American West. Twelve years ago the King fell in love
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 23 
 
 with her, when she was merely a child, and sent her with 
 her sister to England, to be educated; and when she came 
 back he forced her to marry him at sixteen out of hand." 
 
 "Rotten!" Crossdale exclaimed hotly. "Kidnapping! 
 I don't wonder she tries to hypnotize the people! I hope 
 she gets something out of her job." 
 
 "She was," said his companion, "not exactly what you 
 would call a commoner, for all that. Mariska and Karmen 
 Mara were the daughters of one of the old brigand chiefs. 
 They really form a sort of aristocracy. And she inherits 
 from his ancestors a fine lot of courage and spirit and an 
 inordinate arrogance for a woman." He was looking at 
 Crossdale, but he was apparently far away. He was ab- 
 sorbed in the picture he was drawing of the Queen of 
 Karmania. 
 
 As the darkness fell the young man became less distinct, 
 but Prince John already had a mental photograph of the 
 lines of the American's lean, well made figure and his frank, 
 attractive face. Little did Crossdale imagine the unusual 
 impression he had made upon this strange man. The un- 
 compromising patriot determined to attach the American 
 to his party if possible, and to use him in any way he could 
 for the cause of liberty. 
 
 Now the violinist, tearing away harder than ever into 
 the heart and soul of his instrument, came close and sang 
 to them alone four verses of a native folk song. Stephen 
 Crossdale listened tensely, leaning forward, with parted lips. 
 Every now and then he exclaimed, with something of a 
 little laugh: "The deuce!" "By Jove!" When the mu- 
 sician had finished he sprang up, and standing before tb^ 
 Prince said rapidly, in a low tone:
 
 24 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 "I say listen, will you? Look here isn't this some- 
 thing like what he's singing? 
 " 'What shall be given 
 To him who comes riding 
 Over the mountains and through the forests 
 To our hill city? 
 Much gold and glory? 
 
 " 'He comes for neither. 
 So the rider, the stranger, 
 Goes back unsatisfied! 
 
 " 'What shall I give him 
 Who comes so far and so gladly? 
 A gift for a stranger 
 A gift for a rider 
 I will give him that which I have kept for him 
 
 that which my mother gave me. 
 What is this gift? The heart in my breast. 
 When he feels it he will count its beating.' 
 "Isn't that what it means, more or less? You know." 
 The face of Prince John was no less keen in its excite- 
 ment than Crossdale's. 
 
 "Good God!" he said, catching hold of Crossdale's arm. 
 "Why that song was Karmanian, and in dialect! You 
 speak Karmanian, you speak the dialect?" 
 
 Stephen Crossdale threw himself down again on the bench 
 and burst out laughing. "Gosh!" he exclaimed. "I didn't 
 know it, but I do. Karmanian! If that isn't the limit! 
 When I was a kid my father was consul at Bukarest, and I 
 had an old nurse come from God knows where, and she
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 25 
 
 taught me the dialect of her people. We took her over to 
 the States. She lived with us twenty years. We never 
 knew what her speech was; she did not know herself, but 
 I have always known it. By George!" he exclaimed. 
 "Honestly, is it Karmanian?" 
 
 He repeated, not unmusically, a verse of the song, his fine 
 eyes fixed on the Prince. 
 
 "Excellent!" exclaimed Sarvanarof. "The Queen of 
 Karmania ought to hear you it is one of her songs. You 
 will hear it everywhere you go." 
 
 Crossdale was so absorbed in the fact of his discovery, 
 the fact that he could speak and understand the language 
 of the country into which he was going, that he almost 
 forgot his companion. Little Karmania! He had heard a 
 lot about it in the last half hour and he could speak its 
 language! 
 
 Prince John arose. "I'm going downstairs to interview 
 the cook, and order a special little supper for you and me. 
 Let the rabble go in and feed. You and I will eat later 
 on deck." 
 
 He did not go down to see the cook at once, but to his 
 cabin, and one of the musicians slipped out from the group 
 of players and followed the Prince. On the staircase Sar- 
 vanarof murmured, without turning his head: 
 
 "Skarervaro batucho. I want a few words with you in 
 my room." Once within the cabin, the Prince shut the 
 door and locked it, and looking sternly at the musician 
 said: "I knew you at once, Refan Ugo. Your disguise is 
 wretched. If you are on board to spy upon me you should 
 have concealed yourself more successfully." 
 
 "It is impossible to keep anything from your Excellency 1"
 
 26 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 Prince John looked the man up and down, as though he 
 hated every inch of him. "You miserable half-breed!" 
 he said. "Our day of reckoning will come. Now I want 
 you to answer me three questions. Who is this American?" 
 
 The man answered glibly: "Mr. Stephen Crossdale of 
 California. He has come to Karmania to finish the tunnel, to 
 run the railroad through to the Danube." 
 
 Prince John's face illumined. "Oh, my God! This is 
 too good to be true! What, in spite of the Prime Minister, 
 in spite of the opposition, in spite of the Queen herself?" 
 
 "I swear," said Refan Ugo, lifting his hand to make his 
 words more impressive, "it is God's truth." 
 
 But Sarvanarof caught the man by the shoulder, and 
 shook him like a rat. "Liar! Miserable liar!" Then he 
 dropped the spy as though he had been a puppy and mur- 
 mured to himself: "This means progress, life, Karmania's 
 future and other things the railroad, commerce, indus- 
 try!" 
 
 The spy, watching him, could not help but be impressed 
 by the Prince's fire. "Your excellency, it is the work of 
 the Queen herself." 
 
 Sarvanarof smiled skeptically. "I don't believe it. She 
 is too much under the power of that dandy, her present 
 Prime Minister." 
 
 "She is becoming modern. She is very much beloved 
 and more and more powerful. She desires progress for the 
 country. It is because of the Queen's insistence that this 
 American engineer has been brought from the United 
 States." Ugo touched his forehead in the Karmanian manner 
 of salutation. "Heljen," he murmured, finishing in a rev- 
 erential tone, "the Queen."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 27 
 
 But Prince John simply inclined his head shortly. "You 
 have told me great news. I could almost forgive your 
 treachery to me for this." He nodded upward toward the 
 deck. "So that's your engineer, is it? Well, he's an im- 
 provement on poor Baumgarten, I must say!" He threw 
 back his head and laughed, and narrowing his eyes said 
 in a tone full of menace: "I warn you that if anything 
 happens to Mr. Crossdale if he disappears you will 
 have to answer to " and he hesitated, "the United States." 
 
 The Prince started, half lifted his hand as though to 
 strike the man, but contained himself. He unlocked the 
 door and opened it. "Now," he said, "get out whilst I am 
 willing that you should go without harm. Our day of reck- 
 oning will come. I do not know what force you have on 
 board with you, but if you take any step to menace my 
 safe-conduct, the boat on which we are travelling will be 
 blown to atoms. You have your secret service men; I have 
 mine." The spy slipped out. 
 
 "Good night," said the Prince shortly. "When you see 
 Her Majesty, as you probably will, and when you report 
 to her our delightful interview, tell her from me that in 
 the name of the new Republic I thank her for building the 
 Royal State Railroad."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 JEFF MAKES HIS PROTEST AGAINST AUTOCRACY 
 
 Before they parted Prince John informed Crossdale that 
 "The Yellow Moon" was the one decent restaurant in 
 Tamaresk. His adieux to the Prince had been short and 
 summary. He was leaning on the rail of the steamer in the 
 moonlight, when Sarvanarof touched him on the shoulder. 
 
 "Good night, Mr. Crossdale not good-bye. I shall see 
 you soon. Don't taint your pure democracy in Karmania, 
 not even for the favors of the Queen." 
 
 Sarvanarof had slipped from the boat at Gieurgevo, and 
 Stephen watched his distinguished figure, in its long mili- 
 tary overcoat, disappear in the crowd of motleys. 
 
 Crossdale discovered "The Yellow Moon" easily. It 
 seemed as though everybody else in the world was dis- 
 covering it with him. The stodgy, stucco cafe, with a 
 Chinese-looking sign swinging out, a cluster of little green 
 lights above it like a bunch of grapes, was the one likely- 
 looking building in Tamaresk. Tonight was evidently the 
 night for the tow. Boat crowds and citizens pressed into 
 the eating house as though to a prize-fight, and Crossdale 
 followed them. Peasants in native dress, stiff white starched 
 skirts, barelegged, with yellow and red shoes, gaily-em- 
 broidered jackets, soldiers, Turks, Jews and every man- 
 jack of them wearing the inevitable tarbush. 
 
 Crossdale hated to go in out of the warm yellow moon-
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 29 
 
 light, flooding river and shores, but he was hungry and, 
 moreover, he had a rendezvous in Tamaresk with the rep- 
 resentatives of the Karmanian Government. No one had 
 met him at the boat landing and he had an idea that some- 
 thing would turn up for him here. The room into which 
 he was swept by the crowd was heavy with the odors of 
 oriental food. Wide to the blue eastern night, the small 
 windows, with their leaded casings, were thrown open. 
 Every table was full. 
 
 The American looked around helplessly. The serving 
 men, more like ballet dancers than waiters, forced their 
 way through the medley of people, in white outstanding 
 skirts, tarbushes and brilliant jackets of silver and velvet. 
 Over the throaty jargon of the unnecessarily excited 
 crowd, Crossdale heard the native music crying out from a 
 corner, where another group of musicians were at it in great 
 form. 
 
 His man Jeff had gone on to the Grand Hotel, further on 
 up in the town, to take quarters for his master for the night, 
 and to ask for letters. 
 
 The American saw a man break loose from a little group 
 in the corner and come over toward him, catching one of 
 the ballet-dancer waiters by the arm as he came a tall, 
 dark-skinned Oriental, rather soldierly in his bearing, very 
 smart in gray linen clothes, soft gray hat, and pleated 
 shirt with wide, low collar. He half threw the miserable 
 waiter against a table, which the native cleared like magic, 
 driving away the former occupants as though they were 
 hungry dogs. 
 
 The man in gray linen clothes came over to Crossdale. 
 He made a military salute and said respectfully: "Welcome
 
 30 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 to Karmania, Mr. Crossdale. I have told these fellows to 
 clear you a table." 
 
 Crossdale had no intention in the world of handing out 
 his credentials to the first man who greeted him by name. 
 "Sorry," he said, "you have made a mistake." The other 
 man was not in the least disconcerted. He smiled with un- 
 mistakable intelligence, and the American understood in a 
 flash that he really knew him to be Stephen Crossdale. 
 
 He found himself before a little table, at the other end of 
 which the man hi gray linen seated himself, rubbing to- 
 gether with satisfaction his flexible hands. A heavy chain 
 bracelet dangled from below his cuff, and he wore on the 
 little finger of his right hand a huge emerald, set in the 
 rough. 
 
 "He is a picture card, all right!" Crossdale thought. 
 "If that is the type of man around here !" 
 
 On the menu were no doubt a lot of good things, but 
 they were described in hieroglyphics. The native took the 
 bill-of-fare. "Do let me order you something to eat 
 planked steak, onions a la Tamaresk, new peas, Russian 
 salad, white wine and seltzer." 
 
 Before the other could speak, in a torrent of Karmanian, 
 the man in gray linen ordered supper, with coffee, native 
 cigars and a glass of reka to follow. Now the room, at 
 first packed with people, began to clear. Where had they 
 vanished? 
 
 "They drift in and out like that. They have gone to 
 dance in the rooms back. There are more than usual to- 
 night. Your boat was crowded, and then every one's hang- 
 ing around to catch a glimpse of a famous personage who is 
 passing through. We rather fear a demonstration in favor
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 31 
 
 of a great republican leader, but we are prepared. You 
 noticed the crowd?" 
 
 The waiter put down before Crossdale a tureen of earth- 
 enware, and when he lifted the cover, emancipated a fra- 
 grant odor of herbs and vegetables, tempting, tantalizing, 
 and before Crossdale could serve himself, the dark, deft 
 hands had poured the contents of the tureen into his soup 
 plate. 
 
 "That," said the man in gray, "is Karmanian goulash. 
 The best in the world." 
 
 The waiter who served him had great gold ear-rings in 
 his ears and a turquoise ring on his hand. "There seems to 
 have been a cheap ring sale here," Crossdale thought. "It's 
 the fashion!" "Yes," he said. "I noticed a crowd. It 
 looked to me like a traveling circus going home." 
 
 "The usual country crowd," said the other. "River 
 towns are always congested. It's a mixed population. The 
 Danube washes the shores of seven countries. We get all 
 kinds." 
 
 As the American bent to his fragrant dish his companion 
 said: "The famous exile, Prince John Sarvanarof, was on 
 your boat." 
 
 Crossdale ate his goulash. "I'm glad you find it to your 
 taste." 
 
 "It's all right perfectly good stuff." 
 
 "What does the United States think about Karmania?" 
 The naivete with which this question was put amused Cross- 
 dale. He finished his goulash; the man removed the tureen 
 and his plate. 
 
 "To tell you the truth the United States is thinking about 
 itself just now. We've got a few questions of our own to
 
 32 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 settle. We've been doing the altruistic act for the last five 
 years; now it's home and mother for the U. S. A." 
 
 His companion laughed musically. "I dare say," he said, 
 "that few people over there have ever heard of Karmania." 
 
 "You're right," said Crossdale. "They wouldn't know 
 whether it was a fruit or a bird if you put it up to them. 
 I hope that doesn't offend you?" 
 
 Before the American, on a piece of fragrant cedar board, 
 lay a juicy piece of steak, a bit of perfection to tempt a 
 hungry man. The Karmanian poured into his green glass 
 a honey-like liquid and onto that the crystals of ice-cold 
 seltzer. 
 
 "And that little jazz band " from the other corner came 
 the crying and appealing music which apparently was play- 
 ing now to the man in gray linen and Crossdale alone, for 
 the room had cleared " that band could play anywhere in 
 the United States and fill the house! I wonder why we 
 haven't got that little bunch of troubadours!" 
 
 He drank his wine. It filled him with the sense of the joy 
 of life. Above his head the fans were agreeably rotating. 
 The violinist, a boy not more than twenty years of age, his 
 violin tucked under his chin, came stealing, slipping, gliding 
 on soft red shoes, close to the American's elbow. 
 "What shall I give him 
 Who comes so far and so gladly? 
 A gift for a stranger 
 A gift for a rider " 
 
 "I'm glad," said his vis-a-vis in a low tone, "that you 
 approve that you like what you have seen of Karmania 
 and heard of it and tasted of it. Karmania has a great 
 future, a great past and a great Queen."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 33 
 
 As the man in gray linen said the word "Queen" he rose 
 to his feet sharply, with a click of his heels, and lifted high 
 in the air his little glass of white wine, saying aloud in an 
 impressive voice: "Heljenl" It was impressive, it was 
 picturesque, and Crossdale liked it. Here was evidently a 
 good servant of the autocratic monarch! 
 
 "If I am not indiscreet, what has brought you to Kar- 
 mania? What are you interested in?" 
 
 "Cinema films," said the American, "and gypsy bands. 
 Those people over there play wonderfully. I am going 
 to get them to emigrate." 
 
 The man was leaning confidently across the table to 
 Crossdale; he smiled cleverly and laughed. He turned 
 his huge emerald round, so that the light lay ruddy on it. 
 Then in a very low tone he said, straight into the engineer's 
 eyes: "I saw you on the Danube boat you were talking 
 to Prince John, and since you are apparently a friend of 
 his, you will be interested in tonight's issue of the 'Tamaresk 
 Whistle.' " 
 
 From his pocket he took a copy of a pink evening news 
 sheet, covered with the hieroglyphic printing. "I dare say 
 you don't read Karmanian," he said indulgently, and began 
 to translate glibly for Crossdale's benefit: 
 
 "Prince John Sarvanarof is back in the Balkans, has had 
 the daring to return after four years' absence. He will 
 probably pass through Tamaresk tonight. He will not be 
 permitted to remain twenty-four hours, and his arrest is 
 looked for momentarily." 
 
 Crossdale listened and when the man had finished reading, 
 met his eyes without any change of expression in his own. 
 The Karmanian folded up the pink paper and said, always
 
 34 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 in the same impressive undertone: "I shall say to you 
 what I should have said to Mr. Stephen Crossdale, of San 
 Francisco, if he had happened to come in tonight: If you 
 are going into the interior, don't touch intrigue or politics." 
 
 "Thank you," said Crossdale coolly, "I quite believe they 
 would be dangerous in your part of the world. Now, for 
 instance, the chap who started to tunnel the Karmanians 
 he got it in the back, didn't he?" 
 
 "Baumgarten, the engineer?" said the other man slowly. 
 "No one ever knew quite what happened to Baumgarten, 
 but he was a very unwise young man. He meddled in poli- 
 tics, and it proved bad for his heart." 
 
 Crossdale helped himself to a fat cigarette Prince John's 
 type, with the arms of Karmania on the white paper in gold. 
 
 "You ought to make your country more attractive to 
 tourists! They are trying to hand round a story in the 
 United States that European travel is unpleasant. If you 
 are going to add to the joys of the railroad trains assassi- 
 nation and political intrigue, forced on you whether you 
 want it or not, take it from me, you will keep a lot of 
 people out." He laughed. 
 
 The Karmanian poured into Crossdale's glass some golden- 
 colored liquor of a rich, oily substance, with a nutty aroma. 
 "Rekat Try it the national drink. Americans who are 
 used to alcohol won't mind a little reka." 
 
 "Net in the least." The American tasted it, liked it and 
 finished it. "I dare say I shall want to smuggle a case or 
 two back to our dry old country." 
 
 The other man laughed, watching Crossdale's indifference 
 to the hot, fiery liquid, which must have burnt his throat 
 like liquid flame.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 35 
 
 "Have some more?" he asked, amused. 
 
 "Ill wait until my internal organs are properly intro- 
 duced to this first glass. It's some little drink, all right!" 
 The American put his glass down. 
 
 As he spoke, the native orchestra again fell into the be- 
 witching tune of the Queen's song. Its measured melody 
 rocked his senses like a cradle. He was beginning to feel 
 the wines, the amber white wine and this last biting alcohol. 
 "What shall be given 
 To him who comes riding 
 Over the mountains and through the forests " 
 
 "One of the Queen's new folk songs," said the man in 
 gray linen. "You heard it on the boat?" Crossdale nodded. 
 
 "They are mad about her music and her songs all over 
 the Kingdom." 
 
 Crossdale was determined not to ask any questions of 
 anybody in Karmania. His companion who had drunk little, 
 was, however, confidential. "The Queen is interested in 
 everything that concerns her kingdom. There has been no 
 sovereign like her since the days when women were really 
 great not another woman her equal in any court of Europe. 
 She rules by wisdom, and the people worship the dust under 
 her feet." The man was convincing. The American looked 
 at him, very much impressed by his enthusiasm. 
 
 "She is the most beautiful woman in Europe," said the 
 Karmanian. "And that mad seditious man whom you saw 
 on the boat is a fanatic, dangerous beyond words, and if 
 you value your personal safety, avoid him." 
 
 Crossdale had picked up the bill the waiter had put at 
 his side and looked at it helplessly, at its undecipherable 
 figures. As the man opposite took it from his hand, he heard
 
 36 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 the noise of scuffle, confusion of voices without the door, 
 and he recognized Jeff Robinson's honest tones. The next 
 moment the negro was pushed into the room by two huge 
 Karmanians in uniform. It would have taken an expert to 
 have discovered that they were policemen. 
 
 Breathless, badly shaken, hatless, evidently culled by 
 main force from some scuffle, Jeff panted: "Dere's de bossl 
 Dere's de boss!" 
 
 Crossdale sprang to his feet and realized in an instant 
 how serious this was, and how alone he was, how important 
 everything he did just then was for them both; and he was 
 angry and furious at this assault on Robinson. "What 
 the devil, Jeff" 
 
 The man in gray linen was occupying himself with the 
 native policemen who fell off Jeff like dead flies. 
 
 "Wen' up to de Gran' Hotel, Boss, and lef yo' grips. 
 I asted dem fo' yo' letters an' de clerk give me a laugh an' 
 said yo' mail had done been give out already. I called him 
 a liar and a t'ief, boss, an' I soaked him on de jaw, an' nex' 
 I knowed dese hyar policemen j^abbed holt o' me. Nemmine 
 me, boss, but somebuddy's done stole yo' mail." 
 
 The room swam. Crossdjfle wanted to get his fist in 
 somebody's face. He had a sickening feeling that this big, 
 yellow, brown-handed man of the emerald ring and the 
 bracelet, the sailor collar and felt hat was at the bottom of 
 it. He turned to him, white with anger. 
 
 "I want to telephone to Bukarest to the American rep- 
 resentatives." 
 
 "I can't tell you," said the other man quietly, "how sorry 
 I am that this should have happened." 
 
 Jeff Robinson gave him a withering look and turned and
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 37 
 
 went over to a little mirror on the wall which his ready eye 
 had caught sight of, and scrutinized his battered cheek, mur- 
 muring: "I don' min' any li'l fight in a country where I can 
 speak de langwidge! I met de German ban' in 'Frisco when 
 it tried to play de national airs!" 
 
 The man in gray linen took a package from the table and 
 handed Crossdale a thick yellow envelope, addressed to: "Mr. 
 Stephen Crossdale; to be called for," the seals of the Ameri- 
 can Consulate unbroken. "This envelope was left yesterday 
 by a Consular messenger for you at the Grand Hotel. You 
 will find all your letters and wires inside." 
 
 The Karmanian turned his back on the engineer and bent 
 to light a fresh cigarette, while Crossdale touched and looked 
 at his voluminous correspondence; wires, letters, in familiar 
 envelopes, with the Western Transportation Company's 
 printing in the corner. 
 
 "Who are you?" he asked shortly. "Are you the King of 
 Karmania, or just " he stopped " the Chief of Police?" 
 
 The Karmanian handed him a thick white envelope, 
 sealed with a princely seal and addressed in a fine, distin- 
 guished handwriting: "Stephen Crossdale, Esq.; to be given 
 by hand by Captain Refan Ugo," and the card in Cross- 
 dale's palm read: "Captain of the Karmanian Royal Fusil- 
 iers, First Secretary to the Cabinet of the Prime Minister." 
 
 "Why didn't you say that before?" he asked quietly, fixing 
 his honest, fine eyes on the Slav. 
 
 The man bowed very respectfully and very politely. "In- 
 structions, Excellency." 
 
 Crossdale looked over at Jeff, who had got some order out 
 of his dishevelled appearance, and he said sternly to Refan 
 Ugo: "I don't know anything about your instructions, from
 
 38 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 whom they were, yet, though I expect I shall find out when I 
 have read this letter. But if they included your beating up 
 my man servant, I don't respect them and I don't like them, 
 and it is up to you to fix things up with the clerk of the 
 Grand Hotel. I'm going to stop there tonight and I expect 
 to be treated properly, and that my man shall be treated 
 properly too. It's up to you." 
 
 He put the letter in his pocket and went over and took 
 his hat and stick. "Come along, Jeff. I hope we can get 
 to the Grand Hotel without any more adventures." 
 
 Refan Ugo followed them, and no sooner were they with- 
 out the door of the cafe, which closed upon them, than there 
 in the moonlight, straight as lances, the moon shining on 
 their casques, Crossdale saw drawn up a little posse of sol- 
 diers. Refan Ugo bore not the least grudge for Crossdale's 
 natural anger. He put his hand through the American's 
 arm. "Come, Mr. Crossdale," he said agreeably, "we'll all 
 go on together. This little company of men will go along 
 with us." 
 
 For just a second the engineer felt a slight sickening of 
 his heart. 
 
 "Am I under arrest?" he asked. 
 
 "Heavens, no!" exclaimed the other man. "How dull I 
 must be! You are under royal escort, Mr. Crossdale, and 
 you're to have the best that the Kingdom can give you."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 HE DISCOVERS HOW DANGEROUS IT IS SOMETIMES 
 TO MAKE TOO GOOD A FIRST IMPRESSION 
 
 As they came up to the wretched little hostelry styled 
 "Grand Hotel" Crossdale saw two officers in full tenue, 
 waiting, and as their cortege came along, Refan Ugo was 
 seized upon by these men and born off into a distant part of 
 the hotel lobby. The American, thoroughly disgusted so far 
 with everything, cast a disapproving glance in the direc- 
 tion of Ugo, went over to the lift and demanded of the 
 sleepy servant to be shown upstairs to the rooms his man 
 had engaged. 
 
 He was surprised and cheered to find himself shown to a 
 comfortable, well lit room, with a cold supper laid out on the 
 table. The hotel servant was followed by a porter with 
 his valises. But Jeff, who was deeply plunged in gloom, 
 cast a baleful look round the room. 
 
 "Boss," he said impressively, holding up his hand to the 
 side of his mouth as the door closed behind the hotel ser- 
 vants, "Dis ain' no cibilisation!" (And this became Jeff's 
 refrain in Karmania.) "Boss, I kin take care ob anyt'ing 
 in a cibilised country, but dis am fierce." 
 
 "I dare say the clerk at the desk had something against 
 your brand of civilisation, Jeff! Now unpack my valise, 
 then get along to bed." 
 
 He was feeling somewhat better when Ugo came in in a
 
 40 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 few seconds, and before he could speak, the American faced 
 him, throwing up his fine head defiantly: "I'm waiting for 
 you' Captain Ugo! I am not going to take another step in 
 this business before you have answered me a question or 
 two. I don't like your barbaric codes or your bandit cus- 
 toms. Now, I want to know, am I under arrest?" 
 
 Refan Ugo laughed comfortingly, and threw his long 
 length down on the hard little hotel sofa, stretching out his 
 legs with nonchalance. "In no sense! Under arrest? What 
 an idea, Excellency!" 
 
 "And let up on that Excellency stuff I hate it!" But 
 Refan Ugo was as smooth as oil, unruffled and serene, and 
 there was something about his attitude that put the other's 
 mind more at rest. 
 
 "Have a bit of cold bird?" He nodded at Jeff Robinson, 
 protectingly. "We must make everything up to you, my 
 man, in Karmania. I am sorry you had such a hot recep- 
 tion." 
 
 But Crossdale knew his man too well not to interrupt 
 these apologies on the part of the Karmanian. "Come," he 
 said sharply, to Jeff, "get along out, Jeff. I will have you 
 called at the proper time for me in the morning." 
 
 As Jeff went out of the door, Refan Ugo pulled a little 
 book-map out of his pocket, and as Storm had done in Cali- 
 fornia, flung a map of Karmania down on the table. He 
 was business-like and talked at lightning speed. Something 
 had happened downstairs evidently to lighten him up, for 
 his cheeks were bright. Crossdale watched him. 
 
 "You will have to leave here at six tomorrow morning, 
 Excellency, en route for Cye. All is arranged for your 
 journey. You will be charmed with the ride across the
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 41 
 
 steppes from here. Look " with his long brown finger he 
 indicated Tamaresk on the map, and the inward road, 
 straight as the crow flies, the cross roads branching north 
 and south, "at these cross roads you will meet my caravan, 
 which will conduct you safely to Cye. There are no roads; 
 there are only tracks, rough, primitive, after you leave the 
 carriage. But it is a wonderful journey and very few 
 strangers have ever taken it." Refan Ugo was expansive 
 now and eager. 
 
 "How long a trail is it, anyway?" asked the Californian. 
 
 "To Cye two days' riding and one night lust a, as we 
 call the road rests. You will sleep in a tent; you will 
 have a guard, Excellency. Everything is prepared and 
 waiting. Indeed, you are under royal escort." 
 
 Stephen Crossdale smiled. "Escort that's the word, is 
 it? Stands for arrest, doesn't it? What a little despot your 
 queen is!" He hummed mockingly: 
 " 'What shall be given to 
 Him who comes riding . . . . ' 
 
 A prison cell and a stab in the back, eh? Tell it to the 
 Bolshevists, Ugo they have got the handicap on you." 
 
 His companion put out his brown hand across the table 
 and laid it on Crossdale's sleeve. "Excellency, don't be 
 so suspicious. Before Her Majesty signed the order which 
 permitted you to come from California to Karmania, we 
 knew all about you." 
 
 "Fine!" said Crossdale. "You have got the advantage 
 over me. But I'm going to find out!" 
 
 The other man, smiling at the American's suspicion, 
 bore this agreeably. He rose. "You are tired, Ex- 
 cellency, and the night is short."
 
 42 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 Crossdale did not stir. He shook his head. 
 
 "Not a bit of it! The night's not too short to talk a 
 little yet, Ugo. I've got several questions to put before 
 I caravan further to any circus. Sit down, will you?" The 
 spy accepted and resumed his place in the corner of the 
 sofa. 
 
 "I am sorry that I shall not be able to go in with you 
 into the interior tomorrow myself, Excellency. The of- 
 ficers you noticed downstairs at the door have brought 
 me orders; I am to remain in Tamaresk tomorrow in order to 
 prepare the journey back to the capital for the Queen." 
 
 Crossdale lifted his brows. "The Queen? Is she in 
 Tamaresk?" 
 
 "She arrives tonight from Paris, and as it happens, your 
 caravan has exhausted for the present all my available 
 traveling supplies." 
 
 "Don't you use motors in this part of the country?" 
 
 "No one is allowed to own a motor at present," returned 
 the Karmanian. "Riot and sedition have made it too 
 dangerous. The Queen herself owns the only motor that 
 ever leaves Tamaresk for Cye, and at the best a motor can 
 only go a certain distance. After that there is only one 
 method of crossing the steppes." Ugo reached out his hand 
 and drew a bottle toward him and poured out glasses for 
 his companion and himself. The American held it up to 
 the light and looked into it. 
 
 "Well," he said slowly, "I don't know whether I am a 
 darned fool or not, but I'm going to drink it. I dare say 
 it's another brand of hell fire, but here goes." And over the 
 top of the glass he said to Ugo: "To our better acquaint- 
 ance, Captain Ugo."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 43 
 
 When Refan Ugo left at three o'clock in the morning 
 the American knew a great deal more about Karmania 
 than when he hit the Balkans. The Slav had given him 
 freely and frankly dope about the railroad, its partial con- 
 struction, the political state of the kingdom, and a synopsis 
 of the treachery and treason of Prince John Sarvanarof, for- 
 mer Prime Minister, brother to the King. This Prince, 
 whilst exercising his functions of Premier, had brought the 
 state close to anarchy and menaced the throne. But it 
 was with a picture of the Queen herself that the young man 
 fell asleep. He could almost see this woman of action, 
 vigor and power, strangely and magnetically beautiful, 
 who seemed deepset in the hearts of her people like a rich 
 jewel. 
 
 The following morning he found in front of the door 
 of the Grand Hotel a victoria, drawn by six horses and 
 driven by a colossal Caucasian eunuch, dressed as though 
 he had drifted out of some fancy ball. The valises were 
 strapped on the back of the carriage. There was no one 
 in sight to bid him God speed or farewell. Refan Ugo 
 was not in sight, and before he could wonder whether he 
 were properly started on his unknown way or not, the driver 
 cracked his yards of thin whip and they were away. 
 
 Like this they raced through Tamaresk in the dawn, past 
 Greek churches, their brilliant domes and crosses flaming 
 in the sunrise; past blatant houses of pink and lavender and 
 yellow stucco; through a town asleep. 
 
 Crossdale had always thought his man servant a big 
 chap; he looked like a pigmy beside the Caucasian, who 
 raced them out of the town, through the suburbs, along the
 
 44 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 Danube for miles, and then straight towards the interior of 
 the mysterious kingdom. As he looked back and saw 
 Tamaresk blazing in the hot September morning, he felt 
 that he was leaving the uttermost fringe of civilization be- 
 hind him. They rushed through fertile farm lands, and 
 before he had time to tire of the cradle-like motion of the 
 carriage, tossed like a cockleshell along the road, the big 
 man on the box drew his horses up before a wayside tavern 
 and loudly demanded :"Rekaf Rekat" A glass of it was 
 handed up to him; the horses were watered and they were 
 off again, stopping once or twice to repeat these ceremonies. 
 
 They drove like this until noon. Then in the distance, a 
 little spot on the broad expanse of the unbroken steppes, 
 lay a shadow on the land, and the driver pointed with his 
 whip. "The escort, Excellency." They had made good time; 
 they were three hours ahead of their schedule, and as Cross- 
 dale looked at his map, he could not trace the direction he 
 had come from or his route. As they came up to the little 
 shadow on the plains and its form declared itself, he saw 
 somewhere about fifty soldiers, standing at their horses' 
 heads some of them, the others mounted, waiting. The 
 caravan to conduct him to Cye was a medley of type and 
 color, and every man-jack of them was armed to the teeth. 
 In cinder-gray uniform, soft felt hats, with bright feathers 
 stuck through the black hat-bands, they were far and away 
 the most business-like looking group of men that he had 
 seen in this romantic country. 
 
 The driver drew his six horses back like dogs. Two men 
 were at the hood of the victoria, unstrapping the luggage. 
 Jeff had climbed down wearily, and Crossdale got out, 
 looking for some one to come up and introduce himself as
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 45 
 
 Lieutenant Korvan, who, Refan Ugo had informed him, 
 was to command the caravan. He looked in vain. He be- 
 gan in the dialect in which he had spoken to Sarvanarof and 
 got no further than: "Skarervaro. ..." looking from face to 
 face. Before he could frame another syllable, his arms were 
 seized from the back; he was trussed in a moment from 
 neck to ankle, tight as a pullet. In another moment his eyes 
 were deftly and tightly bandaged from behind. 
 
 He heard an oath from Jeff and surmised that he had 
 met the same reception. The voice at his side said, in 
 fairly good English, apparently learned in the States: 
 "There is a six-hour ride before us. We know his Ex- 
 cellency is a good rider. Will his Excellency ride free and 
 blindfolded, or will he be carried between two soldiers, as 
 his Excellency's servant is to be transported?" 
 
 The American was so hot with fury, and so helpless, that 
 he could hardly speak. "Curse you! Ride to where?" 
 
 "That cannot be told his Excellency." 
 
 "I will ride free, if it is to hell!" and he called out: 
 "Hallo, Jeff!" 
 
 And his relief was enormous when the answer came back 
 from the negro: "All right, boss! Never min' me! What did 
 Ah tell yo' 'bout cibilisation?" 
 
 His master's sense of humor, strong even in this mo- 
 ment, made him laugh grimly. "By God!" he exclaimed, 
 turning his blindfolded face from side to side, "if any harm 
 comes to that black servant of mine " And he stopped. 
 Of what avail were his threats? 
 
 He found a horse's back between his legs and the feel of 
 a good English saddle. His stirrups were adjusted and a 
 bridle was put between his fingers. And like this, un-
 
 46 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 conscious of where he went east, west, north or south the 
 American rode till sundown. After a short dash across the 
 level, during which time he realized what sight means, his 
 horse began to climb and climb and climb, and the air to 
 grow heavy and sweet with spice and balm. He never spoke 
 and no one spoke to him. They all rode silently. There 
 were the blows of big cravache, the crying to the horses in 
 the low Oriental fashion, the noise of the rolling gravel and 
 the little intense hoofs gripping, climbing, finding their foot- 
 ing. 
 
 When he had done six hours in the saddle they came clat- 
 tering upon a paved enclosure, stones of some courtyard or 
 street how could he know? Then the group of riders 
 broke into sound. There were cries and calls, shouts of 
 greeting and other shouts further off, and a cheer of: "Sava, 
 sava Jehanost" weird, beautiful, barbaric, something be- 
 tween a prayer and a wail. 
 
 He was off his horse, and directed and led by two sol- 
 diers, still blindfolded, conducted into some building or 
 other; he felt the stones under his feet, and then the hard 
 wood of the flooring of the house. He went up long, long 
 flights of stairs, without protest, to either death or mo- 
 mentary liberty. What did he know? Finally he heard 
 a door close; his bandage was whipped from his eyes and 
 he blinked into a small tower room, candle-lit and hung 
 with tapestries and flags. Before him, lying on a couch, 
 covered by rugs, with head bandaged and his right arm in 
 a sling, was Prince John Sarvanarof. Half sitting up, he 
 waved his left hand gallantly, smiling with an amusement 
 which his visitor thought sardonic. 
 
 "Good evening. I told you we should meet again!"
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 47 
 
 Between his two guards, rigid as the dead, Stephen Cross- 
 dale glared at his captor, white to the lips. "I am heartily 
 sorry to have dragged you up here like this, but you would 
 not have come otherwise, you know, and I was desperate to 
 see you. All is fair under certain circumstances, and it 
 is a poor workman who does not use the tool in his hands, 
 especially when he knows its temper and its metal! You're 
 a sport, and they tell me that that servant of yours is a sport 
 also." 
 
 If Sarvanarof was an impressive figure in the candle- 
 light, supine and bandaged, Crossdale was more impressive, 
 pale and furious, with his blue eyes so full of fire as to be al- 
 most red. He loved his life and he determined to make a 
 desperate fight for it. Prince John nodded to the guards. 
 
 "Set Mr. Crossdale free." 
 
 The young man said between his teeth, thickly: "If you 
 do, I will be at your throat, Sarvanarof." 
 
 The Prince laughed. "I believe you would," he said, "and 
 I will wait until you have decided for yourself what you 
 want to do. But we could talk more agreeably if you were 
 a bit more comfortable." 
 
 "I am all right," said the American, "as I am and safer, 
 so far as you are concerned. Now, it's up to you to explain 
 this, Prince John." 
 
 "You are no fool. You love your life; you don't want to 
 die here in a mysterious way in this hidden hole in the Bal- 
 kans?" 
 
 "If everything you say is as true as that, you will be talk- 
 ing Gospel." 
 
 "It is now seven o'clock. You came here from the point 
 where my people found you in about six hours. It will take
 
 48 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 you little more than half that time to go back it is down 
 grade and you will have a sure-footed horse. I have a 
 rendezvous at midnight in the same place where you left 
 your traveling carriage." Sarvanarof touched his head and 
 his arm. "I have been hurt no matter how. I cannot 
 meet my appointment." 
 
 Crossdale waited, listening, watching, prepared for any- 
 thing, and said sullenly: "What's the dope? What have I 
 got to do with your infernal rendezvous and meetings?" 
 
 "I want you to go in my place." 
 
 "What the deuce do you want me to do that for?" 
 
 "My soldiers who came up with you are rebels. They 
 have rallied round my flag and they love me. They are all 
 recruits from the Karmanian Army. They are desperate; 
 they will follow their leader anywhere." 
 
 "So I see they are following you to hell, all right!" 
 
 The other went on. "They are ignorant barbarians, the 
 lowest class of men; each one more reckless than the other. 
 They are not pleasant to deal with; they have to be mas- 
 tered, tyrannized. They are a type of which revolutionaries 
 are made and republics have been carved and moulded by 
 hands such as theirs." 
 
 "Go on," said Crossdale nodding, "call them any old 
 names you like I shan't object." 
 
 "But," said the Prince passionately, "I have not a single 
 person near me whom I can send on this delicate mission." 
 
 The American waited. The Prince made a slight gesture 
 of command and both guards stepped out, leaving him alone 
 with Crossdale. It was a curious picture, the man wounded, 
 partially helpless, and the other bound. 
 
 "Queen Karmen Mara arrived in Tamaresk last night,"
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 49 
 
 said the Prince. "She is now on her way by motor to Cye, 
 with her sister, the Princess Mariska. They will pass your 
 point tonight at midnight. You will be there with my sol- 
 diers; you will meet the Queen's motor; you will bring the 
 Queen here to me at Jehanospelz." 
 
 The young American threw back his head and laughed 
 aloud. "You are too good to be true! Not on your tintype, 
 Prince John! You have got another guess coming to you!" 
 
 The Prince, perfectly quiet and unmoved, continued: 
 "If you refuse you will watch from this window the de- 
 parture of these men rough, unprincipled, half-drunken 
 brigands for they will go down with no leader but one of 
 their own kind to meet the Queen. She will not fancy such 
 an escort. It will not be pleasant company for women to 
 travel in between midnight and dawn." 
 
 Prince John stopped, watching his man. "They're half 
 drunk, all of them, with reka, and the sight of beauty, two 
 unprotected women " 
 
 "My God!" exclaimed Crossdale, his breast heaving. 
 "You human devil!" 
 
 "No," said the Prince quietly, "I am no devil at all. The 
 Queen of Karmania is dearer to me than she can ever be to 
 any living man. I am a patriot my country and the re- 
 public! I have no other credo." 
 
 The American spoke with difficulty; his voice threatened 
 to go back on him,; but he said: "And if I accomplish this 
 picture-book deal, and bring her here, what will happen to 
 her?" 
 
 "She shall be kept here," said Prince John, "as an hon- 
 ored guest, held here until the republic is firmly estab- 
 lished."
 
 SO THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 "Oh," said the young man furiously, "y u talk like a 
 book! And what will happen to me, by the way, when I 
 have brought the Queen of Karmania here to you?" 
 
 "Well," said the Prince, "you will remain, too, at Jehanos- 
 pelz. You will see the glories of the new republic. I will 
 give you an official position and you will complete the rail- 
 road; or if you prefer, I will give you a safe-conduct out of 
 the country and you can return to the United States." Here 
 one of the castle bells rang out eight, long, vibrant pealing 
 tones. 
 
 "Come," said Prince John, "come, Crossdale, you will 
 have to go at once if you are going to be in time. Other- 
 wise she will be alone on those steppes, and they are not 
 cheerful after midnight." 
 
 "I say," said Crossdale practically, "you don't expect me 
 to believe that the Queen of Karmania is motoring alone 
 from Tamaresk into that desert I have just left, without a 
 proper escort?" 
 
 "She is doing just this," said Prince John. "She expects 
 to meet Refan Ugo's caravan; the caravan that will meet 
 her will be mine, as it was my caravan which met you." 
 
 Crossdale never once asked what the alternative would be 
 for him if he refused. He had a plan in his mind; his train 
 was laid. He stirred in his bonds. 
 
 "If what you say is true," he said, in as commonplace 
 a voice as he could summon, "it would be rotten to leave a 
 woman there alone. Your politics are nothing to me, out 
 here. I am more democratic than anything else, anyway. 
 And, as you put it so pleasantly, I have no choice. But 
 what is going to happen to my black man servant? Y/e 
 both go down, or I will sell my hide with his."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 51 
 
 Prince John was searching him keenly. "You are a dead- 
 game sport. I liked you on the boat!" 
 
 "Tell your people to fix me up something to eat in the sad- 
 dle, and give me something to drink, too I am thirsty as the 
 deuce. None of that damned reka stuff, either! I am not 
 a fire-eater it is good enough for your soldiers." 
 
 Although Prince John had made no apparent gesture, the 
 door was opened and the guards came back. "Take Mr. 
 Crossdale to the gun room. Arm him; give him pistols and 
 what he wants. Give him a pouch with bread and cheese and 
 a bottle of wine. I put you, Crossdale, in the hands of my 
 own personal servant, the chap who spoke to you when 
 you got out of the victoria. He understands your kind of 
 dialect and speaks English." 
 
 Prince John had animated. His eyes were sparkling. 
 "You are superb," he said to Stephen. "You come of a 
 free country and you are a worthy son of the republic." 
 
 The young man thrust his head out, but he did not move 
 to spring on the Prince he had other plans. "Don't you 
 speak of my country to me! In the United States you would 
 be strung up to a lamp-post and riddled with bullets! Now 
 for my man, Prince John. We don't desert each other in the 
 place I come from. Both of us, or we will leave our bones 
 here. He is my servant and he follows on."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 CROSSDALE'S GLASS is SMALL BUT IT is 
 
 HIS OWN AND HE DRINKS FROM IT 
 
 Half an hour later Crossdale left Jehanospelz, the leader 
 of fifty good men and true, riding at their head in the bril- 
 liant moonlight, the golden light penetrating the forest, cov- 
 ering the hills, down whose dark sides they clattered. Cross- 
 dale experienced the singular sensation of retracing with 
 untrammeled sight the road over which he had gone blind- 
 folded an hour or so before. They descended a hill peak, 
 one of the tufa-like little mountains which had fascinated 
 him from the Danube boat. Back of him, the mediaeval 
 tower of Jehanospelz, which the daring revolutionary Prince 
 had made his stronghold, rose above the pines. No visitor 
 was ever more glad to get away from an unchosen host, and 
 he blessed the good fortune which had sent him forth again. 
 No matter toward what he rode, he was turning his back on 
 the Prince and his tower. The light lingered, blending with 
 the moonshine, silvering them as they rode. 
 
 Jeff Robinson began the pilgrimage alongside of his master, 
 but the negro soon fell back to the rear and his master for- 
 got him. 
 
 The mountain trail was ugly enough, but to any one ac- 
 customed to rough riding there was nothing unusual in its 
 precipitous descent, along sheer precipices, filled with moon- 
 shine, down into whose depths pebbles clattered from their 
 horses' hoofs. Sticking like a burr to Crossdale and stick-
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA S3 
 
 ing as well like a burr to his little red stallion, the Kar- 
 manian detailed by Prince John to conduct the expedition 
 rode on Crossdale's left. Stephen had been on fire for the 
 adventure from the moment that Sarvanarof outlined it in 
 the tower, and an idea which nothing but death would dis- 
 lodge took possession of him; a bullet alone could shoot this 
 spark out of his brain. 
 
 He adored the night ride on his first-rate little horse; in 
 spite of the fact that success or failure meant his own life, 
 if not that of a woman, he could not but respond to the 
 fascination and spirit of the ride. The air grew cold, and 
 it came refreshing and vivifying, strong with the scent of 
 balsam and cedar; and back of him the fifty revolutionary 
 riders rode like Tartars. They had taken an oath of good 
 faith to Crossdale, pledged themselves to follow the Ameri- 
 can and to return with him to Jehanospelz. 
 
 He did not ask himself whether he had confidence in the 
 weird ceremony in the courtyard under Prince John's win- 
 dow. He had confidence in himself and faith in his own 
 intention, and he was taut as a fiddlestring, keen as a sword, 
 and rode calling on his lucky stars. 
 
 The fellow at his side was a vulgar little Karmanian, low- 
 browed, beady-eyed, short-legged, and with a rolling voice 
 like a little thunder storm in his throat. Stephen had ob- 
 served him intently in Prince John's tower. The Prince had 
 called him immediately, confiding the American to his spe- 
 cial care, giving him minute directions, and as Crossdale lis- 
 tened, he realized how essential the man's good will was. 
 As Prince John talked, Crossdale noted the impression the 
 leader made upon his servant. Captain Zito received his 
 orders in an ugly silence, like a thorough discontent.
 
 54 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 After an hour or so the little group of riders came pelting 
 out of the forest, like so much gray shot, and took the open. 
 Before them the limitless moonlit silence spread, and Cross- 
 dale saw with satisfaction the forest disappearing behind 
 them. The horses settled down to a run, whilst the riders 
 crouched low in their saddles like Indians. He could not 
 help smiling at the thought of poor old Jeff going the pace 
 for life and death. There was nothing in sight on the face 
 of the steppes, no shrub or tree, only moonlight pouring over 
 the pink land. He heard over and over again the "Aara, 
 aara, ra, ra," the native order from the throats of the sol- 
 diers to their beasts. 
 
 How they rode! He drank in moonlight, seemed to 
 swallow it, with the fine dust thrown up to them from the 
 pelting hoofs of the little stallions; and for the first time 
 perceived the subtle perfume of the plains. After a little 
 he drew his horse up and called to his companion: "Stop, 
 Zorba (chief). I want to drink!" 
 
 Captain Zito started at Crossdale's authoritative tone; he 
 recognized the voice of a superior, of a man used to com- 
 mand. He threw back over his shoulder a gutteral order, and 
 the troop brought their horses to a halt. 
 
 Crossdale drank from the bottle in his pocket and ate 
 something from his pouch. He looked back past the rude, 
 Slav faces to find Jeff Robinson. It would have taken a 
 good deal to have impressed him, however, in this moment 
 of excitement; even Jeff's disappearance would have moved 
 him little. But he saw the negro hugging his saddle, cling- 
 ing like a crab to his mount, white as Crossdale, very nearly, 
 powdered with dust. He was a spectacle which at another 
 time would have made his master roar with laughter.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 55 
 
 "Buck up, Jeff! Pray for luck! Captain Zito," he said 
 sharply to the Karmanian, "let's get on." 
 
 As they rode together, never turning to look at the other 
 man, but throwing out his words to him, he said: "I picked 
 you out in the tower, when your chief was giving you 
 orders. You're a good chap not the kind of man to be led, 
 however; you should lead." 
 
 Zito listened, then rose in his saddle to scan the plains, in 
 search of the point where the Queen's motor should appear. 
 Crossdale understood, and there came to him an intense 
 desire to protect this woman, whose reputation for beauty 
 and intelligence and goodness had already given her, to him, 
 a strong personality. What a weird kick of Fate to cast him 
 in the middle of a Balkan desert to kidnap a Queen! 
 
 Zito this time drew his horse down and called halt, and 
 pointing with his short arm out into the moonlight: "There, 
 there, Excellency, Lord!" 
 
 Under the moon, not three miles away, Crossdale saw 
 a fleck, a speck. A cold chill struck him, for the thing was 
 beginning to take reality and form, a question of life, per- 
 haps death! In that little object that looked like a black 
 beetle on a pancake, was a woman, at the mercy of these 
 men! 
 
 "That is the Queen's motor, Excellency, Lord. She has 
 two outriders and the man on the box with the chauffeur 
 four people, and all ours." He laughed. But his laugh was 
 not mirthful; it was rather bitter and sardonic. 
 
 Crossdale said: "And Captain Refan Ugo's escort?" 
 
 "Excellency, Lord, her Majesty has been driven twenty 
 miles out of her way, as you were driven." 
 
 For lack of something to say, in order to collect his
 
 56 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 thoughts for a moment, the American said: "These mounts 
 of ours, Zito are they good for the return trip?" Again 
 the Karmanian's little bubbling chuckle. 
 
 "They could ride to hell and bring back the devil's wife, 
 Excellency, Lord." 
 
 "Ah," thought Crossdale deeply, "thank God I did not 
 let him go alone to meet a woman, the damned Greaser!" 
 
 The escort of the Queen had seen the advancing riders. 
 The distance between them could be made in a quarter of 
 an hour. There was not a moment to lose. Crude, clumsy 
 as his plan might be, it was his chance, and he would take 
 it, if it meant that the soldiers riddled him with bullets from 
 the guns slung across their backs! Crossdale had not learned 
 Karmanian dialect at his nurse's knee for nothing. He was 
 a born leader, an inspirer, and he believed in fate. Why 
 had he been sent, not these fellows alone, in this dramatic 
 fashion, if not to corrupt them, to entrain them for his own 
 ends? He murmured, as though to encourage himself, un- 
 der his breath: "Heljen/" 
 
 "Zito!" In Karmanian the word "listen" has a flexible 
 meaning. It means: "Hear and be blessed"; it means also; 
 "Hear and be cursed"; it is also a strong and powerful com- 
 mand, and as Crossdale said it now, out on the Karmanian 
 plain, it seemed to ring to the little captain like the sound 
 of steel. "Zito, listen!" Crossdale touched his fellow 
 rider on the breast, which was as well a Karmanian custom, 
 impelling respect and putting in a way a seal upon the other. 
 "Listen, you are out for success, cut out for greatness, 
 Brevo! But you are on the wrong track. Listen, then help 
 me to talk to these fellows." 
 
 Crossdale ventured a bold hypothesis. It had been born 
 in Prince John's tower.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 57 
 
 "Zito, I know you hate the Prince. You are sick of him 
 and his revolution. If you carry out his plan tonight, you 
 know as well as I do that you will be a marked man for the 
 Royalists, and more than likely the Prince will put you 
 out of the way, so that you may tell no tales. Listen! I 
 shall never go back to Jehanospelz, and you shall never go 
 back!" 
 
 He could not have told any one the sum and substance 
 of his impassioned words to this man, the words which he 
 said into Zito's eyes, at first sullen, then more and more 
 human under his spell. He never remembered what note 
 he struck and hammered on. He appealed to greed, vanity, 
 patriotism; raked up ideals; hurled words in low hot tones, 
 half English, half in dialect. He swayed the fellow. The 
 fifty good men and true paid little attention to them, glad 
 to munch and drink and smoke, waiting for orders in their 
 saddles. They were those who follow, not those who lead 
 ignorant, low-minded, half-dazed with reka. Crossdale 
 promised gold from America, safe-conduct to the great Re- 
 public. He spoke of Queen's rewards. 
 
 Zito had been impressed by Crossdale from the moment 
 he had bound him hand and foot and blindfolded him on 
 these selfsame plains. The American's attitude before Zito's 
 prince, his pale dignity, his courage, had impressed and 
 charmed the volatile temperament of the Slav. 
 
 And he did hate Sarvanarof. He had been a petty officer 
 in the Queen's regiment and had gone over to the revo- 
 lutionary forces, deserting from the army after a severe 
 punishment for some small offence. He was homesick for 
 Savia and his peasant wife, disgruntled and ripe for a new 
 desertion. The Prince indeed had ill-chosen his representa- 
 tive!
 
 58 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 Zito said, his eyes on the eager American: "Lord, Ex- 
 cellency, I am only one man! There are forty-nine of them, 
 but I think I know them. They are good boys, Excellency, 
 Lord. I shall speak to them. And when I stop you will 
 follow. Speak not long. Let us catch them hot. And when 
 I strike you on the breast speak ! " 
 
 Crossdale had never been so excited in his life. He 
 watched the little captain wheel; he heard him call out the 
 same word that Crossdale had so worked for all it was 
 worth; "Gradol Listen!" And then he heard the harangue, 
 saw Zito's fierce, energetic gestures, his working hands in 
 the air, hands that beat his own breast. He saw him crane 
 his short neck out and spit on the ground, rising in his 
 stirrups. He watched the man's excited appeal, which he 
 could not follow or understand, then looked from one to 
 another of the soldiers' faces heavy, sullen, unillumined, 
 and he could not tell if they were inclined to hew down Zito 
 and himself, or follow them. 
 
 He heard an appeal to them for loyalty to the Queen, 
 return to old customs, call for the desertion of Prince Sar- 
 vanarof, the revocation of their pledged word. And when 
 Zito smote him on the breast, not any too gentle a blow, 
 Crossdale was ready. He too stood up in his stirrups, cried 
 out: "H el jen, Las Renal" 
 
 He waited for the men to turn on him and shoot him 
 down. What would keep them from it? Only the curious 
 tide which sways mobs by sudden force and passion. Before 
 he could be disappointed by an ominous silence on the 
 part of the soldiers, or by their bursting into a cry of: 
 "Sava Jehanos!" he made a short, eager appeal in the dia- 
 lect, gathering together everything he could remember of
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 59 
 
 the words he had learned so long ago. They would be lords; 
 they would be rich. And he cried so earnestly the viva and 
 hail of this sovereign of a country he did not know that 
 the men broke into a storm of cheering, and the Queen's 
 escort, half a mile away, heard the: "Heljen! Heljen!" fill- 
 ing the still night air, and returned it. Lights of excitement 
 and exhilaration scintillating in his brain, the American 
 wheeled with Zito and rode off in the direction of the 
 Queen's motor, the fifty good men and true hot on their 
 heels. 
 
 There in the center of the plain, like a plum in a cake, a 
 fly on an amber mirror, not to be mistaken for a shrub or a 
 tree, stood that civilized vehicle of transportation a motor- 
 car. Crossdale could see on the box a chauffeur and another 
 man, which last sprang off and came round and stood with 
 two other guards. He had been assured that the servants 
 were spies of the revolutionary Prince. Things were com- 
 ing along! This was reality and the rest a dream. 
 
 Stephen Crossdale, of San Francisco, U. S. A., in the crux 
 of an extraordinary situation, in a few moments would take 
 his place among the melodramatic heroes: "The Man Who 
 Saves a Queen!" "The Democratic Yankee Who Put a 
 Spoke in the Wheel of a Petty Revolution!" And so forth. 
 Honors, publicity. Gosh! How it would read in a home 
 paper. 
 
 But the honors did not say a single thing to Stephen 
 Crossdale, whose good sense and a hatred of the ridiculous 
 would not let him lose his head. He tapped Captain Zito 
 on the breast. "Zito, you are the true chief here. This is 
 your job. It is your country and your Queen. Gad, man, it 
 is your chance to cut ice for yourself I I am not the chap to
 
 60 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 take your glory." He pushed forward the little Karmanian. 
 "Go on tell your. Queen any old lie you like, but, my boy, 
 keep me out of it. Understand?" He looked hard into the 
 eyes of the little fellow, who saw that the American meant 
 what he said. 
 
 "Tell her that you've recanted, your men are solid for 
 you, you've saved her from abduction. Ask pardon, safe- 
 conduct. Go along, Zito it is a great, great bit of luck 
 for you, old boy. We'll clatter along behind you until we 
 meet Captain Ugo and his tribe." 
 
 At these words the other's expression changed. He mut- 
 tered: "Urn um Ugo and his people safe-conduct 
 pardon " 
 
 Crossdale insisted, driving him toward the motor. 
 
 "Get along Queens should never wait! Cry a lot of 
 'H el jens I' we'll chorus you. But mind, don't you peep 
 my name." Now Crossdale caught the Karmanian by the 
 arm. "I am the type of man who keeps my word," he said 
 quietly. "If you say nothing whatsoever about me to the 
 Queen of Karmania, I will not betray your chief." 
 
 "Excellency," said the Karmanian, speaking very quickly 
 and with more feeling than Crossdale had seen him yet 
 display, "swear you will not betray us!" 
 
 "You bet I won't!" said Crossdale peacefully. "I do not 
 intend to get mixed up with your politics." 
 
 Zitc lifted Crossdale's hand to his forehead; he spat on the 
 ground between them, saying: "That is a blood sign in Kar- 
 mania, between you and me." 
 
 And he started off toward the motor. Crossdale walked 
 slowly back, with his bridle on his arm, sincerely pleased. 
 He had won a victory and he was keeping in the background.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 61 
 
 Captain Zito was welcomed by a murmured: "Saval" or 
 "Heljen/"How the devil could Crossdale tell? He could 
 see the little group round the motor. In the interval between 
 his impassioned harangue of the fifty good men and true, 
 Crossdale fell from his transcendant pinnacle. He felt secure 
 in the probability of a good performance. The Queen 
 of Karmania was no longer in danger of being kidnapped 
 on this occasion, at all events. She would not be called upon 
 to show her pluck and her courage; she would not ride blind- 
 folded, ignominiously, between himself and Captain Zito, 
 and he fondly believed that Prince John would not enter- 
 tain the royal visitor at Jehanospelz tonight. So far, so good. 
 He was gratified, but did not relish being in the limelight. 
 
 He could see a woman's face at the motor window. The 
 door was opened. He could see Captain Zito bend almost 
 double, a very profound salutation for a revolutionary 
 leader. Crossdale smiled. How capricious in their phases 
 the human sentiments are! The little company of Prince 
 John's men were contentedly smoking, apparently satisfied 
 with their sudden transition from hot-handed outlawry to 
 the role of protectors of their Sovereign. Crossdale heard 
 them break into the music of the Queen's last song: 
 "What shall we give to the rider?" 
 
 It came to him hoarsely from the throats of these ruffians, 
 but it had a certain rolling, rich beauty, and seemed fitting 
 at the moment. The Queen who had created the words and 
 the music must have thrilled. 'It had its thrill for Cross- 
 dale. What would have happened to Queen Karmen Mara 
 if he had not been knocked down and overpowered by 
 Prince John's men, and then constituted himself her cham- 
 pion? In an incredibly short time Captain Zito returned.
 
 62 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 Crossdale saw the chauffeur start the car, the footman 
 climbed back on the box, and with a guard on either side 
 the motor turned and moved rapidly off, retracing its road. 
 
 Captain Zito rode up to them quickly, wheeled, screamed 
 out an order to his men, which Crossdale did not quite fol- 
 low, but the men sprang to their saddles. The Karmanian 
 leaned over and struck Crossdale's horse and the lot of them 
 galloped at breakneck speed after the Queen's motor. Zito 
 had changed, his tenor had altered; there was a great trans- 
 formation in the little chief. Now he turned to Crossdale 
 a hang-dog, sullen little face, chopping out his words. 
 
 "I don't know what devil's spell you cast over me, back 
 there in the woods! When I got to the motor door I came 
 to my senses! The Queen frightened me to death; she is so 
 high, so cold. I could not speak to her. I saw she could 
 never have forgiven me. She would have had us all shot. 
 And what am I Zito Terowitz, of a butcher's family, a de- 
 serter, a peasant to speak to a Queen? I saw what a fool 
 you had made of me and what a double traitor I had been!" 
 
 They were riding fast as the Karmanian spoke, in his 
 broken English, mingled with the dialect. The lights on the 
 back of the motor were little red stars to follow. They had 
 twenty miles of road to retrace in order to regain the point 
 at which their route had been misdirected. But Crossdale 
 was quite certain that Ugo's caravan would come out to 
 meet them. 
 
 "If my chief does not murder me when I return," said 
 Captain Zito, "I will keep you under surveillance whilst you 
 are in Karmania. So long as you hold your faith with us 
 and don't betray the Prince, you will be safe. Karmania is 
 full of our people, and if you betray Jehanospelz, you will
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 63 
 
 meet the same fate as Baumgarten met at the hands of the 
 royalists." 
 
 "Shut up!" said the Californian. "When a man of my 
 type gives his word he keeps it. I have not three or four 
 masters, as you have. I have one word. And at all events, 
 the Queen has been put on the right road that is all I care 
 for." 
 
 Zito and Crossdale exchanged no further word between 
 them. The Karmanian was full of remorse and anger and 
 hot to be back on the homeward trail. They kept the 
 motor in sight for a certain time and then Zito called a halt, 
 and they waited in silence. It was a bad quarter of an hour 
 for Crossdale. The moon was waning. Finally, in the far 
 distance, beyond the almost indistinguishable pin point that 
 the motor had become, they could discern a blotch on the 
 plain, the caravan of Refan Ugo. 
 
 The captain of the fifty good men and true became a 
 screaming Tartar. He did not give his orders; he hurled 
 them forth at the men whom he himself now dominated 
 anew. Crossdale and his negro servant were torn from their 
 saddles. They took Jeff fighting like a bull; but Crossdale's 
 fight would have been barehanded against fifty men, for his 
 pistol was ripped from his hip-pocket; and they bound 
 Jeff and himself hand and foot again, and left them lying on 
 the plain. 
 
 Captain Zito, standing in front of him, spat again upon 
 the ground and made the sign of the Cross over the Ameri- 
 can. As he stood, glowering, above the man whom he had 
 overpowered, there was fury and passion on his face, but no 
 dislike. "There is an oath between us," he said. "Refan 
 Ugo's people will find you. Keep your word."
 
 64 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 Crossdale heard them go riding off to their savage and 
 impressive cry, now once more that of the revolutionary 
 party: "Sava, sava, Jehanos!" The sound of their going 
 had not yet died upon the air before the four men who had 
 accompanied the motor of the Queen came tearing past the 
 two men lying upon the ground. They rushed by like the 
 wind. Leaning down out of their saddles, they jeered and 
 laughed at these strangers, whom their chief had made the 
 sport of them all. They tore past to join their companions. 
 
 When there was no longer any sound to break the impres- 
 sive silence, when Crossdale could no longer hear any evi- 
 dence of the presence of either his enemies or a company of 
 rescue, he called out to Jefferson Robinson: "Hallo there, 
 Jeff!" 
 
 He had no doubt whatsoever that they would be found 
 and picked up, but perhaps not for hours. 
 
 "Boss! I say, Boss!" The negro whispered in a sepulchral 
 and guarded tone, as though his poor voice could make any 
 impression on that vast unbroken silence, or whether it 
 mattered who heard, "Did my eyes deceive me, or did I see 
 a motor kyar standing in de middle of this hyar wilderness?" 
 
 "Yes, you certainly saw a first rate flivver, Jeff." 
 
 "Well, suh, Mr. Crossdale, why didn't we get aboard?" 
 
 "Well, because we're not Kings, Jeff." 
 
 The negro gasped. His voice was something between a 
 sob and an effort to be as plucky as his master. "Well, I 
 reckon we done missed de last car tonight, Boss. I reckon 
 it's an even chance that we ever get back to cibilization." 
 
 "I guess that's right, Jeff," said his master. "Could you 
 roll over to me and get me a cigarette out of my breast- 
 pocket with your teeth?"
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 TO ALWAYS KEEP IN MIND THE REASON FOR ONE'S 
 
 JOURNEY AND TO BE ABLE TO FORGET THE INN BEDS 
 
 ARE TWO OF THE ATTRIBUTES OF THE GOOD TRAVELER 
 
 The thing which amused Crossdale above all else was the 
 way in which he fell into and fell out of his adventure with- 
 out causing the least sensation in Karmania. The fact 
 that he had effected the escape of the sovereign of the 
 country from abduction by her rebellious subjects passed 
 Crossdale did not know into what annals, certainly into none 
 that he ever expected to read. The fact that the engineer 
 of the new Karmanian State Railway, who had come from 
 the U. S. A. to work for the Government, lay trussed like 
 an ignominious turkey for hours on the cold face of the 
 Karmanian steppes until the morning dew penetrated his 
 bones and threatened to lay the seeds for a jolly good attack 
 of inflammatory rheumatism, to say the least cut no 
 ice at all in the minds of the Karmanians, as far as he 
 could tell. 
 
 In the morning Refan Ugo's search party gathered him up 
 like an unimportant mass of sacking or a bag of coffee, re- 
 leased and untied him and his man servant, and drove 
 them in a mule cart to the famous crossroads from which 
 his route and that of the Queen of Karmania had deviated 
 twenty-four hours before. Except for the cords which had 
 bound Jeff and himself, and which were frugally rolled up in
 
 66 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 the back of the mule cart; except for a stiff, bruised, numb 
 condition of back and limbs, and a feeling in his heart of 
 mingled disgust, amusement and triumph, there was noth- 
 ing left to Crossdale of his first experience in the Kingdom. 
 
 He was scarcely in a fit condition then to appreciate the 
 originality of Refan Ugo's caravan, waiting to meet the 
 rescuing mule cart, with which he should have joined up the 
 day before. He had never traveled with anything that 
 looked like it, however, before. Two horses, with English 
 saddles, the only commonplace objects in the group of some 
 hundred soldiers and servants, waited beside tents of yel- 
 low canvas at the crossroads between Tamaresk and Cye, 
 between, Crossdale could have informed them, Tamaresk 
 and the rebel army at Jehanospelz ; but no doubt they knew 
 it quite as well as he did. 
 
 At rest, busily feeding on bunches of grass, conveniently 
 adjusted where they could bite into it and devour it to the 
 last spear, a group of long-tailed, under sized splendid little 
 stallions, with native saddles of red and green and blue 
 leather, flanked the encampment. Close to his beast, either 
 cross-legged in front of him, or standing patiently by the 
 saddle, were the riders, in full trousers, soft wrinkled boots, 
 and broidered jackets and tarbushes. Many of the horses 
 carried bright colored boxes of blue and yellow, painted 
 with extraordinary skill with religious pictures or scenes 
 from the history of the Karmanian republic and monarchy. 
 
 A bit further on was a detachment of the Queen's Guard, 
 in myrtle green, a color whose tone and quality Crossdale 
 grew to know well. The group, gay, barbaric, colorful and 
 decorative, might have been rubbed into existence by Alad- 
 din with his lamp. The officer in command came up to the
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 67 
 
 mule cart from which Stephen Crossdale got out without 
 assistance, and from which Jefferson Robinson was carried 
 bodily, in profound slumber, from which nothing but a pro- 
 longed cry of "Sava, sava, Jehanos!" would have awakened 
 him. 
 
 The Queen's officer came forward, affably, pleasantly, 
 with an expression on his face which Crossdale scarcely 
 knew whether to find humorous or sarcastic. He stood 
 stiffly and saluted with the back of his hand pressed against 
 his forehead. He said to the American, in excellent Eng- 
 lish: 
 
 "I am Lieutenant Stanislas Korvan, of the Queen's 
 Guard, Mr. Crossdale. I bring the compliments and 
 apologies of Captain Ugo. He is on duty with the escort 
 of the Queen. He is sorry not to be here." 
 
 "By Jove!" thought the American to himself. "If that 
 is all he is going to say about it, he won't get anything 
 more from me! " And he returned curtly: "That's all right. 
 See that my man is looked after, will you? What I am con- 
 cerned about is my luggage. It did not leave Tamaresk 
 with me; I understood it was to follow in a few hours." 
 And he asked, as though it might have been checked from 
 Boston to New York: "Have you heard anything of it? 
 Has it turned up?" 
 
 The officer smiled under his close-cropped moustache. He 
 liked Crossdale's nonchalance. He pointed to one of the 
 little tents, which to Crossdale was the most inviting-looking 
 thing he had ever seen. Sore as though he had been beaten, 
 dirty and hungry, he wanted a bath, a bed, a clean 
 shirt in short, some of the attractions of the civilization 
 for which Jeff had pined from the beginning. "Part of
 
 68 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 your luggage is in the tent, Mr. Crossdale. The rest is 
 strapped on the mules and will follow on." 
 
 Crossdale could see within the flap of the tent a military 
 bed; there was a native kitchen in full play in the open, and 
 he smelt food. If this Karmanian had not been such a total 
 stranger and such a confounded stick, he would have 
 slapped him on the back and wrung his hand in sheer content. 
 
 "This," said the officer, "is the best we can do on the 
 plains. You will find hot water, and I dare say you can 
 make shift for a wash-up." 
 
 Crossdale went into the little peaked room, dropped the 
 tent flap behind him, and faced two of his valises and the 
 preparations for a hot bath. Not one question had been 
 asked him, not one remark had been made about his extraor- 
 dinary entrance into the country. It puzzled him and made 
 him mad. From that moment until they reached the village 
 of Cye, a night and two days' journey further on, he 
 answered no questions and asked none of his traveling com- 
 panion. 
 
 They journeyed the following day across the steppes, 
 through a violet mist, covering the plains, and when the 
 peculiar mirage lifted, Crossdale saw before him the foot- 
 hills of the Karmanian ranges. Their rise had been gradual, 
 and there was splendor in the heaven-sweeping mountains, 
 climbing sheer from the lavender land into the sky. From 
 crests to the foothills dark forests dropped their inky veils. 
 
 "See, Mr. Crossdale," said the young man riding by his 
 side, "that is Mount Nepta, the highest peak in the Kar- 
 manian ranges, and at its base is the entrance of Baum- 
 garten's tunnel, the entrance which he made on the Tamaresk
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 69 
 
 side. Tomorrow you will sleep within a few miles of the 
 point where poor Baumgarten's tunnel debouches." 
 
 Tunnels and royal State railways, the idea of matter- 
 of-fact and every day engineering, came with a sudden 
 shock to Crossdale, intoxicated as he was now with the 
 open-air life and the fascination of his journey. The country 
 was so beautiful and so weird. It seemed a crime to scar it 
 with the lines of modern transportation and to break the 
 silences with the toot of engines and the noise of steam. 
 Crossdale could not take his eyes from the black curtain of 
 forests. That curtain fell between him and Savia! 
 
 "The capital," his companion said, "is a jewel. It is the 
 most beautiful city in the East." 
 
 "Every man's home town is good to him, Lieutenant 
 Korvan," said Crossdale succinctly. "I have got a little 
 ranch in California that does not need me to speak for it." 
 
 The young man bowed indulgently. "Wait, Mr. Cross- 
 dale," he said, "and see." And then Lieutenant Korvan 
 asked his first question of his traveling companion. "You 
 are a democrat?" 
 
 "To the backbone," said Crossdale stoutly. Whether 
 this pleased Lieutenant Korvan or not he had no means of 
 knowing. 
 
 "It will be well," said the Karmanian gently, "to disguise 
 your republican fervor in Karmania. We are conserva- 
 tive." They were riding toward the village of Cye, already 
 apparent in the distance in a cluster of yellow stucco 
 houses, its little spirals of smoke rising on the air. 
 
 "I am a democrat," said Crossdale, "but I am not a 
 politician, and I don't care a whoop about other people's
 
 70 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 governments. But," he said frankly, lifting his fine head 
 and meeting the eyes of his conductor, "I came across a 
 very distinguished and interesting man on the Danube boat." 
 
 He waited. The Karmanian showed a polite but distinctly 
 tentative interest. "He was your former Prime Minister," 
 said the young man, "Prince John Sarvanarof." 
 
 "Ah, yes." Korvan nodded. "He is an exile. Before the 
 war broke out he was Prime Minister That, Mr. Cross- 
 dale," he pointed expressively, "is the village of Cye." 
 
 It was sunset when the caravan drew up in front of the 
 little inn on the single rustic street, whose narrow roadway 
 led directly into the wide Karmanian plains. Some hundred 
 canvas-covered stucco huts, their yellow walls hung with 
 drying fruits, ears of scarlet corn, yellow chains of tiny 
 tomatoes, clustered like jewels against the stucco; a white 
 church dome, like a round moon against the dark forest; a 
 ruined castle, with the town clustering round it like children 
 at the knees of age; a thickly populated little mountain 
 hamlet this was Cye, a little township like hundreds of 
 others throughout the Balkans. 
 
 In front of the tavern, as the caravan drew up, the 
 peasants were dancing and singing, whirling in their stiff 
 skirts, and the tune the musicians were playing was familiar 
 to Crossdale; it seemed to pursue him, to follow him every- 
 where. 
 
 "What shall be given 
 
 To him who comes riding . . . . " 
 
 In lovely little Cye Crossdale waited three days, figura- 
 tively kicking his heels against the inn walls, with nothing
 
 71 
 
 more amusing to do than to study the peasant life from the 
 inn terrace, observing the manners and customs of the half- 
 barbaric, wholly delightful habitants, on their way from 
 market to town and from town to their farms. 
 
 In a rude little room in the roof of the rude little inn in 
 the heart of the warm hamlet, the perfume of the September 
 fields around it, with a constant performance in the shape of 
 singing and dancing going on in the inn yard from noon to 
 midnight, Crossdale made better acquaintance with Lieu- 
 tenant Korvan whilst waiting instructions. He liked 
 reticence; he was reserved by temperament. But Lieutenant 
 Stanislas Korvan rather overdid the noncommittal act. 
 Crossdale was forced to take his cue from the young man. 
 He was far too clever to put questions to this official which 
 might be evaded, and yet he was Yankee enough to have a 
 lively curiosity about many things, and chiefly he wanted to 
 know what had happened to the Queen of Karmania and 
 how much had been told her of the truth of their mutual 
 adventure. 
 
 Throughout the first twelve hours he had slept like a log, 
 and as for Jeff Robinson, the bubonic plague seemed to have 
 struck him, and after one or two attempts with a wet towel 
 and after shying his boots at the negro, his master left him 
 to sleep his sleep out. 
 
 At the end of the second day in desperation Crossdale 
 said to Korvan: "For a chap who is making a study of 
 morgues, Korvan, Cye would be of prime interest. Frankly, 
 I have used it up!" 
 
 From the front yard of the inn, where he sat with Korvan 
 at a little table drinking the weakest attenuation of the fiery
 
 72 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 reka, smoking countless delicious Karmanian cigaretis, he 
 saw many things go by and some few events transpire. He 
 saw a compact, businesslike-looking little army of soldiers 
 ride away toward the west toward, Crossdale fully believed, 
 Jehanospelz. They departed to a chorus of royal and loyal 
 huzzas. Prince John was going to have a lively time of it! 
 
 But he and Stanislas Korvan talked of nothing less than 
 of politics and on their three short days of acquaintance- 
 ship they talked on a great many subjects, from the opera 
 in New York to the latest type of agricultural tool. He liked 
 the young man thoroughly, and it amused Crossdale down 
 to the ground to see how well he handled his job, playing the 
 part of a courteous host, in as far as such a thing was pos- 
 sible in their primitive surroundings, and also of the astute 
 and well trained diplomat. 
 
 "He would make a fine secret service man," Crossdale 
 thought to himself, "and I dare say he is one." 
 
 Over the chimney piece in the tap-room of the little low- 
 ceiled, black-raftered inn, hung a chromo, with a frame 
 braided in the Karmanian colors. On the night of their 
 arrival Crossdale stood in front of it and turned pale. To 
 Korvan, who had bent down to light his cigarette with a 
 coal, the American asked: "Is that the Queen?" 
 
 Korvan rose from his crouching position and answered 
 briefly: "The Princess Mariska." 
 
 Could it be true? There she was, in a cheap, multicolored 
 silk frame, hanging above the row of pewter mugs and a 
 vociferous wooden clock! She looked out at him with her 
 grave eyes. 
 
 "The Queen's sister!" he exclaimed softly, more to him-
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 73 
 
 self than to his companion, and stood transfixed, looking 
 up at the cheap chromo. "By Jove! " he murmured, laughing 
 a little. 
 
 Instantly to his mind came the remembrance of his old 
 portfolio, with its collection of treasured letters and the little 
 foreign photograph of an unknown girl. He could see it, 
 with a smart photographer's name in gilt at the bottom. 
 The little photograph seemed to have grown, to have 
 matured, and there it hung, enlarged, different, and yet 
 startlingly the same. The pewter mugs and the native clock 
 disappeared as he stared, and his collection of pipes and 
 the college man's souvenirs took the place of the things on 
 the mantel-shelf. 
 
 "If it is true," he mused, "this chap here must never 
 guess for a moment what it means to me. Perhaps it is only 
 a resemblance probably so." 
 
 Korvan watched him, and said with a slight smile: "You 
 seem fascinated by the picture." 
 
 "Well," said the American, reluctantly removing his eyes, 
 "you can't blame me. So that is the Princess Mariska!" 
 And he added, "I don't believe the Queen's got anything on 
 her for looks. Any photographs of the Queen about?" 
 
 "You won't find one in the Kingdom," said Korvan. "It's 
 against the law to display a picture of Her Majesty. King 
 Peter is frightfully jealous. There is a heavy fine and danger 
 of imprisonment if the law is infringed." 
 
 Crossdale turned reluctantly away from his contemplation 
 of the picture above the mantel shelf. Encouraged by this 
 personal break in the dull day, he tried to continue the 
 subject in question, but Korvan would not follow him; and
 
 74 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 the officer's phlegm was a bit too much for Crossdale's 
 impatience. "Gad," he said shortly, "if there is any legiti- 
 mate subject your Government permits us to discuss, let's 
 get on to it." He determined to wait the three days out and 
 if Refan Ugo failed to put in an appearance, to demand an 
 escort back to Tamaresk and to leave the Kingdom. 
 
 Another subject which appeared to be taboo was the work 
 to be done on the royal state railway. Korvan appeared 
 to ignore the reason for Crossdale's coming to Karmania. 
 The atmosphere created by the young man's cut-and-dried 
 choice of subjects for conversation made Crossdale violent 
 in his dislike of autocracy. In desperation he thought to 
 himself: "It wouldn't take much to make me cut away and 
 join that old brigand, and if I had been born Karmanian 
 I would be a revolutionist!" 
 
 He said to Stanislas Korvan, one night before the res- 
 taurant door, when the musicians started to play: "If Her 
 Majesty is going to live up to her poetical promises, she's 
 got a long order outstanding." 
 
 Nervous, restless, bored and at the end of his patience, he 
 broke loose during the afternoon of the third day. "See 
 here, old top," he said to his companion, "I have found out 
 where the present overseer of the railway and his staff hang 
 out. If you want to stay here and sample reka, do, but I 
 am going to light out for the railroad yards and Baumgar- 
 ten's tunnel. I want to see the Cye part of the operations." 
 
 They were coming out of the inn door together, and as 
 they walked down the little path from the terrace of the 
 restaurant to the high road, Crossdale heard a delicious
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 75 
 
 ringing, like the music of old-time sleigh-bells, and Korvan 
 put his hand on Crossdale's arm. 
 
 "Look," he said, pointing toward the forest and speaking 
 in a tone of greater frankness than before, "over there, 
 about two hours' drive, is the Queen's hunting-box, Las 
 Restaurus, the Rest House." 
 
 "Splendid!" exclaimed Crossdale. "Glad to know there 
 is something within any distance. Now that you seem free 
 to mention anything so definite as a house, I am glad to hear 
 about it. So the Queen hunts, does she, and keeps a hunt- 
 ing-box, as well as writes verse and misleading songs? What 
 does she hunt?" 
 
 Here Crossdale saw his luggage being carried out of the 
 inn and Jeff Robinson, awake at last and dressed for travel, 
 came out, following the inn servants. "It is growing late," 
 said Stanislas Korvan. "Tonight we sleep at Las Restaurus. 
 Are you ready?" 
 
 A low sledge on runners, the seats covered with green linen 
 striped in white and scarlet, rugs of fur over the box of the 
 seat Crossdale saw the most original vehicle he had ever 
 seen in his life waiting before the inn door. The sledge might 
 have sprung from a pumpkin struck by a wand. It was an 
 amazing little carriage. All the peasant horses and mules 
 were hung with bells; but the tinkle and jangle of the bells 
 on the four gray stallions harnessed to the sledge was a 
 particularly musical sound. The first horse was mounted by 
 a postilion, in myrtle green, with high boots and round fur 
 cap. The little equipage was unmistakably royal and belong- 
 ing to the court stables. But Crossdale did not move. 
 
 "Lieutenant Korvan," he said quietly, "I have a feeling
 
 76 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 that you are a fine chap and quite all right, but I don't ride 
 in any sledge in September into a wilderness, or follow any 
 procession until you have doped out to me in plain English 
 where I am going." 
 
 Korvan had become quite human. He seemed delighted 
 to be starting away. "Oh," he exclaimed, "Mr. Crossdale, 
 I understand perfectly, but I give you my word of honor 
 everything is en regie. Things will be easier and more agree- 
 able from now on. You are the guest of the Prime Minister. 
 He is coming tomorrow expressly to meet you and in two 
 hours we will be in the hunting lodge of Her Majesty." 
 
 "Good!" exclaimed the American. "It sounds ripping, 
 but I am not accustomed to being a royal guest or to inter- 
 views with Prime Ministers. What the deuce does he want 
 to meet me for with all this ceremony?" They were walk- 
 ing together down to the sledge. 
 
 "Why," returned Korvan, "all the hopes of Karmania 
 are centered on you just now, Mr. Crossdale. The Royal 
 State Railroad, you know, is in your hands." He smiled 
 affably. 
 
 Crossdale felt that the ban over him was lifted and as 
 they took their seats in the treja and his luggage was put in 
 and Jefferson Robinson climbed sulkily onto the box next 
 to the Caucasian driver, Korvan continued: 
 
 "Her Majesty has been in Paris, and has just returned to 
 Karmania and for several days, with her sister, the Princess 
 Mariska, she has been en villiagature at the lodge. That is 
 why we have been obliged to hang out here. The formali- 
 ties are strict in Karmania, but the royal party is on its way 
 to the capital by the plains and Pratz Zenoe."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 77 
 
 As they started, to the chorus of bells, Crossdale said: 
 "I came very near meeting the Queen of Karmania not long 
 ago." 
 
 Korvan lifted his eyebrows, but did not show any great 
 surprise. "In Paris? I dare say." 
 
 "I couldn't really tell you the name of the place, but we 
 missed each other by the merest chance." 
 
 They glided and slipped over the pine-covered roads, 
 velvet-smooth under the sledge runners. Their route led 
 immediately into the unspoiled, unharvested forests of the 
 ancient mountain sides. Purple-trunked trees, pink cedars, 
 rose on all sides, thick and close. The scent of spice and 
 balm hung heavy on the air, and it grew rapidly very cold. 
 
 After a drive of more than two hours, without any warn- 
 ing the sledge ran suddenly into a wide clearing in the pines 
 and the driver swung up before the lighted doorway of a low 
 stucco country house, red-roofed, with bright curtains before 
 the windows, through which the warm light shone. The 
 house had a fine air of elegance and comfort and glowed 
 with welcome to the stranger. The American felt for the 
 first time that there was a possibility that the promises of the 
 Queen's folk song might be fulfilled. 
 
 If the photograph he had seen over the inn chimney were 
 one and the same with the little picture at home, anything 
 might be possible. The bells had told their approach; lined 
 up on the porch a row of men servants, in myrtle green 
 liveries, with high soft boots and silver chains round their 
 necks, waited stiffly for the treja's arrival. 
 
 As Crossdale followed Korvan across the red-tiled terrace 
 to the lodge door, three Russian wolfhounds, thin, gray,
 
 78 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 long-nosed and long-haired, sprang toward him in a splendid 
 greeting. 
 
 "Hallo!" exclaimed Crossdale enthusiastically. "That's 
 good dogs! And friendly dogs !" He glanced approvingly 
 at the servants, serious-faced, two of them with long gray 
 beards. "Dogs and old servants," he thought, "that is 
 a first rate beginning."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 HE LEARNS THAT HE HAS FALLEN IN LOVE WITH A MERE 
 WOMAN, WITH NO HISTORY WORTH RECALLING 
 
 As he went in from the cold of the open, the luxury and 
 the gay coloring of the living room dazzled his eyes. Across 
 a six-foot red-brick chimney burned a fire of great logs, 
 filling the room with resinous sweetness. Rugs of boar and 
 bear skin covered the floor. The Queen's colors white, 
 myrtle-green and scarlet dominated in the decorations. 
 Glowing, harmonious, the room welcomed the traveler with 
 an oriental exuberance. 
 
 There were three of the Russian wolfhounds Bela, 
 Tristan and Griffen, and the female Bela, crying and whin- 
 ing like a human thing, sprang on Crossdale, resting her 
 forepaws on his chest to lick his face. She seemed as though 
 she greeted her master in Crossdale. Korvan was apparently 
 delighted with the dogs' welcome of the guest. 
 
 "I assure you I have never seen them like this with any 
 one before, except their master," he cried. 
 
 Crossdale wound his hand in the collar of the female. 
 
 "Prince John bred and trained them and they have never 
 forgotten him." 
 
 As the travelers gave up their furs to the footman, Korvan 
 looked about the living room as though he loved it. "This," 
 he said, "is Her Majesty's favorite place, but in point of
 
 80 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 fact it is Prince John's creation. He is a famous wolf 
 hunter and he built this lodge for himself. It seems only 
 yesterday that he left it. What rooms have you prepared 
 for his Excellency?" And as the steward replied, Korvan's 
 face illumined. "Splendid! They have given you the 
 Prince's own suite. No one has occupied them for a long 
 time." He put his hand on Crossdale's arm. "I believe 
 special good luck is coming to you, Crossdale. We have 
 a proverb 'To those who are fated to climb high all steps 
 are golden.' " 
 
 They followed the chief steward down a long corridor 
 until a thick-set cedar door was pushed open into an apart- 
 ment bright as a painted cedar box and full of comfortable, 
 luxurious things. Crackling coals of pine shot yellow sparks 
 from a freshly lighted fire, and across the deepset windows 
 green curtains, with the Queen's arms in white and scarlet, 
 were jealously drawn. Softly lit by candles in iron candle- 
 sticks, the room spoke delightfully to the traveler of the 
 rebel prince's personality. Welcome, it seemed to say, 
 welcome, Stephen Crossdale of San Francisco! A democrat 
 welcomes you! 
 
 The luxury of the apartment seemed unfitting for a com- 
 monplace young man. His own bungalow had impressed him 
 as lacking in simplicity, but this surpassed anything he had 
 ever imagined. The furniture was heavy and inlaid, the 
 bed piled with eiderdown covers in green silk; and in the 
 adjoining room a steaming bath sunk into the floor, a Turkish 
 robe and slippers, waited, ready and inviting. 
 
 When the servants had left him, he turned to express his 
 appreciation to Korvan, but found himself alone, save for
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 81 
 
 his own servant. At the sight of Jeff, Crossdale laughed 
 aloud. The negro seemed incongruous beyond words in the 
 oriental richness of the surroundings. Master and man stared 
 at each other, as though across a dream. But Jeff had been 
 bottled up too long; he had scarcely exchanged a word with 
 his master for days. Now, with one hand at the side of his 
 mouth, he dropped his voice to a sepulchral tone: 
 
 "Doan like it, Boss. It's sure some fake house. I bet 
 yo' it an't de reel t'ing." 
 
 "Nonsense! Don't ever say the word 'civilization' to me 
 again!" 
 
 "And, Boss," whispered the negro, chuckling inimitably, 
 as he opened the valises and began to lay out his master's 
 clothes, "if you say de wode 'boss' to me 'fo' ma laigs thaw 
 out I'll bust. I nebber seen a boss less'n a mule I could 
 stay on for mo' 'n mile'n my life, anyhow! I ain't bin 
 raised to boss ridin', Boss, 'n to think I'se been nailed to a 
 natural born Garden of Eden boss fer days 'n nights gets me." 
 
 "That's enough, Robinson. And I want you to keep your 
 mouth shut here, and your eyes open understand?" 
 
 The man was as trustworthy as the sun itself. He would 
 have laid his life down for Crossdale. 
 
 "Any tomfoolery on your part might cost us both " 
 Crossdale caught himself up. "I don't like to exaggerate," 
 he said, "it isn't my way. Shut up that's all." 
 
 In the hunting room an hour later, Korvan and Cross- 
 dale, opposite each other at the far ends of the six-foot table, 
 tasted the bounty of the Queen. A whole deer or a boar was 
 often served at this board at hunt dinners. The superb 
 pewter service, a hundred years old, bright as silver, was
 
 82 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 marked by the Queen's crest. They were served by six 
 valets in myrtle green and snowy white muslin trousers, and 
 russet boots with soles soft as silk. 
 
 Crossdale fed the dogs from his hand, and whenever he 
 moved he was conscious of the soft, firm body of one of these 
 silent friends. Griffen was the father, solemn as a wolf, a 
 tragic dog, sad-faced, with questions in his eyes; eternally he 
 seemed asking for the whereabouts of his beloved master. 
 But Bela and Tristan were young dogs and full of the hope- 
 fulness of life and of faith in the new friend. As Crossdale 
 glanced up at the trophies of the chase upon the wall, boar 
 heads, stags' heads, one great gray wolf's head caught his 
 attention. 
 
 "Yes," nodded his companion, "wolves packs of them. 
 We shoot them all the year round in these forests. I dare 
 say his Excellency will arrange a wolf hunt for you before 
 you cross the mountain to Savia." 
 
 Savory food, curiously spiced, wine like blood and amber 
 in the pewter cups, warmed their veins, served to release 
 Korvan's tongue. Tradition, instructions were forgotten and 
 before the evening ended over the coffee and liqueurs, Cross- 
 dale found that he was listening to a real man. 
 
 "You talked with Prince John Sarvanarof on the boat, 
 Crossdale, didn't you?" Korvan began confidentially. "I 
 dare say that Refan Ugo filled you up with a lot of lies 
 later, about the Prince?" 
 
 Crossdale shrugged. "Lies?" he repeated. "How the 
 devil should I know? I am new to Karmania." 
 
 "Ugo hated the Prime Minister, and he was cordially 
 hated in return by the Prince."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 83 
 
 "That is quite natural opposite parties." 
 
 "I don't know," said Korvan thoughtfully. "It would be 
 a very hard thing to hate Prince John unless you had a per- 
 sonal reason." And he added, "Refan Ugo was the chap 
 who betrayed him, so you understand the situation between 
 those two, don't you?" 
 
 Crossdale laughed. Between the two men on the floor 
 lay the wolfhounds in graceful and picturesque attitudes; 
 Bela's head was across Crossdale's feet. 
 
 "Yes, I can understand very well," he said. "I fancy 
 that each man of them is waiting to get the other one's pelt, 
 but for my part I find your exile a thoroughly good sort." 
 
 "Ah!" murmured Korvan, with unmistakable warmth, 
 and then caught himself up. "He is the greatest Karmanian 
 since the days of Caesar's General, and he would have suc- 
 ceeded in his revolution if it had not been for one weak 
 joint in his armor." 
 
 "Too great ambition, I reckon," said Crossdale. "That's 
 where they all collapse." 
 
 But Korvan looked at him steadily, and dropping his 
 voice, although there was no one there but the dogs to hear, 
 said: "Prince John loved the Queen." 
 
 Crossdale listened. The bell of romance was beginning 
 to ring. 
 
 "Well, he is a very dramatic personality altogether, isn't 
 he?" said the American. 
 
 Korvan continued: "King Peter trusted him as he trusted 
 no one in the world. They are brothers, you know. It is 
 Tristan and Isolde all over again. The Queen and her 
 sister were daughters of a Karmanian brigand, and the King
 
 84 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 fell in love with Karmen Mara when she was a child. He 
 saw her dancing at one of the village festivities and he went 
 mad about her. He sent both girls to England to be edu- 
 cated. Prince John went over to escort the Princesses back 
 to court when Karmen Mara was sixteen. Of course he fell 
 in love with her and did his best to persuade her to elope 
 with him and I dare say she would have done so" Kor- 
 van spoke harshly and with scant respect "she is capricious 
 and impulsive but the Princess Mariska saved the situa- 
 tion." 
 
 Crossdale mused, thinking of his picture. "Well, that 
 must have been at least ten or twelve years ago." 
 
 "Yes," said Korvan. "And when she came back King 
 Peter married her. He is twenty-five years older than the 
 Queen." 
 
 In order to change the subject, realizing perhaps he had 
 said too much, Korvan added: "You will be able to com- 
 pare the two Prime Ministers for yourself tomorrow." 
 
 Crossdale rose indolently and stretching out his arms 
 said: "Well, tonight I am going to compare that glorious 
 bed of Prince John's with the bag of pebbles at the Cye 
 inn. I feel as though I should never wake up again if I once 
 fell into a good sound sleep." 
 
 Standing there, the dogs rising with him, stretching out, 
 too, long and lazily, yawning with their great wolvish jaws, 
 the American, as though it were a last thought, asked indif- 
 ferently: "And who is the Princess Mariska in love with?" 
 
 Korvan, bending down to stroke Griffen, turned purple 
 red. Crossdale, in order not to display too great interest in 
 the Princess, had his eyes on the wolf's head above the
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 85 
 
 chimney piece. He did not see his companion's changing 
 color. 
 
 "The Princess Mariska is a very different story. She is 
 not a Queen, not even royal nothing but a mere woman." 
 
 Korvan started toward the door, followed by the dogs. 
 
 "A mere woman?" laughed Crossdale lightly. "Happy 
 princess, with no history." 
 
 Prince John's bed was all it promised and Crossdale, under 
 the light, warm covers, watched the dying fire, dosing before 
 he fell into a profound sleep. So he would have slept till 
 morning, but a sound at the open window, wide to the night, 
 waked him suddenly; and he was out of bed, in the middle 
 of the floor, to receive an agile figure which crept in the 
 moonlight over the window-sill into the room. 
 
 Although roused from heavy sleep, Crossdale was 
 thoroughly alive. The dog, who had been sleeping before 
 the fire, rose leisurely with no sound of protest, and stood 
 moving his great tail slowly to and fro, stretching out his 
 paws as though midnight messengers were commonplace 
 occurrences. But Crossdale did not share his point of 
 view. He saw before him a native servant, so like the others 
 that he could not have distinguished him. The man made a 
 profound salutation and held out to Crossdale a letter. 
 
 Looking quietly into the fellow's eyes Crossdale said 
 quickly, in English: "You have barked up the wrong tree, 
 Ali Baba! You have brought your special delivery to the 
 wrong house!" 
 
 Like a bob cat, whose habits Crossdale knew so well, he 
 sprang at the man, seized him by the back of the neck and
 
 86 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 around the waist, picked him up like a skein of wool, pitched 
 him out of the window and heard him fall heavily on the 
 ground without. 
 
 Then he locked the window securely and drew the cur- 
 tains. On the floor, with Bela standing guard over it, was the 
 note he had brought to Crossdale. For half a second the 
 young man thought: "Perhaps it is from the Queen!" He 
 had always a lurking hope that she might in some way or 
 other have heard of the adventure. He looked down at the 
 little slip of paper close to the paw of the wolfhound. 
 
 "Put it in the fire for me, Bela, or eat it! I am inclined 
 to think it belongs to your former master." 
 
 But he picked the letter up, turned it over thoughtfully. 
 It was a thick envelope, without any superscription whatso- 
 ever. Nevertheless, he opened it. It ran: 
 "My dear Mr. Crossdale: 
 
 "I forgive you for your rescue of the Queen, and I under- 
 stand your gallantry, and like you none the less for it. 
 
 "You are a clever young man, and this will make you 
 persona grata in the kingdom. In this way you will be 
 able to approach Her Majesty. Lucky Crossdale! In this 
 envelope you will find a letter to the Queen of Karmania, 
 unaddressed for safety's sake. For the good -of the country 
 and for her own good I ask you to deliver this letter in per- 
 son to the Queen, if you can do so. 
 
 "You are not a good reader of the times if you think that 
 because a few of my men have been taken prisoner that the 
 republican cause is lost. 
 
 "In Las Restaurus, where this will be brought to you, 
 you will be occupying my rooms. You will see by this how
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 87 
 
 well I know everything that is happening to you, Mr. 
 Stephen Crossdale. Think of me in Jehanospelz; I shall 
 think of you. Build your tunnel well; remain true to your 
 democratic principles. We are brothers; we have a com- 
 mon ideal, and when the railroad runs to Roda we will be 
 with you to celebrate the occasion. When you open the 
 tunnel from Cye to the capital, we will meet. Until then: 
 Viva las Raypublikos Jehanos!" 
 
 Crossdale turned the letter over, looked at it, then went 
 and laid it on the ashes of the fire, staring down at it, his 
 face suffused with amusement, and as he turned to go back 
 to bed he said confidentially to Bela: "Well, I don't 
 see it, do you? And between you and me, I don't think 
 that letter was worth a tuppenny stamp, much less a special 
 messenger."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 IF HE SIGNS THE CONTRACT IT WILL NOT BE 
 FOR THE FUTURE OF KARMANIA 
 
 He was awakened by the crashing and jangling of bells, 
 the prolonged huzza with which he was growing so familiar, 
 but which never failed to awaken a certain thrill. He won- 
 dered if Queen Karmen Mara were not arriving unexpectedly, 
 then remembered that the Prime Minister was due to meet 
 him here on this day. Bela, who had spent the night out- 
 stretched acrose the hearth-rug, sprang on the bed, ponderous 
 as a lion. The young man, in order to escape her morn- 
 ing greetings, tumbled out on the other side. He rang for 
 Jeff, and a native servant answered, conveyed the informa- 
 tion that the negro could not be roused from his slumbers. 
 This native had apparently been some time in Crossdale's 
 room, waiting for the guest to stir, for his clothes were laid 
 out and breakfast ready, waiting on a table before a freshly 
 lighted fire. The man salaamed, but made no answer to 
 Crossdale's question as to the arrivals, and Crossdale 
 smoked peacefully in his chair before a steaming samovar, 
 cream thick as a glove, strawberries in ice and wonderful 
 little hot breads, covered with savory seeds. Griffen wandered 
 in and gave him a stormy morning greeting, and Crossdale 
 asked nothing better than the company of these honest 
 friends.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 89 
 
 The dogs loved these rooms, where the spirit of their 
 master lingered. Was their sense of smell so abnormal and 
 keen that the fact of Crossdale having been with Prince 
 John three days ago was perceptible to these fine canine 
 nostrils? How could he explain their devotion? 
 
 He had breakfasted and dressed when a message was 
 brought him that the Prince would receive him in the living 
 room. 
 
 "Not being in France," he thought, "I can't put on a 
 dress suit in the gray dawn to meet an official, and not being 
 in England I can't wear a silk hat and a frock coat. How 
 does one dress to meet Prime Ministers and Kings?" 
 
 He compromised on a tweed suit and a dark red tie, hastily 
 glanced in one of the mirrors, went along cheerily, followed 
 by the three greyhounds, wondering why the dickens Korvan 
 did not turn up to take him by the hand and instruct him 
 what to call this Johnny. As he came into the living room 
 he saw before a table spread for breakfast a group of men 
 in uniform around the shining samovar, smoking. 
 
 They sprang up as Crossdale entered. The central figure, 
 a bearded soldier, in a simple uniform with no decorations 
 save the French Legion of Honor, rose slowly with great 
 dignity and grace. This was Prince Karol Sarvanarof. Of 
 certain avoirdupois, with small hands and small feet, keen 
 eager face, blue eyes deeply set under bushy brows; nose so 
 slavic as to suggest the Hebrew, thick gray hair and closely 
 trimmed, a pointed gray beard; he had race, distinction. 
 Two young men, in uniforms more gaudy than their chief's, 
 the sons of the King, were the other members of the party, 
 with Lieutenant Korvan.
 
 90 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 Prince Karol came forward toward the American with 
 extended hand. "How do you do, Mr. Crossdale? The 
 Princes Paul and Sarvan Sarvanarof, the King's sons. 
 Lieutenant Stanislas Korvan I think you know." 
 
 The American, unconscious of every hand but that of the 
 Prime Minister, found his grasp honest and firm. He was 
 conscious of being under keen scrutiny. The Prime Min- 
 ister dismissed the Princes. "Go on, my children, with 
 your breakfast. Mr. Crossdale has breakfasted and so 
 have I. These boys are young; they have been up all night, 
 and youth must be served." 
 
 The three young men resumed their seats and the Prime 
 Minister, going over toward a writing table in the window, 
 indicated to Crossdale to follow him; and back of them, 
 at the breakfast table, with its green linen cloth, the royal 
 princes and Korvan sat before their dishes piled with straw- 
 berries like a fairy feast; it was a dazzle and sparkle of 
 pewter. 
 
 Crossdale sat down opposite to the Prime Minister at the 
 writing table. Prince Karol glanced at the wolfhounds 
 who had followed Crossdale and who stood one on either side 
 of him. 
 
 "You give us guarantees of good faith and a sympathetic 
 personality, Mr. Crossdale. The dogs have made friends 
 with you already." The Prime Minister raised his brows, 
 half questioning, half humorous. 
 
 "You know how to treat dogs in Karmania," said the 
 American. "Other places in the Balkans they abuse them. I 
 think that to treat animals and inferiors well is a mark of 
 breeding and civilization."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 91 
 
 Prince Karol was studying the American engineer as well 
 as he might. The diplomat, politician and subtle Slav, had 
 the advantage over the simpler American. Prince John's 
 wolfhounds appeared to be guarding Crossdale as he sat 
 before the Prime Minister, in a deep green leather chair. 
 Prince Karol appeared to approve Crossdale's lean, wiry 
 figure, his capable strong hands, slender and sun-browned, 
 clean-shaven, expressive face, with its honest eyes under 
 level brows, his boyish forehead, with thick dark hair 
 brushed straightly back. He was agreeable; he was mag- 
 netic, and at once unpretentious and thoroughly well bred. 
 
 The Prince returned: "Then we are not civilized in Kar- 
 mania we treat our superiors with respect, our equals with 
 understanding, and ignore the rest. For us inferiors and 
 animals do not exist." 
 
 From the table behind them came the gay voices of the 
 young Princes, laughing over their breakfast with Stanislas 
 Korvan. One of the hounds left Crossdale's side and joined 
 the breakfast group and Prince Sarvan, fondling him, fed 
 him with pieces of buttered toast. 
 
 "Before we go any further," said the Prime Minister, 
 "I want to apologize to you for the treatment your servant 
 received in Tamaresk." 
 
 "Good!" thought Crossdale to himself. "He is beginning 
 at the small end. I wonder what he will say when he comes 
 to the royal story?" 
 
 "Karmania is somewhat barbaric still," said the Prime 
 Minister. "People are passionate, impulsive, and I would 
 like to make it clear to this body servant of yours that he 
 must not make any attack upon the people. It would be
 
 92 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 difficult to protect him, Mr. Crossdale and, possibly, to 
 protect you." 
 
 Stephen leaned back in his chair, thrust his hands in his 
 pockets. Nothing could have surprised him more than this 
 curious opening of a conversation. He felt like retorting: 
 "But why Tamaresk? Why the devil not Jehanospelz? 
 Why, in short, any apology to a chap who has nearly lost 
 his life while entering the country in perfectly good faith?" 
 
 Prince Karol called Stanislas Korvan over to him. "Ask 
 them to send Mr. Crossdale's servant in here. I like Ameri- 
 can negroes," continued the Prince. "They make such 
 faithful servants." 
 
 "You know them?" 
 
 "I have been all over the United States," said Karol 
 Sarvanarof. 
 
 "Wonderful people!" thought Crossdale. "Here this 
 chap sits and looks like Bluebeard, and I dare say he has 
 sampled all of the delights of our big cities, like any com- 
 monplace middle aged man." 
 
 "I'll answer for my man," he said quietly. "He is a first- 
 rate fellow. He was a Pullman car porter originally, if you 
 know what that means; and before he went on that job he 
 was a prize fighter; he did a little work in the ring." 
 
 Crossdale said this with satisfaction and a smile which 
 did not quite declare itself. He was thinking of Jeff sleep- 
 ing his honest sleep, which had overlapped his duties, but he 
 was entirely unprepared for the apparition that came in 
 with Korvan, which he never forgot as long as he lived. 
 
 Jefferson Robinson was in spotless white linen trousers, 
 full to the knees; black broadcloth jacket, embroidered in
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 93 
 
 green; high black boots; a black silk scarf around his waist 
 with one end falling to the knee, and a red tarbush. Shades 
 of Pullman porters! Figures of capable American indepen- 
 dent negroes! The old impression was forever lost in that 
 which stood before Crossdale's startled eyes. He turned 
 away to hide his amusement from the man, who looked 
 mild and docile, sheepish. But he was frankly enamoured 
 with his masquerade. 
 
 Karol Sarvanarof nodded to him. "Is this your prize 
 fighter?" he said to Crossdale. And before Crossdale could 
 answer: "We have put your man in what will be your house 
 livery while you are in Karmania, Mr. Crossdale." And 
 turning swiftly to the negro, the Prime Minister said: "You 
 are a good chap. I've heard about you from Captain Ugo. 
 It was very devoted of you to follow your master to Kar- 
 mania, but you must be careful here, my good man. These 
 people are very hot blooded. Don't be too quick to take 
 offence." 
 
 Jefferson Robinson came out of his daze. Sarvanarof spoke 
 perfect English the English of Oxford and of civilized 
 cosmopolitans. He was perfectly intelligible to the negro, 
 who recognized the master and the gentleman in him. He 
 made an expressive gesture that went by way of salute, and 
 like all the people of his irrepressible race when given a 
 chance to speak, spoke. 
 
 " 'Scuse me, Boss," he said, "ah've traveled from Pitts- 
 burgh to New York so many times dat ah reckon if you 
 added up de miles 'twould be a couple tours 'round de 
 world. Ah ain' afraid of anybody, nowhere, an' when ah 
 was a Pullman porter on de Limited, quite a few times ah
 
 94 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 had articles stolen from my berths, an' one time, boss " 
 he dropped his voice. 
 
 Both of the young Princes and Stanislas Korvan had 
 paused in their breakfast to listen to this monologue, deliv- 
 ered in the rich dialect of the unspoiled American black. 
 The Prime Minister scarcely heard him. But he delighted 
 his master. 
 
 "An' one time, boss, ah came into a stateroom an' foun' a 
 crook goin' through de pockets of my passenger, who was 
 asleep in his berth. Ah tell you ah never tol' anybody what 
 ah did to dat man, but ah don' min' tellin' you. 'Twas at 
 de en' of de train, de las' stateroom, an' ah picked him up 
 by de seat of his pants, as ah came in behin' on him, an' 
 boss, ah opened de door of the car and ah dropped him off 
 de train." 
 
 Jeff stopped with his sepulchral confession, and controlled 
 the darky gurgle of laughter that began to break out in his 
 throat. Prince Karol vouchsafed neither encomium nor 
 reproof. He said curtly: "I think your man would make an 
 excellent executioner." 
 
 His master nodded. "All right, Jeff, that'll do." And Jeff 
 wheeled and got out of the room with more or less alacrity. 
 
 "Now," said the Prime Minister, "these young people 
 have finished their breakfast." They had done so and after 
 profoundly saluting their chief, the three young men 
 wandered out toward the back of the room and entered a 
 sun parlor, built into a clearing of the pines. 
 
 The Prime Minister and Crossdale found themselves 
 alone. On the table before which they sat lay maps and 
 papers by the inkstand and the pens, and Crossdale observed
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 95 
 
 forms and contracts, prepared evidently for his signature. 
 
 "Mr. Crossdale," said the Prime Minister, "you are the 
 inmate of a small but powerful kingdom. We are black 
 with traditions in Karmania, and fixed as the rocks in our 
 customs. Our little monarchy is unknown to your great 
 republic. We have lately had a revolution and a civil war, 
 and the traitors are still at work, subtly and in secret. 
 Now I have said all that I intend to until you have answered 
 my little inquisition. What happened to you from the time 
 you left the Grand Hotel at Tamaresk until you were 
 picked up by our servants on the plain?" Under the Prime 
 Minister's steady gaze the young man's eyelids did not 
 flicker. 
 
 "I wish I could tell you, your Excellency." He stopped, 
 smiling. 
 
 "But you will tell us give a full and detailed story, I 
 hope?" 
 
 "Short and to the point, your Excellency. I think 
 that the wine we drank at the last resting house must 
 have been doped drugged," he amended. 
 
 "Ah!" The Prime Minister watched him intently. 
 
 But Crossdale was determined to play the straight game 
 as far as possible and not to report Jehanospelz until he 
 was forced to do so. 
 
 "My man servant and I were dragged from the victoria, 
 bound, gagged, and left as you found us." 
 
 The Prime Minister interrupted: "Bound by whom?" 
 
 "There may have been a hundred or so of them soldiers, 
 armed men. Of course when they first came up I thought 
 it was the caravan of Captain Refan Ugo."
 
 96 
 
 "I see!" exclaimed Prince Karol. "One of my cousin's 
 bandit raids! You were caught in it. Your escape was a 
 very lucky one! Not that he would have murdered you; 
 he would have had no reason to do such a thing. Prince 
 John and his followers make these sorties, these brigand 
 attacks, throughout the country. They impress, they terrify; 
 it is a sort of guerilla warfare. You understand," he nodded, 
 "that those were the soldiers of Prince John Sarvanarof, the 
 republican leader, the exile?" 
 
 "Indeed?" said Crossdale, with apparent interest. 
 
 "But," continued Prince Karol, "you will be glad to know 
 that our pursuit has been eminently successful. The Queen's 
 Guard and the First Regiment of Fusiliers have scoured the 
 country since the attack upon you and Prince John has 
 gone into Roumania, and we have taken prisoner over a 
 hundred and fifty men." 
 
 "Ah," thought Crossdale, "little Captain Zito is behind 
 the bars today, I'll bet a shilling! But not a word about 
 the Queen's little midnight escapade. Well, if that's their 
 game I shall have to play it!" 
 
 Now Karol rang the bell and gave orders that Captain 
 Refan Ugo should be called. The officer who had chaperoned 
 Crossdale's entrance into the country came in. He saluted 
 the Prime Minister with a profound salaam, disgusting in 
 its slavishness to Crossdale; he could not understand why 
 a mere military salute would not have done as well. This 
 latter the American received. But the Karmanian met 
 neither the eyes of his chief nor those of Crossdale. Refan 
 Ugo was in full dress tenue, a very brilliant uniform. 
 
 Before the Prime Minister spoke Crossdale felt the
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 97 
 
 moment was an important one for the Karmanian, at least. 
 "You have, Captain Ugo," said the Prime Minister, in a 
 tone which Crossdale had never heard equalled for brutal 
 severity, "bungled the entrance of this gentleman into the 
 Kingdom in a remarkable manner. We designated you to 
 receive him and to be his guide, supposing that a man of 
 your experience and position would be equal to the task. I 
 need not rehearse to you the details of Mr. Crossdale's 
 journey. They are too well known to you. We owe him 
 an apology." He bowed with suave graciousness to the 
 American, who took such offence at his tone that he could 
 hardly look at him. "But apology is not sufficient. I will 
 say nothing further to you now, Ugo, regarding other mat- 
 ters relating to the day of Mr. Crossdale's arrival" The 
 Prime Minister stopped; the pause was ominous. He glared 
 at Ugo, who would have been withered if a look could 
 wither. Indeed, the big Karmanian seemed crumpled up 
 and ready to dissolve. 
 
 Crossdale had never been more uncomfortable in his life. 
 Could he speak for him? Would it not be lese majeste, 
 or something or other of that kind? 
 
 But before he could speak the Prime Minister settled 
 Ugo's hash for him. "Consider yourself relieved of your 
 duties in the cabinet of the Prime Minister. You may re- 
 join your regiment. Try to retrieve something of the 
 prestige you have so lost, Captain Ugo. You may go." 
 
 The officer turned perfectly livid. His consternation made 
 it evident to the American that this was not a ruse on the 
 part of Prince Karol in order to impress the stranger. What- 
 ever the chief's reasons may have been, he was acting on
 
 98 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 impulse. Crossdale understood that he had been repri- 
 manded not only for the misadventure of the engineer, but 
 for the danger to the Queen. 
 
 Ugo, white as the dead, saluted, clicking his heels 
 together, touching his forehead with the back of his hand, 
 bowed profoundly and went out of the room. Prince Karol 
 turned to Crossdale and said quickly: "I could not give you 
 any better proof of our sincerity and our good will toward 
 you, Mr. Crossdale. We consider that you have been most 
 badly treated since your entrance into the Kingdom. We 
 extend to you all the apologies possible and I hope that from 
 now on you will have no cause to complain of our 
 hospitality." 
 
 Instead of replying directly to this, the young man said: 
 "Captain Refan Ugo will hate me, all right." 
 
 "The likes and hates of inferiors, Mr. Crossdale, should 
 be indifferent to us. Now," he continued, "here are your con- 
 tracts. I think they appealed to you or you would not be 
 here." 
 
 "Quite right, Prince Karol." 
 
 "The Western Transportation Company is to build us our 
 road from the Savian side of the tunnel through the Kar- 
 manians to the Danube. You are to use native labor. You 
 are to use the materials already in the country, which have 
 been furnished us by the United States and England. 
 Moreover, any new materials you may judge necessary, you 
 are to import from whatever source you see fit, at our 
 expense. Our guarantees are already in the hands of the 
 Western Transportation Company in San Francisco, and we 
 will meet our other financial obligations in the course of the 
 construction of the road with your representatives."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 99 
 
 "I have nothing to do with the financial transactions. My 
 part is dynamite, electricity, steel and iron and men. What 
 are your native laborers like?" 
 
 "They are the very best workmen possible," said the 
 Prime Minister. "They are frugal, eager, childlike, indus- 
 trious and gentle. Now, this is the proposition I am going 
 to make to you: You are quite free to return from here, as 
 Ugo told you. We will accompany you to Tamaresk and 
 put you on the boat for Austria, if you like. This railroad 
 scheme, Mr. Crossdale, was mine ten years ago. I am 
 responsible for it. I am going to see it through, and if you 
 return and leave us in the lurch, some French engineer or 
 some Englishman will take your place. But if you accept 
 and go on with the building of the road, you will not leave 
 Karmania until your job is done." 
 
 Crossdale started, looking up at him attentively. 
 
 "During this time you will see no one. You will hold no 
 communication with the outside world either by letter or 
 telegram unless your communications are O. K.'d by me." 
 
 The American threw back his head and laughed out loud. 
 "Why, what do you take me for?" 
 
 The face of his companion was unmoved. He lit a fresh 
 cigarette, drank a cup of coffee at a single draught, sat 
 back and waited. Stephen Crossdale was about to say: "I 
 refuse categorically," and to tell his man to pack his luggage 
 and to make ready to start back to Tamaresk. Then Fate 
 played a trick of chance upon him; one of those pegs on 
 which, curiously enough, its threads hang, was suddenly 
 driven into the wall above his head by the Hammer of 
 Destiny.
 
 100 THE QUEEN OF K ARMANI A 
 
 As Prince Karol pushed the papers aside he uncovered an 
 illustrated magazine lying on the table; it had a woman's 
 portrait on the cover a regal, beautiful woman's head, 
 with long pearl eardrops in the ears and a string of pearls 
 around her neck. She was decidedly royal looking, and her 
 eyes were grave, and yet half humorous. It was an older 
 face than the face of the little photograph in the portfolio 
 on the Californian ranch, but it was the same. 
 
 Prince Karol quickly covered it up by a document which 
 he held in his hand and just at that moment, without the 
 window, a group of the Queen's Foresters went singing by. 
 From where he sat Crossdale could see them traverse the 
 road, disappear in the forest. They were singing musically, 
 in chorus and in perfect time: 
 
 "What shall be given 
 
 To him who comes riding 
 
 Over the mountains and through the forests 
 
 To our hill city? 
 
 Much gold and glory?" 
 
 This time the verse of the Queen's song had a very pro- 
 nounced effect upon the young man in the deep green chair. 
 The voice of a woman seemed to call to him across his life, 
 and in this half barbaric melody there was a summons that 
 he had never heard before. It seemed as though some one 
 called him, as though an invitation were royally extended to 
 him. He looked away from the Prime Minister, who waited 
 for his answer. Karol Sarvanarof was impressive; his per- 
 sonality was distinctly impressive and affected Crossdale.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 101 
 
 As he looked away, the welcoming room, the hospitality 
 he was enjoying, surrounded him, appealed to him. His 
 hand wandered over to the papers on the table; he touched 
 the plans, which had fascinated and lured him in California. 
 The reality of his work was before him. A land to open up, 
 a mountain to tunnel, a road to build and a promise of 
 the woman whose picture he had bought when he was a lad. 
 
 The Prime Minister went over to the samovar and poured 
 himself another cup of black coffee and brought over 
 another cup to Crossdale. "Drink this," he said. "This 
 climate demands a certain amount of stimulant. We drink 
 coffee all day long. Don't give your answer now; take a 
 day in which to think it out. Tomorrow I am going to 
 entertain you according to the traditions of the forest; I 
 have organized a wolf hunt. You must like hunting you 
 are a Westerner; you know what big game is. This after- 
 noon," he continued, "we will go over to the railroad and 
 inspect the work of your colleagues, and meet those who 
 still remain of Baumgarten's engineering staff."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 PRINCE SARVAN DISPLAYS THE FERVOR OF THE BOYS OF '76 
 
 In Prince John's charming little sitting room, where 
 Crossdale was sure the exile had connived and plotted 
 against the monarchy, Stephen busied himself with his cor- 
 respondence. The letters with the firm's stamp in the corner 
 and the plain American postmarks looked reassuring and 
 far removed from intrigue. In one letter to his partner 
 Caleb Storm said: 
 
 "We have been told of very rich oil tracts in Karmania. 
 Germany and Roumania are doing their best to get their 
 hands on them. Now the Western Transportation Company 
 isn't going to sit by and see a lot of dubs get rich when they 
 could be doing the same thing. 
 
 "You are nearer to those oil wells than we are to Texas 
 and you ought to look into them for us. We have been 
 informed that they are in the possession of Karmanian 
 peasants who know nothing about the riches of the country. 
 But you know better than we do. Can you put us wise?" 
 
 Crossdale could have laughed out loud. How easy it 
 sounded! Get in touch with oil wells in a place where you 
 are being treated like a pickpocket, and would probably be 
 shot in the back if you wandered out of the front yard ! 
 
 "Little old Caleb doesn't guess what a nest I am in," he 
 mused, "or I don't believe he would have been so keen on 
 sending me off." 
 
 He was still busy with his correspondence when, in
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 103 
 
 answer to his "Come in," Prince Sarvan, the more sympa- 
 thetic of the two brothers, pushed the door open into his 
 cedar-lined study. "Good morning, Mr. Crossdale. May I 
 have a few words with you?" 
 
 "Sure," said Crossdale cordially. "I was going into the 
 living room to answer my letters. Sit down, won't you? 
 What will you smoke?" 
 
 "First of all," said the Prince, "on the wolf hunt tomorrow 
 you will go with the Prime Minister in his treja. And wear 
 your warmest clothes; it will be cold coming back." 
 
 "I did not know it was the season for wolf hunting," said 
 Crossdale. "I thought it was too early." 
 
 "We will be hunting the old wolf, the mother and her 
 young. They will be beaten out for us by the beaters." 
 
 Prince Sarvan was broad shouldered, fine muscled, appar- 
 ently an all-round sport. His shapely head was well set 
 above his military collar and the face mobile and expressive. 
 He had a merry mouth and kind eyes, and his hair grew in 
 a widow's peak on his forehead. He wore it brushed up 
 straight like the bristles of a stiff hairbrush. He was eager, 
 with much charm of manner, and drew his chair close to 
 Crossdale, dropping into it leaned toward him and began 
 in a low voice: 
 
 "I shall only be able to sit with you a few moments." 
 
 "I don't want to be let in for secret interviews, Prince 
 Sarvan. I shall avoid all political discussions whilst I am 
 in Karmania." 
 
 But the young man had him. He laughed. "Too late! 
 How about Jehanospelz and the Queen's escape and your 
 gallant rescue? You don't mind my saying that you began
 
 104 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 fairly well for a man who is going to keep out of things!" 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed Crossdale with relief. "I am darned 
 glad somebody knows something about anything here it 
 is a relief, as far as I am concerned." 
 
 Sarvan looked amused. "My word, you've got a ju-jitsu 
 swing, Crossdale!" he nodded. "By gad, you broke the leg 
 of the man you threw out of the window last night! Did 
 you know it?" 
 
 Crossdale exclaimed: "Perfectly great! Secret messengers 
 ought to be insured against accident! Don't send me any 
 more of that kind! We shoot at sight out West." 
 
 The Prince was apparently undismayed by this announce- 
 ment. "Poor Creta! He's as faithful as your negro, and I 
 dare say you would not like to have his leg broken." 
 
 Crossdale laughed. "You would be more likely to be able 
 to break it than his head, anyhow. Jeff would have broken 
 a tree with his skull if any one had pitched him against it. 
 But I think too much of him to send him into a man's 
 room at night to play the part of postman." Crossdale took 
 a cigarette out of the box on the table and lit it. "Since you 
 have got my number, Prince Sarvan, what is the next?" And 
 then he asked, with a naive interest, "Does the Queen 
 does Her Majesty know the truth about her escape?" 
 
 Prince Sarvan shook his head. "She thinks that Captain 
 Zito's men were part of her own escort." He shrugged. 
 "What do Queens know about anything in their kingdom?" 
 
 He seemed to ask this of Crossdale, who returned: 
 "Search me! I know about as much of the customs of 
 royalty, Prince Sarvan, as I do about hunting young wolves 
 in September."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 105 
 
 Sarvan leaned across the table toward Crossdale. "I have 
 been mad to talk to you ever since you came. I know all 
 about your meeting with Prince John on the steamer. I am 
 a democrat, heart and soul, heart and soul!" Sarvan's 
 vibrating voice revealed unmistakably that he had a great 
 deal of both heart and soul. 
 
 "I would lay down my life for Prince John. There are 
 many of us in Karmania; we are all knit together to the 
 end." His fine dark eyes were fastened magnetically upon 
 the American; he knit his brown fingers together convul- 
 sively. "You will sunder the very vitals of Karmania before 
 you can break us asunder." 
 
 Without the door was the low whining of one of the wolf- 
 hounds. Sarvan sprang up and opened the door and let in 
 Griffen, who came in, caressing the Prince. Here was 
 another favorite of theirs! What did it mean? They followed 
 Crossdale, they followed Sarvan. They were evidently revo- 
 lutionary dogs! 
 
 "See how I trust you!" Sarvan exclaimed. "I have put 
 my life in your hands." 
 
 And Crossdale said brusquely: "I came from San Fran- 
 cisco to build your road, and I don't intend to get mixed 
 up in revolutions, if I have to break the legs of forty mid- 
 night messengers. And when you communicate with your " 
 he hesitated and added, "your former Prime Minister, if you 
 intend to communicate with him, just ask him to cut out 
 all this theatrical stuff." 
 
 Griffen, looking from one to the other of the young men, 
 gave a tremendous yawn, then lay down between them with 
 his head on his paws.
 
 106 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 "You will feel differently," said Prince Sarvan, "when 
 you have been in Karmania some time. You will become 
 carried away by the spirit of the moment. You have made 
 a tremendous impression on Prince John; you will be one of 
 us, I am convinced. It would be impossible for such a 
 republican as you are not to take an interest in our deliv- 
 erance. My brother Paul will be King when the old King 
 dies, unless we are a republic before then. Have you 
 observed my brother Paul, Mr. Crossdale?" 
 
 "Not especially." 
 
 "It would be a tragedy if he succeeds to the throne. He 
 is a debauchee, a cruel despot, and in the case of his death 
 the Queen will reign alone, according to Karmanian law." 
 
 Crossdale asked: "If Prince John succeeds in overthrow- 
 ing the monarchy, who will be the head of the Government?" 
 
 And Sarvan answered simply: "Himself." 
 
 It was all unreal to the traveler spectacular. He remem- 
 bered one of Jefferson Robinson's Darky songs: 
 
 "Hush, little baby, don't you cry! 
 You'll be President by and by." 
 
 He looked into the sympathetic face of the young man. 
 "You and your brother are sworn enemies, aren't you?" 
 
 "Naturally," shrugged Sarvan. "I live for liberty and 
 equality." 
 
 "It is a wonder to me you have not been assassinated long 
 ago." 
 
 With attractive gravity the Prince responded: "I owe 
 my life to the Queen." He sprang to his feet, put his hand 
 to his forehead. Heljen!" he murmured, then said: "I am
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 107 
 
 leaving Karmania today. Her Majesty's power is limited. 
 I am young, ambitious; I want to live for the new republic." 
 
 The two young men stood looking at each other. Sarvan 
 put out his hand. "Good-bye, Crossdale. Remember my 
 safety is in your keeping." 
 
 He opened the door and passed out quickly, the other 
 following into the living room. But Crossdale did not ask 
 himself if he should demand an escort back to Tamaresk. He 
 did not want to go. It was weird, not without danger pos- 
 sibly. Things were more interesting than any that had come 
 his way and he had a personal reason for wanting to go 
 across the mountain. He went to the writing table, wrote a 
 commonplace account of his arrival to Caleb Storm and 
 finished his letter just before Korvan came in to ask for his 
 letters that he might send them to Tamaresk by special 
 messenger. 
 
 "Is this all?" 
 
 Crossdale laughed. "Honestly, Lieutenant Korvan," he 
 said, "you don't think that this sort of thing is conducive to 
 correspondence, do you?" 
 
 Lieutenant Korvan apologized deprecatingly. "Can I 
 have a few words with you, Mr. Crossdale? I have been try- 
 ing to find you all day." 
 
 "Now," thought Crossdale, "here is another duet Lieu- 
 tenant Korvan and myself. What is he going to spring on 
 me?" 
 
 There was nothing of the Oriental about Korvan. He 
 looked like a bank clerk. He was pale and freckled, with 
 light eyes and reddish hair, closely cropped and bristling, an 
 auburn aureole round his face. He had a frank, unassuming
 
 108 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 manner, and Crossdale believed him to be perfectly honest 
 and thoroughly sincere. 
 
 "I like you, Mr. Crossdale," he said, "awfully." 
 
 "Thanks," said the American briefly. 
 
 "And so does the Prime Minister, Prince Karol." 
 
 With a slight drawl, Crossdale answered: "I don't 
 know whether to be glad or sorry about that, Lieutenant 
 Korvan. The favor of Princes isn't always to be desired." 
 
 Korvan smiled discreetly. "I have been in Prince Karol's 
 confidence for ten years," he said, "and today I asked him 
 the first favor I have ever asked him." 
 
 "Now what's coming?" wondered the American. 
 
 "I took the civil engineering course at the Buda Pesth 
 University. I want to help Karmania; I want to be con- 
 nected with the progress of my country. I have asked his 
 Excellenccy, as a reward for ten years' service, to attach 
 me to your staff. I hope that you will use me in the build- 
 ing of the road. You will need an interpreter; you will need 
 a right-hand man." 
 
 This was the first practical suggestion that had been 
 made to Crossdale in Karmania, but before he could rejoice 
 in it, it occurred to him: "Ah, here is another spy! They 
 have put him in Refan Ugo's place! He will be able to 
 keep a real tab on me!" 
 
 "I am very much obliged, Lieutenant Korvan," he said, 
 without any great warmth. "I have not signed my con- 
 tracts yet with the Prime Minister. I will talk it over with 
 him later."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 HE ANSWERS THE CALL OF THE WILD 
 
 In a fur-lined motor coat, thick gloves and serviceable 
 tweed cap, Crossdale smoked on the porch before sunrise the 
 following day until his host should join him for the hunt. He 
 could not forget the interview with Prince Sarvan; it 
 haunted him. And the fact that this stranger in a moment 
 so vital should take him into his confidene it was 
 unheard of, weird beyond words. He wondered at the cir- 
 cumstances which had brought him here, and what it was 
 all going to do to him. 
 
 A superb treja, piled with rugs, waited before the door, 
 the driver muffled to the ears, and two huntsmen keeping 
 the nervy little stallions from lashing over their traces by 
 pulling their manes, fondling them, feeding them with sugar. 
 A bit further, enveloped in a rimy mist, a group of horse- 
 men, each man with a shotgun over his shoulder, a leather 
 belt, into which was stuck a hunting knife, were ranged in a 
 severe row, their eyes fixed on the door through which the 
 Prime Minister should appear. They wore his livery 
 wine-red tunic with orange frogs, black trousers, the inevi- 
 table high boots, now with spurs, soft black hats surrounded 
 by a yellow cord, the arms of Sarvanarof embroidered in 
 yellow on the felt. 
 
 Crossdale could not take his eyes from the horses. He 
 did not know which to choose among the fifteen odd stal-
 
 110 THE QUEEN OF K ARMANI A 
 
 lions, bred to hunt in these regions the little Arab, all 
 nerve and muscle, with skin as soft as the palm of a woman's 
 hand; the Russian, full of curve and grace; the compact 
 little Cossack, from whose nostrils fire and flame seemed to 
 spurt as his rider drew him back, kicking and biting and 
 lashing out with his fine little hoofs, from the ardent com- 
 panions. Crossdale had shot over Southern marshes, stalked 
 caribou and moose in Canada, trapped bear in the Rockies. 
 But this promised to be the most novel and exciting hunt 
 of his life. 
 
 He heard Karol's voice, speaking in a tone whose arro- 
 gance was very different to the suave tones which his guest 
 had hitherto heard him use. Coming quickly out of the 
 door of the hunting lodge, followed by a cringing servant 
 in hunting dress, a man who had evidently misconstrued 
 some order, the Prime Minister hurled a last direction to 
 the man, then lifted his hand and struck him violently, with 
 a gesture so practised that it must have been frequent, on 
 both cheeks. The fellow swallowed this insult, bowed and 
 saluted and slunk away to join the group of hunters below 
 with their horses. 
 
 The Vrime Minister wore a belted tunic of sable with a 
 sable cap, and over his shoulder was slung his field glass. 
 He looked fresh as a rose, with his perfectly trimmed 
 pointed gray beard, almost clean-shaven, so closely was it 
 cut. He seemed sparkling and full of health and vigor and 
 full of power. 
 
 "What magnificent timber!" exclaimed the Calif ornian. 
 The giant pines and cedars lifted their pinkish trunks 
 through the mists.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 111 
 
 "We cut hundreds of thousands of trees every year," said 
 Karol, "and ship by the bullock carts over the steppes, the 
 way you traveled, to Roumania, to Turkey. You can 
 imagine how it will facilitate things when we have the rail- 
 road." He removed his cigarette to smile fully at his 
 guest, with a slight lifting of his bushy eyebrows. "Have 
 you ever hunted wolves?" 
 
 "Never." 
 
 "There will probably not be more than two hundred and 
 fifty. The proper kills in the winter foot up into a thousand, 
 but then we have a bigger force of people at our disposition. 
 What do you think of my two nephews?" Prince Karol 
 asked this question with an abruptness and sudden turning 
 of his head that very nearly made his companion start, and 
 before Crossdale could reply he continued: 
 
 "My people don't like to hunt with Prince Sarvan. He is 
 so erratic possibly I should say temperamental. On the 
 last boar hunt he outraged all etiquette and alone, with a 
 couple of dogs, his back against a tree, he killed ten boar, 
 without calling in his fellow sportsmen. He took the pick 
 of the hunt, put every one in a bad humor." 
 
 Crossdale laughed. "Rather sporting!" 
 
 The twenty hunters on their little horses had made a 
 wide detour. Now they were in front of the treja, a smart 
 regular little army riding two and two. Over narrow avenues 
 of yellow, pine-strewn ground; over miles and miles of pine 
 and cedar paths, they flew. Here and there the under- 
 growth was a thick tangle of brush, and here and there broke 
 into open spaces where the brush was cleared. The perfume 
 of the morning and the perfume of the forest was like
 
 112 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 nectar to their nostrils. The trees thinned toward the 
 forest's hem. The treja turned abruptly, swung into the 
 open, stopped with a jerk as the driver brought the animals 
 to their haunches with a cry. Now before them spread the 
 magic world of the limitless inland desert, which Crossdale 
 rejoined here many miles beyond the entrance he had made 
 into the Karmanian forest at Cye. 
 
 "Look," said Prince Karol, in a hushed voice, "at our 
 inland sea." 
 
 Before them spread an ocean of delicious pinkish mist, 
 which lay all along, winged as though with little pinions, 
 over the plain. As sunrise smote it, it blushed red in the 
 morning. Black forest hemmed it round like a velvet 
 border. Crossdale could have absorbed its beauty forever, 
 watching the lifting of the mysterious veil from the corru- 
 gated frosty land. 
 
 Further along, a dark square, like a handkerchief, seemed 
 dropped upon the earth. It was the meet itself, comprising 
 the Queen's hunters, the hunters of the Prime Minister, the 
 young Princes' men, horses, dogs all waiting for the arrival 
 of Prince Karol and the American engineer. As the treja 
 drew up, the horn blew a silver prolonged note; from the 
 throat of every hunter rang the cry of: "Heljen! Heljen!" 
 finishing up with: "The Queen!" 
 
 As the sound hung upon the morning air the sun rose 
 and the mist rose with it, and all the rippling sea of the 
 steppes grew red as a rose. The Princes Paul and Sarvan 
 came straggling out from the meet up to the sledge. They 
 wore the Queen's colors, hunting coats of myrtle-green, with 
 white boots and astrachan caps.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 113 
 
 "Mr. Crossdale," called Prince Sarvan, "doesn't it make 
 you think of big game hunting in the West of your coun- 
 try?" 
 
 "Rather not!" exclaimed Crossdale. "It is unique!" 
 
 "But hunting grizzlies in the Rockies is pretty good all- 
 round sport, as well! " Sarvan came round to the side of the 
 treja where Crossdale was, and although he said nothing 
 as he wrung his hand, the American understood that the 
 young man meant it to be a good-bye. 
 
 And Crossdale looked over at the other, the presumptive 
 heir, Prince Paul. Paul, slenderer, more boyish-looking, 
 seemed younger than Sarvan. He was lightly built, his 
 face weaker and more arrogant. He sat his little Arab well 
 and listened laughing to Prince Karol's tale of how he had 
 beaten the mujik before leaving the lodge. Crossdale could 
 not but remark the difference between brothers the ardent, 
 emancipated Sarvan, and the other, wedded to the rotting, 
 thread-bare traditions of an old system. On either side were 
 ranged a line of men, long hunting knives at their belts and 
 short rifles. They wound the reins of the horses around their 
 wrists. 
 
 Karol pointed with his sable-covered arm to the far, dim 
 distance. "The wolves come either from over there," he said, 
 "or the forest. We do not know, but we are ready." And he 
 nodded understandingly to Crossdale. 
 
 One of the hunters in green, who had joined Sarvan, red- 
 bearded, blue-eyed, with a wide, childlike mouth and a naive 
 expression of humility and authority combined, rode up to 
 the side of the treja and stood stiffly and saluted, and what
 
 114 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 he said in the dialect of his country to the Prime Minister, 
 Prince Karol repeated to the American. 
 
 "There has been a good harry; we have only to wait." 
 
 The master of the meet, the red-bearded Karmanian, 
 turned and galloped back to his serried group, gesticulating 
 to them, waving, bellowing at them as though they were 
 cattle, in a resounding voice used to reaching into far dis- 
 tance and to mastering dogs and men. 
 
 Prince Karol accepted one of Crossdale's cigarettes. 
 "Undisciplined," he said, "arrogant, Prince Sarvan needs 
 some lessons. Life will teach them." 
 
 But the American hardly heard him. The hunter was 
 wakening in him. Nothing could reach him now but the 
 voice of the open. He was beginning to be keyed up and 
 keen as he had not been in many a long day, if ever. His 
 nerves grew on edge. Every bit of him responded to the 
 bright sparkling notes of the horn. He saw the meet divide, 
 spread, a group go off into the forests, another ride down 
 on to the plain to the left of them, like a torn bit of a hand- 
 kerchief thrown upon the steppes, and in front of them, 
 like a hedge, ranged a line of Prince Karol's hunters in their 
 wine-colored tunics, their black hats trim, compact, the 
 flanks of the horses turned to them, swished upon by the 
 active tails of the stallions, now as nerved up and keen as 
 the human beings, whinnying, crying, but forced to be still 
 by the cruel bits that held them like a vise. But the dogs! 
 
 "No finer wolfhounds in Central Europe!" said Prince 
 Karol. 
 
 Their trainers had them in leash. They seemed to be 
 endless. Larger than the average hunting dog, with long
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 115 
 
 stiff, grayish hair and sharp sensitive noses and muscular 
 jaws; some of them old and well seasoned, all mad with 
 excitement, straining at their leashes, yapping, yelping, save 
 here and there a new dog who peacefully, on his haunches, 
 bit at his fleas, and close to the feet of one of the hunters a 
 couple of hounds slept, with their noses on their paws; but 
 the majority were alive and awake. There was the tena- 
 cious jaw of the bull dog, the agility of the terrier. 
 
 It seemed to Crossdale that they sat like this, talking of 
 nothing, smoking, restless, on edge, for an hour or more. 
 His ears were keen, but save the insistent appealing call of 
 the bugles from the forest, and the answer from the steppes, 
 and the cries of: "Tela! Tela!" and the dogs, nothing broke 
 the vast, cruel silence of the steppes and forest, until sud- 
 denly there came from somewhere a sound like the rushing 
 of the wind, a sound like the moaning of the wind, borne to 
 them, then dropped; then taken up again and borne along, 
 smiting their attention as nothing else could have done. 
 
 "Listen!" said Prince Karol. "The wolves!" A shiver 
 of excitement ran through Crossdale from his spine down 
 through his limbs, and the whole experience seemed to him 
 like a draught to the dregs. Again and again, swelling, sub- 
 siding, came that sea-like rush of sound, unlike anything he 
 had ever heard before in the way of a wild cry, and the dogs 
 began to go mad. They pulled and strained at their 
 leashes. 
 
 Karol and Crossdale stood up in the treja and leaned for- 
 ward to scan the Steppe. "They are coming from the 
 steppes, Crossdale! Watch the horizon!" And presently 
 the American saw in the dim distance the Steppe coming to
 
 116 THE QUEEN OF K ARMANI A 
 
 life, part of it form into a cloud, a blue cloud, like a moving 
 mantle drawing ever nearer, nearer. He could not take his 
 magnetized gaze from it; he lost track of everything else 
 but this. Hunters and foot men, Prince Karol and the guard, 
 the dogs, everything else ceased to exist but that approach- 
 ing mass. It seemed so strange that it should be cut like 
 this out of the life of the forest, born and thrown down 
 toward them for destruction. 
 
 At first it appeared to be solid, advancing in a compact 
 mass. Then as it came nearer it broke, fell apart, came 
 together again, and the cry became more distinct and audible. 
 And then there came to them on the wind the unforgetable 
 odor of the wolf, the violent odor of the gray-haired wild 
 things and Crossdale could not forget that smell for 
 months; it struck his nostrils with its sharp unpleasant odor. 
 Until now he had been dignified, a formal man standing 
 civilly by the side of his royal host. And in a second now he 
 became primitive, the hunter. 
 
 "Excuse me, Prince," he said, springing out of the treja. 
 "I've got to go and meet them. Tell them to give me a 
 mount, will you?" 
 
 He did not know how he did it, but in a couple of seconds 
 more he had the body of a horse between his knees, a gun 
 over his shoulder, and his stallion pressed the flanks of the 
 next one in the front line; and he bent forward with a 
 strained expression of anguish and of fascinated eagerness to 
 watch the advance of the gray crowd. And louder and 
 louder came what was now a hoarse yelping cry, a cry to 
 strike terror to a man alone on the plain or in the forest; and 
 the filthy smell of the wild, penetrating and eternal, and
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 117 
 
 never to be lost from the fur, be it ten years a rug on the 
 floor of civilization the scent of the wolves came like an 
 accursed thing to his lips and his nostrils. 
 
 As the pack advanced he began to see their separate forms 
 distinctly. As a moving mass it was full of savage beauty 
 and grace. There was the slender, eager, anxious mother 
 wolf with her young; there was the heavy headed, hot- 
 fanged old wolf, his yellow jaws dripping with foam; and the 
 crass, crude, awkward, ungainly wolf cub, the wolf puppy. 
 Heads up and heads down, baying like lovesick dogs at 
 the moon, they came and suddenly, as they fully perceived 
 the humans, the., pack stopped, so instantly that the wolf 
 puppies rolled over on each other. They huddled, they 
 waited, in full sight of the dogs and the men. Then the 
 pack separated as though by some mysterious order, and one 
 half made for the forest; gray old wolves with the paler 
 young, the watchful woman wolf followed by her children 
 to be met by the hunters of the Queen. And the rest of the 
 pack came on. 
 
 Crossdale heard a voice at his side say: "Fire when you 
 see " And he interrupted: "Oh, hell the whites of their 
 eyes!" And shot and shot, and saw his bullets meet their 
 mark and the havoc began. There was no escape for these 
 children of the steppes and the forests. One after another 
 they leaped and fell, screamed and came on. As they fell, 
 their comrades, driven to meet their death through starva- 
 tion, fell on their bleeding bodies, and were shot as they 
 plunged their fangs in the steaming flesh. They rolled and 
 they rattled in their great wide-open throats. From the 
 center of the pack one leaped like a deer over the heads of
 
 118 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 the others, straight for the horses, and the men, and Cross- 
 dale shot him as he leaped, got him in the heart and he fell, 
 whirling as he fell. 
 
 The American heard the voice of Prince Karol: "A ripping 
 shot, Mr. Crossdale! He's your wolf!" 
 
 Then they unleashed the mad hounds, who fell on what 
 was left of the living like another pack of liberated wolves, 
 to the cry of: "Tela! Telal Heljen! Heljenl" 
 
 Crazed with the scent of blood, the dogs rushed half mad 
 into the carnage, leaping at the jaws and the throats and 
 upon the flanks of the unattached wolves, and no further 
 shot was fired. Crossdale watched the dogs fight the 
 wolves, clinging like rats to the throats, thrown off and 
 returning, knowing where to fasten and where to hold. It 
 was agony to the American to sit and take no further part. 
 
 Then the foot hunters, with black leather aprons over 
 their wine-colored tunics, unsheathed their long knives and 
 as they advanced Stephen was conscious that the wolves 
 what was left of them had advanced too, and that men on 
 their knees with their knives, and bloody dogs were fight- 
 ing hand to hand with the wolves. 
 
 He heard the voice which had spoken before at his side 
 saying: "You have four to your credit, Crossdale. The 
 cleaners will take them for you. It has been good sport, 
 excellent sport." 
 
 And he saw Prince Karol mounted, serene, tranquil, one 
 white gloved hand thrust through the belt of his short sable 
 coat, the other holding his field glass to his eyes. Like a 
 spectator at a bull fight, the Prime Minister gloated upon 
 the carnage and the massacre of the wolves.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 119 
 
 As Crossdale saw it saw two of the men coming toward 
 him with a great gray wolf between them, hung by the 
 fangs on an iron bar, and the men, smiling, lifted toward 
 his horse the wolf he had shot in the air he felt suddenly 
 ashamed to be part of this bloody scene. Already over 
 them in the air hovered the great forms of the vultures. 
 Already the veteran dogs, some of them suffering from 
 wounds and some only honestly tired, were coming to heel. 
 Crossdale dismounted. The great blue cloud which had 
 come so rapidly across the plain was exterminated. He 
 turned his eyes away from the mass, from what was left of 
 it; the returning dogs, and the kneeling men finishing the 
 wolves beginning already their work that would last all day, 
 of hiding and skinning and preparing the fur. Over the back 
 of the saddle of each hunter hung a great gray wolf.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 HE COMES FACE TO FACE WITH THE INTRIGUES OF A PATRIOT 
 
 The smell of the Wild Thing pursued him to a log cabin 
 midway between the meet and the Queen's lodge, where he 
 faced the Prime Minister in front of a fire of cedar logs, 
 before which they eagerly drew off their gloves and warmed 
 their hands. It was growing bitter cold. On a rough table 
 jugs of ale, green bottles of reka, bread and cheese tempted 
 the hunters, and a woodsman in national peasant dress 
 carried in a steaming plate of flapjacks, the only hot article 
 of food beside the inevitable Turkish coffee. 
 
 Prince Karol and Crossdale, according to etiquette, 
 preceded every one else to the cabin, to be followed shortly 
 by the hunt. The sport had exhilarated Crossdale to the 
 last degree, and he had had something of the feeling he 
 used to experience at home in the old days after the proper 
 number of cocktails, when he wouldn't let himself take 
 another because he had a deal on the keen point of enjoy- 
 ment before the swing over! Now he was drunk with sport 
 and air and the excitement of the kill, and his companion 
 appeared to him to be a first rate chap, a glorious host. 
 
 The Prince, who had thrown off his furs, stood beaming, 
 rubbing his attractive, supple hands. Like Refan Ugo, the 
 Prince too wore a little finger ring of an uncut stone set in 
 rough gold. In the case of the Prime Minister it was a
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 121 
 
 pigeons-blood ruby. His cheeks were as red as a boy's, his 
 eyes fairly shot out sparks of fire and enjoyment. He was 
 a splendidly preserved, ripping old boy for his age, Cross- 
 dale thought, tuned up to this high pitch of the joy of life, 
 that physical well being that comes with exercise and the 
 chase. Crossdale had not anything in the world against 
 anybody. And least of all against the master of this bully 
 little cedar cabin, with its odorous fire and its tempting 
 lunch. Possibly Prince Karol thought that the American 
 also, divested of his big coat, was a fair specimen of the 
 vigorous healthy animal, for tonight he was at his best. 
 
 "You're a first rate sport," he nodded at the American. 
 "I knew it the first time I saw you in the living room of the 
 Queen's lodge. Each individual has all sorts of signs written 
 over him, and any good student of human nature can read 
 them. You see the good business man most of your coun- 
 trymen are that or you see the temperamental enthusiast, 
 or the stolid materialist, but whenever I see an all-round 
 sport written on a man I like him." 
 
 "Thanks," said Crossdale. "It's the best compliment you 
 could pay me. But shooting a few wild animals doesn't 
 give you a diploma, you know, Prince Karol." 
 
 The face of the Karmanian expressed cordial liking for 
 Crossdale. "You will get your diploma on the other side 
 of Mount Nepta, when you open the Royal State Railroad 
 for us." Karol went over to the table and took his seat and 
 poured out with his own hands a mug of ale for Crossdale. 
 
 "There's no reason on God's earth why we should wait for 
 a lot of hunters. The Princes are always late. Come, Mr. 
 Crossdale." Karol lifted his own ale mug and said. "The
 
 122 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 Queen." They had drunk other toasts to her at the Queen's 
 lodge, before, but it seemed amusing to Crossdale to drink 
 it alone with her Prime Minister, both standing, and the 
 American repeated: "The Queen" with a great deal of grace 
 and a sincere gratitude for all the fun she was giving him 
 in her fine forests at the foot of Mount Nepta. He fell to 
 with a hunter's appetite like a barbarian, finding everything 
 wonderfully delicious. "If I lived here," he thought to him- 
 self, "I'd be like these people half-barbarian, primitive, 
 a wild man, hunting six days in the week and plotting 
 against kingdoms on the seventh." 
 
 There was a sound of horns, of bells, of the coming 
 hunters, and in another minute the door of the cabin was 
 burst open without ceremony, and a man in the livery of 
 the Queen, pale, dishevelled, with distraught face, half 
 dragged in by Karol's and the Queen's servants, rushed at 
 them, fell at Karol's feet and beating his forehead upon 
 the ground, cried out things unintelligible to Crossdale, but 
 things which he knew were of great import. Then followed 
 a confused murmur of voices, of the servants talking 
 together, with the man on his feet now as spokesman, 
 pointing, weeping, beating his breast, and the Prime 
 Minister erect, immobile, staring at him. But Crossdale 
 was so absorbed in the picture of this bearer of evil tidings 
 that he did not recall how Karol had looked when the 
 news was brought. 
 
 Then the Prime Minister, seizing his napkin of red linen, 
 waved it as if it were a bloody flag, crying out words that 
 sounded savage to Crossdale. He fairly beat them from 
 the room like dogs, evidently cursing them, pushing them
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 123 
 
 away and demanding insistently Captain Korvan. The 
 servants, jostling each other, haggard, worn, weary, many 
 of them covered with the blood of the kill, crying "Heljen! 
 H el jen!" and other unintelligible words, rushed out as they 
 had come, dragging the messenger with them, fearing that 
 perhaps if he remained behind the Prime Minister would 
 treat him badly. 
 
 Then Prince Karol, snatching up his coat and cap and 
 gloves, cried out to Crossdale in a tense voice: "Prince 
 Paul is killed, Mr. Crossdale. They have found him shot 
 through the heart in the forest. Come, come let us get out 
 of this. Let us get on to the lodge at once. Come! Come!" 
 
 Then Crossdale realized that the Prince was deadly pale. 
 As he hurried out of the cabin into the open, he seemed 
 almost to stagger, and Stephen put out his arm instinctively, 
 and Prince Karol grasped it. They had planned to remain 
 several hours in the cabin, eating, drinking and resting, and 
 to drive back under the full September moon, but the treja, 
 with its four stallions, was there before the door. The driver 
 and postilion had been eating, in their meagre, pitiful way, 
 a piece of bread, a bite of anything, but Prince Karol 
 fairly beat them into their seats. He seemed to be in a 
 passion of excitement and shock, and once in the sledge, 
 as it flew, he sat huddled in his furs, never speaking to 
 Crossdale, but showering imprecations and curses to the 
 horses and the driver and the postilion. And so they shot 
 off from the log cabin, through the light of the rising moon, 
 faint at first, and as they left the forest house, they saw in 
 the doorway the wild-eyed peasant who had baked the 
 pancakes for the Mighty Lord, standing dazed and terri-
 
 124 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 fied, with a dishcloth over one arm and the pancake turner 
 in the other. The treja suddenly drew up with a crash and 
 Stanislas Korvan flung himself off a horse and climbed up 
 onto the seat with the driver. 
 
 Suddenly Karol turned violently to the American. "And 
 the Prince Sarvan has disappeared no one knows where. 
 If there is a Heaven above us he will be found! This is 
 one of John Sarvanarof's diabolical plots, to wipe out the 
 succession and to abduct the Queen. But Sarvan will be 
 found he will be found." 
 
 From the front seat where he sat, Korvan's breath was 
 visible on the cold air. Without turning he said quietly: 
 "The Prince Sarvan has not been seen since the two Princes 
 went off together into the forest before the wolves were 
 sighted." 
 
 The Prime Minister huddled in his coat. But Crossdale 
 felt no more part of the moment than does a man 
 on a street corner feel a part of the newspaper which he buys 
 in order to read the extra. He was conscious that Karol 
 was murmuring in his native tongue, and the American 
 caught the word "fratricide." 
 
 Meanwhile they seemed to fly through the moonlit pines, 
 with the moon's shadows, the moon's radiance, playing 
 down on them like water, over the same path where they 
 had all come so gaily in the dawn, and over which now they 
 would drag that young body home. 
 
 "It's horrible," he said aloud, "Perfectly horrible! It 
 must have been a stray shot from " KaroPs hard laugh 
 broke in on him. "A hunting accident that's a plausible 
 solution, isn't it, Mr. Crossdale?"
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 125 
 
 "Had Prince Paul enemies?" 
 
 "In a time of revolution the heir to the throne has 
 enemies, yes/' said the Prime Minister. And he fairly 
 screamed at the driver: "Mi jal Mi ja!" And the mujik 
 threw out his long whip over the four horses, crying to 
 them, and they raced with the moonlight into the deepening 
 night.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 CROSSDALE PROVES HIS SPORTING BLOOD 
 
 "What in the name of Mike did you get into those togs 
 for, Jeff?" Crossdale surveyed his man servant with irrita- 
 tion. It mads hi m angry to think that Jeff Robinson should 
 be part of the masquerade. "I want you to go to your room 
 and get into your own clothes. I don't care what happens 
 you get out of those things." 
 
 The negro, who was laying out Crossdale's clothes, looked 
 at his master with a broad grin. "Boss, dis ain' cibilization, 
 but ah ain' yet seen de place where a feller can go out in 
 his birfday suit an' not git run in by de police." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "Um urn de first night when we got here ah done 
 fell asleep soon's ah hit my berth and ah dare say ah snored 
 so yuh could have heard me from de tender to de observa- 
 tion car. An' believe me, Boss, ah never woke up till one 
 ob dese damn fool natives was makin' signs ober me and 
 when ah got out ob bed dere wasn't a thing but dese to 
 put on, and dere ain' nebber bin since, not a ting." 
 
 "You mean to say they stole your clothes?" 
 
 "Um um." Jeff's expression was inimitable, but less 
 smiling and quite grave. "Mister Crossdale, ah sure did 
 have to come to dis backwoods to fin' out how ah love ma 
 life, and believe me, Boss, ah ain' goin' to lose it for a pair
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 127 
 
 ob pants." Jeff gave a glance at himself in the mirror and 
 seemed to like the reflection. He certainly had the negro's 
 true admiration of the picturesque. "Hones' to goodness. 
 Boss, dey am' so bad. What do you wear, Mister Cross- 
 dale, for goin' out?" The man was a refreshment to 
 Stephen. Black as he was, he was the only bright spot in his 
 environment and a great relief to his present mental state, 
 and Jeff's expression "going out" sounded good to Cross- 
 dale. 
 
 Since the news had been brought to them in the cedar 
 cabin Prince Karol had not let him out of his sight. Whether 
 it was intentional or not, the American did not know. All 
 night long, until the following morning, they had waited 
 together in the living room for the arrival of the cortege 
 bringing back Prince Paul's body, Karol's excitement con- 
 tinuing. He smoked countless cigarettes and drank count- 
 less cups of black coffee and reka. Over at a small table 
 Lieutenant Korvan waited, quiet, grave, serviceable, watch- 
 ing his master's mood, transmitting what orders could be 
 given, for there was neither telegraph nor telephone between 
 the Queen's lodge and the outer world. 
 
 But Crossdale, keeping the Prince company, as he was 
 forced to do, heard the sinister orders given to pursue Prince 
 Sarvan all over the realm, to the Danube and beyond, by 
 every possible means, by messengers and dogs, and he 
 understood that bloodhounds would be placed on the Prince's 
 trail. And he thought to himself: "Please God, they'll 
 never get him, no matter whether he's guilty or not." 
 
 Of the dogs of whom he had grown so fond only one was 
 to be found. When he finally went to his room, he saw
 
 128 THE QUEEN OF K ARMANI A 
 
 Griffen cringing under his bed. The dog dragged himself 
 whining to his feet, licking them and fawning upon him. 
 
 He would have given anything in the world to have 
 known nothing of Prince Sarvan's affairs, of his intended 
 departure, of his politics. But it was evident that the 
 Prime Minister was ignorant that he was anything more 
 than an ordinary impersonal spectator of an internal 
 tragedy, and talked to him like a broken-hearted father, 
 telling him a thousand affectionate things of the young 
 prince, making him appear a martyr and a young god. And 
 finally into their watch came the notes of the bugles, bugles 
 playing solemnly a silver dirge, which sounded weird and 
 ghostly on the hunting horns. 
 
 Stephen Crossdale stood in the window of the living room 
 whilst Prince Karol, barehead, went out on to the porch 
 where the light of morning and moonlight met and blended. 
 The hunters returned on foot and on horseback, and in the 
 center of the group of servants, covered by hunting cloaks 
 and furs, borne on a stretcher made of young pine trees, 
 Prince Paul came back from the hunt, and they carried in 
 the stretcher and put it down on a space which had been 
 cleared for it on the living room floor. With the wailing 
 and crying of the servitors in his ears and the exclamations 
 of the Prince as he kneeled down beside the stretcher, Cross- 
 dale unobserved left the room. 
 
 "Dat old Bolshevist ain' nebber goin' to let us git out ob 
 here, and ah ain' goin' any furder dan de front door till ah 
 gits ma ticket paid back home an' dey put me on de train." 
 And he laughed back in his throat, his soft Southern gurgle.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 129 
 
 "He's got our number all right, Mister Crossdale." 
 
 "Jeff, you're crazy!" 
 
 The negro drew near to him and dropped his voice. To 
 his master his impressiveness was ludicrous, in his present 
 costume of high boots, white trousers and embroidered 
 jacket. "Why, Boss," he said, "dis mornin' ah thought 
 ah'd go out an' take a little swim in de pond and ah hadn't 
 got much furder dan de yard when ah saw de whole place 
 guarded by soldiers all dress up fer war, an' a line ob blood- 
 hounds. Why, ah tell yo', ah come back to dis house on 
 ma tiptoes like ah ain' done since ah use' to git away from 
 ma mammy when ah wus a kid." 
 
 "Why, they were hunters, and those were the dogs of the 
 meet, you fool!" But the negro shook his head. "Hunters, 
 nothing, Mister Crossdale! We're frozen in solid here, an' 
 we'll be lucky if we ebber thaw out in de spring." 
 
 In spite of himself Crossdale was impressed. "You for- 
 get we're United States' citizens, Jeff." 
 
 And Jefferson Robinson grinned again. "Ah don' for- 
 get it," he said. "It sounds all right to me, an' ah keep 
 sayin' it ober to myself like ah say ma prayers, but right 
 here in dese backwoods, ah tell you, Mister Crossdale, ah 
 don' git any comfort out ob either." 
 
 At this moment Prince Karol sent for the engineer. 
 Crossdale gathered himself together and went in with Jeffer- 
 son Robinson's words in his mind: "I ain' going to t'row my 
 life away for a pair ob pants." 
 
 On his way he passed the open door of the room where 
 they had laid the late heir to the throne in state, and he saw 
 the tall candles around the long table on which Prince Paul
 
 130 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 lay. Before the door of Prince Karol's private apart- 
 ment, which the American had not yet seen, were four 
 Karmanian soldiers in service uniform; they presented arms 
 as Crossdale walked in. He found the Prime Minister lying 
 down on a divan, with all manner of light refreshments 
 and drinks around him and a cigarette between his fingers. 
 He greeted the engineer formally, almost as if he had been 
 a stranger. 
 
 "Sit down, Mr. Crossdale. I am afraid you have felt your- 
 self sadly forgotten." 
 
 "Of no importance whatsoever, your Excellency," said the 
 American. 
 
 "Everything that happens to a guest is of importance," 
 said the Prime Minister, with dignity. "Korvan goes to 
 Savia tomorrow to arrange for the funeral of Prince Paul. 
 You will go in with him, Mr. Crossdale, starting at dawn. I 
 cannot be your companion, as I had planned to be, when 
 you entered the capital. I remain by the body of Prince 
 Paul." Here the Prime Minister put his hand to his eyes. 
 Before the American could speak, he continued: "You know 
 that Prince Sarvan has disappeared?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "We are scouring the country for him," said the Prime 
 Minister, "and no effort will be spared to bring him back 
 to look upon the body of his brother." He looked at Cross- 
 dale keenly and added: "I speak of going tomorrow with 
 Lieutenant Korvan, but perhaps you would prefer to return 
 to Tamaresk and let us take up the question of civil engi- 
 neering when our country is a little more settled?" 
 
 Crossdale met Prince Karol squarely. Even should he
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 131 
 
 accept this proposition he felt certain that the Prime Min- 
 ister would not let him go far under the present conditions. 
 
 He said quietly: "I'm on my job, your Excellency. 
 Because your Prince has unfortunately been killed, it does 
 not mean that an American civil engineer has anything to 
 fear, either from the unrest of the country or from other 
 reasons." 
 
 Prince Karol put out his hand. "Excellent! I thought 
 you'd say that. I told you in the cedar cabin that you were 
 a good sport, Mr. Crossdale."
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 CROSSDALE SEES A SCREEN PICTURE 
 
 The next morning Jeff woke him on the nick of four, with 
 the science of a man accustomed to waking sleepers in their 
 berths without disturbing the whole car. "Boss," in a voice 
 as gentle as a woman's and as determined, "four o'clock, 
 Mister Crossdale, suh." 
 
 Crossdale stretched and yawned. "I could sleep for ten 
 years!" He made his toilet and drank his coffee by candle 
 light, for it was dark in this heart of the forest. His suit- 
 cases were packed and ready to go into the interior with 
 him, not out. He was penetrating further and further into 
 his Adventure. Jeff Robinson's appearance this morning 
 appeared to him too comical to be funny. In his tarbush 
 and livery he waited to further cover himself with a wolf- 
 skin motor-coat. 
 
 "Jeff, I want you to go and get your own outfit under- 
 stand?" The negro almost paled. 
 
 "When we start away from here at six I want to see you 
 in your own clothes." Crossdale had no intention of play- 
 ing father to the darky's love of costume. He did not want 
 a Karmanian slave; he wanted his own man servant in 
 American clothes, and he wanted him quick and he was 
 going to have him. He knocked the ashes off his cigarette 
 into the saucer of the cup, and after Jeff had left him gave
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 133 
 
 thanks, as he had done many times during the war, that he 
 was alone in the world when he took chances like these. He 
 could not think of any other advantages of being without 
 relations. 
 
 It was growing lighter every second. He got up and went 
 over to the window and looked out toward the approach of 
 the lodge, and he saw, coming noiselessly over the deep car- 
 pet of the pine needles, four horses galloping, horses with 
 their outriders; he watched them draw up to the lodge and 
 the postilions fling themselves off and stand stiffly. The 
 morning was still too dark for him to see distinctly, but a 
 treja was before the door and a woman alone in it, wrapped 
 up to the chin in furs. Before he could fully appreciate how 
 strange it was to see a woman here she had left the sledge 
 and flashed to the porch, the servants gathering about her. 
 There was no voice, no sound, merely a swift entrance and 
 an unbroken silence, cut into soon after by the whinnying 
 of the stallions. Crossdale stepped back from the window 
 quickly, guilty as a boy who has had a peep into a show 
 for which he had not paid his ticket. It had all been as 
 quick as a screen picture, and as silent. He had a dim 
 impression that she was tall, veiled, and he felt certain that 
 she must be the Queen. 
 
 It was of course possible that Prince Paul had a wife and 
 that she had been sent for. It might be any woman in the 
 Kingdom of Karmania no doubt there were other women; 
 but he never thought of any of them, only of the Queen and 
 her sister. He had no time, however, to wonder further, 
 for Jeff was back with two of the house servants, his valises 
 were carried out and he followed them.
 
 134 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 The night before Prince Karol had bidden him bon voyage, 
 telling him that he would see him in Savia, and there was 
 nothing for the American to do now but to go as expedi- 
 tiously as possible, without making any further demands on 
 the royal hospitality. All the servants of the lady who had 
 just arrived had disappeared; the treja had gone. 
 
 Stanislas waited by their treja, ready for departure. 
 As Crossdale got in, and they drove off together to the 
 jangling and tinkling and clashing and smashing of the 
 bells, he looked back at the royal lodge, before it was cur- 
 tained off by the cedars and the pines. It had a new 
 significance to him now. It had been full of charm when 
 he came to it; now it was full of tragedy, with the dead 
 Prince lying there in the light of the tall candles, and full 
 of fascination as well, because of the silent arrival of the 
 woman whom he believed to be the Queen.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 AND SEES THE CAPITAL FROM THE HEIGHTS 
 
 Captain Stanislas Korvan was the most serviceable piece 
 of goods he had seen unrolled before him since he came to 
 these parts! There was no apparent mystery about Korvan. 
 Practical, active, up-to-date, modern, and as far as Cross- 
 dale could judge, honest, he was an agreeable man of the 
 world. By the time they had climbed together the west- 
 ern face of Mount Nepta Crossdale felt that Stanislas Kor- 
 van was "all right," and it was a comfortable feeling; like 
 finding one satisfactory solid armchair in a room full of 
 good looking objects in which you did not place any too 
 much confidence. Stanislas was a comfortable sort of man 
 to have round and he was alive on the topics in which the 
 American was interested. 
 
 They had begun the ascent of the mountain in the bullock 
 carts of which Caleb Storm had spoken to Stephen in San 
 Francisco; mounting at a snail's pace in the wooden sleds 
 of the country behind four snow-white oxen, ever upward 
 into fresher, cooler, more rarified air, until the paths grew 
 too narrow for the sleds, and mules had met them, carry- 
 ing them ever higher, Korvan ahead, Crossdale following, 
 and Jefferson Robinson, at home for the first time on mule- 
 back and in his own clothes. 
 
 Toward the last ascent, when they had rounded their
 
 136 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 abyss and looked back to see the interminable blackness of 
 the forests lying far, far behind them, and before them 
 the sheer rock and the encroaching snow, when they had 
 seen the pin-speck in the dim distance that was Cye, some- 
 thing that looked like a far-off sea that was the steppes; 
 when they had seen these from a height of six thousand 
 feet, their mules turned tail and went back with their 
 drivers. And with Korvan and a couple of mountaineers, 
 Stephen and Jeff bringing up the rear, they finished the 
 ascent on foot to the hut on the most accessible peak of 
 Mount Nepta. 
 
 Stanislas Korvan had given the choice to Crossdale when 
 they left the bullocks, either to go over by an easy pass on 
 mule back, the path over which the funeral cortege of Prince 
 Paul would go into Savia, or to make the ascension, and the 
 American had chosen, as he expressed it to Korvan, "to go 
 the whole hog." They had begun to climb at six a. m. and 
 by four, before sundown, they had reached the mountain hut 
 where they were to pass the night on the summit of Mount 
 Nepta. When Korvan had finished his frugal supper, when 
 they had lit their pipes, the old mountaineer who had served 
 them withdrew to the fireplace to bank up the logs. The 
 snow without was up to the very doors. The climb had 
 enthused and invigorated Crossdale. 
 
 "What a life the open offers, Korvan! I've got a little old 
 ranch not far from San Francisco I won't bore you telling 
 about it, but you must come out and see it one of these days." 
 With his elbows on the table and his beer mug between his 
 hands, Crossdale felt kindly and warmly to every one. 
 They had eaten goat's milk cheese and drunk the country's
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 137 
 
 hard ale. He felt the blood bite in his cheeks and run hot 
 in his veins; he was tingling with life. The grand exercise 
 put him at his best. "By George, Korvan, when the tunnel 
 goes through, only mad mountain climbers will do this stunt! 
 Gad, that's what happens in civilization so many good 
 things go." 
 
 Korvan shrugged. "That won't bother me. I am all for 
 progress. I was born in Karmania, but I have been all 
 about, and now the dream of my life is " he paused a 
 moment "America." 
 
 He said this with much sincerity. He, too, was stimulated 
 by the wonderful journey. The two men were growing closer 
 together all the time. Crossdale wanted thoroughly to believe 
 in this man; he would have to have some one colleague in 
 this far-away place. "Come along," he said cheerily. "I will 
 show you all over California." 
 
 "Ranching," said Korvan, "isn't a bit what I want 
 though, Crossdale. I would like to go on in your profession, 
 civil engineering. Do you think there would be any kind of 
 opening for a chap like me?" Korvan was so serious that 
 Crossdale was surprised. 
 
 "But," he said, "you have got a good berth in the cabinet 
 of the Prime Minister. What more do you want?" 
 
 "Oh, it's a good berth all right," said Korvan, "excellent!" 
 He looked down at the bowl of his pipe. "You saw how 
 quickly I got my promotion to first secretary, didn't you, 
 Crossdale? His Excellency moved one pawn." 
 
 Crossdale nodded. "The favor of princes eh?" 
 
 "I am a modern man; I belong to the twentieth century," 
 said the other. "If the twentieth century doesn't do a little
 
 138 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 reaping here in Karmania, why, I think I'll emigrate." 
 
 Abruptly Crossdale asked him a question. He could 
 not help it; it suddenly came to him. "Did you ever have 
 much to do with the former Prime Minister?" 
 
 The young man blushed. "My relations have always been 
 with Prince Karol." Perfunctorily he changed the subject. 
 
 But Crossdale was embarked on dangerous subjects. He 
 was losing a little bit his balance up here in the heights. 
 "Look here, Korvan the Queen came to the royal lodge, 
 didn't she, about twenty minutes before we got away?" At 
 the other's open-mouthed astonishment, the American con- 
 tinued: "Oh, you needn't trouble to lie about it I saw her 
 arrive. It was a silent, unobstrusive entrance for the ruler 
 of a Kingdom. Now, come on, Korvan," Stephen asked 
 eagerly, with boyish curiosity, "it was the Queen, wasn't it?" 
 
 "Yes," said Korvan. "She came, of course, because of the 
 assassination of the Prince. She must have flown from 
 Pratz-Zenoe. And when his Excellency told her she just 
 sat down by the table where we were all gathered, put her 
 face in her hands and cried like a little girl." 
 
 "Poor dear," said Crossdale, gently. And all of a sudden 
 the Queen of Karmania became a woman in his thought, not 
 just a picture book thing with a ruined old capital around 
 her and an uncertain sceptre in her hand. "Poor " and he 
 did not quite know what noun to use, and said, "Poor girl! " 
 
 "They were playmates, the Princes and herself, brought 
 up together," said the First Secretary, "and although she 
 never cared very much for Paul, they were friends." 
 
 Crossdale, as the Karmanian spoke, seemed to see her 
 sitting there in the beautiful fur coat, crying into her hands
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 139 
 
 into her gloves, perhaps, if she had not taken them off, 
 just like a mere woman would. "They won't do a thing to 
 Prince Sarvan, will they, if they get him, Korvan?" 
 
 But the other did not answer as quickly as Crossdale 
 expected. "Prince Sarvan has a lucky star," he said slowly, 
 "and the Queen is very fond of him. It would be hard to 
 conceive of Sarvan and death together, Crossdale." 
 
 But Korvan retired into a shell of reserve; he looked so 
 thoughtfully and so penetratingly at his companion over 
 the red table, with the beer mugs and the remains of their 
 little supper, that Crossdale thought to himself: "Now this 
 damned old spy work is beginning on me, and I'm blamed 
 if I open my mouth about any of their affairs at the point of 
 a pistol!" He looked over toward the fire, where Jeff on a 
 stool was propped up against the wall, his arms folded, his 
 eyes shut, dropping into dreamland. 
 
 The American rose. "I guess I'll turn into that hole in the 
 wall, Korvan, and get some sleep." 
 
 "Good," said the First Secretary. "And I'll turn into the 
 other hole in the wall." 
 
 Before he rolled himself up in his blanket, Crossdale 
 waked up Jefferson Robinson and told him to take the third 
 bunk, and he thought to himself before he dozed off: "I 
 thought I was up here with two friends, but I'm only sure 
 that the black man is white." 
 
 Just before sundown on the following day they had nearly 
 finished their descent, and Crossdale at last looked over the 
 plains on the other side of the mountain to Savia. The view 
 was superb. All the sides of the range were wooded densely
 
 140 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 to the rocks, softening, paling at the base into a verdant 
 colorful valley, warm and soft and beautiful in the Septem- 
 ber hues of blue and rich warm green. He could see the 
 stacked corn fields; he could see little groups of white stucco 
 houses with dark roofs; a church dome here and there. 
 
 Stanislas, clinging to his arm, pointed: "Do you see that 
 pencil line? That's the run of the road, that's the railroad, 
 Crossdale our road your road." Alongside it Crossdale 
 could distinguish workmen's shanties and the outlines of 
 his buildings. 
 
 But all the fertile valley, tiny villages, the glassy flash 
 of a wide stream and the milky rushing and churning of a 
 mountain river even the line of the road which had brought 
 him from California to Karmania all was nothing but a 
 foreground to the hill city on which he felt his eyes could 
 rest forever. Abruptly out of this rich and fertile plain 
 rose one of those curious earthy phenomena that mark the 
 mountainous regions of Central Europe: a little mountain, 
 an overgrown hill, like a sugar loaf, high and pointed. And 
 tumbling down it, falling all over it, little old brown houses 
 the color of the earth itself, the houses of the mediaeval city 
 of Savia. And out of the soft brown mass, as though it 
 bloomed, rose the turrets and the towers and the walls of the 
 castle, a fairy castle with flags flying at half mast. One 
 by one, as though they were stars, the lights began to bloom 
 and blossom in those far-off windows; to bloom and blossom 
 and shine and glow, until at nightfall it was like looking 
 upon a blazing jewel, a glowing, glowing gem, when the hill 
 town was lit, window after window with its home light, and 
 the castle like a shining star. "That is Savia," Crossdale
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 141 
 
 heard the voice of Stanislas at his side say. And Crossdale 
 cleared his throat and answered: "Yes. I'm glad I've seen 
 it it is worth the journey." He knew why the flags were 
 flying at half mast because the heir to the throne had 
 b een murdered or killed, and the Queen was absent.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 CROSSDALE IS IN HIS BROWN TOWER 
 
 Crossdale was not King in one of the castles which had 
 attracted him from the Danube boat, but he had a neat little 
 dungeon of his own, a neat little turret; and he thought that 
 he ought to have gone into it in irons in order to have been 
 properly in the picture. Here he was, rising up out of the 
 Karmanian plains, within a mile and a half of the city walls. 
 He looked out from a round brown tower, whose stones had 
 been put together nine hundred years before. 
 
 "Korvan," he had said to his guide, when Lieutenant Kor- 
 van had handed over the keys of the brown tower, "I want 
 to tell you that if this was the dug-out they gave Baum- 
 garten, you need not try to wish it on to me, for I'm not 
 going inside." 
 
 But it appeared that Mr. Baumgarten and the rest of his 
 staff had put up at a hotel within the city walls, and the 
 charming old ruin which was allotted to Crossdale for his 
 occupation during his stay in Karmania was an especial 
 possession of the Prime Minister. Prince Karol used it for 
 a studio, and for some extraordinary reason he had handed 
 it over to the American engineer. 
 
 When Crossdale had been in it a week he found it fas- 
 cinating from all points of view. He went round in it he 
 could not do anything else in a round tower like a dog 
 settling down in a new home. North, east, south and west
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 143 
 
 he could view the country, and see the jewel-like city of 
 Savia rising on its sky-touching hill. 
 
 There were only three comfortable rooms hi the tower, his 
 study, a bedroom, and Jeff Robinson's kitchen, incongru- 
 ously opening from Crossdale's sanctum. On a table covered 
 with a rich green cloth, Crossdale had set out his traps. 
 Prince Karol had given him ten days in which to consider 
 his decision regarding the undertaking of the contracts. He 
 had an appointment with the Prince for the next day. 
 
 Prince Paul had been laid away in the mausoleum of his 
 ancestors. Crossdale had watched the funeral cortege pass 
 his windows. The procession was a picturesque one and 
 more than usually effective as he learned it was not Kar- 
 manian custom to go into mourning for death and, indeed, 
 the colors worn by the mourners were more brilliant than 
 usual. He discovered that in Karmania a person dead was, 
 if not forgotten, certainly not kept in the public eye, and 
 events went on as usual. He looked long at the dignified 
 and impressive group of people. Amongst those walking 
 humbly behind the bier was Prince Karol, in full-dress 
 uniform, holding a cross against his breast. There were 
 many women in the procession on foot and as they were all 
 veiled, their faces and heads completely hidden, he only 
 supposed that he saw the Queen of Karmania and her sister 
 among the others, but there was nothing to indicate rank or 
 royal state. 
 
 From another window he could look out on the one-track 
 road of the railway, the rails rusty, weeds and grass grow- 
 ing between the few ties. It went as far as the open mouth 
 of the tunnel and stopped short. This was the only evidence
 
 144 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 that the Kingdom of Karmania was on its way toward 
 progress by the means of steam and steel. 
 
 In spite of the strangeness and the fact that he was not 
 yet acclimated, Crossdale was thoroughly enjoying the 
 work, and in his part of the house Jeff Robinson was nearer 
 being a king than he ever would be again hi his life. He had 
 constituted himself man-of-all-work for Crossdale and under 
 him he had two native servants. Crossdale had refused 
 to allow him to annex more than these. Robinson had a 
 negro's love for pomp and power and it was "nuts" to him 
 to assert authority. He lorded it and kinged it over the 
 mild, humble Karmanians, who had been brought up in 
 hardship, with blows more common than daily bread. Cross- 
 dale had an eye on his companion, and was watching him 
 with anxiety as Jeff Robinson rapidly lost his head. 
 
 Since his arrival ten days before no post had come for 
 him. He had determined that come what would, he was 
 going to have his letters, if he had to go up to the castle and 
 demand them from the Queen I 
 
 Outside the round tower the September day was as clear 
 as glass, as fresh as fresh water, and Crossdale could hear 
 in the kitchen beyond the rich tones of Jeff Robinson's voice. 
 One reason that he had abducted Jeff Robinson was because 
 of the man's true, musical gift. Now Jeff was singing, just 
 so loudly that he could hear it agreeably: 
 
 "When you come to the end of a perfect day." 
 
 Crossdale heard the verse through. Jeff was preparing 
 lunch. Every now and then he gave the Karmanians their 
 heads in regard to cooking, but a great deal of the time 
 he did it all himself.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 145 
 
 Crossdale thought to himself: "Oh, a perfect day's all 
 right, but in order to make it so a man should not spend it 
 alone." 
 
 "When you come to the end of a perfect day." 
 
 Crossdale caught up a book and heaved it against the 
 kitchen door. In a second it opened and Jeff Robinson 
 stuck in his head. Jeff's passion for costuming was at its 
 height in Karmania. He had constructed himself a white 
 cap, which gave him the air of a first-class colored chef. 
 
 "Yo' call, boss?" 
 
 "Shut that everlasting noise." 
 
 "Yes, suh, Mister Crossdale. I just tossin' up " 
 
 "Well, toss up and shut up! " Jeff got out and very softly 
 closed the door on his master's black humor. 
 
 A judge of human character and of men's natures could 
 not have looked at Crossdale and heard him talk without 
 understanding what a fund of feeling and capacity for loving 
 lay within his deep nature. His mother had been an Irish 
 woman, and he had her wit and her imaginative sentiment. 
 His father had been pure New England, back as far as New 
 England can trace its history, and he had his father's poise 
 and common sense and level-headedness. 
 
 "Karmania is made up of Prime Ministers and half- 
 breeds and spies! Darn these monarchies! In any good old 
 republic a woman or two would walk around underneath 
 these windows." 
 
 He had seen already some of the native women, in little 
 bright groups, washing linen in the flowing stream; seen 
 their fine brown arms plunged hi the water; and he had 
 seen groups of villagers dancing the national whirra to the
 
 146 THE QUEEN OF K ARMANI A 
 
 music of the weird, characteristic instruments. The broad- 
 breasted, lithe women, with their magnetic eyes and smooth 
 brows, looked as though no care had ever come their way, 
 as though they only cared to sing and dance and whirl under 
 the light of the September stars. The most attractive and 
 characteristic of all the figures was the mad close of the 
 dance, when the woman, after dancing alone, flings herself 
 with a cry on the breast of the man she chooses. 
 
 His job interested him, and as well it interested him most 
 tremendously to know that in the course of events he 
 was going to see in flesh and blood the woman whose picture 
 he had in his portfolio in San Francisco. He had been wait- 
 ing for a propitious moment in which he could speak to 
 Stanislas Korvan and ask him further details about the 
 royal family. 
 
 Stanislas Korvan had taken him to one of those evening 
 dances on the edge of a vineyard, and he had told him that 
 the Karmanian women were the most beautiful in Central 
 Europe. He could believe it, and he did not believe that the 
 Queen up there in her inaccessible castle had anything on 
 these humble sisters of hers in the vineyards and the corn 
 fields, and bending over their linen in the stream. 
 
 "She must be stupid," he thought to himself, "to be a 
 Queen, anyway, in these times, and if she isn't she ought 
 to change the customs that permit a Prime Minister to slap 
 his servants in the face." 
 
 He was ready to find fault with anything, from within in 
 the kitchen to the Queen in her palace. He called in one of 
 the native servants, who because he spoke some English 
 had been designated for his service. "Serga, I want my
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 147 
 
 letters from the United States, and I'd like you to go to 
 Lieutenant Korvan and tell him so. You tell him for me 
 that if I don't get my post by tomorrow, I'm going to walk 
 out of the kingdom. Tell him that," he said, and the man 
 bowed as low as Crossdale would permit him, for the 
 American had made his servants cut their salutations short 
 by a foot. He wondered grimly afterwards how much the 
 man had understood. 
 
 He took his cap and stick, filled his pockets with cigar- 
 ettes and left his round tower room by another door. At 
 the door he met the Karmanian servant, who was starting 
 off obediently with the message, and the man said: "His 
 Excellency will not go out of the prescribed limits?" The 
 only response that Crossdale vouchsafed was: "Hell!"
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 AND THE QUEEN WAS IN HER PARLOR 
 
 The Queen was in her parlor, not eating bread and honey, 
 but preparing to give attention to public affairs. As she 
 faced her Prime Minister, she had neither sceptre nor crown 
 to indicate her royal estate, only a tennis racquet in her 
 hand. Prince Karol, who had not seen her since her return 
 from Paris and his return from the interior of the country, 
 laid down on the table between them a pile of serious look- 
 ing documents. "These are for your signature, Your 
 Majesty." 
 
 He saw at once that the Queen was in a state of great 
 excitement, under the sway of strong feeling. "Your 
 Excellency, I have sent for you to ask you immediately to 
 issue a proclamation giving the Prince Sarvan free entry 
 into the Kingdom." 
 
 She tapped the table lightly with the handle of the tennis 
 racquet as Prince Karol ventured: "A Queen must not per- 
 mit personal emotions to influence her duty." 
 
 "Stop! I command you!" He bowed, and when she 
 spoke again she was trying to command her anger. 
 
 "Sarvan is as innocent of the death of his brother as you 
 are as I am " she looked at him steadily " as, for 
 example, this strange American who has just arrived, I
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 149 
 
 understand. But to attribute fratricide to Sarvan is a 
 crime." She met her Prime Minister's eyes fully. 
 
 "A trial alone will clear him of guilt," said Prince Karol. 
 "And at all events, he is a dangerous rebel." 
 
 Queen Karmen Mara clapped her hands together and to 
 the servant who answered this Karmanian form of sum- 
 mons she said: "Ask Captain Refan Ugo to come here at 
 once." 
 
 Ugo, who had been waiting in the antechamber, came 
 in immediately, pale as ashes, slavish, making first a pro- 
 found salutation to his Sovereign and then to the Prime 
 Minister. 
 
 "What news have you of the Prince Sarvan?" 
 
 "Your Majesty, that he is still in the kingdom." 
 
 "If you pursue him, you will do so against my express 
 command. We will issue a proclamation today giving him 
 the freedom of his country. Why do you look at his Excel- 
 lency why don't you look at me, Refan Ugo?" 
 
 "Your Majesty," murmured the spy, "the orders are 
 uncompromising regarding the pursuit of the Prince." 
 
 Queen Karmen Mara sprang from her chair. She walked 
 up and down the room, then came back, stood before her 
 uncle, who had not moved. 
 
 "Your Majesty," he said, "I beg for all our sakes that 
 you will control your excitement. Parliament meets at 
 four. Whatever orders the Kingdom judges best to give 
 will be given from Parliament. Refan Ugo, the Queen will 
 be glad if you will retire." 
 
 On either side of the Queen stood two great boar hounds. 
 She was very pale, and her black hair, clear eyebrows and
 
 150 THE QUEEN OF K ARMANI A 
 
 dark lashes accentuated the pallor of the fresh young face. 
 She wound a hand in the collar of each dog. 
 
 "I see I am a prisoner in my own Kingdom. You are too 
 autocratic, your Excellency." 
 
 The Prime Minister lifted his head and looked her very 
 sternly in the eyes. Captain Refan Ugo had withdrawn. 
 In a well modulated voice the Prime Minister said: "Your 
 Majesty, you would wish then to see Karmania follow in the 
 footsteps of Russia?" 
 
 "Rather not!" 
 
 "We are within eight miles of the Russian border " 
 
 "I know." 
 
 "We believe that Prince John Sarvanarof is feeding his 
 rebel troops from the Soviets. We have been unable to pre- 
 vent an infiltration of Bolshevism, even with our excellent 
 spy system. Let me implore you have you any confidence 
 in your Prime Minister and in your Parliament?" 
 
 "You know that I have." 
 
 "Red peril will run riot in Karmania when John Sarvan- 
 arof is triumphant." 
 
 The Queen did not speak for a moment. She tapped the 
 back of one of her hands against her beautiful eyes. He 
 had impressed her. The color came back to her cheeks. 
 
 "I am fond of Sarvan, you know!" 
 
 Prince Karol bowed. "I appreciate the fact. But personal 
 affections and personal sympathies cannot, must not, sway 
 you now, Karmen Mara. He is a wild spirit, a revolutionary 
 fanatic. He merits neither your forgiveness nor your 
 mercy." He saw her lip tremble. "We were great friends," 
 she murmured, "we were playmates."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 151 
 
 "Come," said the Prime Minister, rising and going over 
 and taking her hand, which he lifted to his lips. "Be rea- 
 sonable. You will be present at the session of Parliament 
 this afternoon, and we will discuss the ways and means to 
 protect our Kingdom. Come, let's talk of something else." 
 
 She drew a long breath and shook her head ; then became, 
 according to one of her many sudden transitions, a girl 
 again, bewitching, charming. She seated herself on the 
 edge of the table, with the tennis racquet across her knees, 
 and she might have been any healthy young woman in from 
 a game of tennis on a fine September morning. 
 
 "Now, Uncle Karol, tell me all about this American engi- 
 neer." 
 
 The Prime Minister was delighted at her transition. If 
 he could once gain her complete acquiescence for the sum- 
 mary handling of the seditious young Prince, he would be 
 fortunate. 
 
 "You mean, tell you all about the resumption of labor 
 on the Royal State Railroad?" 
 
 The Queen shrugged. "After all, he is the storage battery, 
 isn't he? They say he has arrived in the capital with a negro 
 minstrel." She laughed. The Prime Minister, whom she 
 always amused, took a chair near her and looked at her with 
 indulgent affection. 
 
 "What sort of a person is he?" 
 
 "Good sort, rather a gentleman." 
 
 "How horrible!" she exclaimed. "I would prefer an out- 
 and-out savage! After all, breeding isn't indispensable to 
 the building of a proper tunnel." 
 
 "But if you have business dealings with a person, it is
 
 152 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 nice to be able to talk at ease with them. Mr. Crossdale is 
 an all-round sport, at all events." 
 
 "How did you discover that between Las Restaurus and 
 the capital?" 
 
 "He shot his wolves," the Prime Minister listed Cross- 
 dale comfortably, u he rides; he was dignified and satisfac- 
 tory during our sorrow." Here the Prime Minister crossed 
 himself, and the Queen did the same, bowing her head. "And 
 he was quite up to the mark in coming in to Karmania." 
 
 Here Karmen Mara laughed. "I didn't know it required 
 such an enormous amount of courage to cross a mountain." 
 
 "In his case, however, it called for a certain amount of 
 cool blood. He had heard of Baumgarten " 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 "And our poor Paul was killed the second night of Cross- 
 dale's arrival. After all this, he came quite tranquilly, 
 knowing that he was under suspicion." 
 
 The Queen raised her eyebrows and gave a little shrug. 
 Her smile was humorous as she said to her uncle: "Under 
 suspicion already?" with a fine accentuation of the last 
 word. 
 
 She took from the pocket of her sweater a thin gold cigar- 
 ette case, with two or three cigarettes in it, and offered it to 
 the Prime Minister. "Take one of these, Uncle Karol. They 
 are a new kind from London." 
 
 The Prime Minister lit one. She put her racquet down on 
 a chair and stood with her hands in the pockets of her 
 sweater, her eyes bent on her Prime Minister. Thus, she 
 looked less like a sporting woman and more like some one 
 in authority. She was tall; she was full of vigor; her figure
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 153 
 
 was as slender and as supple as a boy's, but it was generous, 
 too, with fine wholesome lines; shoulders which could carry 
 the burdens of life, and her head was up; she held it up and 
 held it well, with a level chin and a level gaze. The Prime 
 Minister had risen immediately when she slipped off the 
 table. 
 
 "Sarvanarof would use anyone who came to hand for a tool, 
 if he wanted him," returned the Prime Minister. "Why not 
 a civil engineer with official entry into the country, with our 
 apparent confidence, with freedom to go where he likes, to 
 see whom he chooses?" 
 
 "Does he speak Karmanian?" inquired the Queen. 
 
 "I am sure I don't know." 
 
 "Well," she said, with a little laugh, "he couldn't do a 
 great deal of propaganda work in Karmania in the kind of 
 English I have heard Americans speak." 
 
 It was wicked of her! It was tart! She began to walk 
 slowly, with fine assured step, with the right length of step, 
 too, for a tall woman, up and down the long high room in 
 which they sat. It was a beautiful room, what it should be 
 for a Queen's Council Chamber; small windows set in walls 
 four feet deep deep as wells; walls hung with flags won in 
 old wars on those russet hills and plains beyond; ceiling 
 banked, encrusted with color and in gold, bright centuries 
 before and tarnished under Time's touch. 
 
 "I didn't think Americans took any interest in political 
 intrigues of other countries." 
 
 "Oh," said the Prime Minister acridly, "Americans are a 
 mixture of Germans, Polish, Italians, English and Dutch. 
 There's no pure strain there as there is with us."
 
 154 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 Karmen Mara stopped in her walk over by one of the 
 small deep-set windows. "I'm not so sure, Uncle Karol, that 
 there is any great advantage in the pure old strain these 
 days. Good qualities become so attenuated." 
 
 Here the Prime Minister, who stood close to the long 
 table on which his papers lay outspread, waiting for the 
 Queen to set her hand and seal to them, asked abruptly, for 
 some reason of his own changing the subject: 
 
 "How do you find King Peter, Karmen Mara?" 
 
 "Ill," said the Queen, "very, very ill. I don't see how 
 he can live much longer, do you?" 
 
 All the light in her face seemed struck out as though by 
 a wand. She came slowly back to the table, and sat before it 
 in a dark curved armchair, covered with colorful silk-woven 
 tapestry. In its ancient setting her figure and her face looked 
 very young indeed. 
 
 "The King," she said colorlessly, "never changes. Yester- 
 day he didn't know me, called me by all kinds of strange 
 names. Today he knew me." And she continued: "I don't 
 know which is the worst for me the days he does know me 
 or the days he does not. It is horrible altogether." 
 
 The Prime Minister leaned over and dipped a pen in the 
 ink, put a document before the Queen and handed her the 
 pen. She took it, held it in the air and said: "I see you've 
 got your prisoner in your own tower?" The smile came back 
 to her lips and the humor to her eyes. 
 
 "Oh," smiled the Prime Minister, "you mean Mr. Cross- 
 dale? I've put him in my round tower because we can see 
 whatever he does so perfectly there; when he goes out and 
 when he comes in, and who comes in and who goes out!"
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 155 
 
 "How delightful for the stranger within our gates." 
 
 The Prime Minister waited patiently until she should see 
 fit to begin her morning's work. 
 
 "Would you like to meet Mr. Crossdale?" 
 
 She started and exclaimed, sincerely: 
 
 "Oh, horrors, no! Not on any account! I'm sure I don't 
 have to, do I? Why should I?" 
 
 "For no reason in the world," said the Prime Minister, 
 "excepting that you returned to the subject of this engineer." 
 
 "I had more than enough of Baumgarten," said Queen 
 Karmen Mara, with a little shiver of disgust. "Dreadful man! 
 I shall never forget his unpleasant personality. If he's a 
 type of civil engineer " 
 
 "Now this document," said the Prime Minister, leaning 
 over toward it, "is the Royal Resumption of the farms and 
 vineyards given over to free fanning to the people ten years 
 ago." 
 
 The Queen bent to it. "I oughtn't to sign it without read- 
 ing it through," she said wretchedly. 
 
 "That," he said, "is just what we are all here for, you 
 know to save your Majesty boredom." 
 
 Karmen Mara gave a comprehensive glance at the docu- 
 ments, neatly set forth, with marks in red ink where her 
 signature should be set, and before Karol could speak again, 
 swiftly gathered them, like a pack of cards, and held them, 
 laughing, rolling them together as though they were a roll 
 of music. 
 
 "I must be bored, however, your Excellency," she said, 
 with a charming inclination towards him, and falling with 
 a remarkable ease into an authority which was hers and
 
 156 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 which on their basis of uncle and niece she dropped entirely 
 when they spoke on any important subjects. "These are the 
 first papers I've had to sign since our armies were victorious, 
 and I'm going to look them over, read them through before 
 signing, if it gives me a headache, and if I sit up all 
 night." 
 
 The Prime Minister in his turn bowed formally. "As 
 Your Majesty pleases. I'm sorry you haven't sufficient 
 confidence " 
 
 "Oh," she exclaimed warmly, "I've made up my mind to 
 understand everything from beginning to end." And in 
 order to divert his thoughts she returned to the insignificant 
 unknown civil engineer, and said with warmth which as she 
 continued grew into passion: 
 
 "I return to this subject because it is so near my heart, 
 this building of the road. This splendid scheme of ours, to 
 connect Karmania with the river and the sea, it's the birth 
 of our commerce, it's our touchstone with civilization. I 
 realized in Paris what it was going to mean. I realized it 
 every step of the way home, and naturally I'm interested 
 to know if it's going through." 
 
 She sat on the table's edge and the Prime Minister, with 
 a sigh of relief, took his ease in his chair, crossed his short 
 legs, looked at his little finger ring, at his polished nails, and 
 settled the stiff collar of his tunic. "The road will go 
 through, Your Majesty." 
 
 Holding the roll of papers in her hand she leaned a little 
 towards him and spoke in a low tone: "I've thought some- 
 times you didn't favor the scheme of the road." 
 
 Neither her face nor her ardent look stirred the Prime
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 157 
 
 Minister from his ease. "Remember I sent to the United 
 States for this young man." 
 
 "But it was our scheme, you know, Your Excellency 
 Prince John's and mine. You know this. It was our dream." 
 
 "Now mine," said the Prime Minister patiently. "I am 
 as interested in it as you are." 
 
 "I hope the man understands the limits set to his wander- 
 ings in the forest?" 
 
 "Oh, quite. He has all the north woods to roam in. 
 It ought to be enough for him," the Prime Minister laughed, 
 "when he's working. But he's an open-air man and he's 
 given up a lot of leisure and out-of-door life to come here. 
 I shall have to see that he has some outside life, meets some 
 people." The Prime Minister wrinkled his brows, passed his 
 hand across his short, well-kept beard. 
 
 "I shall never forget," said the Queen, with a little laugh, 
 "the day we were picnicking by the spring and that dread- 
 ful Baumgarten in full Alpine regalia came stalking upon us, 
 with an Alpine stick and his dreadful boots! I think," she 
 continued, laughing again, "that he yodelled! I won't be 
 sure, but I think he did." 
 
 The Prime Minister laughed; he could not help it. Then 
 he rose with a sigh. "I came to transact important business 
 with Your Majesty. Everything will have to await your 
 pleasure. And I beg that Your Majesty will read these 
 papers before tomorrow, because holding them up will seri- 
 ously hamper us." He bowed over her hand and took leave. 
 
 "I see your treja at the door, stacked full of things, which 
 I suppose you brought from Paris or London for your 
 Birds?"
 
 158 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 "Yes," she said regretfully, "I was going to take them 
 myself." 
 
 At the curtain which he had lifted, for according to the 
 etiquette which the Queen exacted, no one came in with the 
 Prime Minister and no one let him out, he said : "I beg Your 
 Majesty to read the documents." 
 
 "I promise you I'll read them before tomorrow," she 
 said, with a sigh, "and I'll have to send Mariska to feed my 
 Birds."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 IN A STRANGE COUNTRY A ROOF-TREE AND A LOAF OF BREAD 
 ARE NOT SUFFICIENT. (KARMANIAN PROVERB) 
 
 The limits for his walks were prescribed; north as far as 
 he liked to the Pole had he been able to get there; but on 
 the left were the royal preserves and there he might not 
 trespass. It was not at all in the line of an American citizen 
 to enjoy being told where he might walk and where he might 
 not. When these orders had been conveyed to Crossdale 
 through Lieutenant Korvan, he demurred. "I wonder what 
 she thinks I'll do to her old preserves? Eat them? Perhaps 
 she is afraid I may see her at some dryad fete, or surprise 
 her in a woodland bath! " Now as he tramped he looked back 
 at little Savia on its hill. 
 
 "I bet the Queen doesn't know a United States citizen is 
 living in this ol' shack, and I wonder how much she cares 
 anyway about the Royal State Railroad Better a smooth- 
 browed peasant girl dancing the whirra, ready to throw her- 
 self against a man's breast, than an ice-cold woman who 
 couldn't follow a man if she loved him because she's a 
 Queen! She's a marionette!" he thought to himself. "Noth- 
 ing but a puppet, a figure in a painted show, and they'll ring 
 the curtain down on it pretty soon. I wonder where the 
 Princess Mariska is, and how much she has to do with all 
 that royal show?"
 
 160 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 Fighting against his devilish mood, he tramped hard, and 
 almost immediately struck the outskirts of the forest. He 
 knew already many of the paths which led for miles through 
 timberland. There were mountain climbs; there were walks 
 where the sheer abysses went down above the mountain 
 streams. And he was beginning to explore them all with a 
 man's love for the woods. After two hours' steady tramp 
 he became in tune with life. Vital, wholesome in his attitude 
 toward it, he began to enjoy the beauty of the forest. 
 Stanislas Korvan had already promised him sport and 
 planned boar hunts for the coming winter, taking it for 
 granted that Crossdale would remain. He tramped on, 
 began to climb, then descended, the blood racing through 
 him, growing every quarter of an hour more in shape and 
 more fit. 
 
 Finally he came out on to a clearing in the pines where 
 the ground before him was as smooth as velvet. He realized 
 that he had never been there before and that he had lost his 
 way. He looked at his wrist watch. It was after four. He 
 had walked nearly five hours, and to lose his way in a forest 
 such as this was no joke. He should have come out on to a 
 woodcutters' camp, where the men were felling wood for ties 
 for the new railroad. That was what he had really been 
 making for. 
 
 Whilst he was debating whether to go back or to push 
 ahead, he heard children's voices, laughter. He went forward 
 softly over the piney earth. As he advanced he saw an 
 extraordinarily civilized scene to be dropped down in the 
 heart of a pine forest; a little log cabin, covered with luxuri- 
 ous rose vines, on which the roses were big and yellow like
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 161 
 
 suns; at the back of it a still smaller cabin, like a child's toy 
 house, with a thatched roof and green doors and a low 
 green fence; within the entry he saw a herd of goats with 
 tinkling bells. 
 
 In front of the first cabin, a group of children hi the 
 native dress striped petticoats, sandals and tight lace caps 
 and little black smocked aprons were singing and making 
 a rosy ring. In the low doorway of the rose-covered hut 
 stood a peasant girl, with a great loaf of coarse bread pressed 
 against her breast, cutting the loaf in round slices and dis- 
 tributing it to the children, who one by one came up to 
 get a slice. 
 
 The girl herself was the orchestra; she was singing for 
 them to dance, singing one of the Queen's songs. Except her 
 extraordinary beauty and he had found out that many of 
 the native women were raving beauties there was nothing 
 at first to distinguish her from the Karmanian peasant 
 women, for she was dressed in the same fashion as were 
 those women who danced the whirra and threw themselves 
 against their lovers' breasts striped skirt, coarse and high 
 above the ankles; loose wide blouse; broad open collar, dis 
 playing her throat and neck; she wore no stockings, only 
 wooden sandals; and over her skirt and blouse was tied z 
 bright-blue apron, against which she pressed the coarse bread 
 as she cut it through from crust to crust with a big, bright 
 knife. 
 
 She was singing to the kiddies and calling to them, and 
 her laughter, her voice, were as delicious as anything he had 
 ever heard, even hi Karmania, where music is as natural as 
 the air. As she stood there, he knew her at once for the
 
 162 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 Princess Mariska. She was the girl of the little photograph 
 in California come true. There she stood, unbelievable, but 
 truly so. She had grown up, yet she had remained a child. 
 Now she came out from the low doorway, putting the bread 
 on a wooden bench under the roses. The children ran to her. 
 
 He saw that she was a tall woman, and made as kind Fate 
 makes certain of her favorites, to tempt, delight and satisfy. 
 She picked two roses from the vines as though she could 
 not resist them, put one above the top fold of her bright blue 
 apron and another behind one of her ears, so that it shone 
 against her dark hair. 
 
 Crossdale stirred and she started and cried out, and the 
 children, like frightened birds, clung to her. He came 
 forward. She turned white, then flushed a true country- 
 girl red. He bade her good morning in Karmanian as grace- 
 fully as he could. 
 
 "Tola, tola, I am terribly hungry," he said. "I would 
 give a kingdom if I had it for a piece of bread." 
 
 He stood looking at this Karmanian beauty quietly. He 
 had a great deal of natural dignity, although he was a demo- 
 crat from a country where there are no kings or queens or 
 royal blood. 
 
 The two young people looked at each other as though 
 they were primitive man and woman in that far-off forest, 
 each an unexpected sight to the other. He had taken her 
 in the moment he saw her, with a glad, wonderful leap of 
 his heart. Ever since he had first stood on the other side of 
 the photographer's window in Boston he had been charmed 
 by her aspect; until today he had been dreaming of her. 
 But that she could not know.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 163 
 
 As far as she was concerned, since they had taken her 
 away from the humble life in which she was born she had 
 never talked to or seen so real a man as this. To the children 
 she said: "Don't be frightened he won't eat you. It is a 
 stranger who has lost his way." And she looked at him and 
 laughed deliciously. "You have lost your way, haven't you? 
 Come into the hut, and I will give you some bread and 
 goat's milk, too." 
 
 She scattered the children towards the fenced-in goats 
 and another peasant woman, with two pails swung over her 
 shoulders, came up and took them in charge. 
 
 Crossdale, in order to go under the low door, bent his 
 head, and she brushed the lintel with her dark hair. They 
 went in together, between the vines of yellow roses, she 
 before him, supple, graceful, a girl of the wild woods, bare- 
 foot and so alive! She drew him into a little kitchen, hung 
 with blue and white ware, shining with pots and pans, and 
 on a scoured table were pans of milk set for cream. She 
 took a skimmer and skimmed the cream and filled a cup for 
 him. 
 
 "Sit down on that stool it is small, but it will hold you." 
 She nodded to him in the most friendly fashion. She was 
 gracious, but she was also wonderfully familiar. "You're 
 miles from your quarters you are Mr. Crossdale, of San 
 Francisco, the American engineer?" She made him so per- 
 fectly at his ease, more so than any stranger he had ever 
 seen, that he dared at a dash say to her what he had never 
 dreamed he would have had the courage to say without a 
 proper presentation. 
 
 "You are the Princess Mariska? I knew you at once."
 
 164 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 He saw her start and blush scarlet. She exclaimed: 
 "Really really how did you know, I wonder? How did 
 you guess such a thing?" 
 
 He was delighted with his debut. "I saw a picture," he 
 said, and waited. 
 
 "A picture of me?" 
 
 "Yes, in the taproom of the Cye inn a good picture, 
 better than most of those things usually are. It looks like 
 you, and," he added, "I have seen another." 
 
 She seemed extremely amused, probably by his daring. 
 She laughed a little and said: "How awfully, awfully funny!" 
 just as any girl at home might have said, and a strange 
 delight and joy and happiness ran through him. "Of course," 
 she was saying, "Donora Mariska, the Queen's sister! It 
 was awfully, awfully clever of you to guess!" 
 
 "Well," he thought to himself, "you are not the Queen, 
 but you are nearly as bad miles and miles away." 
 
 Her mouth was soft and red and desirable, with curves 
 made for kisses; her eyes were blue-gray, flecked with black, 
 her brows level, her lashes long; her skin warm in color, cool 
 as a flower in texture. Under the loose frank blouse he 
 could see the beauty of her throat. He knew now why he 
 had come from far to this Oriental country, why Storm had 
 been able to persuade him to come! He knew why he had 
 bought the photograph of her so many years ago! He knew 
 why he had been made a man, to love and to dream! This 
 was his woman, born thousands of miles away from his 
 birthplace, and put away from him by Fate immeasurably 
 far. But she was for him, and nothing else in the world 
 could ever count again if he could not have her for his own.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE MORNING BIRD ASKS A QUESTION OF THE DAY 
 WHICH THE NIGHT BIRD ANSWERS 
 
 "And so you're the American engineer! " At the other end 
 of the low bench, facing him with elbows on the table, she 
 linked her fingers together and stared over them at Cross- 
 dale. "How exciting it must be to build a railroad, no end 
 of sport!" 
 
 She had cut off a slice of the loaf and spread it with 
 butter. He had never in his life seen anything so brilliant 
 as this dark girl, with the yellow rose above her bib and 
 another trailing round her ear. It was a fairy tale come 
 true, and since he had bent over a picture book when he was 
 a little boy, he had never seen anything so charming. She 
 took a spoonful of clover honey, brown and fragrant, out of 
 a blue pot, and spread the bread with it. Then she held the 
 loaf again against her bib, taking up a savage looking knife. 
 
 "Oh, don't do that!" exclaimed Crossdale. "It is a ter- 
 rifying sight!" 
 
 "We all cut bread like that in Karmania even the Queen 
 cuts the bread at table. It is the custom here." She smiled, 
 lifting her eyebrows slightly. "Eat your bread and honey. 
 Don't you like it?" 
 
 "It is a feastl" he cried. But he watched her knife,
 
 166 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 fascinated, as it cut the bread through from crust to crust. 
 
 She drew in her underlip, over her strong white teeth, as 
 though she might bite a rose, and as thus she looked down 
 at her hand and the knife, he saw the charm of her regular 
 features, the sweep of her lashes, the race in her, the pure 
 strain; the fine wrist to which the full bare arm tapered, 
 and the strong white hand. He tried to trace the mark of the 
 brigand in her, of the breeding of the people. Certainly she 
 looked every inch a princess, come from what class she 
 might. He thought: "I don't wonder that the old King 
 carried them off!" And a great yearning toward her and a 
 jealous anger at the man who had taken this girl and her 
 sister by force, filled him. He blushed for her for what had 
 been in her past. He asked with difficulty: "Does the Queen 
 take an interest in the Royal State Railroad?" 
 
 She stopped cutting. "Oh, a frightful lot, of course!" 
 
 Crossdale laughed and shook his head. "I don't believe it! 
 What do women know about such things?" 
 
 He lifted his blue cup of luscious cream, like ivory. "I 
 am sure," he said, "it is not etiquette to drink a toast to the 
 Queen in milk, but here goes Heljen!" 
 
 He blushed, and the Queen's sister blushed as well. Then 
 she took a mug, reached over and touched his, then laughed 
 out loud. 
 
 "You might call it a milk toast," she said, with the 
 crinkles round her eyes and her mouth mirthful. "Her 
 Majesty will be most awfully amused." 
 
 She settled herself comfortably again on the bench, lean- 
 ing on the table, her dark head on one hand, the yellow 
 rose close to her palm. The adventure amused her, it was
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 167 
 
 evident. He could not take his eyes from her wrist and 
 her bare arm, where the loose shirt sleeve fell back. 
 
 "She is quite as royal as her sister," Crossdale thought, 
 "and just as far removed from me as the stars in heaven." 
 
 "Don't you know that you are on forbidden ground? How 
 did you ever find this place?" 
 
 And he said meaningly: "Oh, I believe I must have been 
 coming to this place for a long time." 
 
 "Don't they obey regulations in the United States?" 
 
 "There are always law breakers, but I really lost my way.'" 
 
 "I don't like to tell you how strict the orders are here. 
 It would have fared very ill indeed with you if the guards 
 had caught you." 
 
 With apparent contempt for the laws against trespassers, 
 he took another slice of bread and honey and said calmly: 
 "I feel perfectly secure and completely within the law just 
 at present." 
 
 "We obey in Karmania, and the higher up we are the more 
 we respect obedience." 
 
 "It is very human to disobey and we spend most of our 
 lives trying to evade rules made by ourselves. Now," he 
 said, "won't you tell me what this little fresh-air fund is? 
 Who are all these children?" 
 
 "It is a special charity of the Queen. There are lots of 
 these little open-air schools throughout Karmania. We call 
 them 'the Queen's Birds.' Do you like Karmania?" 
 
 And Crossdale said with enthusiasm: "I think it is the 
 most beautiful little country I ever saw! It is like a splendid 
 jewel." 
 
 "I'm glad, very glad indeed! There's nothing in the world
 
 168 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 the Karmanians love as they love their country. The Queen 
 is a great patriot." 
 
 "And you are, too!" 
 
 "Naturally. And all our hopes are centered now on the 
 Royal State Railway." 
 
 She leaned forward, both arms on the table and her 
 clasped hands a little toward him. Crossdale, who had 
 hoped that she was interested in him as man, hated to think 
 that she was interested in him solely because he was the 
 engineer. 
 
 "The Queen," she said, "came back from Paris because 
 the operations were to begin. You ask how much she knows 
 about it " the girl threw out her generous arms in a gener- 
 ous gesture. "She has followed the plans, she has read the 
 contracts; it was she who sent to America to implore the 
 Western Transportation Company to continue the work in 
 Karmania. She can hardly wait for the day when she shall 
 ride through the tunnel on a hand car." 
 
 Crossdale laughed out loud. "That's a good picture!" he 
 said. "The Queen of Karmania on a hand car!" But he 
 seemed to have offended her, for she drew herself up and 
 said gravely: "You, from a great country with thousands 
 and thousands of miles of rails, cannot appreciate what this 
 little ribbon of steel is to our Kingdom." 
 
 He said quickly: "Oh, but I do! I think I must have 
 appreciated it, don't you I came from very far away to 
 prove it!" 
 
 With one of her beautiful fingers she traced on the bare 
 table. "You seem as fully interested in it as the Queen her- 
 self."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 169 
 
 "We are sisters and great companions," she said quietly, 
 and then sprang up from the table, as though she heard 
 some one approaching the cottage, and went out of the door 
 hi a flash. 
 
 He did not know which was most wonderful to see her 
 move or to watch her as she sat quietly. 
 
 A man came up in hunting dress and she gave him minute 
 directions, pointing, gesticulating. When she came in she 
 said: "That's one of the foresters, Hazen. He will take you 
 back. It wouldn't be safe for you to go otherwise, because, 
 although you make light of them, the rules are very, very 
 strict indeed." 
 
 This was his congee. He had forgotten that the time must 
 come in a few moments when he would have to go, and that 
 he would be unlikely to see her again like this. 
 
 Mariska seemed to be studying him, and asked abruptly, 
 as he stood, hating to go and knowing that he must: "When 
 do you begin your work on the road?" 
 
 "I don't know I have been longing all day for some- 
 thing just like this." 
 
 She repeated his words: "Just like this?" 
 
 "For a homely scene and a woman's face." 
 
 "I understand," she said sympathetically. "It must be 
 horribly lonely in Uncle Karol's brown tower." 
 
 "I shall go back to the United States." 
 
 She sank down on the wooden bench without the door and 
 exclaimed: "Oh, I could never, never tell that to Her 
 Majesty!" 
 
 Crossdale, his hands in his pockets, stood and looked 
 down at her as though she had been an old friend. "Why
 
 170 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 should I stay?" he said coolly. "Any ordinary civil engineer 
 would do the work as well as I. You have only to send to 
 Paris or London or Vienna for some one to replace me. It 
 can be done in a week's time. There is really nothing for 
 me here but a railroad and a tunnel. It used to be good 
 enough, but it isn't any more." 
 
 She led the way to the gate and he followed her. The 
 forester stood respectfully waiting. "This man is the head 
 forester. He will see you safely back." 
 
 But Stephen was not to be shunted off like this. He 
 wanted more than he had ever wanted anything in his life 
 to return, but he did not let her see it, and put out his 
 hand frankly. "Good night." She gave him hers so 
 hesitatingly that he said: "Do you shake hands like that in 
 Karmania?" 
 
 "Hazen has a lamp it is growing dark. You will be 
 quite all right. But I don't know how I shall ever tell Her 
 Majesty this shocking news! What a dreadful and bitter 
 disappointment." 
 
 She gave some final orders to the forester in Karmanian. 
 When she spoke in English he thought her adorable; when 
 she fell into her native language he liked her even better. 
 They had reached the fence with the cedar pillar, against 
 which she leaned, with her hands on her hips. What a 
 woman she was! He had never dreamed that in his con- 
 trolled and reasonable self were the powers of appreciation 
 and delight that he felt now. 
 
 "I suppose nothing will change your decision?" 
 
 "I didn't say that." 
 
 She pointed to the little thatched houses over which the
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 171 
 
 evening sunlight was creeping. "It is homelike and sweet, 
 isn't it, this little place here?" 
 
 His heart leaped; he was going to win out! Looking 
 directly at her, holding her eyes with all the magnetism he 
 possessed, he repeated: "Yes, it is homelike, it is too wonder- 
 ful for words!" 
 
 Mariska put her hand out to him as any girl in the United 
 States might have done. Then, just as he was beginning to 
 take courage, a coldness came over her, a withdrawal, and 
 he had a curious sense of being far away, of never having 
 really spoken with her. She seemed to have gone to an 
 immeasurable distance. "Goodnight," she said again. 
 "You will be safe with the forester." 
 
 He was as struck by the dismissal as though she had dealt 
 him a blow. Then, as he went through the little gate, he 
 heard her say: "It won't be as far coming as going. Hazen 
 will take you by a short cut." She emphasized it; she 
 laughed unmistakingly, ravishingly, and repeated: "A short 
 cut." It was an undoubted intimation that there was a 
 means of return. 
 
 The windows of his tower were all open as he came up to 
 it, under two hours later. Before he knocked at the door 
 with the iron knocker he heard Jeff, secure in his solitude, 
 singing: 
 
 "When you come to the end of a perfect day."
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 WHEN A MAN SIGNS A CONTRACT FOR THE SAKE OF A WOMAN, 
 HE IMPERILS THE INHERITANCE. (KARMANIAN PROVERB.) 
 
 "Is there anything about me to indicate a man who has 
 taken a vital decision, Jeff?" 
 
 Jeff Robinson was clearing away his master's late break- 
 fast. Crossdale had slept until ten o'clock. Holding open 
 the door into the kitchen with one foot, and the tray in his 
 hands, Jeff gravely glanced his master over from his well set 
 head to his boots. 
 
 "Notin' at all, Boss, 'ceptin' yo' ain' got on no cravat, 
 Mister Crossdale." 
 
 "The deuce!" Crossdale put his hand up to his collar. 
 
 "And I am going to meet the Prime Minister in two 
 minutes!" 
 
 He was filled with anxiety lest Prince Karol might not 
 want him to stay in Karmania now, lest some unforeseen 
 circumstance should have changed the Government's plans. 
 Wouldn't he build the railroad for them! Wouldn't he run 
 the tunnel through! 
 
 He glanced as he waited up at the little old city, then 
 at the forest, and the dream he had dreamed up there 
 changed life for him. He asked but one thing to climb that 
 magic path again. When could he decently go back? 
 Tomorrow? 
 
 He had seen so many curious vehicles and means of
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 173 
 
 transportation since he had come that he would not have 
 been surprised to see any old thing drive up under his tower 
 window; but the smart little red wheeled cart, drawn by 
 a snow white mule, alive with bells, driven by the Prime 
 Minister himself, seemed too quaint to be true. This dis- 
 tinctly smart and debonair little equipage drew up before 
 the tower. The Prince Karol got out comfortably from the 
 back, in a gray felt hat and gray tweeds, a scarlet cravat, 
 smoking a big cigarette in a long holder. He came 
 unescorted, and he left his little mule to stand and nibble 
 the grass heads with no one to attend. 
 
 Whilst he climbed the tower stairs, Jeff Robinson handed 
 his gentleman a pencilled note with great secrecy, saying 
 behind his big black hand: "Mister Lieutenant Korvan do 
 say, read it quick, Mister Crossdale." 
 
 The engineer had just time to glance at it before Serga 
 announced the Prime Minister. "For God's sake, Cross- 
 dale don't fail to ask to have me attached to your staff. 
 Stanislas Korvan." 
 
 This was short, to the point, and Crossdale stuffed it in 
 his waistcoat pocket with a grin. "That old boy is the 
 clinging type," he thought to himself, "and sure to get his 
 way. He will succceed, Korvan will!" 
 
 The Prime Minister came forward, beaming. "My dear 
 Crossdale!" 
 
 And immediately the young man's hope rose high. "It 
 doesn't look as though he were going to run me out of the 
 Kingdom, anyway!" 
 
 "You have been here ten days, and I haven't had a 
 chance to see how comfortable or how uncomfortable you
 
 174 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 were." He looked around the study, took a chair in the 
 deep window. "I always sit in this window." He indicated 
 a chair on the other side of the green covered table. "Sit 
 there, Crossdale, where I can look at you." 
 
 "Clever old boy! Knows how to seat his victims," Cross- 
 dale thought. "He's got all the light on my face." 
 
 "Hope you're comfortable." 
 
 "It's a bully place," said the American. "I like it 
 immensely." 
 
 "I know of nobody else to whom I would give it. It 
 was my studio; I used to study and draw a little here before 
 I helped my niece to run our Kingdom." He laughed. 
 
 "If any one had ever told me I should be living in a 
 tenth-century tower rising like a mushroom out of a plain in 
 Central Europe, I should have thought he had delirium 
 tremens." And he added: "If you'd come here yesterday, 
 Your Excellency, I should have asked you to send me back 
 to Tamaresk." 
 
 "Indeed!" The Prime Minister lifted his heavy eye- 
 brows. 
 
 "I want to stipulate before I give you my answer," said 
 the engineer, "one or two things." 
 
 "Stipulate!" Karol repeated the word with a fine accent. 
 
 "You think a prisoner in the tower has no right to 
 stipulate!" 
 
 Prince Karol .laughed. "What can we do for you?" 
 
 "I don't like to feel if I fall over a stump or climb a fence 
 I would have a bullet under my jacket." 
 
 The Prime Minister nodded, laughing. "I see the 
 Queen's preserves!"
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 175 
 
 "I don't want my letters tampered with." 
 
 "And what more?" 
 
 "I'd like to have Lieutenant Korvan on my staff. You 
 can enter him as interpreter, secretary, what you like. I 
 need a native of discretion and authority to keep me 
 wise." 
 
 The door leading into Jeff's kitchen opened and Jeff 
 brought in black coffee, which he put down on the table. 
 The Prime Minister drank his. "I see no reason why you 
 should not receive your American letters." 
 
 "I have no other correspondence," said Stephen. "I give 
 you my word of honor that I am not in communication with 
 any country but my own." 
 
 The Prime Minister took from the pocket of his coat 
 a package of letters which looked wonderfully good to 
 Crossdale. "Here is your post, brought in today from 
 Tamaresk, intact. You find your colleagues O'Dell and 
 the others on the staff sympathetic?" 
 
 "Oh, I find them quite all right, Prince Karol. They 
 are on their jobs." 
 
 "Enlarge your pay rolls. Korvan will help you, and find 
 you new overseers and paymasters." 
 
 "I shall rush the road through from Cye to Roda and 
 beyond, and I dare say we'll corral a hundred or so of 
 these dancing dervishes before the New Year." 
 
 "Then as for your machinery and working stock Baum- 
 garten's offices will do to begin with?" 
 
 Crossdale smiled. "When I see modern machinery and 
 up-to-date compressed air drills, steel rails, dump carts, 
 electric engines, and all the stuff I am used to, housed in
 
 176 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 those scenery houses, it's a wonderful sight! The other day 
 when I saw a squad of workmen taking off their white 
 skirts and going off to the hydraulic pumps in red and blue 
 tights, I nearly wrote a film story. It's a great show, Prince 
 Karol! I shall winter in Cye in November, continue from 
 there, but work from both ends, and leave O'Dell here." 
 
 The Prime Minister put his hand on the green cloth of 
 the table and tapped the contracts. "Ready to sign?" 
 
 "I came from the United States to sign them. I won't 
 go into working details with Your Excellency," said the 
 engineer, "in regard to what I shall need. I'll talk it all 
 out with Korvan and O'Dell." 
 
 The Prime Minister adjusted his glasses and bent over the 
 papers. 
 
 "Her Majesty takes a deep interest hi the Royal State 
 Railroad, they tell me," Crossdale ventured. 
 
 The Prime Minister replied indifferently: "Railroads are 
 not toys for women. She knows nothing about it." 
 
 "The deuce!" Crossdale thought. "The Prime Minister 
 and the Queen's sister don't seem to agree on royal 
 tastes!" 
 
 "We have a long autumn," said the Prime Minister, "here 
 in Karmania." 
 
 Then he wrote under Stephen Crossdale's signature his 
 five Christian names, ending with a flourish under the 
 Sarvanaroj. 
 
 "Here, at this red cross, the Queen will sign." 
 
 There were four contracts. The two men signed them 
 all and the Prime Minister put them in a red-leather port- 
 folio, which he had brought in with him, and out of which
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 177 
 
 he now took a sheet of paper with the following note, and 
 laid it down before Stephen Crossdale. 
 
 "This," he said, "is an understanding between you and 
 me, Crossdale, a pledge of good faith on your side." 
 
 It was short and to the point: 
 "I agree not to leave the Kingdom of Karmania for 
 
 a year from the thirtieth of September, 1920, to the 
 
 thirtieth of September, 1921, without the permission of 
 
 the authorities, and to receive no letters and to write 
 
 none without the censorship of the Prime Minister's 
 
 Cabinet." 
 
 It did not seem as though he could put his signature to 
 that document. But as he hesitated, he seemed to see again 
 the finger of Mariska. He might go back to his ranch, but 
 there was no one like her in the U. S. A. He affixed his 
 name. 
 
 "Good!" The Prime Minister possessed himself of the 
 document. "You won't regret it." 
 
 As Prince Karol got into his mule cart, Crossdale threw 
 out as though it were only a last thought: "You'll revoke 
 those no trespassing laws, then, your Excellency?" 
 
 The Prince glanced benignantly along the broad white 
 back of his mule and said, apparently to a point between 
 the animal's ears: "But, yes, my poor Crossdale, why not? 
 In your case things are very different you are so enor- 
 mously persona grata with us all. And, moreover, your 
 peregrinations could not disturb Her Majesty's peace; she 
 is leaving for Pratz Zenoe. She is taking her husband, His 
 Majesty, for a rest cure. She will be gone for an indefinite 
 period. So, my dear fellow, there is no reason on God's
 
 178 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 earth why you should not have the freedom of the forests." 
 
 Prince Karol smiled affably on the young Californian, and 
 drove peacefully off behind his intelligent beast. 
 
 Poor Crossdale, as he watched the little vehicle roll 
 toward the high road, said to himself: "Done, by Jove! And 
 sandbagged into signing the rottenest paper ever! Gone to 
 some heathenish place what was it? Of course there are 
 no roads there I expect they get there on snail back or 
 something of that kind! But it won't do me any good, no 
 matter how they go. Confound myself for a sentimental 
 ass!" 
 
 The arrival of Karol in a mule cart and the picture of the 
 Queen's sister in wooden sandals robbed the Kingdom of 
 Karmania of a certain formality, and as Crossdale digested 
 his chagrin at the Prime Minister's news, the door of his 
 study was dashed open and Korvan leaped into the room. 
 He caught the American round the waist and waltzed him 
 round, crying as he did so: "Oh, Crossdale, you don't know 
 what this means!" 
 
 The other shook him off. "What the devil!" 
 
 The Karmanian, dishevelled, his monocle dangling, his 
 freckles lost in the crimsoning up of his face, fell into one 
 of the big chairs and held out a hand. "God bless you, old 
 chap!" Then pulling himself together asked: "How in 
 thunder ever did his Excellency let me go?" 
 
 "He didn't seem to mind in the least," returned Crossdale 
 drily. "It looks as if you'd got that awful bug of self-impor- 
 tance, too." 
 
 The young man replaced his monocle, fished out a cigar- 
 ette and in another second became the military-looking, con-
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 179 
 
 trolled young officer. "Seriously, though, old man, you can't 
 dream what you have done for me." 
 
 Very much later the engineer remembered the officer's 
 excitement at this release from his military duties, the change 
 of regime for him. It gave him an unhoped for freedom in 
 the Kingdom. 
 
 "I don't know how I can ever repay you!" 
 
 Crossdale threw himself down on the green lounge run- 
 ning along the wall under Prince Karol's books on sport 
 and linking his hands behind his head, laughed. "That's 
 all right if you really feel all this tremendous indebtedness 
 I dare say we can fix up a way in which you can work off 
 some of it right now." 
 
 Instantly Korvan looked suspicious. "Well " he said 
 tentatively. 
 
 But Crossdale took the fence; he had gone too far. "Tell 
 all you know about the Princess Mariska." He was thinking 
 of her deeply and very little of the Karmanian, but he could 
 not but notice the profound effect his demand produced. 
 
 Korvan murmured: "The Princess Mariska I" and his 
 jaw dropped. "But why on earth specially her?" 
 
 Instantly the American regretted that he had asked this 
 and he was rather confused. It would only make his interest 
 conspicuous to this man, attached to him so arbitrarily 
 now. "I expect I am giving my head to the lions!" he 
 thought to himself. 
 
 "Well, I rather liked the looks of the picture we saw 
 over in the Cye taproom. She's some girl, Korvan I" 
 
 A look of relief crossed the Karmanian's face. He threw 
 back his head, laughing. "Oh, that chromo!"
 
 180 THE QUEEN OF K ARMANI A 
 
 "Is she married to a duke or to one of those old Solomon 
 Johnnies that seem to stoke up their harems in this part of 
 the country? Poor girl!" 
 
 "Neither the one nor the other," said the Karmanian 
 peacefully. "She isn't married to anyone yet." 
 
 "Then she's got a good chance for a proper love affair, 
 hasn't she? I suppose she's gone with her sister to that 
 hot-air haunt up there, wherever it is?" 
 
 And Korvan helped him: "Pratz-Zenoe? Yes, that is our 
 fashionable spa on the way to Cye by the plains." And he 
 added with some feeling: "Between you and me, old top, I 
 don't think they will ever bring His Majesty back he can't 
 possibly live till spring." 
 
 "Ah," nodded the American, "you mustn't expect me to 
 cry about it, Korvan. Between you and me, I don't know of 
 anybody that it would give me more pleasure to shoot than 
 that old reprobate. Don't talk to me about him! Ever 
 since I heard about his kidnapping, I can't wait until I hear 
 the bells ring for his entrance into the next world. But I 
 suppose, as far as the Princess Mariska is concerned, I shall 
 have to wait." 
 
 And the other man asked quickly: "Wait for what?" 
 
 Crossdale laughed. "To compare her with the picture." 
 
 "Seriously, Crossdale, now that you and I are going to 
 be together, I shall have to warn you on all sorts of things, 
 I am afraid. You remember what I told you about the 
 pictures of the royal family? The Cye inn proprietor served 
 thirty days in gaol for exhibiting the Princess Mariska's 
 picture." 
 
 "Poor old boyl" said the American sympathetically. Kor-
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 181 
 
 van had sprung up and was walking round the room as he 
 talked. 
 
 "Quit walking round like a bear, Korvan. Let's get to 
 business. Baumgarten may have been a bounder, but he was 
 pretty well fixed up as far as modern machinery goes. With 
 what is on the premises we can continue operations until the 
 spring that is, if you will get the Prime Minister to 
 authorize me to buy a lot of war dump that I know is hang- 
 ing round within a few miles of Tamaresk on the Rouma- 
 nian frontier." Korvan listened. 
 
 "There are a whole lot of valuable war shanties. We can 
 use them and use the timber. Besides that there's an outfit 
 of electric engines, cars, compressed air drills, pretty nearly 
 everything shipshape and in good condition. Now," said 
 Crossdale, "we'll get that in," and he looked at Korvan and 
 smiled, "how, old boy? It's good rolling stock, but it can't 
 walk over from where it's lying now." 
 
 "Oh," said Korvan, "that's easy. We will carry it in as 
 we carry in everything else, by mule and oxcart." 
 
 "It is at Gieurgevo," said Crossdale, "about an hour from 
 Tamaresk, and we'll get busy and order it sent in. How 
 long will it take?" 
 
 Korvan mused. "Well, this is September. We ought to 
 have the whole lot in Cye by November first." 
 
 "Good!" said Crossdale. "That is the right time." 
 
 The news that the Prime Minister had given him at the 
 wheel of the mule cart had made the rose-covered cottage 
 seem for the present a thing of dreams. He said indifferently: 
 "No man likes to be barbed-wired off as though he were a 
 tramp or a poacher. However, that's settled."
 
 182 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 "I understand," said Korvan, "that you didn't like the 
 'no trespassing' on the Queen's preserves." He looked 
 amused. "You see, Baumgarten was a bounder, and a 
 traitor." 
 
 "Oh, damn Baumgarten." 
 
 "Decidedly," said Korvan. "He was that kind! But 
 he gave civil engineers a bad name. He had neither discre- 
 tion, tact, nor good manners." After a second he said seri- 
 ously: "They're on Prince Sarvan's trail, I'm afraid." 
 
 "You don't mean," said Crossdale, "that there is serious 
 justice in this little house of cards, do you, Korvan?" 
 
 "Death," said the other, "is always serious, isn't it?" 
 
 "Bad as that?" said Crossdale. 
 
 "There was a Privy Council meeting at four yesterday 
 afternoon, and the Queen demanded the Prince's safe con- 
 duct, but the Prime Minister was too much for Karmen 
 Mara. She made a fine appeal, though, and when she saw 
 that she wasn't gaining headway, left the Council Chamber 
 royally, I assure you, Crossdale although you don't believe 
 in our forms and traditions." 
 
 "Why," said Crossdale, "the old man Karol is quite a 
 power! But I like-it in the Queen." Korvan's picture of the 
 Queen pleading for her old playmate attracted him. It was 
 only when human touches gave warmth to the picture of her 
 that he thought of her except in connection with her sister. 
 
 Korvan went over to the big table and began to stir among 
 the papers in which he felt a new interest. "I can't wait to 
 get to work with you, I can't wait!" 
 
 But Crossdale was musing. "Oh, I can," he said. "I can 
 always wait to begin, and when I've begun, then I can't
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 183 
 
 stop. Where is this home for broken-down kings they are 
 going to take the old Johnny to?" 
 
 "Pratz-Zenoe it's on the borders of Roumania, to the 
 west, near Cye," said Korvan, "on the other side of the 
 mountain." 
 
 Crossdale looked up. "You don't mean," he said, "that 
 they are going to transport that dying old gentleman above 
 our unborn tunnel, do you?" 
 
 "Oh, no," said Korvan, "not by any means they go 
 round. It's a long journey, though." 
 
 Standing by Korvan's side, watching the Karmanian 
 handle the papers he knew so well, Crossdale said: "O'Dell 
 can direct the mining operations from this end for the 
 present. Now, how many men can you get me on the pay- 
 roll on the other side of the mountain by October first?" 
 
 "How many do you want?" 
 
 "Well, we don't want to use more than two hundred and 
 fifty native laborers on the whole tunnel project, Korvan. 
 Now, as for the road, that's different. My plan is to work 
 on the Cye side from November and we'll pop over and 
 continue this side after the snows have gone." 
 
 "You can always come round by Pratz-Zenoe," Korvan 
 told him, "if you don't mind cold feet and a frozen nose 
 crossing the plains in storms and snow." 
 
 Crossdale laughed. "I don't mind crossing anything," he 
 said, "if what I want is on the other side."
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 HE FINDS AN EMPTY NEST, BUT HE TRAPS A FOX 
 
 Early next morning he took the little climbing path again, 
 retracing the steep incline by which Hazen had led him down. 
 Before he got to the clearing he listened for the children's 
 voices, but only the tap of a woodpecker on a far-off tree 
 broke the stillness. The clearing was empty, flecked with 
 sun and shadow, and through the trees he could see the set- 
 tlement. The little green doors were shut, windows and 
 shutters closed, the toy houses ready to be put back into the 
 ark. The game was over! A sense of defeat and disappoint- 
 ment and irritation came with the sight. What a fool he had 
 been! She had not meant him to come back. She had sent 
 him home the shortest way and had meant nothing by it. He 
 had been the duffer! He was the goat! Nevertheless, he 
 found himself drawn magnetically to the little dairy house 
 and went to the window from which one of the shutters was 
 slightly drawn, and there on the broad stone of the sill, 
 close to the vine, he saw a three-cornered pencilled note held 
 down by a couple of stones. It was addressed in a round, 
 full hand: "To the Man Who Lost His Way." 
 
 A feeling of gladness rushed over him, of great surprise 
 and delight. For a second it made almost no difference that 
 she was not there. Standing by the rose vine, he read the 
 note:
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 185 
 
 "If you are what I think you are you will come here today 
 and find this note. A man who can build roads can find them, 
 too. Sometime ia November at the Queen's lodge at Cye." 
 
 The words were printed as a child might print them, in 
 bold characters. The triumph of it struck Crossdale almost 
 like a blow and brought her before his vision, gracious, warm 
 and vital. What a fine, clean cut girl she was! He could 
 see her standing there laughing, with the crinkles about her 
 eyes. 
 
 He read the little slip of paper twice. It said so much 
 and so little. This was September. "The Queen's lodge at 
 Cye sometime in November." Two months! What a sport 
 she was! He put his hand on the little house and patted it 
 as though it had been a kitten. He picked a yellow rose with 
 a sort of humorous reverence, and put it with the note in his 
 pocket, then walked slowly away from the dolls' houses, 
 dreaming like a boy. She wanted to see him again! It was 
 too good to be true. What could she have seen to like in 
 him? Whereas the man did not live who would not be car- 
 ried away by her. Two months! Did it take the old King 
 all that time to decide whether he was going to live or die? 
 Why should he need the whole court with him to help him 
 make up his mind? If the Queen were on her job, why 
 could not Donora Mariska stay at home? 
 
 Dreaming, musing, turning over the charm of it in his 
 stimulated mind, Crossdale walked slowly back through the 
 clearing to the path, and as he struck it saw the figure of a 
 man moving among the trees and saw him step quickly 
 behind a pine. Crossdale made a spring to where the man 
 stood, caught him by the shoulders, turned him round and
 
 186 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 looked into the face of Refan Ugo. The fact that this man 
 was spying on him infuriated Crossdale. 
 
 "You damned blackguard," he said between his teeth, 
 "see if you can give me as good as you are going to get!" 
 
 In another second the men had closed in primitive hand- 
 to-hand, body-to-body fight. The Slav was wiry and in 
 training, but the American was the better man by all odds, 
 even if he was angry. He fought with the fury of a man 
 pursued, spied upon, and an anger possessed him at the 
 unfairness of the chase. A kingdom against one man! He 
 was merciless. He threw the spy and twisted his hand in 
 the man's collar until he realized that he had to stop. Then 
 he threw him from him, gathered himself together and 
 watched Ugo come to life. 
 
 The spy sat up, gurgling, and Crossdale leaned down and 
 loosened his collar and his cravat. "You're not as bad as all 
 that. Buck up! Listen to what I've got to say." 
 
 When Refan Ugo had his breath and had struggled to his 
 feet, he leaned against a tree for support, panting, little the 
 worse for the throw down. "So that is the way you are 
 taking in order to ingratiate yourself with your chief, is it, 
 Ugo? You think that he will reinstate you if you give him 
 some new proof of your efficiency? Well, I have only given 
 you what was coming to you, and I have had it in for you 
 ever since Tamaresk." 
 
 "Let me get my wind." 
 
 Crossdale sat down on a stump. He had not even taken 
 off his coat, torn a little on the shoulder where the spy had 
 grabbed it. He took out a cigarette, lit it, watching the 
 other. "As soon as you can walk, start out, and keep in
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 187 
 
 front of me. And I want to tell you that I don't go about 
 like a nursery maid. I've got something in my hip pocket 
 that will settle everything with you, old chap, and I'd just 
 as soon shoot you from the back as any other way. You 
 come home with me and we'll talk things over by the kitchen 
 fire." 
 
 In the tower study Crossdale seated the spy with the light 
 on his face. They had been observed by no one as they 
 went up the little stairs and Crossdale let himself in with 
 his key. 
 
 "You and I are going to have this out between us, Refan 
 Ugo." 
 
 Since Crossdale had struck him in the face with his fist 
 the spy had not spoken a word except to ask to be allowed 
 to get his breath. "How long have you been on my trail?" 
 
 "Ever since you arrived." 
 
 "Good," said Crossdale. "Of what am I suspected?" 
 
 "Of being the agent of Prince John Sarvanarof." 
 
 "Astute!" said the American. "And what have you handed 
 in?" 
 
 "Nothing as yet." 
 
 "How did you happen to track me into the forest this 
 morning?" 
 
 "Saw you start from here." 
 
 "Didn't get much out of it, did you?" 
 
 "Except that you took something from the window of the 
 Queen's dairy, nothing." 
 
 "Do you know what that was?" 
 
 "You got there before I did." How much of what Ugo
 
 188 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 said was true, Crossdale had no possible means of finding out. 
 
 "Ugo, I had just as soon drill you through and blow 
 you up with dynamite as anything I can think of! Have I 
 ever been up to those little dolls' houses before that you 
 know of?" 
 
 "No," the man said frankly. "I know you haven't been. 
 You would have been shot if you had trespassed on the 
 Queen's preserves." 
 
 "Right," said Crossdale coolly. "This was the first time." 
 
 "You've been given permission to wander as you like since 
 yesterday, and that was the reason I followed you there 
 today." 
 
 "I am going to be frank with you, Ugo," the American 
 said slowly. "My life is worth a certain amount to me, and 
 so is yours, I guess. You can, when you go out of this 
 place, give me over to the authorities of this little inquisition 
 of yours, and that is what you're going to try to do. I'm 
 only one man here against a kingdom." 
 
 He put his revolver on the table. The spy took out a little 
 notebook with a rubber strap around it, and handed it over 
 to Crossdale, and brought out also two letters for him, with 
 the seals unbroken, and two wires. 
 
 "These," he said, "came this morning for you. I was to 
 deliver them to Lieutenant Korvan today, after handing 
 them to the Prime Minister. From now on all your mail will 
 come to you clear. Open my notebook." 
 
 Crossdale did so, and on the page that he opened at he 
 read: "Mr. Crossdale gives absolutely no cause for suspicion 
 of any kind so far." 
 
 "Fine!" exclaimed the American, with a short laugh. "I
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 189 
 
 never felt so perfectly at home in my life as I do here! Fill 
 it full of poetry like that, and that's all I ask of you." 
 
 "Mr. Crossdale, have you any proposition to make me 
 that I could accept?" 
 
 The engineer fixed him with his keen, intelligent eyes. 
 "Well, I don't know. Rather, I do know any proposition I 
 made you would be immediately catalogued against me, 
 turned over to the Prime Minister in a few hours. Isn't that 
 so?" 
 
 "No," said Ugo. "I am just as interested hi my own 
 future as any man is, and I am up to any good proposition. 
 You could not buy me if I was not sure of your loyalty to 
 the Queen and to the monarchy. I am sure of that, and 
 whilst you are in Karmania you can count on me." 
 
 "What did I take from the window sill of the little hut in 
 the woods?" He was perfectly convinced that Ugo had not 
 come up in time to see what he had really taken. 
 
 "I have no idea." 
 
 Crossdale took the yellow rose from his pocket. "This 
 rose. I raise these yellow roses in California I wanted it 
 for a specimen." 
 
 The spy bowed respectfully. "I understand perfectly. I 
 am something of a gardener myself." 
 
 "Good!" said Crossdale. "Most of the ill and most of the 
 good hi the world started in a garden." 
 
 Ugo went over to a mirror and settled his disarranged 
 clothing, put himself in order. 
 
 "You studied ju-jitsu in your country, Mr. Crossdale?" 
 
 "I can play football a little," said the young man. 
 
 "The next time you see his Excellency," said Ugo, "you
 
 190 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 will see that I have proved my good faith. Things will 
 change for you in the kingdom." 
 
 "It is just as well they should," said Crossdale coolly, 
 "and as far as you are concerned, let me warn you, Ugo, that 
 I don't hesitate to shoot on sight if I think it is the thing to 
 do, and take the consequences." 
 
 Here Crossdale heard the sound of steps on the stairs 
 without and Jeff's voice. "Come in!" he said, as Jefferson 
 Robinson rapped at the door. 
 
 Jeff opened it, to allow the mad entrance of Bela and 
 Tristan, who entered the tower room like catapults, barking, 
 crying, whining. They sprang upon Crossdale, they licked 
 his hands and his feet. His surprise and delight at the sight 
 of them was great. 
 
 "Why, you old hounds!" he said affectionately. "Why, 
 you old boys! Who's coming after you, I wonder? Who is 
 the next pair?" In the door behind Jeff stood Serga and a 
 tall native, in the house livery of the Queen. 
 
 "Your Excellency," said Serga, "this man has brought the 
 wolfhounds with the Prime Minister's compliments. They 
 are a present to you." 
 
 How they whined and fawned! Bela was down at his 
 feet, on her belly, with her nose on his boot, in an attitude 
 of the most remarkable submission, as though she came and 
 called him master. 
 
 "Good night," he said to the spy. "I shall see the Prime 
 Minister in a few days, and I shall know what to do with 
 you afterward." 
 
 When he was alone Crossdale made himself at home with 
 his dogs. He was wild about them. He did not know which
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 191 
 
 one was the most appealing the darker Tristan, with his 
 intelligent eyes, or the more affectionate female, with her 
 humble devotion. He wanted to be alone with them, whom 
 he could trust, and to sit there before his table piled with 
 work and finger the queer little printed note again and 
 re-read it, this curious little communication to him from a 
 strange woman in this unfriendly country. 
 
 He sat down facing the window, which looked out on the 
 climbing hill town of Savia, with the meadows between, and 
 spread out the little bit of paper before him on the green 
 cloth. 
 
 "To the Man Who Lost His Way." (He had not lost it- 
 he had found it! ) "If you are what I think you are " It 
 meant that she thought about him, wondered about him, 
 that she had formed an opinion about him. She knew that 
 he was not afraid and that he wanted to come back. " you 
 will find roads as well as build them. Sometime in Novem- 
 ber. At the Queen's lodge at Cye." 
 
 He thought to himself: "If, as Ugo says, I'm under sur- 
 veillance, of course the Queen knows and so does she. They 
 think that I'm plotting with Sarvanarof to overthrow this 
 little petty kingdom! If she knows anything about me she 
 thinks that I'm a rotten anarchist, a Bolshevist, an intruder." 
 
 He mused on the letter, so unexpected and so full of sug- 
 gestion. And the yellow rose lay beside it crushed, as it had 
 been crushed against his body and had borne the brunt of 
 the hand-to-hand fight with Ugo. It was fragrant. He 
 touched it gently. 
 
 He said to the dogs, who stood one on each side of him, 
 in the position they took from then on: "I can speak the
 
 192 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 language you were brought up in, boys, and we understand 
 one another, and I don't feel quite so alone. There's Jeff and 
 you and me and this rose, and we're all right! But I can't 
 be sure even yet about the letter!"
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE QUEEN INVERTS THE PROVERB: "LOVE ME LOVE MY DOG" 
 
 "Since the dogs approve of him, why not make him a 
 present of Bela and Tristan?" As the Queen spoke, the two 
 wolfhounds, stretched out asleep on their sides like dead 
 dogs, in the warmest patch of sunlight on the terrace, gave 
 sign of life. Tristan slapped his tail indolently; Bela, the 
 female, came to where the Queen sat and laid her head on 
 the low table, level with her neck. 
 
 Karmen Mara was eating green figs, decorative and 
 luscious in a glass dish with their leaves round them, and 
 she ate them with the air of a connoisseur, of an epicure; 
 broke them open and dipped their pink pulp into a dish of 
 cream at her side. Bela watched her, but eliciting no atten- 
 tion, returned to the sunlight and lay down. Her Majesty 
 was at a very late breakfast on the southern terrace, hanging 
 out over the moat. From here the view of the little crumbling, 
 falling-down-hill town was lost, and over the balcony rail the 
 Queen looked on pastures white with sheep, on rolling 
 farms and fields and a winding stream, blue as a peacock's 
 feather, and on the hill line that separated Karmania from 
 Roumania and Russia. 
 
 The confused, indistinct murmur of an Oriental com- 
 munity came humming, droning, calling up to her, always 
 musical, and the voices seemed to call her. She could hear 
 them often crying "Heljen/ Heljent" and thrilled always, in
 
 194 THE QUEEN OF K ARMANI A 
 
 spite of the fact that she had heard it for over eight years, 
 for she had been crowned when she was sixteen, on her mar- 
 riage to the old King. 
 
 His back to the view and his face towards his sovereign, 
 the Prime Minister reclined in a wicker chair, his short legs 
 crossed, his soft felt hat on the floor with his stick and 
 gloves. He was enjoying the Anglo-Saxon pleasure of a pipe, 
 caressing the bowl with his well-kept hand. "Your Majesty 
 is breakfasting very late." 
 
 "I slept badly last night," said the Queen cheerfully. She 
 did not look it. She had a distinct air of assurance, the 
 unmistakable look of a young woman who had come from a 
 minute and careful toilette; of a young woman used to cold 
 showers and cold baths and regular exercise and proper 
 hours. On this special morning she was the expression of 
 good health and good spirits. 
 
 "You should not sleep badly at your age," said the Prime 
 Minister. "You work too hard your light burned in your 
 study until after one o'clock." 
 
 Queen Karmen Mara paused, a fig between her two 
 fingers. "Do you keep tab on the hours of your prisoner in 
 the tower? I shall draw my blinds, although I like to see the 
 night as well as I like to see the day." She gave a little 
 shrug and ate the fig. 
 
 "Sentinels must report, my dear," said her uncle. "What 
 would you think if no one watched your safety? This morn- 
 ing I simply read the usual report." 
 
 "I was writing a new song last night," said Karmen Mara 
 meditatively. "And afterwards I had all sorts of non- 
 sensical dreams, so I slept late to catch up." Over her
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 195 
 
 shoulder she said to the servant who stood behind her chair: 
 "Paulus." 
 
 ''Your Majesty." 
 
 "You will take Bela and Tristan " Here both dogs got 
 up definitely, came over to her. They knew that there was 
 something serious in the mention of their names, and ready 
 to be at hand they stood on either side of her chair as they 
 had stood on either side of Crossdale's chair down in the 
 forest lodge. Since coming to the castle they had been 
 combed and washed and brushed, and their long coats shone 
 like silver. Each dog wore a heavy silver chain over green 
 leather with the royal coat of arms. They were royal looking 
 animals and the expression in their eyes was more than 
 royal. Tristan put his feet on the arm of the Queen's 
 chair and tried to lick her face. She put him down gently. 
 
 "You will take Bela and Tristan to the tower and present 
 them to the American engineer, Mr. Crossdale, with the 
 Prime Minister's compliments." 
 
 "At once, Your Majesty?" 
 
 "When I have gone out to ride. Leave them for the 
 present." And to her uncle she said: "I wouldn't want 
 them to know I have given them away. You may go, 
 Paulus." 
 
 "My dear girl," said the Prime Minister, taking his pipe 
 out of his mouth and looking at her severely, "what on earth 
 did you do that for?" 
 
 "Oh, I don't know," said the Queen. "Spanish polite- 
 ness when a guest admires something, you give it to him!" 
 
 "You would give your kingdom to a mountebank, if I were 
 not here to keep watch over you."
 
 196 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 The Queen had finished her breakfast. After giving each 
 of the dogs a fig, which they ate appreciatively, she dipped 
 her fingers in the bowl and wiped them and put her napkin 
 down and turned her chair from the table. "Only half my 
 Kingdom that's the classic form, isn't it? 'Even to the 
 half of my kingdom.' " 
 
 Now that she turned about in her chair one could see that 
 she dressed with originality. She wore a sort of Cossack boot 
 of white leather with red heels; a morning boot to be slipped 
 on quickly and off as quickly; a short white skirt of thick 
 homespun woven in the kingdom; and over this a silk jacket 
 of a pomegranate color, richly embroidered, again the work 
 of Karmanian women, low at the neck and she could 
 stand for it, for her neck and the column of her throat were 
 superb; and over her closely curling hair, dressed so close 
 that it had the appearance of being short like a boy's, a 
 round, embroidered cap like her tunic, and it covered her 
 head all but the escaping curls of dark hair. 
 
 Her face was piquant and brilliant, full of humor, but on 
 the lips and in the eyes there was fire and passion and 
 much spirit, and in the deep indentures of her mouth and 
 in the pallor of her face, mobile and expressive, there was 
 feeling, no end of it. There was character, no end of it. 
 
 "Half of my kingdom," she repeated, in a low tone, and 
 got up and came and leaned on the terrace close to her 
 uncle, and spread out her hand toward the south. 
 
 "Decidedly not that half," she murmured, "not that rich 
 and glorious south! Isn't it beautiful, Uncle Karol? What 
 woman ever had a more heavenly little land to reign over? 
 Not the south, then."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 197 
 
 She stood with both hands on her hips, looking down 
 and smiling at the Prime Minister, who, by an imperious 
 gesture not to be disobeyed, she had forbidden to leave his 
 chair. 
 
 "And decidedly not the half with Mount Nepta and my 
 forests and my hunts and the splendid little railroad to run 
 along, and the prospective tunnel and the dungeon and that 
 American engineer! And they tell me I had to go to 
 Paris to learn it, your Excellency that somewhere hi the 
 kingdom there is oil!" 
 
 Here Karmen Mara folded her arms across her breast and 
 the Prime Minister disobeyed her and rose. "What do 
 you know about oil, your Majesty?" 
 
 "I burn it at midnight." 
 
 He placed a chair for her and she sat beside him, inclined 
 to talk, keeping him, although she knew that he lunched 
 early and the hour was crawling near his time. It was one 
 of her caprices to detain this Prime Minister here at her 
 own pleasure until she obtained from him what she wanted. 
 
 "You will miss those dogs horribly that's one of your 
 mad impulses. What can they possibly mean to this 
 stranger?" Prince Karol put his pipe down on the stones 
 of the terrace, by the side of a thick leather portfolio, 
 stamped with his crest and arms a handsome, business- 
 like looking article, evidently full of papers. 
 
 "For the next few weeks Savia will be full of workmen. 
 It will be difficult for you to go on your tramps, and heaven 
 knows it's dull enough for you here I realize that! But in 
 December we will have the Bukarest players come and some 
 first-rate cinema films from London and Paris."
 
 198 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 An expression of pleasure crossed her charming face. 
 "How awfully kind of you, uncle Karol!" 
 
 "I realize how stupid it is for a young and good looking 
 woman like yourself in the capital." 
 
 The girl laughed. "I'm not the only lonely pebble on the 
 beach! There's your railroad builder, your tunnel borer I 
 Is he young and good looking, too?" 
 
 "I am just come from him, by the way." Karol glanced 
 down at his hat and stick and gloves. "He looks like all 
 healthy, well-set-up men clean and solid; and I dare say 
 he is rabidly lonely." 
 
 Karmen Mara threw up her chin and laughed out loud. 
 As she did so, her little round cap fell off on the terrace 
 floor. Bela instantly put a paw over it and held it between 
 her paws, guarding it, and the Queen's head like this was 
 bare to the sunlight and the morning breeze, which rustled, 
 as though they were bits of crimson paper, the leaves of the 
 scarlet Virginia creeper covering the rails and the stone of 
 the balcony. 
 
 "You will have to import people with the material for 
 the railroad," said the Queen. "Whom, in heaven's name, 
 will you ask this American to meet? The fat wife of the 
 Minister of the Interior? the one who asked me to 
 bring her her new set of false teeth from Paris (and I 
 brought them, by the way ugh! ) Or some of those overfed 
 Savian beauties the ones who order their dresses from 
 the Bon Marche by catalogue?" 
 
 The Prime Minister took his red portfolio from the bal- 
 cony rail. "I've got his contracts here, by the way. His 
 papers are all en regie, signed and sealed, and when
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 199 
 
 you've affixed your signature, they will be ready for 
 delivery." 
 
 Queen Karmen Mara held out her hand. "Let me see 
 how this American signs his name," she said, "his demo- 
 cratic name." She looked at the signature. "Well, it's 
 honest, intelligible. I don't think he'll walk off with the 
 tower on his back, as the women carry the straw and the 
 wheat. What's this?" 
 
 "Oh!" said the Prime Minister, trying to take the paper 
 from her hand. "That's not in the lot!" 
 
 Karmen Mara gave him one swift glance, retained the 
 paper and read it through. 
 
 "Oh, how abominable!" she said, in a low voice. Her eyes, 
 which could be as grave as they were humorous, fixed in 
 seriousness upon her minister. "You made that man sign 
 this disreputable paper?" 
 
 But the Prince only sat down a little deeper in his 
 chair and crossed his legs, looking at his light shoe and its 
 white spat with approval. The Queen had brought these 
 gaiters with the false teeth and other commissions from Lon- 
 don, and they were to his taste, for he was a great dandy. 
 
 "As I have told you before," he said impressively, "he 
 is under surveillance and will be for the present." 
 
 The Queen methodically tore to bits the sheet of paper 
 which Crossdale had signed that morning and let the 
 pieces fall on the floor, and Bela and Tristan sniffed at 
 them. 
 
 "Middle Ages, indeed! You've gone back to them!" 
 
 And she changed as an inland sea changes under the 
 wind. Karmen Mara became the woman and the capricious,
 
 200 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 humorous girl vanished. She sat up straight in her chair 
 with a hand on each arm. 
 
 "Your Excellency, I read over the documents you've 
 given me to sign." 
 
 "Yes," said the Prime Minister coolly, "the Privy Council 
 meets at four this afternoon and I must file these documents 
 and give them to the Minister of the Interior." 
 
 The Queen clapped her hands twice, and a servant came 
 immediately, as though he revolved out of the door of a 
 cuckoo clock. "Fetch me all the writing things on my table 
 in my study, as well as the portfolio." 
 
 The man was gone but a second or two, during which time, 
 however, neither the Queen nor the Prime Minister uttered 
 a word. Prince Karol lit a cigarette and the Queen sat 
 immovable with a hand on either arm of her chair, musing. 
 
 The man returned and laid out upon the table, which 
 had been cleared of the Queen's breakfast things, writing 
 materials and a sheaf of documents. Then the Queen went 
 over to the table, and the Prime Minister watched her 
 keenly, used to her caprices also imagining, not without 
 reason, that she was in his hands and he could make of her 
 what he willed. 
 
 Karmen Mara tapped the documents. "I've signed those 
 they are of minor importance. But this paper," and she 
 held up the withdrawal of the lands of the peasants from 
 their present owners and their return to the Crown, "is a 
 feudal disgrace." 
 
 The Prime Minister took possession of it and she did not 
 make any demur. "I'm sorry," he said sternly, "that you 
 feel like this. It is drafted by the Parliament and by myself."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 201 
 
 "I dare say!" said the Queen bitterly. "It's the drawing 
 in the meshes of your absolute monarchy, Prince Karol. I 
 jrefuse to sign that paper." 
 
 The Prime Minister placed the document in his red port- 
 tolio. 
 
 "And this poor American engineer he must be free to 
 write his love letters without your reading them." She tried to 
 laugh, to collect herself, and Prince Karol put out his hand. 
 
 "Good-bye, my dear," he said. "I must go to luncheon. 
 It will be ruined and I shall be in an impossible humor at 
 the Council. Since you're so interested in Mr. Crossdale's 
 correspondence I gave him all his letters in their virgin 
 state, just as they came from his vulgar republic." 
 
 "Were they love letters?" asked the Queen. 
 
 "I dare say," answered Prince Karol. "A handsome young 
 man would have love letters and write them." 
 
 "Decidedly," she agreed, and added: "And write them 
 well!" 
 
 "I have given him Lieutenant Korvan for his adjutant." 
 
 "Splendid!" exclaimed the Queen. "Stanislas will never 
 set the Danube on fire, but he is a good friend and Mariska 
 will be delighted. She is so awfully keen for him to get on, 
 and she hates the army. You know, uncle Karol, we shall 
 have to let those young people get married." 
 
 "I must go," said the Prime Minister. "I shall be late 
 for luncheon." 
 
 She gave him her hand in signal of return to better under- 
 standing. His power over her was great. 
 
 "Come to dinner with me after the Council, uncle Karol, 
 won't you? I shall miss the dogs."
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 CROSSDALE IS ROYALLY COMMANDED TO DRINK A CUP OF TEA 
 
 By November the staff of the Royal State Railway was 
 definitely installed in Cye, Crossdale camping in a peasant 
 hut, which Korvan had found for them near the town, and 
 they would not see the other side of Mount Nepta before the 
 spring. Baumgarten's equipment had been completely mod- 
 ernized, and by the use of up-to-date drills and the latest 
 models in electrical material they were expediting the mining 
 of Nepta and the expulsion of the waste material steadily. 
 They looked forward with fair assurance to seeing daylight 
 through the rock in May. 
 
 Crossdale had in all two hundred and fifty laborers, work- 
 ing in squads between Savia and Cye, and already the one- 
 track road was laid from Cye to Roda. The war dump had 
 been brought in from Roumania to Cye by trail and over the 
 rails. Crossdale's and Korvan's quarters were primitive 
 a cubby-hole of a kitchen, a bedroom shared by them, and a 
 general room in which they ate and worked by the light of 
 a swinging oil lamp, warming themselves in chill evenings by 
 a peat fire on the floor, the chimney open to the sky. 
 
 Of Refan Ugo the American had heard nothing since he 
 had parted from him in the tower. 
 
 Korvan was away much of the time and explained his 
 absences by an excuse of military duty. But Crossdale asked
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 203 
 
 no questions and expected no confidences. He was sure that 
 there was a woman in Korvan's life, but whom she was he 
 had no idea. 
 
 Jefferson Robinson had grown frankly disgruntled and 
 entirely out of sympathy with his Oriental life: "Scuse me, 
 Boss ah sure don' wan' to put no* spoke in de wheel ob 
 cibilLzation, but dis hyar job is gettin' to be one too many 
 fo' me! B'lieve me, Mister Crossdale, ah'm goin' to git in 
 line fo' a return ticket." 
 
 Crossdale had been troubled about the man for some time 
 here in Cye. His face was cast in the most profound 
 melancholy. 
 
 "Ah don' know what ah'm sickenin' fo'. Sometimes ah 
 t'ink it's fo' home food." 
 
 Crossdale understood and sympathized. "People of your 
 race don't usually sicken for work, Jeff, but that's the 
 matter! I'll give you fifty men to handle and teach you 
 your job, and then when you've got a few minutes off you 
 can go to see the cinema in Roda." 
 
 The man's face brightened. "Fine, Boss! Yo' sure am 
 talkin.' Ah neffer use' to serbe de directors on dere private 
 cars but ah us' ter feel dere wus sompin' in dat line comin' 
 ma way. Ah ain' been on fast trains twenty-five years to 
 end up hyar wid no transportation but a sled in summer 
 time an' a mule." 
 
 "Look at him, Korvan!" Crossdale said to his companion, 
 a fortnight later. "He's the real nigger nothing in the world 
 they care for so much as display!" 
 
 Crossdale had placed Jeff on the line beyond Roda. The 
 negro had rigged himself up in a cast-off suit of his master's,
 
 204 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 the trousers stuffed into a pair of high Karmanian boots. 
 It had been easy in that land of color to possess himself of a 
 red shirt, and he wore one, with one of Crossdale's old soft 
 felt hats. He was smoking one of the long black Kar- 
 manian cigars; he had on a pair of Crossdale's evening 
 gloves, white kid, rollefl down at the wrist; he carried a 
 small baton. 
 
 "God knows what language he talks to them in, Cross- 
 dale, but he's well on his job!" 
 
 Stephen wrote to Storm: 
 
 "All serene on the old Danube. Working in from the Cye 
 side. Things are in fairly good shape. If all goes well I 
 ought to be able to establish my communications between 
 Cye and Savia in May. I dare say I'll be kept here pretty 
 well through May. I can't slip you any tip about the oil 
 yet, old man, although I'm getting ready to look into the 
 matter. 
 
 "Why don't you come out to the woods yourself and look 
 things over with me? The hunting's great. I've gotten 
 boar and stag among other things. There'll be bears later. 
 
 "To get back to the oil wells, the Queen dissolved the 
 Parliament and herself in tears, but when Parliament opens 
 they are sure to get their way in the matter, and I'd like to 
 get busy before that time." 
 
 One Sunday Korvan had taken him over to the next vil- 
 lage to the wine festival, and Crossdale had watched with 
 enthusiasm the vineyard dance, until the ravishing savage 
 music, the melody and the charm had been too much for 
 him, and he had suddenly sprung up and before the Kar-
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 205 
 
 manian knew what he was doing, he had cut in, dancing 
 with verve and spirit, extricating himself, however, before 
 the belle of the afternoon had thrown herself in his arms. 
 
 "That's a great little dance," he said to Korvan, as he 
 came out, breathless and delighted. "The 'bunny hug' and 
 'the shimmy shake' haven't got a thing on it." 
 
 In his pocket, in his leather case, he kept the printed 
 letter he had found on the window sill of the cottage. He 
 read it many times. "Sometime in November " and 
 when the month came he began to wonder. 
 
 One day at noon, during an inexplicable absence of Kor- 
 van's, he heard the bells of Cye begin to ring in the most 
 peculiar fashion. Bells hang from every conceivable place 
 from which a bell might hang in Cye indeed, throughout 
 Karmania. They seem to collect them, to have a passion 
 for them. They hang them, ring them, burst forth on all 
 possible occasions, with surprising volubility and great musi- 
 cal quality. The American loved them, but he did not under- 
 stand them all. He found out that they were ringing for 
 weddings when he thought they were summoning the fire 
 brigade or what might go for a fire brigade and he had 
 never been able to class the funerals properly. He did not 
 know whether weddings were more solemn occasions in Kar- 
 mania than deaths, but he had not yet got the bell business 
 listed. 
 
 On this day the church bell rang in a dancing Dervish 
 fashion madly, wildly dashing, so Crossdale thought, its 
 very head and lips against the stones of the little belfry. 
 Then the lighter toned bell on the top of the Cye inn the 
 Ritz-Carlton dinner bell, as Korvan and he called it took
 
 206 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 the excitement up, and tolled in a wonderfully staid fashion. 
 Then the other bells, wherever they might be from the 
 donkeys' necks to the horses' collars all chorused in, and 
 the village was vocal. There were no other bells to hear, 
 because the nearest town was Roda and not audible. But in 
 the far distance Pratz-Zenoe, lost and mysterious to Cross- 
 dale, had taken it up. 
 
 He did not have to send for Serga to ask him what the 
 excitement was, for the servant came running, making the 
 most peculiar noise in his throat, a sort of bleat, a sort of 
 cry. He threw himself down on his knees before Crossdale 
 and rocked to and fro, with his hands covering his face. 
 
 "Now," thought the American, looking down at him, 
 "what has broken loose? This is the revolution, sure thing!" 
 And he wouldn't have been surprised to see the place sur- 
 rounded by Zito and his fifty good men and true. But Serga 
 lifted his face and wailed forth, in a tone a thousand fold 
 more funereal than the peals of the bells: 
 
 "Los Rest Los Res!" 
 
 "Ah!" ejaculated Crossdale, with extreme solemnity in his 
 voice. "That's the dope, is it? The poor old boy has passed 
 his checks in at last!" 
 
 That was the way in which Crossdale learned that King 
 Peter had gone to his last reward or punishment, what- 
 ever it might chance to be and according to a very old 
 Karmanian law, in default of other heirs the Queen was 
 the sole ruler of the State. 
 
 He had pinned a little calendar up on the wall of their hut 
 and as November came in and advanced he wondered each 
 day, tearing off the slips: "Will it be tomorrow?" About a
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 207 
 
 fortnight later he and Korvan were standing at the entrance 
 to the tunnel, watching the passing of the mule carts loaded 
 with tunnel refuse, driven by Karmanians in native dress, 
 standing bare legs apart, red cap in hand, driving the mules 
 with long leather-thonged whips. Suddenly the American 
 looked up and saw a man coming toward them from the 
 south: "Gad!" he said. "If that isn't old Beelzebub!" 
 
 Korvan laughed. "Is that what you call Ugo? Far too 
 good for him he's only a fool." 
 
 "Sorry," Crossdale started forward to meet the spy. 
 "He'll be harder to deal with. You can corrupt a devil, but 
 deliver me from a stupid man." 
 
 To Korvan he spoke no word of politics, and he had 
 never mentioned the name of Refan Ugo. When the latter 
 rode up, he threw himself off his horse, saluted stiffly. The 
 three men exchanged greetings. Ugo took a letter from his 
 pocket, sealed with myrtle-green seals, and handed it to 
 Lieutenant Korvan. He threw his horse's reins over its back 
 and the animal immediately stretched himself out and began 
 to nose the sandy ground. 
 
 "I have ridden over from Pratz-Zenoe," said Ugo. As he 
 gave Korvan the letter he touched his forehead with his 
 hand and said softly: "Heljen!" and Crossdale knew that 
 the letter was from the Queen. 
 
 Ugo was thinner and paler, but he met Crossdale's look 
 with steadiness. The American slapped him on the back. 
 "Well, Borgia! What's the latest prescription for poisons 
 or torture for suspects? Willie, we have missed you. I've 
 had a light in the window for you, Ugo, for the last six 
 weeks."
 
 208 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 But even to the engineer, who was suspicious of every- 
 thing about him, Ugo seemed to have attained a new 
 dignity. "Mr. Crossdale, I'm a royal messenger, but I'd 
 have come in any case because I want to have a little talk 
 with you." 
 
 "Sure," said Crossdale. "I didn't know till I saw you 
 coming across the plains, Ugo, how much I wanted to see 
 you. How is His Excellency, Prince Karol?" 
 
 "I haven't seen his Excellency he arrived at Pratz- 
 Zenoe after I had left. When can you see me?" 
 
 "Why," said the engineer easily, "any time, at the Ritz- 
 Carlton. Perhaps you don't know that rendezvous, Ugo? 
 There!" he said pointing. "About a hundred yards from 
 the Moulin Rouge. That's what Lieutenant Korvan and I 
 call the Cye hotel. That's our shebang over there, where 
 the smoke's coming out of the chimney. Come in tomorrow 
 at six." 
 
 Ugo smiled slightly. "Why, you may not be back, Mr. 
 Crossdale." 
 
 The American wrinkled his eyebrows. "There!" he 
 exclaimed, "now you're off, Ugo! True to life! Not back 
 by six? What do you mean?" 
 
 Ugo put out his hand and drew his horse back from the 
 rails. "The Queen," he said, "is coming to Cye to the hunt- 
 ing lodge, for a few days." 
 
 Here Korvan, who had finished his letter, put it in its 
 envelope and thrust the envelope in the pocket of his coat. 
 He linked his arm in Crossdale's and turned him away from 
 Ugo, walking slowly toward the village. "Her Majesty is 
 coming here."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 209 
 
 Crossdale lifted his eyebrows. "To the tunnel or the Ritz- 
 Carlton?" 
 
 "To her own lodge. She wishes to come to Cye and see 
 the operations of the Royal State Railway." 
 
 Here, as he spoke, one of the laborers came running, 
 carrying in his hand the red flag and crying in Karmanian 
 to stand back, to stand back. He was followed by hurrying 
 laborers, some of them naked to the waist, and they scattered 
 in different directions. 
 
 Crossdale and Korvan and Refan Ugo stood together, 
 watching for the low, soft thunderous explosion which fol- 
 lowed shortly, seeming to tear apart the very entrails of 
 Mount Nepta, and out of the tunnel's mouth billows of 
 smoke rolled, white as snow, afterwards turning to pale 
 ashen yellow. Crossdale went over to the foreman of the 
 squad of workmen and remained for some time, talking and 
 taking notes. Korvan followed slowly. 
 
 "It is a bit complicated," Korvan said, after a few 
 moments. "Her Majesty will be here tomorrow at four." 
 
 "We'll blow up the tenth section for her," said Crossdale 
 indifferently. "I've been waiting for royalty to do it. I'm 
 going to the office now come along, Korvan." 
 
 But Korvan put his hand on the other's arm. "The Queen 
 wants her visit to be incognito. It's one of her caprices. 
 She says you are to go over to the hunting lodge at four 
 and have tea there, and meanwhile I am to show her every- 
 thing there is to see." 
 
 Crossdale gave his full attention to his friend. "Gosh, 
 Korvan," he said shortly, "what does she think I am? An 
 English old maid who can't miss her tea? Tea at five
 
 210 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 o'clock, according to her royal pleasure!" he laughed. "Well, 
 111 be damned!" 
 
 The other man was visibly embarrassed. "It's a whim 
 of Karmen Mara's, but I'm afraid you'll have to go. It's a 
 royal command." 
 
 The American put his hand inside his waistcoat to find 
 a cigarette, and he touched his little leather case. And then 
 it rushed over him: Tea at the lodge at five o'clock! This 
 was November! "Sometime in November!" And his expres- 
 sion changed so suddenly that he was afraid to let his com- 
 panion see the alteration. 
 
 As he lit his cigarette he capitulated weakly: "All right 
 if it's a royal command, I suppose it will have to be 
 obeyed."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 AT THE QUEEN'S LODGE "SOMETIME IN NOVEMBER" 
 
 Crossdale rode over from Cye, and it was past four when 
 he stopped his horse before the Lodge. Lights glowed behind 
 the red curtains. It gave him a strange feeling to realize that 
 he was expected. 
 
 "Hello, Rip- Van- Winkle !" he said to the gray beard who 
 opened the door. "What are the latest bulletins of battle, 
 murder and sudden death? The God of the Harvests send 
 you a mild winter!" which was the customary greeting to 
 servants who carry wood for fires in Karmania. 
 
 The November dusk filled the long living room, lit by the 
 fire only. The ancient took Crossdale's hat and gloves and 
 the American went over to the fireplace, in front of which 
 the table was spread for tea, with hissing samovar, green 
 cups and saucers, plates of bread, butter and honey, and a 
 bowl of yellow roses bright as butter amongst their green 
 leaves. 
 
 Crossdale thought the feast suggestive. It seemed con- 
 trived on purpose that he should remember the cottage on 
 the Savia side of the mountain and the dairy fare. 
 
 He was glowing with exercise, full of expectation. It was 
 November. "Sometime in November." This was Cye; 
 this was the Queen's lodge.
 
 212 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 He started like a boy when the door opened to let in 
 Griffen, the oldest of the three hounds, who came bounding 
 to Crossdale, and the two were standing before the fire when 
 the door opened a second time to let in a lady. Back of her 
 a servant carried two lighted candelabra. 
 
 Crossdale heard her say: "So sorry to have kept you 
 waiting," and she came in, charmingly, with great friend- 
 liness, and holding out her hand as though they were old 
 friends. 
 
 "I didn't mind waiting in the least I had a friend to 
 keep me company." His hand was on the dog's head. She 
 sat before the tea table and the light of the fire fell redly 
 over her, as the noon sun had shone on her in the forest hut. 
 She began to make the tea. She wore a short, thick walking 
 skirt, brown like the leaves, and a mannish little silk shirt 
 with a smart cravat and mannish cuff links; but around her 
 neck fell a long chain of small pearls caught in at the belt 
 of her dress. Otherwise she was severe, boyish. All over her 
 head grew the close curling hair, crisp and dark. 
 
 "The work on the road is going splendidly, we hear, isn't 
 it, Mr. Crossdale?. I want to see the mining of a section 
 from start to finish. I will come some day," she said with 
 spirit, "surely." And then, as though she envied her sister, 
 she continued: "I wonder what Korvan is showing the 
 Queen?" 
 
 "Nothing much," said the engineer indifferently. "Waste 
 cars hundreds of them a day dragging out the very heart 
 of poor old Nepta! The natives work like ants." 
 
 He took his place by the fire, standing near her with his 
 hands behind his back, looking down. He felt deliciously at
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 213 
 
 ease and thought how jolly it would be to have tea with her, 
 breakfast, lunch and dinner three hundred and sixty-five 
 days out of the year! 
 
 As she sat in the green-covered chair, before the shining 
 table, with its beautiful things, the light of the fire warm 
 on her white blouse, her hands and hair and cheek, he said: 
 "I waited for the Queen's visit to the railroad with great 
 calm. Royalty means nothing to Americans! You should 
 see our democratic country, from east to west, with every- 
 body equal. The cook when you get her comes in her 
 own machine to do her work, and she feels herself such a 
 little queen. The spirit of equality runs through the 
 country." 
 
 "It is rather entertaining," she returned. "But for 
 hundreds of years we have been royalties, we are part of 
 this system." 
 
 Crossdale said in a matter-of-fact voice: "But you ought 
 not to be a monarchist! You're a real woman, too real to 
 bother with all this picture-book sort of thing!" She stared 
 at him in frankest astonishment, pushed her chair back and 
 made a little exclamation at his daring. 
 
 "You come from the people yourself, don't you, Princess?" 
 She did not reply to this directly, as though she thought it 
 were taking a great liberty. But she said: "John Sarvanarof 
 thought as you do," and was silent, turning her head from 
 him, looking into the fire, for a few seconds. 
 
 He could enjoy to the full the picture she made vivid, 
 adorable, full of life and color, so near to him and so far 
 removed! He was thinking to himself: "Oh, it can't be pos- 
 sible that I have only seen her twice, that this is the second
 
 214 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 time!" But he had back of him no traditions that should 
 make him tremble before caste and high state. 
 
 "I am going to tell you something," he said, "that will 
 amuse you very much indeed. Do you remember, when you 
 were in England a school girl, I should say having your 
 photograph taken in Dover Street?" 
 
 She turned slowly round to him. "Why do you ask me 
 that?" 
 
 "Because it's awfully curious, isn't it? but I suppose 
 you had a dozen or so taken, as one does, and out of that 
 dozen a copy went over to the United States, and was put in 
 a photographer's window in Boston, with a lot of other 
 foreign swells." 
 
 She was listening to him, hanging on his words. Nothing 
 so strange and so personal had ever happened to her. Of 
 all the photographs which had been taken of her for years, 
 none of them were on exhibition in the kingdom. 
 
 "One day I was going along in Boston and I saw that pic- 
 ture in the window, and I went in and bought it." 
 
 "You did? You bought it?" 
 
 Crossdale nodded. "I took it back with me to my rooms 
 in the University. I put it up on my chimney piece, and 
 it has stayed with me ever since. I have got it now, out on 
 my ranch, in an old portfolio. It was a picture of you that 
 I know. But when I bought it I did not know there was 
 such a person in the world as the Princess Mariska." 
 
 Here she put both hands over her face and shook with 
 laughter. He heard her exclaim: "Princess Mariska! Oh, 
 it's really too awfully funny! It's fortunate that you haven't 
 that picture in Karmania, because all pictures of the royal
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 215 
 
 family are the private property of the court." Griffen was 
 between them on the rug, his long gray body out- 
 stretched. 
 
 "You must not tell the Queen what a rank democrat I 
 am," he said, "or she might think that I was a suspicious 
 character. I am really nothing but a tunnel builder and a 
 road maker, and I have nothing to do with the politics of 
 any country." 
 
 "It is always well to know what one's guests think, and 
 you have been wonderfully frank." 
 
 She moved away from the tea table. He could not take 
 his eyes from her. Her brown skirt was very short above 
 her ankles, in their brown stockings and shoes; it was the 
 dress of a woman used to out-of-door sports and life, and 
 she walked with a freedom, with a subtleness, with a lightness 
 that was a pleasure to observe. Griffen followed her and 
 she wound her hand in his collar, as she had wound it in the 
 chain around her neck. 
 
 Again there came to him the same feeling that he had had 
 up on the mountain on the Savian side. When he knew 
 that he must leave her, when he should go out of here, there 
 would be nothing left but a problematic tune when he might 
 see her again. 
 
 "As I passed through here in September, this note was 
 given me the first night I spent in Las Restaurus. I have 
 carried it round with me ever since, and it's taken nearly 
 three months to find a means to pass it on. Now, will you 
 see that Her Majesty gets this letter?" and he handed her 
 the letter enclosed to the Queen in his communication from
 
 216 THE QUEEN OF K ARMANI A 
 
 John Sarvanarof, brought him by the native Creta in the 
 heart of the night. 
 
 She took it, turned it over, looking at the seal with an 
 expression of surprise. 
 
 "Mr. Crossdale this is extraordinary I don't know if 
 I should take it like this " 
 
 "Oh, yes, you do," he said quietly. "I don't believe you 
 are under the thumb of the Prime Minister. I couldn't 
 believe it of you you've got too much spirit; you're too 
 much of a sport, too much of a woman. There's no dyna- 
 mite in it," with a little smile and dropping his voice. "I 
 dare say it's a love letter." And he saw her blush royally 
 then. 
 
 Across her mobile face astonishment, interest and amuse- 
 ment passed. Crossdale was so naive and so boyish, so per- 
 fectly frank, so absolutely full of good faith, so devoid of 
 convention and formality. He was charming her. She 
 slipped the letter in the pocket of her brown woolen skirt 
 and buttoned the button over it. And Crossdale returned 
 to his own affairs. 
 
 "I found the note you left on the sill of the little doll's 
 house. That's why I came here today, not to obey a royal 
 command in the least just to see you." Her face broke 
 into smiles, and she bit her lip again as he had seen her 
 do when she was cutting the bread in the dairy. 
 
 "You did go back then?" 
 
 "Of course next day and I was never so disappointed 
 in all my life as when I found the blinds drawn and the 
 place deserted." 
 
 She liked the way he stood. He hardly moved. There
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 217 
 
 was a strength and repose about his figure; he was as well 
 set-up as a healthy, vigorous man should be. She liked the 
 set of his clothes, the way he wore them; his broad shoulders 
 and deep chest and his sleek, dark head. Best of all she liked 
 the intent and earnest expression of his face, his simplicity, 
 reality. 
 
 She walked toward the deep cedar door, without which was 
 the darkening autumn night. Outside he could hear his horse. 
 Unable to keep the words back that threatened to make him 
 indiscreet and perhaps spoil his chances, he asked: 
 
 "Why did you ask me to come here today?" 
 
 She stopped, the dog by her side. "I wanted some one 
 to tell me about the road, too." 
 
 "Why did you leave that note on the window ledge?" 
 
 She did not seem in the least afraid to meet his eyes with 
 her own, and all around the corners of them, close to her 
 long black lashes, were little crinkles of amusement. "Just as 
 you put crumbs, to see if they will be gone in the morning." 
 
 "You wanted me to find the path again; you wanted me 
 to return. Why?" 
 
 She raised her hand. "Listen!" And she came a little 
 toward him, Griffen following her. "The Queen's minstrels 
 listen!" 
 
 A little group of Karmanian singers had come up on the 
 porch and they began to tune their crude instruments. 
 
 "They have come to sing to the Queen some of her songs." 
 
 She drew back, Griffen beside her, away from the door. 
 Crossdale could see the grouping of the musicians in their 
 native dress on the porch. They began to sing the song he 
 knew so well:
 
 218 THE QUEEN OF K ARMANI A 
 
 "What shall be given 
 
 To him who comes riding 
 
 Over the mountains and through the forests 
 
 To our hill city?" 
 
 They stood together like this in the candlelight and fire- 
 light while the musicians sang. Then she stirred. Cross- 
 dale put out his hand. "Good-bye. Good-night." The musi- 
 cians tuned and scraped and began the second song of the 
 series of love songs that had made Karmen Mara famous. 
 
 When she spoke again her voice was quite matter-of-fact. 
 "I will send you a message tomorrow by Refan Ugo, to ask 
 you when I can come and see the operations." 
 
 "By that old chameleon?" 
 
 She seemed amused. "That describes him exactly. He 
 does change, but now he wears the green of the Queen's 
 servants." 
 
 As she remained standing, waiting for him to go, he had 
 nothing to do but to follow her suggestion, because, curi- 
 ously, there seemed to fall between them, as there had before, 
 a sudden coldness, a sense of distance. He felt as far from 
 her in that moment as he had felt near a little while before, 
 and from the opposite side of the room, without being 
 announced, the footman who had entered with the candela- 
 bra, began to remove the tea things. 
 
 The American bowed, and without attempting to touch 
 her hand again, went out, past the group of native musi- 
 cians.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 A WOMAN IN LOVE FEARS DANGER FOR HER LOVER, 
 
 WHEREAS HIS GREATEST DANGER IS HERSELF 
 
 (KARMANIAN PROVERB) 
 
 The Queen went hunting nearly every day with her suite 
 and in those forests which he had now no time to explore 
 Crossdale heard the sound of the horn and the cry of the 
 hounds. The charm of the visit to the lodge thrilled him 
 and there was about his feeling for her an unrest and yet 
 a great content. He had a belief in things; he believed that 
 what was for him was coming his way and nothing on earth 
 could stop it. Walking home he slipped back out of sight 
 to watch, for he heard the hounds in full cry magic sound 
 that no sportsman can hear indifferently. 
 
 The Queen's hunt broke from the edge of the woods, took 
 the field between the high road of Cye and the entrance of 
 the forest in the direction of the lodge. Over peasant lands 
 and brown fields he saw them rush by him dogs, horses, 
 the men in regulation pink coats, white trousers, high boots, 
 conventional and out of keeping with barbaric Karmania. 
 After them, on a perfect hunter, which looked to be English, 
 he saw not the Queen, but the woman of the yellow rose, and 
 alone. He waited to see the Queen, but saw no one but this 
 charming woman, who flashed by in perfect form and took 
 the ditch like a bird across the first meadow. She dis- 
 appeared in the mist.
 
 220 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 "She's only the sister of the Queen," he thought to him- 
 self, with a certain irritation, "and herself from simple 
 people. Why don't I write a letter and ask her to let me 
 see her? Why shouldn't I?" 
 
 He walked slowly home, thinking of her, and was getting 
 to work when he heard the sound of voices outside and the 
 baying of dogs, a blast from the horn, and some one rapped 
 sharply on the door as though with the butt of a whip. 
 
 He opened the door and she stood there, in scarlet coat, 
 stiff collar, little low hat, riding breeches and high boots, 
 gloves and whip in her hands. Back of her were huntsmen 
 and dogs, but they fell behind as she entered the hut and 
 Crossdale shut the door. 
 
 She was very grave. Indeed, there had always been two 
 atmospheres between them: one of comradeship and sweet- 
 ness, of remarkable understanding, the atmosphere between 
 two mates; then a wall, an immeasurable distance, as though 
 he were a North Pole man and she a South Pole woman, with 
 the equator and continents between. 
 
 "Did the fox run in here, Mr. Crossdale?" 
 
 Crossdale caught his breath and was equal to the situa- 
 tion. 
 
 "If you mean Captain Ugo, Princess, yes. A fortnight 
 ago." And then he grew all warm and exultant. The joxl 
 She had wanted to come and see him she was keeping her 
 promise this was her excuse. Before the unlit peat fire 
 was a peasant chair, garnished with bright-colored calico, 
 and a low black bench. 
 
 "This is my drawing room and my state apartment. Will 
 you have the box or the chair?"
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 221 
 
 She smiled, yet hardly could he call it a smile. She was 
 looking at him profoundly, out of the grayest of gray eyes, 
 flecked with brown. She kept her gloves and whip and held 
 them in her strong, capable, ringless hands. As she took 
 the chair and Crossdale perched on the box, he said: 
 
 "I won't really give you the choice between the box and 
 the chair because the chair is uncertain. It is in Korvan's 
 place he is lighter weight than I am." 
 
 "Oh!" she exclaimed and started to rise, as though she 
 did not care at all to find herself suddenly on the stone floor. 
 
 "It will hold you" said Crossdale. "You're a feather- 
 weight for a tall woman." 
 
 "I'm the Queen's messenger," she said. 
 
 The American bowed. And he saw that she was not to 
 him as she had been, although she was charming. "HeljenI" 
 he murmured softly, and she inclined her head. 
 
 "You gave me a letter for the Queen." 
 
 "One that had been entrusted to me." 
 
 "We find it singular that a stranger a guest " 
 
 Crossdale interrupted. "I couldn't call myself a guest in 
 this kingdom!" 
 
 "You have not been given true hospitality in the King- 
 dom?" 
 
 "Well, I have been watched like a miserable suspect ever 
 since I entered, to tell the truth, and until I beat up the 
 chap who had been set upon me to dog my steps, until I had 
 thrashed him within an inch of his life, I don't think I stood 
 a chance." 
 
 He saw her great surprise; she flushed, and he continued: 
 ^Refan Ugo is not likely to boast about his beating."
 
 222 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 "Refan Ugo? I think you misjudge him, Mr. Crossdale. 
 Honestly, I don't believe you have a truer friend in the king- 
 dom, from what I have heard the Prime Minister say to the 
 Queen." But then she tossed her head back in a way she 
 had, as though to shake away something she did not care to 
 discuss: "To return to the letter " 
 
 "Yes." He accepted to go back to that. 
 
 She looked a little troubled, finding it hard to put her 
 questions. Then she asked abruptly: "Do you know what 
 that letter contained?" looking him fully in the eyes. 
 
 "I have not the slightest idea." 
 
 It was always a hard thing for him when he was with her 
 to think of her in any way but as the woman with whom he 
 had fallen in love and whom he wanted to court and to win. 
 Everything else seemed such an awful waste of time between 
 them, when time was short and fate was cruel. What a 
 wonder she was! What a chin! What a mould of the lips! 
 What flexible strong hands! How full of character and 
 race she was! 
 
 It amused him to see that she was studying him, too, in 
 her woman's way, trying to read him. She wound her 
 gloves round and round in a tight chamois ball, and sitting 
 up very straight on the box, she began to put him through 
 a sort of catechism. "Do you know, I believe that I will 
 tell you the substance of that letter?" 
 
 "Well," said Crossdale, "that is for you to decide. I 
 don't know whether you had better do so or not. What can 
 I say? After all, what can it possibly have to do with me 
 and my work in Karmania?" 
 
 She did not hear a word he said. She seemed to be mus-
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 223 
 
 ing. "It is colossal!" she exclaimed. "Extraordinary! And 
 the man who wrote it deserves all that will come to him 
 later some day he will meet his nemesis. He will surely be 
 murdered by some one it is in his palm, you know years 
 ago it was foretold him here in the kingdom that he would 
 meet with a violent death." 
 
 Crossdale said: "He is a striking figure there is no doubt 
 about that; very dramatic, and I dare say tragic, too. 
 Ambitious people who sacrifice everything to their ends 
 usually end up in a tragic fashion, don't you think?" 
 
 She probably heard him, as she was tremendously inter- 
 ested in him altogether, but she gave no sign, and with her 
 little whip drew on the tiles of the rough peasant hearth 
 imaginary lines. Crossdale thought: "If every one of those 
 lines were the obstacles between us, Princess, they would not 
 be half enough! How great they are! Shall I ever be able 
 to overcome them?" 
 
 "In writing to Her Majesty he says in sum a great deal 
 that he used to say to her when he was in office in Kar- 
 mania. He used then to spend hours trying to win her over 
 to his ideas of democracy ; he asked her then to abdicate, to 
 proclaim the kingdom a republic." She raised her eyes to 
 Crossdale's. 
 
 But the Kingdom of Karmania its politics, its rebel- 
 lions, its seditions were insignificant in comparison with 
 the fact that there she sat, desirable and dear, alone with 
 him in this little room, and that he loved her. This was so 
 much more important that what she saw in his face made 
 her color and look away, down at the hearthstone, where 
 nothing had transfixed her imaginary lines.
 
 224 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 "He cries democracy to the skies," she went on. "He 
 has written out a long speech for freedom." She shrugged. 
 "Again he asks the Queen to give up her kingdom, to pro- 
 claim him president." 
 
 Here Crossdale exclaimed: "I never heard such sublime 
 arrogance! Why, he's quite superb, isn't he?" 
 
 "The most extraordinary has yet to come," said Cross- 
 dale's visitor. "He says that she must marry him and rule 
 the republic with her husband." Now she looked at him 
 again, but Crossdale took this very peacefully. Indeed, 
 with whom the Queen of Karmania ruled was little to him. 
 
 "Ambitious to the last degree, isn't he? When I first 
 came here I was told by many people what a great lover 
 John Sarvanarof was, and that he had loved the Queen 
 for years. It can't be any news to you, of course all 
 court gossip must be known to you." But she sat up 
 sharply. Evidently he had startled her. 
 
 "On the contrary," she said, "I did not know that at 
 least, I mean I had no idea it was such common talk. We 
 are kept hideously protected at the court. So that is what 
 they say, do they?" Her tone was cold, disdainful, her face 
 pale as she met his eyes. "Well I can tell you, Mr. Cross- 
 dale, with authority, that the Queen would rather die than 
 accept his proposition." Then she broke in upon her anger, 
 for she was angry and showed it, and said: "But there is 
 still more of this letter. He advises the Queen to make an 
 ally of you, Mr. Crossdale, to enlist you in our cause, as he 
 calls it." 
 
 He interrupted her: "It isn't possible that he should dare 
 to speak my name in that way to the Queen? Before God,
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 225 
 
 I want to tell her that I have no remote interest in Prince 
 John and his revolution! What can I say ?" 
 
 She remained some few moments looking at him quietly, 
 thoughtfully, then a charming smile broke over her face. 
 
 "You need not say anything at all. I dare say I am very 
 foolish and very easily persuaded, but I believe you." 
 
 Under her spell Crossdale said daringly: "You're too real 
 a woman, too wonderful a woman, to have any part at all in 
 this picture book life." 
 
 "Why, how do you mean?" She flushed crimson. 
 
 "You ought to be living a real existence in an up-to-date 
 country, making a man happy and bringing up sons and 
 daughters on democratic lines! If I have shocked you I am 
 sorry," he continued. "It's because you seem such a real 
 woman to me," and he laughed a little softly, "and I feel 
 such a real man." He got up and took a match off the 
 little ledge that ran around the wall and stooped down and 
 lit the peat fire. "It gets so beastly cold here in about five 
 seconds that you'll feel it." And he crouched there over 
 his fire as it formed and took, and she watched him. 
 
 "When you speak of real things," she said slowly, "you 
 think of your country, of your people." 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 "Our country and our people seem just as real to us." 
 
 He was very near her. From where he half kneeled at the 
 fire he looked up at her. 
 
 "If they are, if they do, that's all right. To me the 
 whole thing here seems like a dream, a Christmas panto- 
 mime. The only thing in it that is real is you." 
 
 She was looking at him, directly, with her great gray
 
 226 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 eyes. He had to use all his control to keep from seizing her 
 hands with the gloves and whip in them, covering them with 
 kisses, putting his head down on her knees. He rose, went 
 back to his seat, but her glance followed him. 
 
 "If the Prime Minister knew of this letter " 
 
 "He'd treat me as he did Baumgarten." 
 
 "Baumgarten committed suicide." 
 
 "So he did I forgot." His tone was unmistakable. She 
 let it pass and rose slowly. 
 
 "Oh, don't move!" he pleaded. "If you knew what 
 it is to see a woman in this room!" But she moved slowly 
 from before the hot fire, drawing her gloves through her 
 hands. 
 
 "You must be very, very careful in Karmania, Mr. Cross- 
 dale." 
 
 He laughed. "Extremely careful with dynamite, for 
 instance. If I wasn't, the Queen would have a few hundred 
 subjects less! These chaps here treat dynamite as though 
 it were loaf sugar. If you mean if you mean I must be 
 careful in the way I want to see you, the way I would like 
 to know you better and to " 
 
 "Please! Please! The country is full of enemies to the 
 crown. There is sedition at our doors." 
 
 "You might say, there are brave men fighting for their 
 ideals, Princess." 
 
 She said slowly: "If the Prime Minister should think 
 that you were one of those brave men, fighting for those 
 ideals " 
 
 She was passing close to him and he might not even touch 
 the hand that held the whip and gloves! Dear as she was,
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 227 
 
 lovely as she was, growing to him more and more adorable 
 and desirable every moment, between them there was that 
 wall, that distance. There was the equator indeed, but she 
 was the North Pole woman and -he was the South Pole man. 
 
 "You came to warn me, Princess? It was kind " 
 
 "I came to see what you knew about the letter." 
 
 "You believe that I knew nothing of its contents?" 
 
 "I believe what you tell me." 
 
 He drew in his breath with delight. She trusted him! 
 That was a great step between them. "You are too good 
 for words!" he cried warmly. "I am telling you God's 
 truth I am innocent of plot or intrigue. I never saw 
 Prince John in my life until I met him on the Danube boat." 
 
 She asked him to open the door and as he did so there 
 rushed in the gust-like mist of the November fog that rises 
 in the mountain towns and invests the plains before sun- 
 set. Two or three horsemen waited without. Her visit as 
 messenger from the Queen to the civil engineer was 
 thoroughly chaperoned by men and dogs! 
 
 "In my own country in my democratic country where 
 everything is real and simple, I could ask to see you. But 
 because you are at the court and the sister of the Queen I 
 am as far away from you as though I were an outcast!" 
 
 "How ridiculous!" She put her hand out in decided 
 leave-taking. "Good-night." 
 
 "Princess Mariska, when may I see you again?" He 
 helped her mount and as she looked down at him from her 
 horse, he returned her look steadily: "I must either see you 
 again, and soon, and many, many times, or never again."
 
 228 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 She did not answer. She gathered up her reins, 
 touched her horse and rode away. 
 
 But he did not regret. "She must know! What con- 
 fidence in me she has!" he mused. "What trust! How 
 adorable she is, how wonderful! Fancy her coming here 
 like that, with all that confidence, to warn me!" And he 
 repeated: "But she must know!"
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 KORVAN RECEIVES A SINISTER INVITATION TO PASS 
 A WEEK-END WITH THE PRIME MINISTER 
 
 Crossdale had come from an interview with Ugo, who had 
 done his best to impress Crossdale favorably, and he had 
 been again the agreeable fellow the American had found 
 him to be in Tamaresk. He had asked the engineer to out- 
 line the progress of the operations on the Royal State Rail- 
 road for the Prime Minister; he had discussed with him 
 Monsieur O'Dell, third in authority, an able engineer. 
 
 "Both her Majesty and the Prime Minister wish me to 
 express to you their satisfaction with the progress of the 
 Royal State Railroad. When we parted in the tower in 
 September, I told you that there was nothing against you 
 in our books. That's the way things stand tonight. You 
 have got a clean bill." 
 
 Crossdale pondered. "He's probably going to slip the 
 handcuffs on me tomorrow." 
 
 As the two men walked along together toward the "Silver 
 Horn" the spy said in parting: "Do you know what your 
 man Jeff is doing in Roda?" 
 
 "What I instructed him to do," said the engineer, on the 
 alert. "He is paymaster for about fifty men. What's 
 wrong?" 
 
 "Be sure you keep in touch with him."
 
 230 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 "Come," said Crossdale annoyed, "out with it! You 
 know I don't like mysteries and God knows I am surrounded 
 by them! What's the matter with the wretched man?" 
 
 "When did you see him last?" 
 
 "Let me see " said Crossdale, now alarmed. "About 
 ten days ago. He was all right then." A smile came to 
 his lips as he recalled Jeff. 
 
 "He is not in Roda now." 
 
 Crossdale stopped still in the road in the cold November 
 moonlight and fixed his companion. 
 
 "Not in Roda?" And he continued: "By Jove, Ugo! If 
 anything happens to that servant of mine you'll settle with 
 the United States." 
 
 The Karmanian soothed him. "There is a big festival at 
 Pratz-Zenoe, a native affair a bazaar and a circus I dare 
 say your man is among the pleasure seekers." 
 
 "Of course he is," said Crossdale, genuinely relieved. "He 
 is all negro and would risk his life to see a circus. Keep 
 your eye on him, Ugo. Give me his news!" 
 
 Ugo promised. 
 
 Korvan and Crossdale had dubbed the tap room of the 
 "Silver Horn" "The Moulin Rouge" because of the spirited 
 singing and dancing which went on in the little cafe morn- 
 ing, noon and night. The "Silver Horn" was a great dis- 
 traction for both of the young men. It amused the Ameri- 
 can to watch the dancing and the beautiful dark-eyed 
 women of the town, his workmen and the overseers all 
 came in and "whirra'ed." 
 
 Korvan was absorbed not the same man who had come 
 to Cye in the first days of October. For a fortnight the
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 231 
 
 American had seen very little of him, and almost all the 
 work had fallen on Crossdale. 
 
 From a table in the corner near the bar he watched Kor- 
 van now, the center of a little group of men at the other 
 end of the room, partly concealed by smoke from bad cigars 
 and pipes. The landlady was absent from the bar, leaving 
 in her place a brown-eyed lad of some twelve summers to 
 mix the native drinks while she langorously "whirra'ed" 
 with a majestic Karmanian. 
 
 Crossdale saw Korvan put his arm familiarly through the 
 arm of their second overseer, a chap in charge of the dyna- 
 miting. Stephen was used to Karmanian demonstration, but 
 he disliked his colleague's intimacy with his work people. 
 
 He had come in without being remarked. He finished 
 what the "Silver Horn" called black coffee black enough 
 looking in all truth, and tasting like heavily sweetened 
 liquorice. It had the advantage of not being easily for- 
 gotten; the taste of it remained in the mouth for the evening. 
 
 "Come here, Ganymede!" Crossdale said in English to 
 the dark eyed Karmanian child, who was handing out by the 
 pailful a special cordial tremendously popular with the 
 patrons of the tap room. As far as he had ever been able 
 to find out everything swam in it but liquor. It was mild; 
 like most of the things in the country, it was highly colored ; 
 it was harmless. The Karmanians worked, danced and 
 sang on non-intoxicating beverages. "Ask Lieutenant Kor- 
 van to come here." 
 
 The boy, who had climbed out over his perch, nodded and 
 fled. He extracted Korvan from the smoke and brought 
 him over to Crossdale.
 
 232 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 Stephen got up from behind the table. "I say, old chap, 
 I'm going back to the barracks. I've got some special 
 matters to talk over with you. Can you tear yourself away 
 from these gunpowder plots and come home?" 
 
 Ostensibly consulting with his colleague over operations 
 beyond Roda, he studied him. Korvan was nervous, 
 absorbed. Their little oil lamp, swaying in the most uncom- 
 fortable fashion, whilst the flaring charcoal threw its long 
 shadows on the wooden ceiling and the stone floor, Cross- 
 dale broke the silence: "Korvan, I am going back to Savia 
 next week." 
 
 .The other readjusted his monocle. He did not seem to 
 take in what his companion had told him. 
 
 "Come, old chap is it love or politics? What the deuce 
 is the matter with you, Korvan? If it's intrigue, I don't 
 want to hear about it, but if it's a love affair, that's 
 another matter." 
 
 Here Korvan, who was drawing with a blue pencil some 
 geometrical figures on a piece of paper, sat up and raised 
 his hand, breathlessly listening. From without came the 
 sound of guitar strings lightly touched, a man's voice sing- 
 ing a verse of Karmen Mara's latest song. 
 
 Korvan, perfectly motionless and pale as death, listened, 
 and in another moment he had gone to the door and opened 
 it noiselessly, and when he shut it he shut within the hut 
 a minstrel a tall youth, his scarlet tunic belted with 
 coarse leather belt, his blue trousers stuffed in his muddy 
 boots, a scarf around his neck hiding mouth and chin, the 
 fur cap pulled down, concealing the brown face, as dark as 
 an Indian's.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 233 
 
 He held out his guitar, stretching wide his arms, and the 
 next minute had thrown his arms round Korvan in a 
 brotherly embrace. He dashed off his hat, unwound his 
 scarf, tossing them on the table and cried to Crossdale in a 
 low, vibrating voice: "Hello! Glad to see you!" 
 
 Korvan had changed. In every move of his body, in 
 every line of his face, he was alert, breathless, pale as death. 
 He seized Sarvan by the arm. "You're mad!" he cried. 
 "Mad, my God! Nothing can save you now!" 
 
 But Sarvan, cool and laughing, stood his guitar in a 
 corner, took the peasant armchair and stretched out his legs 
 with a sigh of content. "Gad, mes amis, I'm as hungry as 
 a bear. How good it feels to sit down!" 
 
 "You've got cool nerve, Prince Sarvan," said Crossdale. 
 "Your disguise is great! The Prime Minister wouldn't 
 know you." 
 
 Korvan had taken from the little hanging cupboard near 
 the fire a jug, into which he poured the contents of a brown 
 bottle of ale; he cut off a piece of bread, put a big piece of 
 cheese on it, and Sarvan, turning his chair to the table, 
 littered with engineering stuff, ate like a famished man. 
 
 "Your Highness," Korvan spoke in earnest, tense tones, 
 "what in God's name shall we do with you? You're not 
 safe here an hour not fifteen minutes." 
 
 The young man, who was pelting down the food, looked 
 brightly from one face to another, although his eyes were 
 heavy with fatigue. "Let me stretch out on a bed a few 
 minutes, then I'll be off." There was a fire about him that 
 appealed to Crossdale mightily. 
 
 "I wouldn't get Crossdale into trouble," said the Prince,
 
 234 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 knitting his brows, "for anything on earth. I should not 
 stay here an hour." 
 
 "Your Highness," said the engineer, "I don't mix in 
 your politics, but I'll be damned if I don't give you my 
 bed. And you two want to talk I'll go into the royal apart- 
 ments and leave you alone." 
 
 "No," Korvan put his hand on his arm. "Don't leave 
 us, old man. A moment ago you said: 'Is it love or 
 politics?' I'm not a royalist; I am a democrat, a republican, 
 a follower of Prince John. I have been meaning to tell you 
 for a long time." 
 
 The Prince walked heavily toward the door of the little 
 chamber off the living room. "I bear a charmed life, Cross- 
 dale, I have been all up and down here for the last month. 
 I have been in the squad of workmen you engaged me the 
 other day with the new lot! I was in the tunnel when 
 you put a fuse standing within fifty feet of you. Just let 
 me have the feel of a bed again " 
 
 He staggered and leaned on Korvan, but he had not time 
 to cross the threshold when there came a clear rap at the 
 door. In a second Korvan had pushed him, Crossdale 
 threw in his scarf and cap after him, and the Karmanian 
 had scarcely shut the door when Crossdale opened the other 
 to admit Refan Ugo. 
 
 The spy, looking with apparent indifference and unre- 
 marking politeness from one to the other of the young men, 
 tranquilly bade them good evening. "Sorry to make such a 
 late call, but I have received a royal message which I was 
 obliged to bring in person." 
 
 Korvan invited him in with the utmost cordiality. Cross-
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 235 
 
 dale had a horrible conviction that something of Prince Sar- 
 van's had been left for the spy to see, but he did not dare 
 to glance around. The little room seemed^to dwindle to 
 the men's figures, but Refan Ugo's in his dark cloak, cold 
 and impassive, seemed the most effective of them all. 
 
 "I won't sit down. My message is for Lieutenant Kor- 
 van," and he fixed Stanislas with undisguised satisfaction. 
 "His Excellency, the Prime Minister, has asked me to 
 extend you an invitation, Lieutenant Korvan " 
 
 "His Excellency is very kind," murmured Korvan. 
 
 Crossdale understood that the same thrust which had 
 been dealt to Refan Ugo in the Queen's lodge, and which 
 had put Stanislas Korvan in his place, was to be dealt now 
 to his colleague. 
 
 "You are to be the guest of his Excellency for several 
 days at Pratz-Zenoe. I will accompany you myself 
 tomorrow, Lieutenant Korvan." 
 
 Crossdale saw the blow tell, as Korvan struggled for self- 
 control. He said, looking at the American: "Crossdale can 
 hardly spare me we have pressing work on the Royal 
 State Railway." 
 
 Ugo, who had not advanced more than a few feet from the 
 door, now put his hand back on the latch, as though he 
 contemplated immediately retiring. "Lieutenant Korvan, 
 if you remember, I was at one time First Secretary. Now I 
 carry messages from Her Majesty to her subjects." 
 
 "Gad!" thought Crossdale. "How I'd like to smash his 
 face for him again!" But he remained silent, quietly 
 smoking. "I will deal with you later God give me long 
 enough life to wipe up a few feet of ground with you!" He
 
 236 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 flicked the ashes of his cigarette into the fire, listening for 
 some sound from the room beyond. 
 
 "You will be ready to ride with me to Pratz-Zenoe 
 tomorrow at ten, Lieutenant Korvan Good-night. Good- 
 night, Mr. Crossdale." 
 
 When he had gone and the door was locked behind him 
 Korvan flew to the bedroom, looked in and came back to 
 his friend, his face working. "He is sleeping, Crossdale, 
 like a boy at school." 
 
 There was a silence for a minute between the two men and 
 then Korvan seized the American by the hand and gripped 
 it, wrung it. "Old sport !" he said. "The jig is up with me!" 
 
 "You mistrust this invitation to Pratz-Zenoe?" 
 
 The Karmanian could not conceal his agitation. He 
 passed his hand across his mouth to steady it. "Prince Karol 
 would never have sent for me if he hadn't suspected me. It 
 is an arrest." He leaned against the table and began to 
 catch at control. "He's got his claws on me lately, Cross- 
 dale. I have done the devil of a propaganda here! There 
 isn't a workman between Roda and Mount Nepta who isn't 
 ours. Karmania is rustling like wind in dry wheat. They 
 may get me, but they can't get the Chief. Sarvan Sar- 
 vanarof is a wonder, Prince John is a wonder! We only 
 wait our time." He turned with passion to his companion. 
 "Crossdale, you won't dabble in the politics of our country, 
 but you serve. Push the road, rush the work " 
 
 Crossdale burst in upon him with a laugh, full of humor. 
 "Old top! How long do you think they'll leave me on my 
 job? I'm next sure thing now."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 237 
 
 "No," said Korvan confidentially. "You're not a suspect. 
 We have got to get Sarvan out of here at once." 
 
 "Ah!" cried Crossdale, "it's too late!" Taking Korvan 
 by the cuff of his coat, he pointed with his other hand 
 toward their little window. "See those lights? They are 
 lanterns four of them! They are coming here." 
 
 With his words came a loud blow on the door and the 
 summons in Karmanian: "Heljenl Open in the name of the 
 Queen!" 
 
 Four men entered in the dress of the Queen's Guard, and 
 if the little room had seemed insignificant and the merest 
 scenic background before, it was more than ever so now. 
 
 He heard Korvan deny the presence of the Prince. The 
 men looked at each other and then at Crossdale. Korvan 
 said in English: "No one has been here tonight but the 
 Queen's messenger, Refan Ugo." 
 
 Crossdale nodded serenely, his hands in his pockets, and 
 he looked from one to another of the men, whose faces were 
 so serious, whose costume was so brilliant and theatrical. 
 
 "Home and mother, the United States and San Francisco, 
 seem very far away, Korvan, but I think I can lie as well as 
 the next one when it comes to it!" 
 
 He made an impressive negative gesture to the Chief 
 of Police and his men. Crossdale was practical and cate- 
 gorical, and the men appeared to believe him. He was 
 extremely popular in the province of Cye. 
 
 He smiled at the Chief. "There's not a soul in the house 
 but ourselves! You can search from the turret to the 
 dungeon." And nodding and smiling agreeably, he with- 
 drew as an American citizen and a foreigner from the
 
 238 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 intrigues of Central Europe went back to the bench, sat 
 down on it and prepared to fill his pipe. But he was keyed 
 up to the highest pitch. 
 
 ; The Chief of Police conveyed to Korvan the informa- 
 tion that it was his duty as an effective Guard of the Queen 
 to search the hut, and Crossdale, calling upon the good luck 
 that follows heroes to protect them now, caressed the bowl 
 of his pipe and stared at Sarvan's guitar over in the corner. 
 
 The Chief of Police opened the door into the bedroom 
 and went in, followed by his men. There was a silence, a 
 few Karmanian gutterals from the bedroom, and the search 
 party returned, affable, beaming, laughing and apologetic. 
 
 From their quiet re-entrance the two men understood that 
 the room was empty and that the young man, whom Kor- 
 van had seen twenty minutes before sleeping on his face 
 like a boy at school, had been able to effect his escape.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 ONLY THE CONFIDENT AND THE DESPAIRING KNOW HOW 
 TO WAIT. (KARMANIAN PROVERB.) 
 
 The following day was superb, one of the bright mid- 
 November days that in this southern valley glowed as 
 warm as midsummer. In the distance, sapphire blue, rose 
 the little range at the foot of which nestled the spa of Pratz- 
 Zenoe, only to be reached by special passport from the 
 Queen, and between Cye and Pratz-Zenoe rolled the color- 
 ful steppes. Toward this destination Crossdale saw Kor- 
 van ride off under escort. It had been a very strange affair 
 altogether Korvan's "invitation" and his departure. 
 Neither of the two friends showed any unrest or uneasiness, 
 although Korvan was desperate and Crossdale had a pretty 
 good idea of what a royal invitation in this sense might 
 mean. Captain Ugo was not visible. All night long a 
 guard had spent the hours between Ugo's disappearance 
 and the dawn astride of a chair, smoking filthy tobacco, in 
 their cosy little study. Korvan and he had not been able 
 to exchange an intimate word further than this: Korvan 
 put a letter in a blank envelope and sealed in the Ameri- 
 can's hand, and in English said: 
 
 "If I never come back, old chap, see this letter finds its 
 way to the proper person. Open it and you will discover 
 who the person is." This was the second time that Cross- 
 dale had been made a messenger in this kingdom, and he
 
 240 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 hoped to heaven he would never have to carry out this 
 mission. 
 
 After Korvan's departure he did not know what to do 
 with himself, and for the first time felt most desperately 
 lonely and out of sorts with Karmania in the general 
 sense of the word. If men could be transported in twenty- 
 four hours' time out of their environment in such a sum- 
 mary way, what could ensure his personal safety? The 
 Queen! Only her favor. 
 
 He could not stay another moment in the little desolate 
 house, from which his companion had been taken forcibly 
 away. He shut his cabin door, turned the key in it, and 
 went over to his railroad shacks, a twenty minutes' walk 
 through a field path, across the high road, to the settle- 
 ments of shanties and the barracks, where materials and 
 machinery and engines and cars were grouped around the 
 yawning mouth of Mount Nepta's tunnel. 
 
 He went whistling, keeping up a certain run of spirits. 
 But his anxiety about Korvan's fate did not hold all his 
 thoughts. They went to the Woman, with force and vigor, 
 and he set them free. She absorbed him, and the tre- 
 mendous swing of his feelings and the relief that it was to 
 think of her, even although he had no good reason for hope, 
 proved how sincere his passion was. His mind was full of 
 the images she created, the picture of her as he had seen 
 her first, in her peasant dress, with that brilliant blue apron 
 across her breast. 
 
 She seemed, oh, so often in his dreams, to laugh at him 
 from the doorway of her dairy, hands on hips, the rose at 
 her breast.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 241 
 
 Then the lovely lady that she was in truth, behind the 
 shining samovar, conventional, but none the less bewitch- 
 ing, fascinating, magnetic. Then the hunting girl, sitting in 
 the little room of his brown hut, with the dark stained walls 
 about her bright figure in the pink coat, and her brilliant, 
 sparkling face lifted to him! Had she not been too splendid 
 for words, coming like that, frankly, sincerely, putting his 
 loyalty and his fidelity up to him? 
 
 Intrigues and state affairs might surround him; Kar- 
 mania might be on the verge of revolution, but he could 
 think of nothing as he thought of her. She hammered 
 with the insistence of love at every part of his being. 
 Decidedly it was because of her interest that his "press" 
 was so good at court. Oh, if anxiety for his safety would 
 only bring her back! Back into his little hut, he would 
 never let her go again! 
 
 Crossdale came down through the sunlight to the works, 
 and saw the one-track railroad shining away in the brilliant 
 day towards Roda. He turned from field to high road 
 was within a few minutes of his little office near the mouth 
 of the tunnel and heard the drills, the voices of the work- 
 men, and stopped to look at the busy scene. Smoke from 
 the buildings rose limpid and translucent on the air. He 
 was proud of his achievement. He could begin to see the 
 finish of his enterprise. 
 
 Several people were standing without his little office 
 O'Dell but the second overseer generally there was absent 
 a woman in English tweed walking dress, cape over her 
 shoulders, stiff little cap on her head, crinkly chamois walk- 
 ing gloves and a walking stick, stood talking very seriously
 
 242 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 with O'Dell, whose attitude was one of rigid attention. She 
 seemed to command him, to give him orders, to insist, and 
 he bowed in acceptance of whatever her commands might 
 be. 
 
 The American hurried as fast as was compatible with 
 dignity, and her face grew bright as he came up. She put 
 out her hand in its crinkly glove. "Good morning. I have 
 just been telling Mr. O'Dell that you are going to take 
 me over the Royal State Railroad, aren't you show me 
 everything from start to finish?" She glanced at O'Dell 
 with a meaning which Crossdale did not understand. 
 "Show me everything that Lieutenant Korvan showed the 
 Queen." 
 
 He was obliged to let her hand fall and in contained, 
 commonplace words to tell her that he would be delighted. 
 "I will take you," he said, "to the very core of Mount 
 Nepta, as far in as the tunnel goes why not? With a 
 lantern on your cap and a torch at your side! And when we 
 come out I will blow up a section in your honor, and you 
 shall hear what the dynamite has to say to that ancient 
 rock. In short," he finished, for something else to say, "you 
 shall be served as royally as the Queen." 
 
 She blushed, and answered quickly: "Of course! But I 
 am of the royal household, and you must not be surprised 
 if they treat me with great deference as we go." 
 
 Whilst Crossdale gave his orders for the guides and 
 for the cortege to take them in, O'Dell told him hurriedly 
 in an undertone that the second overseer had been trans- 
 ported to Pratz-Zenoe in the same caravan with Korvan, an 
 invitation from the authorities in the South.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 243 
 
 That night he came back to his lonely cabin mad with 
 hope and utterly happy. If a bomb had blown up the Royal 
 State Railway works and carried his own cabin up into the 
 air with it, he would probably have caught and held a star 
 in his flight, and gone on with his dream. 
 
 He found his little fire lit and waiting, and a savory 
 supper prepared by the faithful Serga, and, like two pre- 
 historic creatures in the tiny room, his beloved dogs waited 
 for him. He went into the bedroom, which he had shared 
 with Korvan, took the hot tub which Serga had ready, 
 shaved and made a complete and restful toilet, and came 
 out refreshed, his senses singing and his brain active and 
 keen, and withal in a state of wonderful vibration. He ate 
 and sat down before his fire to smoke and to dream. He 
 was alone with his dogs, with his memories of the long, 
 perfect day. He forgot that Prince Sarvan had tossed dice 
 for life and death here in this room the night before. 
 
 She had stayed with him all day. He had shown her all 
 there was to be seen of the work on the Royal State Rail- 
 road. As he thought back he realized that everyone had 
 stood aside to leave them alone. They treated her with 
 deference, but he noticed nothing special and she had been 
 cold, distant, reserved, showing in her glance and by her 
 gesture her desire to be alone with her guide. His work 
 became a real, an animate thing to him under her intelli- 
 gence and enthusiasm. She insisted upon going to Roda 
 with him from Cye on one of the small hand cars. It amused 
 her to see it worked by the brake. She had the men of his 
 staff dismissed definitely, and issued her commands as 
 though indeed she were part of the royal household. Cross-
 
 244 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 dale had found himself toward noon on a hand car with his 
 guest, and a Karmanian workman in native costume driving 
 them like mad down the single track to Roda. He had 
 telephoned to keep the way free, and so they flew. And 
 she was wild about it, delighted with it, and had not been 
 satisfied until they had slowed and she had taken the Kar- 
 manian's place, and with Stephen's help she had driven the 
 hand car the last half mile of the way. He could close his 
 eyes and hear her laugh aloud as they drove, the wind in 
 their faces, flying between the barren fields. He could feel 
 her touch at his side and hear her voice: "Faster! It is 
 great sport! Faster!" 
 
 Serga noiseless, impassive, in his soft leather slippers 
 cleared away the remains of his master's supper, whilst 
 Crossdale, with a dog on one side and another with his 
 nose between his feet, relived the story of his perfect day. 
 
 But he was conscious that the servant waited in the most 
 humble attitude of appeal, and he glanced up, impatient at 
 any interruption of his thoughts. "Excellence," said the 
 man in broken English, "does his Excellence think that 
 Lieutenant Korvan will come back?" 
 
 He saw the man's eyes fill with moisture and he remem- 
 bered his friend with a pang. "What a selfish hound I am!" 
 He comforted Serga as well as he could and the man slipped 
 out noiselessly, and Crossdale went back to his dream. 
 
 In the little inn at Roda, the same wayside station where 
 he had stopped as he had caravaned in from Tamaresk, 
 he had eaten a midday meal with her at a rough table with 
 no cloth; with pewter plates and pewter mugs; and they 
 drank country beer and ate bread and cheese and sausage;
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 245 
 
 and he watched her, scarcely touching the food, carried 
 away by her charm. 
 
 Everywhere they went the people eyed her curiously and 
 disappeared as if by magic to leave them alone. And whilst 
 they ate, the native musicians had played the Queen's songs. 
 Reliving it he forgot everything else. He forgot that Jeff 
 Robinson had been missing from Roda for three days and 
 the fact that his own safety was not assured; he forgot Kor- 
 van. Everything was obliterated by this absorbing, pas- 
 sionate interest. 
 
 "Tell your man to drive you to the Prime Minister's rest- 
 house in your treja tomorrow. Be there at one and then 
 dismiss him." 
 
 She had said this to him before the "Silver Horn" at Cye, 
 where he had left her, where she had met her own treja and 
 the servants of the Queen's household. He could not have 
 sat down to his table and have lost himself in computations 
 and mathematics to have saved his soul. He picked up 
 Sarvan's guitar, tuned it and began to touch the string, and 
 he found the chords of Karmen Mara's song, which until 
 now he had never played: 
 
 "What shall I give him 
 
 Who comes so far and so gladly? 
 
 A gift for a stranger, 
 
 A gift for a rider, 
 
 I will give him that which I have kept for him, 
 that which my mother gave me. 
 
 What is this gift? The heart in my breast. 
 
 When he feels it he will count its beating."
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 WHEN YOUR NEIGHBOR'S WIFE HAS HONEY AND FIRE ON 
 
 HER LIPS, A WISE MAN WAITS TILL HER HUSBAND GOES 
 
 ON A JOURNEY. (KARMANIAN PROVERB.) 
 
 Crossdale dismissed his treja. "Skarervaro! Skarervaro 
 batuchi!" he said to the old peasant in the door of Karol's 
 rest house. The old creature this time did not wield a pan- 
 cake turner, but he might have been standing there, gazing 
 at the forest for who should come and go ever since the 
 fatal day of Paul's accident in September. Skarervaro 
 batuchi means: "May you inherit money from your 
 enemies and preserve as long as you live your teeth and 
 your eyesight." After having made this friendly wish 
 Crossdale saw how futile it was, for the old peasant had not 
 a tooth in his head and he stared out of bleared eyes. 
 
 "I don't know whether he expects me," the American 
 thought, "or whether he looks for anything but the end of 
 the world, but here I am." 
 
 The bells died away. The wonderful autumn forests were 
 around him, brown rabbits ran across the piney ground, the 
 trees came up to the very door of the tiny hut. Here he 
 stood, according to her expressed wish! It seemed too -good 
 to be true! He asked himself for the hundredth time: 
 "What is it going to mean?" 
 
 Now treja bells, faint at first, then louder, clamoring, cry-
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 247 
 
 ing as they rang from the collars of her horses, smote him 
 through with sound, and swinging out into the broad path 
 before the hut, drawn by two stocky Cossack horses, a 
 sledge jangled up before the rest house, and Crossdale saw 
 that she was alone, except for Griffen by her side on the 
 front seat. She was driving the stallions herself in great 
 form, and as she drew up she waved her whip and Griffen 
 sprang out and came rushing to him. He went to her and 
 bent over her hand in its thick white glove. 
 
 "We'll put Griffen in the back seat," she said, u and then 
 you will let me show you how the ponies take to the 
 steppes! Come!" 
 
 And before he could realize his fortune he was by her 
 side, Griffen half on the seat and half on the floor, making 
 the best he could of his quarters; and she had whirled her 
 black horses about and cracked her whip over their heads, 
 calling to them in the rich voice she had when she spoke her 
 native tongue: "Mija! Mija!" And the horses seemed to 
 crouch for a spring and were off. The treja slid over the pine 
 needles, and Crossdale saw that the bits of the stallions 
 were cruel; otherwise she could never have managed them. 
 
 The day was warm with noon sunlight. She wore no 
 furs, but a loose-fitting little coat of green with a high 
 military collar and a little round black cap of astrachan 
 close over her hair. From the back of her seat hung a 
 coat lined with sable. She sat up trim and slim as a boy. 
 
 "I usually drive four horses." She had not once turned 
 her face toward him, but he was drinking in every line of 
 her body, the texture of her neck, the rich color under her 
 cheek, the lines of her soft, red mouth, her beautiful fea-
 
 248 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 tures, with the cheek bones too high for any race but that 
 of the Slav. 
 
 They slipped and glided on, the horses' feet making 
 scarcely any sound in the deep path. On either side of them 
 rose the aisles of the pines and cedars with pink and purple 
 trunks, until the eyes fairly ached following the vistas, 
 broken, again carried on, the spaces found and lost. 
 
 "I love these forests," he murmured, "but I'd like to show 
 you our lands the prairies! I'd like you to see the way my 
 own ranch looked the June night I left it to come out here." 
 
 "You left your land to come to Karmania. Tell me 
 something about America." 
 
 He hesitated. What could he tell this child of an Oriental 
 land about the western hemisphere? She could not under- 
 stand its ideals or its dreams; she was a part of this old 
 tapestry. 
 
 "It's a great land to be born in the only place I'd want 
 to be born in or come from. And yet " 
 
 "You wouldn't want to live in Karmania always?" 
 
 He gave a little laugh. "Live in Karmania!" 
 
 The} 7 made a wide swinging sweep out from the forest and 
 he saw the steppes again. She drew her horses up and 
 pointed with her whip to the inland sea. 
 
 "It's not cattle country, but it's beautiful in its way." 
 
 It was like looking on a golden sea, in the full bright 
 moonlight of an Indian summer, the mist shot through with 
 gold. His companion stood up in the sledge, wound the 
 reins around her wrists, put her right foot a bit forward and 
 stood so, braced, turning her face for the first time fully to 
 Crossdale, and he saw it in its brightness, in its witchery
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 249 
 
 and charm, flushed, gay, her gray eyes full of light and 
 laughter. 
 
 "I am going to show you what my Cossack ponies can 
 do!" 
 
 She called to them in her rich voice, and the horses 
 sprang forward, dragging the treja after them into the 
 golden mist of the steppe. With one bound Griffen leaped 
 from the back of the sledge and he coursed and raced 
 alongside, his long nose stretched forward, like a mad 
 thing toward an unseen horizon. 
 
 The American braced himself. They went like mad, the 
 girl's figure, in its loose tunic and its short skirt above the 
 high leather Cossack boots, was fully displayed in her poise 
 for balance. It was a sledge chariot race, a mad, mad race. 
 At times they flew through fog, and then again it would 
 blow back and the view be unbroken. She called to him: 
 "Do you like it?" And he cried to her: "Great! Wonder- 
 ful!" and saw that she could control her horses, understood 
 them, and gave himself up to the fascination of the drive. 
 
 After a little she drew her stallions down, their bodies 
 dripping and the foam clinging like cotton to their breasts 
 and bellies. She drew them back on their haunches, accord- 
 ing to the fashion of the country, like dogs, wound her reins 
 around the whip and sank in her seat, drawing in long 
 breaths of delight. Turning her brilliant face to him, sud- 
 denly she drew off her thick white gloves and dropped 
 them on the floor of the treja and held out both her hands: 
 "See!" 
 
 How they trembled! He seized them. He saw how fast 
 she was breathing and that she had been whipped and
 
 250 THE QUEEN OF K ARMANI A 
 
 stimulated by the delight of the motion. Griffen had 
 thrown himself down by the side of the treja, panting, 
 exhausted, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. In 
 another moment she had torn her hands away, sprung out 
 of the treja and he followed her. She stood for a moment, 
 then stretched out her arms as though she would embrace 
 the sweep of the mysterious land, and as she shook her head 
 back with a little eager gesture her small cap fell to the 
 ground. 
 
 "Let it go! Let it go! I want to be free!" 
 
 He watched her as one might watch a fantasy, a dream. 
 Since they had been driving, since their mad race, she had 
 scarcely seemed a real thing to him. She seemed the essence 
 of fire and feeling, but strangely apart. She glanced him 
 over from head to foot. He was dressed in a country suit 
 of tweeds, with knickerbockers and a soft cap, which, as 
 hers had fallen to the ground, he tossed upon the seat of the 
 sledge. 
 
 She nodded at him a challenge, a call to the youth of him : 
 "Can you run? Do you like to run? Catch me, then!" And 
 she had started to run across the steppes. 
 
 Running was one of the things he liked best in the way 
 of sport, but he had to run well in order to keep pace with 
 that flying bird. She scarcely seemed to touch the dust of 
 the steppes with her slender feet in their soft black boots. 
 He had never seen anything so vibrant, so magnetic as the 
 lithe running figure he pursued. 
 
 She ran like a boy, but he caught her, holding her wrists 
 in his pulsing palms. He saw the breath come short to her 
 parted lips, her head up, though the color had not stayed
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 251 
 
 with her. She was his captive, with her small brilliant head 
 high and her eyes half-defiant and half-demanding. 
 
 He kissed her once upon the lips, and then put his arms 
 around her waist and held her, looking down at her. He had 
 never looked so into any human face. And again he kissed 
 her, standing close to her in that wide isolation. She did 
 not return his caresses, but stood like a figure of stone. But 
 the touch of her and the feel of her was human and mar- 
 vellous and her lips seemed to have been made for him to 
 drink. Then she tore herself from him and began to run 
 back. 
 
 He hardly pursued her until she quieted down and fell 
 into a walk, her hands loosely at her sides and her head bent 
 forward. He let her go before him to the treja. He could 
 not find words in any language to say what he wanted to 
 say to her. She unwound her reins, picked up her cap and 
 put it firmly on her head, found her soiled gloves, all 
 marked with the reins, on the floor of the treja, and drew 
 them on slowly, Crossdale watching her, dumb with passion. 
 She got into the low sledge from her side, Griffen sprang 
 behind them, and the American took the sable-lined cloak 
 and wrapped it round her and held her closely to him. But 
 he did not kiss her again, and still she was as though she 
 were made of stone in his arms. 
 
 It had been one o'clock when they left the rest-house and 
 it was only three now, and they drove back into the woods 
 before the shadows found them. 
 
 "It will come the parting I shall have to leave her. 
 Before we part I shall know what to say." 
 
 But although they drove in silence he felt the most perfect
 
 252 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 harmony, the most complete and unbroken atmosphere. He 
 had directed his treja to meet him at the rest-house at four. 
 He was waiting for some sign from her before he could 
 speak. 
 
 And it came. As they glided over the satin ground of the 
 last alley, before the curve around which the rest-house 
 became visible, the girl turned her face and he saw it, 
 beautiful, grave, with eyes like stars. She leaned toward 
 him, and he, with a low exclamation, put his arms about 
 her as she drove and took from her then the kisses that she 
 was ready to give. He knew that in all his life until he 
 should be, if he lived, an old, old man, there would never be 
 another moment like this. 
 
 "I can never leave you!" he said, in a low voice, "Never!" 
 
 "You must. My people will meet me here in a few 
 moments." 
 
 He put his hands over hers that held the reins, finding her 
 slender wrists under the gauntlet of the thick white gloves. 
 
 "I can never find my way again unless you walk it with 
 me never!" And all of a sudden he was conscious that 
 she caught her breath with a sob. She shook her head and 
 tears sprang to her eyes, and now the color flooded her 
 cheeks which had been so pale. 
 
 "Go!" she commanded him, stamping on the floor of the 
 treja with her foot. "Go at once! Don't linger another 
 moment. They must not see you with me here go!" 
 
 From the distance came the long silver note of a hunting 
 horn. She gathered up her reins and whip, and her low 
 voice thrilled him through: "If you care for me as you seem 
 to, trust me to find the way."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 253 
 
 As he went, because he knew that she wished him to dis- 
 appear before the others came, whoever they were, to 
 find her and protect her, he could hear the ever nearing 
 call of the hunting horn.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 ANY WOMAN MAY BECOME A QUEEN, 
 
 BUT A QUEEN MAY NOT ALWAYS BE A WOMAN 
 
 (KARMANIAN PROVERB) 
 
 Prince Karol was frightfully angry, but he was obliged to 
 remain patiently attentive until the Queen had finished her 
 song. He had come to see her as head of the kingdom and 
 he knew that his diplomacy would be put to a severe test. 
 With a guitar slung over her shoulder she stood singing 
 with her musicians, at one end of the music room, trying one 
 of her new songs. 
 
 He could not but acknowledge how changed for the 
 better the young Queen was. She was more human, more 
 enchanting; she seemed to have taken upon herself a new 
 dignity, even with him. She was very different, this royal 
 creatress and musician, from the wild girl of the treja ride 
 and the race on the Steppes. She was absorbed in an art 
 of which she was mistress. Her beauty and her fascination 
 were at their best. But Prince Karol was not swayed by 
 her in the least. She finished her song, put the guitar on 
 the piano, dismissed the players, and the Premier came 
 forward. 
 
 Under the long window overlooking the brown tower and 
 Mount Nepta ran a deep seat, covered with brocade cushions 
 in violet, old-rose-and-gold priceless brocades brought from
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 255 
 
 the Orient in the days when the Crusaders came back from 
 Jerusalem. The Queen sat down here, motioning her uncle 
 to sit by her side, linked her hands around her knee, her 
 white fingers bright against her black dress. She waited 
 for the sermon which she knew was to come, and which she 
 had determined to take in the worst possible grace. 
 
 On the way from his palace to the castle Karol had been 
 wondering how to affect the Queen capricious, wilful, every 
 day gaining greater power with her Parliament and the 
 people, as every day his own popularity waned. He could 
 never treat her as a merely headstrong girl, as he wanted to 
 do. She was adored from mountain to river; she had 
 become the people's idol, and he was too wise not to know 
 that without Karmen Mara for figure head, the ship of 
 state would go on the rocks. He opened his campaign 
 violently. Her quiet beauty irritated him. "Your Majesty, 
 you have forgotten that you are a Queen." 
 
 Her long black dress, which clung close to her figure, 
 was relieved at the neck by a heavy band of marvellous 
 embroidery. She held her chin high; she wound her fingers 
 in the long chain of pearls which she always wore, and 
 instead of meeting her uncle's furious eyes, with madden- 
 ing indifference she fixed her own on the portraits on the 
 wall, a long row of portraits of the chiefs of the family of 
 which she had become so arbitrarily a member. With a 
 slight shrug and unruffled composure she answered: "I have 
 forgotten that I am a Queen possibly because for the first 
 time I have remembered that I am a woman." 
 
 The Premier laughed slightly. "There is no contingency 
 possible to imagine, Karmen Mara, in which the woman at
 
 256 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 the head of her kingdom has a right to forget her dignity 
 and her people. Above all," he continued, "in this moment, 
 when we need all our force to control circumstances. You 
 will deflect from your power, you will tarnish your popu- 
 larity; these sheep will cease to follow you, you will imperil 
 the state." 
 
 "Oh," she said, with a toss of her charming head, "how 
 well you speak! You should write a rhetoric, Uncle Karol! 
 Your choice of words is so extraordinarily fit. The subject 
 unfortunately does not warrant all this hyperbole!" Her 
 cheeks reddened. From the crown of her dark head to the 
 pointed toe of her black little slipper, with its gleaming 
 buckle, she was truly royal this afternoon. An artist on 
 the Rue de la Paix in Paris had created her gown for her. 
 Two pearls hung from her ears, and from her neck to her 
 waist the chain of black and white pearls, famous in the 
 history of the crown jewels, relieved the austere simplicity 
 of her dress. 
 
 "A woman," said her uncle, "always makes the excuse of 
 her sex for her follies. Why should she not use it as a stimu- 
 lant for her sacrifices, her renunciations and her duties?" 
 
 "Finer and finer!" exclaimed Karmen Mara. "You 
 improve as you go on Uncle Karol! But your words are 
 quite wasted I know all that you wish to say, all that you 
 would insinuate. I have been made the victim of fate, as 
 far as I am concerned. I have had no legitimate life and no 
 love, and I am only twenty-eight. I do not ask you to 
 remember; I state the unimportant fact." 
 
 Karol saw that whatever his method had been, it was a 
 poor one, that it would have no effect on her whatsoever.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 257 
 
 Her voice was as cold and as hard as the mica that Cross- 
 dale was blowing out of his tunnel. 
 
 "But you shall hear me," he exclaimed, lifting his hand 
 in a compelling gesture. "I speak for the people, for your 
 husband's memory. You are making yourself the common 
 talk of the country." 
 
 She sprang to her feet. "I command you to be still!" she 
 exclaimed, and took a few steps away from him, her long 
 arms behind her back, her head bent a little. Then she 
 returned, standing in front of him, as a girl at school might 
 have done, defending herself in some girlish escapade. 
 
 "Ridiculous! A mountain out of a mole hill! The perils 
 of the kingdom are more interesting, they are vital! How 
 can you speak of my poor amusements? I have seen a man, 
 a gentleman, honorable, a few times capriciously, I admit ! 
 Unconventional yes! But there has been no harm in it. I 
 might have eaten tea and toast with him here in the peacock 
 room under your chaperonage but it is dull, dull as all 
 my life has been! I have been always incognito; Mr. Cross- 
 dale is an American and does not know who I am, anyway." 
 
 He smiled subtly. "My dear, you are not so naive as 
 to think that this foreigner does not know with whom he has 
 been flirting?" 
 
 "But I assure you he does not. He has thought from the 
 first that I am Mariska." 
 
 "You are blind!" exclaimed the Prime Minister. "This 
 masquerade has clouded your usual good sense! This 
 engineer will boast of his adventure in his vulgar country 
 to his vulgar countrymen. I wish I could stir your pride, 
 your Majesty!"
 
 258 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 But he only stirred her disgust and anger. "Talk to me 
 of the political situation/' she commanded. "Your point of 
 view is too dull and hideous. Speak of other things." But 
 her uncle saw that his insinuation had told. 
 
 "King Peter married you because of your dignity and 
 your native nobility, Karmen Mara. Don't disappoint Kar- 
 mania in the hour of her need. With Sarvanarof you were 
 above reproach. You have been admirable in all your 
 married history. You handled Prince Sarvan and his calf 
 love like a true woman." 
 
 "And yet," she said bitterly, "you accuse me now in the 
 most painful manner." 
 
 "Hitherto you have been equal to the situation." 
 
 "The situation at present is a different one, your Excel- 
 lency." In saying this she quietly admitted to him that 
 it was a situation. A rebellious expression darkened her 
 face and in a very low tone she said: "I refuse to listen to 
 anything, your Excellency, which would part me from my 
 present interest. My marriage has debarred me from a 
 happy life; why must I be denied a happy love?" 
 
 Karol saw that he would have to go to far greater lengths 
 in order to effect any issue with her, and though his face 
 grew stern he changed his tactics abruptly. 
 
 "Parliament meets tomorrow. I have many important 
 matters to discuss with you other than this. Sarvanarof 
 and Sarvan are at large. There is rebellion and treachery 
 in your army, even among the Royal Guard. Ammunition 
 has been concealed sufficient to arm a third of the popula- 
 tion that we know; but we have not discovered the hiding 
 place. Now, although you were not born to the purple," he
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 259 
 
 thrust this at her, "try to meet these crises. Parliament 
 convenes today; many things will come up for discussion." 
 
 But the Queen of Karmania, though God knows she 
 loved her kingdom, had only clung, as a woman clings to 
 something she does not like, to one sentence of his, and she 
 returned to it, interrupting. 
 
 "What was your last horrid suggestion, Uncle Karol? 
 What did you mean when you said that Mr. Crossdale 
 would boast of his adventures in the United States?" 
 
 She fluttered into his hand like a bird and he was 
 delighted. More humanly he said: 
 
 "I would have been glad not to have brought this into 
 the question at all, my dear, but you force me to, and it may 
 be well to do so." Reluctantly, as though he really wanted 
 to spare her, he said: "You know that Refan Ugo confis- 
 cates Mr. Crossdale's correspondence?" 
 
 "Well?" she returned breathlessly. "I did not know it, 
 in point of fact I thought you had stopped that inquisi- 
 tion." 
 
 Karol put his hand in his pocket and brought out a letter 
 addressed to: "Caleb Storm, Esq., Western Transportation 
 Company, San Francisco." The envelope had been broken 
 open, the seal tampered with. He handed the letter to the 
 Queen. 
 
 She took it and read it with eyes that scarcely saw. It 
 was hand written. She had never seen his handwriting; 
 she had forgotten his signature on the documents. She read, 
 and like a startled woman, suspicious always and jealous in 
 love, for the moment she believed. In the midst of a busi- 
 ness letter of no importance was a paragraph in which Mr.
 
 260 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 Crossdale boasted of a sentimental adventure in Karmania 
 with a lady whose rank was too high to name. 
 
 With trembling hands and flaming cheeks she folded the 
 letter and crushed it in her hand. She did not give it back. 
 "Oh!" she exclaimed. "He must leave the kingdom at once, 
 at once!" 
 
 "Be a Queen, Karmen Mara. Be as brave in this as you 
 have been in other moments of your life, my dear. I have 
 thought the question out to the end." 
 
 Her eyes were fastened on him, scarcely seeing. He could 
 not dream or imagine the anguish that this gave the proud 
 and childlike woman, for she had trusted this man whom 
 she loved with a singular and pure-minded belief, a faith 
 which she could never give again, and which, in her primi- 
 tive opinion, had sanctioned everything. She had not yet 
 begun to take it in. She heard Karol say: 
 
 "We were able to rid ourselves of Baumgarten when he 
 threatened to sell his workmen to the spies of Prince John. 
 It is different with Crossdale. We only need to ship him out 
 of the country as fast as possible." 
 
 "Oh," she exclaimed, "and the railroad?" 
 
 Here the Prime Minister shrugged slightly, looking down 
 at his hands, which he was rubbing together, and said: "I 
 think, your Majesty, that it will be the best thing for Kar- 
 mania and for the royal cause to stop all operations on the 
 Royal State Railway, to dismiss the working force, Cross- 
 dale with it, and to concentrate our efforts on the quelling of 
 the rebellion." 
 
 But Queen Karmen Mara broke the spell under which 
 she was. "On no account!" she said wkh much energy
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 261 
 
 and self-control. "As far as Mr. Crossdale is concerned, 
 that we can handle without sacrificing the interests of the 
 kingdom, and handle it we will, your Excellency. It is my 
 express desire that nothing in the way of the railroad con- 
 tracts shall be changed. I want the road for Karmania and 
 I want the work to go on." 
 
 The Prime Minister did not press this. He was more than 
 satisfied with the impression he had made, as he heard her 
 murmur: "Oh, but it's inconceivable, unbelievable! It can't 
 be true!" 
 
 He hurried: "Men are men, your Majesty, and Ameri- 
 cans are fearfully vulgar! You don't know their type!" 
 
 But a shudder ran through her slender body. She put one 
 hand over her eyes and said: "I feel as though all the 
 dust of Karmania were on my face and lips Mr. Cross- 
 dale must not leave the country until his work is done and 
 then " she did not finish, but walked, humiliated, the 
 length of the music room to her piano, and stood there 
 leaning on it. 
 
 Prince Karol came over to her and put his hand on her 
 shoulder. After a second she lifted her pale face to him, 
 without a tear on her eyelids. What she said was very 
 far from the sentimental subject of their conversation. 
 
 "Uncle Karol, I understand from Mariska, with whom I 
 have walked the floor all night, that Stanislas is at Pratz- 
 Zenoe. I have waited to speak to you about it. What 
 will happen to him?" 
 
 "The worst, I am afraid. He is being tried by court- 
 martial and will probably be condemned to death." 
 
 Karmen Mara clasped her hands together in protest.
 
 262 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 "Impossible!" she exclaimed. "We cannot possibly allow 
 it it would kill my sister." 
 
 The Prime Minister continued gravely: "The death of a 
 traitor more or less will make small difference in the history 
 of Karmania, your Majesty. Korvan will be shot before 
 sunrise on Sunday morning." 
 
 K 'Neverl Never! I will never sign such a sentence!" 
 
 "The Constitution has provided for that since the last 
 rebellion death warrants can be signed by the Prime Min- 
 ister and Parliament." 
 
 "Over the signature of the Queen!" 
 
 "We must dispense with the signature of a mere woman 
 in these times, Karmen Mara." 
 
 "Ah!" she exclaimed, fixing him with a strange look. "It 
 would be easy for you, then, to put any man out of the way 
 whom you detested, wouldn't it, your Excellency?" 
 
 "The best thing for you to do, my dear, would be to go to 
 Roumania and remain there in quiet, until all these things 
 have blown over. You would be spared disturbances and 
 danger and these summary executions; you would be safe; 
 and better than all, you will be able to escape the atten- 
 tions of this traveling salesman." 
 
 "Heavens!" she exclaimed, withering him with one look 
 of utter dislike. "What a brute you are! And you speak 
 of vulgarity, Excellency!" 
 
 One of the Queen's valets stood at the far end of the 
 music room, waiting for permission to enter. At a sign 
 from the Queen he came forward with two visiting cards, 
 which Prince Karol took from him. On his face a curious 
 expression, half amusement, half of disgust.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 263 
 
 "Mr. Stephen Crossdale!" he read from the card, glancing 
 up at the Queen. 
 
 Karmen Mara looked speechlessly at the Prime Minister. 
 
 "Where is this gentleman?" 
 
 It appeared that Mr. Crossdale was downstairs. 
 
 "I will go down at once and see him," said the Prime 
 Minister brusquely. "I want to see him very, very oppor- 
 tune." He seemed suddenly to have sprung into a more 
 natural state of mind at the sight of these commonplace 
 bits of pasteboard. 
 
 "I shall arrange for you," he said practically. "Mr. 
 Crossdale will go over to Cye for the winter; we will cage 
 him there like a bear. He cannot annoy you in any way 
 like this Mount Nepta is impassable until the spring." 
 
 The color came rioting back into the face of Karmen 
 Mara. His name, staring at her from the bit of pasteboard, 
 "Mr. Stephen Crossdale," seemed so clean-cut, so simple, so 
 little connected with treachery and vulgarity. 
 
 "I have never heard of anything so extraordinary in my 
 life!" she exclaimed. "Why, he calls on me as frankly as 
 though I were " and she stopped for lack of the proper 
 word. 
 
 The servant who had brought the cards made a profound 
 salutation and begged a thousand pardons of her Majesty 
 and his Excellency, but the gentleman had asked for the 
 Princess Mariska. Karmen Mara exclaimed triumphantly: 
 "Don't you see? Don't you see? He hasn't the least idea 
 that I am anyone else but Mariska?"
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 A PEACOCK'S FEATHER BRINGS GOOD LUCK TO A 
 
 SAILOR, BAD LUCK TO A MAN WHOSE WIFE IS 
 
 AWAY FROM HOME, AND SIGHT TO THE 
 
 BLIND (KARMANIAN PROVERB) 
 
 Karol found Crossdale not in the peacock room, but in a 
 lovely little library in blue and gold, gazing up at the books 
 with his back to the door. He wheeled as Karol entered and 
 in the brusque way in which he greeted the Premier of a 
 Kingdom, appeared to have forgotten whatever he may have 
 assimilated of court etiquette in Karmania. He stared at 
 the Minister accusingly, solemnly. 
 
 He looked as though he had neither slept well nor eaten 
 at breakfast. He had the appearance of being a flesh and 
 blood man in a paper setting. He had been working with 
 ardor and passion when he had heard a piece of news which 
 had chilled him to the marrow, and as he was, he had left 
 his workmen and come by the way of Pratz-Zenoe, round 
 by the plains to the capital, and made his way to the palace 
 without invitation or permission. He wore his working 
 clothes he could have hardly told himself what he had on; 
 but he had no time to go back and change. He dressed in 
 that rough country, with the rough men, often in his ranch- 
 man dress of khaki breeches, stuffed into riding boots, a 
 woolen shirt, with a bright handkerchief rpund his neck. So
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 265 
 
 he stood, with a leather belt about his waist and his big 
 sombrero beneath his arm. 
 
 He had created much sensation as he rode to Savia. The 
 Prime Minister glanced him up and down in amused con- 
 tempt. He had in his own mind, back of him, all the scene 
 just enacted with the Queen, and this fellow, in a wild west 
 show costume, with the mud of Karmania on his boots, had 
 magnetized the Queen! "What is this horrible news about 
 Stanislas Korvan?" 
 
 Prince Karol was very fine at this moment. Gravely, 
 with the solemnity of a man who alone is calm in a political 
 crisis, stands serenely amongst traitors and throne- wreckers, 
 said in the most worldly tone: "How perfectly charming 
 to see you, Mr. Crossdale, in this delightfully friendly and 
 unexpected fashion 1 I am sorry they did not take you into 
 the peacock room it is so cheerful. But since we are 
 here " Karol dropped down on a corner of the sofa, but 
 the young engineer stood firmly planted on his feet, glaring 
 at him as though Karol himself were the executioner. 
 "Crossdale, we are terribly moved. Her Majesty is cruelly 
 distressed, as you may imagine." 
 
 Crossdale interrupted, accusing, his gray-blue eyes full 
 of fire. "Why, they say that Stanislas may be executed! 
 It isn't possible! It isn't true! I have come all the way 
 from Cye it has taken me hard traveling nearly a week " 
 
 "My dear Crossdale, won't you sit down?" The Prime 
 Minister indicated a comfortable chair, in which the figure 
 of the big ranchman would have been extremely incon- 
 gruous. 
 
 "No, damn it, I won't sit down! I have not been able to
 
 266 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 believe that anything was true in your kingdom, but when 
 I hear that a man with whom I have eaten and slept, of 
 whom I am as fond as a brother, may be put out of the 
 running in a few hours, then I understand that kings and 
 ministers and queens and the rest of us are the same blood 
 and flesh!" 
 
 Karol did not appear to take offense at the brusque, rude 
 speech of Crossdale, who had no time to play with etiquette. 
 "Korvan is being tried by court martial. He is an officer; 
 he will be condemned by his own class." 
 
 "Why," said Crossdale, thrusting his hands in his pockets 
 and protruding his chin a little forward as he talked to the 
 great man, "you don't know what I have done for your cause 
 over there with my men I have got some influence on 
 them, your Excellency. There are only a hundred and fifty 
 just there, south of Pratz-Zenoe. The only way I could 
 keep them all from walking with their picks and shovels and 
 dynamite to Pratz-Zenoe, was by coming myself and swear- 
 ing that cost what it would, I would bring Korvan back." 
 
 Prince Karol stared at him. This was really very, very 
 picturesque! "I forgive you, Mr. Crossdale," he said, with 
 more sincerity than he had hitherto put in his voice. "You 
 are an American; you cannot understand our point of view. 
 But even in your spotless and ideal land there have been 
 spies and traitors. They have been treated as Korvan will 
 be treated. I may mention Nathan Hale, Major Andre and 
 others. Now you, for instance, if you hadn't successfully 
 kept out of all intrigue, you might have been in prison 
 tonight in Karmania indeed, you would have been until 
 your Government could have looked after you."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 267 
 
 After offering a cigar to Crossdale, which was refused, 
 Karol scrutinized it, clipped the end with a gold clipper, 
 satisfied himself with the label and said: "Now that is really 
 very fine of you to have controlled your men in that fashion. 
 I expected it of you, however. When we left you, as we 
 have, quite free to come and go without any surveillance, 
 for this is the fact, we have given you your mail and per- 
 mitted you to write without censorship, we have proved our 
 entire confidence in you notably," said the Prime Min- 
 ister, "your comrade was taken and sent to prison, and you 
 remained free and unsuspected." He held Crossdale with 
 his cold serene look. 
 
 "I don't know why," said the American. "I have been 
 the boon companion of this man ever since we started opera- 
 tions on the road. I don't believe in your confidence not 
 a little bit, Prince Karol, but I would not be surprised to 
 find myself handcuffed before I leave the palace today. 
 Nothing would surprise me." 
 
 "Oh, you are too suspicious," shrugged the Prime Min- 
 ister, "far too suspicious! You should have more trust in 
 people who trust you. Now, for instance, I am sure you 
 would like to have some news of that missing negro." 
 
 "Jeff? you mean my man servant, Jefferson Robinson?" 
 
 "I dare say that that is his name it might as well be 
 that as another. But what a type! I promise you he is 
 not to be shot before sunrise!" 
 
 "Do you know where he is?" 
 
 "Here in Savia." 
 
 "Under arrest?"
 
 268 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 "Oh, not at all not at all. He is giving the most delight- 
 ful satisfaction in the role he is playing at present." 
 
 Crossdale had perched on the arm of a chair in a most 
 informal fashion. He sprang up. 
 
 "Your Excellency!" he exclaimed. "I warn you not to 
 lay a hand on that man, or you will be called to account 
 for it by the United States." 
 
 The Prime Minister put out his hand in the most soothing 
 fashion. "My dear Crossdale, don't be wrought up! I can 
 understand your friendly feeling about a man who has to die 
 the death of a traitor, especially when this man has been so 
 close to you; but we will return your precious negro to you 
 by parcel post one of these days. Don't you really know 
 what he is doing?" 
 
 "I don't," said Crossdale shortly. 
 
 Prince Karol threw his head back and laughed with 
 delightful enjoyment of the amusing situation. "Mr. Rob- 
 inson is one of the assistant cooks to the Queen, making 
 Southern Maryland chicken for Her Majesty." 
 
 Crossdale's jaw almost dropped. "Jeff Robinson cooking 
 for the Queen?" 
 
 "He came down from Pratz-Zenoe a fortnight ago with a 
 crowd of merrymakers from Roda. I believe he was part 
 of a traveling circus. He got very tipsy and they say that 
 on a wager he offered himself to the royal kitchens as 
 assistant cook." 
 
 "By Jove!" 
 
 "The chef took him on. The chief cook is a Hungarian 
 who has cooked in one of the big hotels in Florida in the 
 United States; he speaks American as well as you do, and
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 269 
 
 he likes negroes. Her Majesty does not know, of course, of 
 this addition to the royal cuisine but they say that she has a 
 great fancy for his Southern dishes. For the present, how- 
 ever, he will not be allowed to leave the family circle 
 downstairs." Prince Karol cackled appreciatively, the 
 softest kind of laugh, a maddening little laugh. "I hoped 
 you would see the humor of it. Captain Ugo will keep him 
 under his surveillance you may be sure that he is carefully 
 observed." 
 
 Crossdale murmured in a low voice a few things which it 
 was perhaps just as well that the Prime Minister did not 
 follow. Then he said: 
 
 "Frankly, this does not get across to me, your Excellency. 
 I believe you are using this poor chap to spy into my life. 
 I bet he is undergoing the third degree and doesn't know 
 it." 
 
 "Nonsense, Crossdale!" said the Prime Minister rather 
 sternly. "In order to prove our good faith to you as far 
 as this negro is concerned, he shall return to you at once 
 I will see that he meets you in Cye, where I understand 
 that you will return. I will speak to the head steward 
 about it myself." Then, in order to put an end to this topic 
 of conversation, the Prime Minister asked abruptly: "Now, 
 when will you run your first train through to Roda?" 
 
 Stephen sighed. He was not visionary and he under- 
 stood that he had been able to do nothing for Korvan. He 
 felt his utter powerlessness in this moment of such great 
 importance. His long spirited ride from the heart of his 
 mutinous men to the capital was for nothing, unless the
 
 270 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 letter in his pocket to the Princess Mariska could work a 
 miracle. He answered colorlessly: 
 
 "If I am not murdered or assassinated I will run a car 
 through in the spring." 
 
 "Spring begins early in Karmania." 
 
 "In May." 
 
 "Excellent!" The Prime Minister seemed to appreciate 
 this special cigar in a special fashion, turned it affection- 
 ately, almost smiling at it. "It is a long ride you have 
 taken, a long journey, Mr. Crossdale. I don't know what 
 hospitality you will find in the hotel, but they say it is 
 fairly comfortable. You will have to stop a night or so." 
 He looked indulgently at Crossdale's clothes. "You will 
 have to let us send you round some " 
 
 "Oh," interrupted the young man, "how can you speak in 
 this cold-blooded fashion, speak to me of conventions, your 
 Excellency? 'Shot before sunrise on Sunday' was the word 
 I got down at Cye, and I can't believe it's true! And you've 
 got a woman in the government, a Queen! Women should 
 have hearts!" he exclaimed. 
 
 Here the Prime Minister rose with more snap than he 
 had shown. "Her Majesty has nothing whatever to do 
 with death sentences," he said. "Karmanian law provides 
 for these possibilities of tender-hearted women Karmanian 
 rulers are often women." 
 
 "Well," exclaimed the young man definitely, "miracles 
 happen, and I have not given up hope yet. I didn't ride 
 here just to try to thaw you out, your Excellency. I had 
 another hope. Before I leave, if a mere democrat can aspire 
 to such a favor, I would like to see the Princess Mariska."
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 271 
 
 "Delighted!" said the Prime Minister, in the most cordial 
 manner. "I am sure she will be perfectly delighted to see 
 you." 
 
 "I just sent my card up," said the American simply. "I 
 dare say it was not court etiquette, but I have got to see 
 her if there is any way of doing it." And he waited. 
 
 The Prime Minister thawed now and came forward 
 to Crossdale. He tried to link arms through the ranchman's, 
 but he might as well have tried to encircle the town pump 
 the arm was as stiff as iron. 
 
 "Let's come into the peacock room. If you are going to 
 see a lady, it is an agreeable room, so cheerful." 
 
 Karol threw open a little door from the library, a door 
 set in the wainscoting. He opened it into the most beauti- 
 ful room that Stephen had ever imagined. The decora- 
 tions were peacocks peacocks on the ceiling, on the walls; 
 the furniture was white brocade, embroidered in glowing 
 peacocks; the color everywhere was a deep blue and pale 
 crimson and white. 
 
 "Now," said the Prime Minister, trotting across the floor 
 and ringing by means of a silken bell rope an inaudible 
 bell, "we will send word to the Princess that you have done 
 her the honor to ask for her. It is a quaint room, isn't it?" 
 
 Dazzled by the color and the beauty, the young American 
 was thinking: "I shall see her again now in this wonderful 
 and inhuman place! This is her setting, she is part of the 
 court, she belongs here, she is a Princess!" 
 
 He believed that the letter addressed to her in Korvan's 
 handwriting would work the miracle for Stanislas. She 
 would have power with the higher powers. This for Kor-
 
 272 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 van and then for himself. He had kissed her, he had held 
 her in his arms; he knew that she was a flesh and blood 
 woman, with senses and desires like his own! If she really 
 cared, if it had been anything but caprice, she would see 
 him! 
 
 He glanced down almost timidly at his rough dress. 
 "Gad," he thought, "I didn't realize what I was going to 
 look like when I called on her in the palace!" 
 
 The bell was answered by an English butler, a staid, per- 
 fectly conventional Anglo-Saxon. 
 
 "Will you tell the Princess Mariska that Mr. Crossdale 
 has called and that he is with me in the peacock room?" 
 
 "Beg pardon, your Excellency, but her Royal Highness 
 left the capital this morning for Pratz-Zenoe." 
 
 "Ah!" ejaculated the Prime Minister in honest surprise. 
 "We knew nothing of this whatsoever. Left the capital? 
 Her Royal Highness was here last evening, Parsons." 
 
 "Your Excellency she went with her personal servants in 
 great haste she went directly the news was received here 
 concerning poor Lieutenant Korvan." 
 
 "Very good, Parsons." 
 
 The man withdrew and the Premier turned to Crossdale 
 "I am so awfully sorry, my dear fellow," he said, "that 
 you should have come so far for such a wretched disappoint- 
 ment. But between you and me, I didn't know that you 
 knew my niece." He watched the young man's expressive 
 and mobile face cunningly. It seemed as though the lighl 
 had been struck out of the American. His heart and face 
 seemed frozen. 
 
 "Is it possible," he heard the Prime Minister say, "that
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 273 
 
 < 
 
 you have been such a great friend of Korvan's, his com- 
 panion, his associate, and did not know anything of his 
 sentimental life?" 
 
 Again as though Crossdale were some kind of waxworks, 
 who needed to be animated, the Prime Minister linked his 
 arm through the young man's iron arm and piloted him 
 toward a door at the other end of the peacock room, leading 
 out on the terrace. 
 
 "There is no reason why I should not tell you, although 
 I still think it is extraordinary that Korvan did not tell 
 you himself." 
 
 As this seemed to be a question, after which the Prime 
 Minister paused, Crossdale formed the words: "I know 
 nothing whatsoever about his personal life." 
 
 "He did not think you were interested in sentimental 
 things, I dare say American men are supposed to be 
 absorbed in business and not in love. Princess Mariska is 
 tacitly engaged to Korvan they have been madly in love 
 for years. Under these circumstances, you can imagine 
 what a frightful thing this is for the Queen's sister. Her 
 Majesty and I were discussing it together when your card 
 was brought up." 
 
 The young man whom the Prime Minister piloted along 
 seemed scarcely to move of his own volition. He was 
 stunned. Karol put his hand with apparent affection on his 
 shoulder. "Come," he said, "don't take Korvan's punish- 
 ment too much to heart. You know as well as I do that a 
 man cannot betray his country without paying the penalty. 
 The honor of a man's country and the honor of a woman
 
 274 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 are sacred things, and who play for these stakes pay with 
 their lives." 
 
 The Prime Minister was continuing his fine rhetorical 
 speech of which the Queen had made light. He liked the 
 sound of his own voice extremely. He was about to give 
 Crossdale his conge when three officers of the Royal Guard 
 entered at the other end of the room, their spurs noisy on 
 the blue-tiled floor. 
 
 "One moment," said his Excellency. "Let me speak with 
 these gentlemen. As it happens, they are to take in hand 
 the guarding of the line between Roda and Cye. We shall 
 watch the Royal State Railway as though it were a little 
 child." 
 
 These captains of the Queen's Guard made a brilliant 
 spot of color in their full-dress uniform, feathered casques 
 in their hands, green, white and scarlet, against the effec- 
 tive decorations of the peacock room. 
 
 The American merely glanced at them toy soldiers, 
 men of glass, painted mummers. In his heart was the stab 
 that had been given him. His house of happiness was fall- 
 ing around his soul. 
 
 The window in the door before him was wide open and 
 looked out on an ancient loggia, long, covered, extending 
 across the study and the private apartments of the Queen. 
 He looked out, slowly coming back to life, the things before 
 him only beginning to take shape. He would have to break 
 away from here, go away with this anguish in his heart, and 
 return, vanquished, to Cye, unable to move any of these 
 puppets by a human string. 
 
 As he stared, a woman came out on the balcony, followed
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 275 
 
 by a big wolfhound. Over a black dress she had thrown a 
 splendid cloak edged with sable. She was hatless and her 
 dark, fine little head was bared to the bright sunlight. Two 
 long earrings fell from her ears. 
 
 He saw her distinctly, could have spoken to her from 
 where he stood in the door of the peacock room. But she 
 was not looking that way. Immobile, she was looking out 
 over the plains toward Crossdale's mushroom-like tower. 
 With one hand on the head of the dog, she leaned, with the 
 other on the balcony, like a figure carved out of stone. 
 
 Crossdale, transfixed, with his emotions so varied that he 
 never hoped to set them straight, kept repeating to him- 
 self: "But the Princess Mariska isn't here she has gone to 
 Pratz-Zenoe. She isn't here!" He stared at the woman 
 leaning on the stone of the loggia as though he could never 
 look enough, as though he must make the picture real. She 
 was beautiful, she was gracious, she was royal oh, very, 
 very royal! But she was as truly the likeness of the chromo 
 over the taproom mantelpiece of his little picture at home, 
 as a woman could be. 
 
 He heard Prince Karol's steps returning to him, trotting 
 over the blue-tiled floor. Without turning his eyes to the 
 Prime Minister, the American caught his arm. Pointing 
 toward the loggia, trying to make his voice and words fit 
 together to express human sounds, he asked: "Is that the 
 Queen?" 
 
 He remembers riding down from the castle through the 
 town over the little, lumpy, sharp stones of those ancient 
 streets, between the close little houses huddled together;
 
 276 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 past public fountains, with the evening groups around them 
 of lovely children and lovely women, some of them veiled; 
 past lovers and past the homeward returning laborer. He 
 remembers riding down the hill with all of its noise and its 
 humming and its jargon, and its voices back of him like 
 strange barbaric music, like something sinister, something 
 unexpressed and yet vocal. He remembers looking back, 
 looking up at the little Karmanian city, the climbing city, 
 the hill city, to the castle with its twinkling lights. 
 
 He remembers his long ride home, through the cold 
 twilight and early night, to his desolate tower. He remem- 
 bers seeing it rise in the dark, holding up for him the light 
 in his study window like a beacon for his return. Then he 
 remembers going up the winding stair, following Serga, 
 going into his little study, where the dogs lay attentive for 
 his coming, and throwing himself down on the green leather 
 sofa and covering his eyes with his hands. Whether he fell 
 asleep, whether he had something like a syncope, he never 
 knew, because of that evening he remembers nothing else.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 THE EABL OF MORAY GOES STAUN'lN* THROUGH THE TOWN 
 
 "Your Majesty is quite right. Mr. Crossdale is not 
 under surveillance." 
 
 "Ah!" The Queen drew in her breath and held back her 
 natural expression of delight. She could not let Ugo see 
 what these words meant to her. But he saw. He had 
 heard too much of what had been going on in the Kingdom 
 not to understand. 
 
 "I thought not; I was sure of it." Her voice, rich at all 
 times and full of cadence, gave her away almost every tune 
 she spoke. From a corner of the dark wood chest on which 
 she had perched, her cloak fallen to the floor, her face 
 raised toward this servant of the secret service, Queen Kar- 
 men Mara had listened to what Ugo had told her of the 
 state of her kingdom, of Prince Sarvan's chances of escape. 
 She had listened to all the tremendously important things 
 which meant so much to her country, and at the end she 
 had put him a question. 
 
 From the balcony, after Crossdale had seen her standing 
 there, she had looked out until the portcullis of the castle 
 door had clanged and she had seen the American engineer 
 go riding down the primitive streets, over the big cobbles, in 
 his cowboy dress. She saw him go. She was taking a long
 
 278 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 farewell of him, with a heaving breast and a great anger 
 against him and herself in her heart. 
 
 Then he disappeared, and she wished that he had come 
 back again; that she had not let him go; that she had 
 shown him the letter and been only a woman and not a 
 sovereign. She remembered a line in an old Scottish 
 ballad: 
 
 "And long shall his ladye look from the castle down, 
 To see the Earl of Moray come staun'in' through the 
 town." 
 
 "You mean to tell me that Mr. Crossdale's letters come 
 and go freely to the States?" 
 
 "Ever since the first week of his arrival in Karmania, 
 your Majesty." 
 
 This man had all the Queen's attention, straining forward, 
 her expressive hands linking and unlinking their fingers. 
 
 "You were a spy, Captain Ugo, but I have trusted you 
 always " 
 
 "I thank your Majesty." 
 
 She sprang up. From a little desk in the corner of the 
 dark-ceiled little room, she took a Karmanian bank note; 
 she took one, she took two; she rolled them together. 
 
 "Ugo, take this put it away. Money is never a bad 
 thing to have." 
 
 "That which is given me by my Queen is a sacred gift. 
 I thank your Majesty profoundly." 
 
 She continued speaking rapidly, standing now in front of 
 the spy whose respectful attention was riveted upon her. 
 
 "It seems extraordinary that in times like these of revolt
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 279 
 
 and rebellion, strangers should be so free, without sus- 
 picion." 
 
 The spy smiled subtly. "I fell into disgrace when this 
 gentleman arrived, as your Majesty knows. Ever since, for 
 a selfish reason, in order to win back, I have watched him 
 with a special fidelity. The Prime Minister knows that 
 I am climbing back by my reports of Mr. Crossdale." 
 
 She nodded. "I know, I know." And her eyes asked. 
 
 The man responded to the silent question: "Mr. Crossdale 
 is a business man. He has nothing to do with political 
 intrigues. His ambition is to complete his railroad and go 
 back to America. My reports to the Prime Minister are 
 accepted without question. Although he has lived for 
 months with Lieutenant Korvan, and the Prince Sarvan was 
 found hidden in his cabin, all this does not touch him 
 I would stake my life upon it." 
 
 He saw her draw in her breath again with delight, with 
 relief, and he waited quietly. "You are surprisingly sympa- 
 thetic with this gentleman, Captain Ugo. I wonder why?" 
 
 "Most of us achieve freedom, your Majesty, in these 
 countries. Mr. Crossdale was born free. And I admire him 
 physically and mentally. I worship force and I worship 
 freedom; my fathers were serfs. My dream is to go to the 
 United States; he would be an invaluable friend." 
 
 The man standing patiently before his sovereign was the 
 only one in the kingdom who could set her mind perfectly 
 at rest. She took from her belt, where she had thrust it, 
 the letter the Premier had given her. She smoothed it out; 
 she handed it to Ugo. 
 
 When he had finished reading it, he looked at her. His
 
 280 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 expression, however, revealed nothing of his surprise. "It 
 is a lie, your Majesty." 
 
 "I knew it to be so at least, I believed it must be." 
 
 "A fraud to defame this gentleman in your Majesty's 
 eyes." 
 
 The spy was almost abashed to look upon the radiant 
 face of this woman in love, whose lover he was clearing by 
 his affirmation. He had always thought her the most 
 beautiful woman in Europe; but he had never dreamed that 
 she could look as she did now, so human, so glowing. He 
 turned away. He thought there were tears on the lids of 
 her eyes. 
 
 Then, fully mistress of herself, she added: "You must 
 give me proof, Captain Ugo." 
 
 "Mr. Crossdale has never written a line with pen and 
 ink since he came to Karmania; there is not a drop of ink 
 in the cabin where this is supposed to have been written. 
 He writes on a Corona typewriter; he signs his name with a 
 pencil. And the ink with which this letter is so carefully 
 written, your Majesty, is the ink which the Prime Minister 
 uses for his private correspondence." Ugo's laugh was 
 ugly. He hated Prince Karol; he would have given a year 
 of his life to see him fall. Everything he could say now 
 was in direct construction of the plan he had against 
 the Prime Minister. 
 
 "Horrible! Incredible!" he heard the Queen murmur. 
 
 "So many things are fair, your Majesty, when one has a 
 point to gain in politics or sentiment." 
 
 But she proceeded: "Had this letter been an authentic one 
 from Mr. Crossdale, would it have come into your hands?"
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 281 
 
 The spy shook his head. "No, nor in the hands of the 
 Prime Minister, either. The secret-service men are all under 
 my orders. No one tampers with Mr. Crossdale's mail." 
 
 A great rush of anger came over her against her uncle, 
 against herself for having for a moment doubted this man 
 to whom in the generosity of her nature she had given so 
 much, and whom she loved, and to whom she was ready to 
 give all. As though the moment were a rich one and for 
 which he had waited, out of which he was going to make all 
 he could, the spy said: 
 
 "Since we are speaking of Mr. Crossdale, and I have your 
 Majesty's gracious permission, I will tell you in a word 
 of his entrance into the country." 
 
 She bade him sit down. The spy did so, stiffly, on one of 
 the old chairs, leather-covered, bronze-studded, and the 
 Queen going behind her desk, sat there, elbows on the 
 table, and with her chin sunk in the palms of her hands, 
 listening to him as a girl to a fairy tale. 
 
 "When Mr. Crossdale left Tamaresk for Cye to meet 
 my caravan " began the spy. 
 
 She listened. She heard him tell of Crossdale's broken 
 journey; she saw him riding blindfolded to Jehanospelz; 
 she saw herself starting out with those servants who had 
 sold themselves to the rebel. 
 
 As Ugo told her all, she listened with crimson cheeks and 
 bright eyes, loving him more, admiring him more every 
 moment. It was a Tale of Araby, a tale of wonder and 
 delight to this woman, protected so carefully always, and 
 to whom, as to all women, deeds of courage and sudden 
 action appealed. His modesty, his reserve, the fact that he
 
 282 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 had done so much and claimed nothing, made him dearer 
 than ever to her. When Ugo had finished she asked: 
 
 "What has the kingdom done for Mr. Crossdale to repay 
 him?" 
 
 Ugo smiled ironically. "One of the peculiarities of the 
 Prime Minister's nature is not to repay services. Mr. Cross- 
 dale's are ignored, unknown." 
 
 Karmen Mara never moved from where she sat when the 
 spy left her. She was the happiest woman in her kingdom 
 at that moment, although the monarchy tottered. It could 
 fall to which side it liked. She was free free, that is, to 
 love. There- was nothing between Crossdale and herslf but 
 the enceinte of the little city in the rich plain. There he 
 was and there she was, without a barrier. Her thoughts 
 could go to him; and they went with a rush and a passion 
 that any man would have been proud to have awakened in 
 the heart of a woman. 
 
 She was sitting like this, musing, moved, wondering how 
 she could communicate with him before he should go to 
 Cye, when the tapestry on the door was lifted and Refan 
 Ugo again stood in the room. He brought a letter. "I met 
 the messenger on the stairs, your Majesty, and I craved 
 the honor of bringing Mr. Crossdale's letter myself to you." 
 He bowed and was gone. 
 
 Karmen Mara broke the seal. Within was the letter to 
 the Princess Mariska which Crossdale had come to the 
 castle to deliver in the hopes that it might save Stanislas' 
 life. Then, on another slip of paper not written with a 
 Corona typewriter, but indeed with a very soft pencil: 
 
 "When I was waiting in the peacock room to learn Kor-
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 283 
 
 van's fate and to give this letter to the Princess Mariska, 
 I saw standing on a balcony the woman I love, the woman 
 whose picture I bought when I was a young man in Boston; 
 the woman I have kissed and held; the one I want and 
 shall want until I die. 
 
 "They tell me she is the Queen of Karmania. God! I 
 wish she were a country girl who could come with me and be 
 my wife and my love! As she is the Queen, I hope that she 
 will spare the life of Korvan, if she can. And for my part, 
 although she is a Queen, I know that she is a woman with 
 a heart and feelings. I ask her to remember our kisses and 
 I leave my fate in her hands. 
 
 "Stephen Crossdale." 
 
 So Crossdale wore out the winter, hearing nothing what- 
 soever from Savia. He waited, although what he waited for 
 he could scarcely have told. He supposed that the Prime 
 Minister had told her that she was incognita no longer, and 
 she would expect him to look upon their romance as a 
 dream. 
 
 He never left Cye thereafter and absorbed himself in his 
 work on the railroad. That winter the snows were heavy. 
 He contrived snowploughs and himself superintended the 
 work in the absense of Korvan and his second superin- 
 tendent. The Savian side of the railroad he left in the 
 hands of O'Dell, and controlled the works at Cye himself 
 alone. But, curiously enough, since his visit to the capital 
 he appeared to have gone very high in the favor of the 
 Prime Minister. He had become the man whom Prince 
 Karol delighted to honor.
 
 284 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 The realization that he loved a Queen came upon him 
 with a strange dignity, a sense of being a man set apart 
 perhaps for tragedy, and certainly for renunciation. A 
 sense of delicacy, a sense of his own unworthiness of her 
 and of all it meant, kept him silent and apart. He made no 
 sign whatsoever. 
 
 Revolution slept for the time in Karmania. The little 
 kingdom was not yet ripe for democracy. Sarvanarof's and 
 Sarvan's names were no more heard. A moment of rest 
 passed over the kingdom, and the Queen became astound- 
 ingly popular. Her name was on every lip, her songs were 
 sung wherever there was voice and breath to sing them. 
 People made her a goddess, and the fame of her came over 
 the top of Mount Nepta. 
 
 In order to express to the engineer his new friendliness 
 Prince Karol (presumably he) commandeered Las Restaurus 
 for the engineer and Crossdale spent the winter in the 
 Queen's lodge. 
 
 She had prorogued Parliament; she had taken things in 
 her own hands, and was making a great impression on her 
 people. She went among them in native dress, gave them 
 concessions, left them their lands. And Prince Karol, in 
 order to hold the monarchy together, withdrew more and 
 more, and Queen Karmen Mara became the headpiece. 
 
 Stanislas Korvan was not pardoned; neither was he 
 executed. But he escaped from the prison in Pratz-Zenoe. 
 The fact of his escape proved to Crossdale how strong the 
 propaganda was of Prince John that the warders in the 
 prison were his creatures. 
 
 O'Dell came over by way of Pratz-Zenoe several times
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 285 
 
 during the winter, bringing news of the capital, of Queen 
 Karmen Mara's brilliant reign. 
 
 Meanwhile he had no news of Jeff Robinson, who seemed 
 to have disappeared off the face of Central Europe. Cross- 
 dale shot his bears in the snow, shot boars, and the furs 
 piled up in the fur room of the hunting lodge. But for 
 three days at Christmas he retired to his old quarters and 
 spent Christmas there with the memories of Sarvan and 
 Korvan, for her Majesty indulged a whim to pass the holi- 
 days in the forest. He never saw her, never caught a 
 glimpse of her, though she hunted and went sleighing on 
 the Steppes. 
 
 But he went back to Las Restaurus later, and there 
 was throughout the rooms the scent of violets, and on his 
 desk in his own rooms was a copy of her book of Kar- 
 manian folk songs. And the place was full of flowers 
 brought over from her greenhouses at the castle. There 
 were bowls and bowls of yellow roses. He began to admire 
 her as a Queen, her triumph in the kingdom, and he was 
 obliged to put aside his own part in her existence and to 
 crush down his memories. 
 
 In the first days of the year, among his American letters, 
 postmarked from New York, came a letter to him from 
 John Sarvanarof. The Prince thanked him warmly for the 
 work he was carrying on for Karmania; he thanked him for 
 the future of the country and told Crossdale that he was 
 serving the cause of democracy. 
 
 In closing, Sarvanarof sent greetings from Sarvan and 
 Korvan and himself. 
 
 "The man's madl" the American thought.
 
 286 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 He burned the letter and wrote to Storm: 
 "I have no time to look for oil. I shall run my first cars 
 through from the capital to Roda end of April or beginning 
 of May, then all the other Johnnies can do the rest. As 
 soon as I see daylight through my tunnel, I'm off for the 
 U. S. A." 
 
 In April he had taken up his quarters again in his old 
 brown tower, to superintend the final operations from the 
 Savia side of the tunnel.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 WHEN THE BOYA-DUC COMES FROM THE FAS COUNTRY 
 THE WOMAN WILL DANCE WITH HIM THOUGH IT BE 
 OVER HER HUSBAND'S GRAVE. (KARMANIAN PROVERB.) 
 
 No spring had ever been to him what this spring in Kar- 
 mania was. When he had come over to the capital the 
 whole place was as lonely as a deserted bird's nest, for the 
 Queen was in Paris. As every smart woman should do, she 
 had gone to the Rue de la Paix to buy clothes. It was 
 more or less a relief to him to know that he should not 
 pass her driving or riding. He had grown to accept her 
 silence as a thing she had determined for them both. This 
 was his fate to love a woman so high above him that he 
 could never possibly win her. It would have been better to 
 have loved a barmaid? Ah, chi zaru? as the Karmanians 
 say, which means: Who in heaven or earth can tell? 
 
 He saw from his brown tower the bloom break over the 
 flat country. Town and mountain and little nestling farm 
 were all curtained off by pink and yellow blossom. The 
 plain became a mass of coral and young green growth. The 
 forests opened up their cedar chests of pungent scent. 
 
 Altogether it was enough to make a young man mad. 
 Crossdale leaned out of his little window, quite drunk with 
 the joy of living, because he was strong and young, and he 
 was not ashamed of the passion in his veins. As the late 
 April air met him he said: "I have slept too long in Cye.
 
 288 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 What is she that she should not be loved? I have been a 
 coward! I will write her again." 
 
 The little capital climbed up its hill toward the fair sky, 
 and the whole country conspired to make him forget that 
 he was anything but a lover. Class and distinction seemed 
 but the most foul man-made things, and only the primitive 
 feelings of heart and senses worth creation. On the castle 
 the flag was at half mast, because Karmen Mara was in 
 Paris buying lovely clothes. 
 
 He had danced all winter at Cye and Roda; he was a 
 past master in the native dances. He led the whirra with 
 the best Boya-Duc in the kingdom. The dancing festivals 
 were being held everywhere now, in every little town. It 
 was a springtime custom, to dance because one was young 
 and glad and the blood in the veins running like the young 
 sap in the trees toward life and its expression, new birth, 
 rebirth, fecund and natural living. 
 
 Crossdale loved the Karmanian peasants because they 
 were beautiful and because they were her people; and he 
 had kissed many a girl under her veil, and kissed the grave- 
 eyed, free-lipped women, too. The young ones, with heavy 
 braids and a knife in the garter, were shy, but the veiled 
 married women were another story. 
 
 Savia had been sleeping all the winter under the snow, 
 as he had been sleeping at Cye, and now warming to life. On 
 the plain within a stone's throw of his tower a circus, which 
 had been in winter quarters at Pratz-Zenoe, was driving in 
 stakes, fetching in show wagons, putting up red, yellow and 
 white tents like a gaily colored striped bouquet. From his 
 tower he could watch all the proceedings. There were
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 289 
 
 sweetmeat fakers, crude, vulgar little shows, and long aisles 
 of attractions of all kinds, for the circus promised to cover 
 a quarter of a mile of space. The show was on its way to 
 Cye and Roda and beyond. 
 
 Already the Savian boys in stiff white skirts and Savian 
 girls with their thick dark braids grouped around the waltz- 
 ing bears. All the shows began with a long salute to Her; 
 everything was preluded with "Heljenf" and Crossdale 
 echoed it. 
 
 A morning's ride across the plain, Heidi-Luc, the prettiest 
 town he had ever seen in his life, was to celebrate the 
 Queen's birthday. He had seen the hut where she had been 
 born, with the hole in the floor for the fire and the single 
 window, all kept sacred like a shrine. 
 
 There would be festivals all over the country now in the 
 spring, and not the least important was to be the big cele- 
 bration at Roda when his first passenger train should trans- 
 port the cabinet from Savia to Roda. The whole province 
 would rise up and celebrate. It made him laugh to think of 
 it. He could laugh now; he had been able to ever since he 
 came back to Savia. He was young; he was alive; he had 
 learned how to love; he had learned what it is to have one 
 motive force for everything in the world. Over and over 
 again he said to himself: "It isn't given to every man to 
 love a Queen! Cost what it will, I will tell her so!" 
 
 He dressed himself in his ranchman's dress to ride over to 
 Heidi-Luc for the Queen's festival. In riding breeches and 
 boots, in a thin flannel shirt, a bit of pear bloom in his 
 scarf and a rabbit's foot in his hat, he rode to Heidi-Luc 
 across the green land.
 
 290 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 The women of the long braids and the black eyelashes 
 and the free lips, with lovers and husbands and sons, came 
 on foot and in oxcarts and in mule carts from the country. 
 Every pretty girl and every fine young peasant in Heidi- 
 Luc and thereabouts was abroad, gathered around the rustic 
 platform, listening to the players of the rodza, the native 
 flute, sweet as honey in its tone, and with notes like the 
 dripping of water in a silver basin, and the fiddle and man- 
 dolin, besides curious antique instruments known only to 
 Karmania and her frontiers. Stiff skirts were stiffer and 
 whiter than ever; tarbushes red as poppies, bright as flame, 
 and the embroidered jackets seemed all just off the 
 embroiderer's frame. 
 
 The Queen's little house was almost hidden by trees of 
 blossom propped up against it, until it seemed one blossom 
 itself in the little town. 
 
 The American, on his horse, at one side, unobserved, 
 appeared passive, but he felt one with them and ready for 
 the festival. When the "Heljensl" had died into silence the 
 dance began, and the clicking feet and the melancholy minor 
 music mingled in mad orgy of sound. The Queen had 
 always come to Heidi-Luc to dance with the Syndic it was 
 her custom. But this year she was in Paris. 
 
 The engineer had not decided whether or not he would 
 dance; he was waiting for an inspiration. Meanwhile he 
 watched the whirling, whirling skirts, the red, yellow, blue 
 and black shoes, the twinkling feet, until the whole picture 
 swam before his eyes. 
 
 A cart drawn by two white oxen, garlanded with blossoms, 
 came slowly through Heidi-Luc and up to the platform.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 291 
 
 There were two women in the cart, and the one who was 
 veiled wore a white dress embroiderd in black and gold, 
 and a short black jacket embroidered in black and gold, soft 
 black shoes with high heels and a little round cap on her 
 dark little head. 
 
 As the cart came up she sat watching, whilst her com- 
 panion, a blonde girl in dress embroidered in red and blue, 
 sprang out and running up the steps of the platform, began 
 to dance with much will and abandon. A murmur of 
 pleasure and satisfaction ran through the crowd, but there 
 was no demonstration whatsoever to indicate that they were 
 royal guests. 
 
 The girl was blond and blue eyed and Crossdale knew 
 her from her picture, which he had seen in the restaurant in 
 Cye. The Syndic was her partner. She danced well, but 
 there was nothing extraordinary about her performance. He 
 nodded to the peasant near him, who was saying: "It is 
 her Royal Highness, the Princess Mariska!" gave the man 
 his horse to hold "And yonder " crowed the man, but 
 Crossdale did not wait to hear. He watched until the 
 Princess perfunctorily made the gesture of throwing herself 
 against the Syndic's breast. He touched her brow rever- 
 ently with his hand which had touched his lips, and she 
 disappeared from the stand. 
 
 Then the engineer saw the other woman leave the oxcart, 
 run up the steps of the platform, reach it as though she 
 had been blown upon it by a breath of spring, hi her white 
 skirt, with its embroidery, in her black coat and her black 
 shoes. It was the treja girl, the girl of the Steppes, the
 
 292 THE QUEEN OF K ARMANI A 
 
 woman of the yellow rose His Woman, whom he had 
 kissed and held! 
 
 Her veil, fastened around her head by a gold tape, was 
 short to her chin and blown a bit from her face, and he 
 could see her cheek and her dark crisp hair under her cap. 
 
 She raised her arms with the castanets, took the tradi- 
 tional pose of the invitation and began to dance the whirr a. 
 The crowd watched her in breathless silence; according to 
 custom the Queen was never cheered in her native town until 
 she gave the signal. 
 
 The American watched a first-rate performance, for Kar- 
 men Mara danced like a professional. The peasants began 
 to go wild, to cry to her, to applaud her, to call her in their 
 picturesque language their bird their little daughter 
 their little rose their little sister! And their excitement 
 reached her. 
 
 At the first notes of the whirra, as the rodza calls the 
 invitation, Karmen Mara, looking around for the peasant 
 Boya-Duc, beat her small black feet on the boards of the 
 platform. The Boya-Duc is supposed to answer the invita- 
 tion. Flinging down his sombrero, with one bound Cross- 
 dale was on the platform, facing the Queen, in the pose the 
 Boya-Duc takes when he responds to the call. 
 
 There was a breathless pause, a murmur, half discordant, 
 unfriendly, for this was the Syndic's special honor. But the 
 dancer threw down her cap, threw back her head and shook 
 free her hair, that was short to her neck in dark curls, 
 nodded, and the next thing Crossdale knew he was dancing 
 to the barbaric music of the whirra, the partner of the 
 Queen to the flute, the tambourine, the violin, and the
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 293 
 
 temperamental, barbaric music that he had loved, with 
 which he was familiar, and which he had followed through 
 little Karmania from town to town. 
 
 The melody, the crying and the calling, ran with the 
 fire in his veins, beat in the blood in his cheeks, made his 
 breath short and catch him; he parted his lips to take in 
 more freely his delight. Heidi-Luc never saw a dance like 
 this, for the man and woman went mad in it. If the Queen 
 were a wonder, so was her partner, hi his riding boots, in 
 his soft shirt, hatless, full of life and full of the passion of 
 the dance and the passion of the moment. 
 
 As the dance progressed the whirra grew wilder, more 
 tempestuous, madder, and when the moment came and they 
 had danced around each other until the world seemed to 
 swim, he felt that there was no moment in life worth living 
 for him if the Queen did not end the whirra with its tradi- 
 tional climax and throw herself upon his breast. 
 
 But his dancing partner seemed as charmed as he; excite- 
 ment gained her as it had gained Crossdale. She was a bar- 
 barian, born of the Steppes themselves; she was the woman 
 of the hunt, and the woman of the sledge ride. Passion and 
 life were as inborn hi her as are the light and the sun to 
 the universe. 
 
 She had lived on the memory of his touch and his kisses, 
 and as she threw herself for a brief second against his 
 breast, as the music called and then fell into silence, it 
 seemed to him that he could never breathe again without 
 her near him, and that if he had to let her go he would die. 
 
 He tore off her veil, bound as it was across her hair by 
 the golden band, stared down into her face, at her parted
 
 294 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 lips, at her shining eyes. He was only a dancer, the Boya- 
 Duc of the festival; the eyes of her people were on them! 
 
 He said in a low voice: "Karmen Mara I have found 
 you! Little Queen!" 
 
 She was apart from him again, had given the signal and 
 the "H el jens!" filled the air and seemed to swamp them and 
 to bear her away, mad with joy. 
 
 Tingling from head to foot, his brain full of stars, wet to 
 the skin, his shirt clinging to him like a rag, he leaned 
 against one of the supports of the platform until his senses 
 should reel into place. It had been the wildest, most won- 
 derful moment of his life. 
 
 He saw the Queen run down the steps, rejoin her sister at 
 the rustic vehicle, with the crowd at the very skirt of her 
 dress, and he watched her with happy eyes. Nothing on 
 God's earth could take this from him, if he never saw her 
 again. 
 
 Some one told him that the Queen wished to speak to 
 him. As he stood by the side of her oxcart she leaned over 
 her sister, resting her arm on Mariska's lap, and he saw her 
 near, saw again that vivid, brilliant little face, all lit now 
 by the fire in her, the excitement. 
 
 "How do you do? IVe so often wanted to meet you! This 
 is my sister, the Princess Mariska." 
 
 And he realized and could have laughed aloud at it 
 that he was being formally presented to the Princess whom 
 he had thought he loved, formally presented by the woman 
 for whom he would have died and whom he had held in his 
 arms. Why, the world had gone mad!" 
 
 "How wonderfully you danced the whirr a I You must be
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 295 
 
 Karmanian. You will be a famous Boya-Duc where did 
 you learn?" 
 
 Was that her voice? Yes. He had heard it in his sleep, 
 it had called to him in the cold winter nights, in his lonely 
 mateless room, when he had gone to his rest wanting her 
 and when he had wakened and felt that the days would 
 never be days until he could see her and speak. 
 
 "I have been dancing all winter," he said. "I have 
 reversed the fable, haven't I? If I've danced all winter, will 
 it mean that I must starve all summer?" 
 
 He could be gay. He looked from one to another of the 
 sisters. They were both laughing with him. 
 
 The Princess Mariska, in conventional, colorless English 
 said: "Stanislas Korvan told me much about you. I feel 
 as though I knew you. Americans are wonderful dancers." 
 
 He rode alongside of them by the oxcart across the plain 
 to the foot of the hill, where he put her sister and herself in 
 the carriage that waited for Her Majesty, with its four 
 horses and two postilions and a mounted guard.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 MR. RAT COMES TO TOWN 
 
 Jeff Robinson had disappeared again, from the castle, but 
 Crossdale believed neither Karol nor Refan Ugo when they 
 told him that they knew nothing of the negro's where- 
 abouts. He was frightfully concerned about the man, and 
 wrote to put the matter in the hands of the authorities at 
 Bukarest. 
 
 One afternoon with boyish interest he watched the circus 
 outspread on the plain before his tower window. There was 
 no need for him to put his eye to a hole in the canvas; he 
 could look directly into one of the rings over the roofless 
 brown tent. He could see as though from a box the beauti- 
 ful lady in scarlet going round and round on her traditional 
 white horse, whose progress was impeded by the clowns. 
 
 The barracks and the shanties of his own yards were 
 a bit beyond the circus. The smoke rose from his engines; 
 he heard the whistles tooting over the banging band. Peace 
 had entirely gone from the beautiful Karmanian plain. 
 
 But he could not put Jeff Robinson out of his mind. 
 What the devil had the man done? Run after some native 
 woman, of course! He understood the negro's vanity and 
 his love of wealth; he was always trying some turn at a 
 lottery, some game of chance. Only his master's influence 
 kept him from gambling away everything he had.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 297 
 
 Crossdale remembered very distinctly Robinson's extraor- 
 dinary interest in the possibilities of the Karmanian oil 
 fields. He knew that one of Jeff's weaknesses was for read- 
 ing his letters and he left them around as little as possible. 
 But he was perfectly sure that Jeff had possessed himself 
 of all the information regarding the Western Transportation 
 Company's plans for accumulating wealth in Karmania. The 
 little portfolio in which he had kept a series of letters from 
 Storm had disappeared with Jeff. But how in heaven's name 
 could he use any of this information he wondered, as he 
 leaned against the window sill, watching the clowns in the 
 ring. 
 
 One big fellow amused him mightily. In white, once 
 clean, a peaked clown's cap, face whitewashed like the side 
 of a house, there was something familiar in his poses. Then 
 a tune of the band caught Crossdale's ear. He hummed it 
 before he realized that he knew it well, and that Jeff used 
 to sing it to the banjo on the ranch. 
 
 "Mr. Rat has come to town, um urn " 
 
 To this spiritual announcement the big clown waltzed 
 like a tee-totum. It seemed awfully strange to hear this in 
 the Balkans! 
 
 "To get his wife a wedding gown " 
 He could almost hear Jeff's voice singing it. 
 "What shall the wedding breakfast be?" 
 
 This was the last performance of the country circus hi 
 Karmania. It had been all through the provinces. Cross-
 
 298 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 dale had heard of it everywhere. It was a Roumanian' 
 circus, three ringed, enormous, and with hundreds of 
 people. Because of the extremely fine weather they had 
 unroofed the rings. 
 
 As soon as they could pack up their paraphernalia, box 
 up the snakes, they were going to proceed to Cye, Roda, 
 and from thence out of the country. 
 
 "Mr. Rat has come to town 
 
 To get his wife a wedding gown " 
 
 Poor old Jeff Robinson must have been near the winter 
 quarters of these people, at Pratz-Zenoe. They had stolen 
 his song from him. He would go over to see them, inter- 
 view them, find out something about the negro. 
 
 "What shall the wedding breakfast be? 
 A piece of bread and a cup of tea." 
 
 Poor old Jeff! He must have followed this circus like a 
 boy! 
 
 The big clown threw handsprings on his white gloves and 
 soft shoes out of the ring and disappeared. Then Cross- 
 dale wheeled. "Gad! Isn't that the best ever!" 
 
 Some one rushed upstairs. He opened the door. "Hello, 
 Boss! Howdy, Mister Crossdale?" 
 
 He had expected to see Jeff Robinson one day or another, 
 but never like this. His whitewash was marvellous; nowhere 
 would he have passed for a negro, except for the big red 
 lips. His face was working, however, with emotion. With 
 his big flat feet in their soft white shoes, his flapping hands 
 in their dirty gloves, he was pathetic, he was ridiculous.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 299 
 
 "Jumping Moses!" exclaimed the Californian. "Go and 
 get those filthy duds off you, Robinson! What in 
 thunder ?" 
 
 As the man showed no signs of moving, Crossdale con- 
 tinued: "Hurry up go into the next room and clean up if 
 you can!" 
 
 "No, no, Mister Crossdale." The clown shook his head. 
 "No, no, Boss. Ah can't stay a minute yo'll hab to let 
 me go, b'lieve me I couldn't lebe now ah'm all tied up wid 
 dat bunch ob spo'ts. It means life and death ef ah don't 
 keep ma contract." , 
 
 "Contract!" said Crossdale furiously. "What the deuce 
 do you mean by taking on any contract but mine? I'll 
 have you transported thrown over the frontier, Robinson! 
 You've got to come to your senses, man! Take those 
 things off or I'll kick you out of them. And now tell me 
 where my letters are from Mr. Storm. Where is my little 
 red wallet?" 
 
 "Why," said the negro, with wide open eyes, "now yo' 
 don' go fo' to t'ink ?" 
 
 No, Crossdale could not. There was that in the sweetly 
 modulated voice, in the man's face, that made him trust him 
 against all appearances. 
 
 "Think, damn you! I don't have to think I want to 
 know!" 
 
 "Ah don' hid dem in de Cye cabin under de bricks ob de 
 chimley floor. Yo'll sure find dem all dere." 
 
 "What for, you fool?" 
 
 "Why, suh," said the negro, "yo' sure ain' de only person 
 dat's got 'n interest in dose wells, Mister Crossdale."
 
 300 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 Just then from without the band took another turn at 
 "Mr. Rat," and the negro, as though it were a signal to him, 
 dropped on his knees, rolled the whites of his eyes, and 
 blubbered: 
 
 "Ah've got to go back! Ah've got to go back! Right 
 away, or yo'll be shot up and ah will to! Ah'm attached 
 to dis circus. It wouF make a book ef ah tol' yo' all, an' ef 
 ah stay here wid yo' now, Mister Crossdale, dey'll hab me 
 liver and me lights." 
 
 Crossdale looked at him in frank surprise. "You make 
 me sick," he said. But he saw that the man's excitement 
 was running high. 
 
 Jeff went on: "Ah '11 shake de whol' bunch ober at Roda 
 nex' week, trus' me as fur as Roda, Boss dat's all ah ask." 
 
 Crossdale was furiously angry with the man. "I'm going 
 to have you arrested! I'm not going to let you leave this 
 tower!" 
 
 The man had risen to his feet and was slinking toward 
 the door. 
 
 "I bet it's some wretched little side-show girl!" Crossdale 
 said. "Some miserable little native woman here, you fool!" 
 
 The man burst into unexpected giggles and covered his 
 mouth with his hand. "Boss," he said, "yo're on, yo' sure 
 am on!" 
 
 "Get out," said Crossdale, irritatedly. "I expect you'll 
 turn up somewhere before I get on the boat for home. But 
 you can take it from me, Jeff Robinson, I would not be 
 surprised if the next costume you get into would be a 
 striped suitl"
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 KARMANIA HAS HER WATERWAYS AND CROSSDALE 
 A RENDEZVOUS 
 
 April saw the tunnel and the railway completed as far as 
 Roda, and Crossdale was free to leave Karrnania, with its 
 traditions, its seditions, its beauty, the perfect setting that 
 it made for the one woman in the world. 
 
 The news of the opening of the Royal State Railway 
 spread the country around. From the hill hamlets and from 
 the plain cities peasants arrived on foot, on mule back, in 
 oxcarts pilgrims to worship at Crossdale's modern shrine. 
 They camped on the plains, spent nights on the road, and 
 trooped to the capital to stare at the mechanical toys that 
 the western world had manufactured for them and to gaze 
 spellbound at the mouth of the tunnel as it opened towards 
 Cye. 
 
 The railway would be soon ready to carry products of 
 the country westward, and the waterway opened to Kar- 
 mania at last. When the waste had been removed and the 
 ends of the rails bitten into each other and clicked, and the 
 track cleared, the Prime Minister gave orders to prepare 
 a gala train to transport the members of the court and the 
 Queen to a formal opening at Roda. There would be a great 
 banquet at Las Restaurus, at which Crossdale would be 
 the guest of honor.
 
 302 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 But, as Crossdale knew and the Prime Minister knew, 
 every man on his staff knew, things were not good in the 
 Kingdom, not good at all. Unrest had culminated; there 
 was constant warfare between the royal troops and Sar- 
 vanarof's brigands. No week passed without more or less 
 decisive battles. Sarvanarof's forces were being fed from 
 the Russian border. Public buildings had been blown up in 
 Pratz-Zenoe, hostages taken, plots discovered throughout 
 the country to abduct the Queen. And it had not been with- 
 out great hesitation that Karol finally decided to permit any 
 demonstration regarding the opening of the road. It had 
 been voted in Parliament, however, that such a demonstra- 
 tion, with the presence of the Queen and the Ministers, would 
 be salutary. 
 
 Although workmen had been on strike throughout Kar- 
 mania, not a man had ever knocked off work on the rail- 
 road, where everything seemed under special protection. 
 Nothing had hindered the building of the road since Cross- 
 dale had taken it in hand. 
 
 He had written to the Queen. He wrote in English and 
 Karmanian. He was deeply, passionately in love, and he 
 told her so, forgetting that she was a Queen. He sent a 
 letter to her by Serga at an unearthly hour in the morning 
 to the palace. After it had gone, he suffered and cursed 
 and swore and kicked himself for an ass, and was happy 
 about it and glad of it all day. 
 
 At night, at another unearthly hour, the Queen's mes- 
 senger brought him an answer. No woman in San Francisco 
 would have sent an answer like that to her lover! In a big, 
 creamy looking envelope, stamped with green wax, was a
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 303 
 
 filmy, perfumed veil, caught by a golden tape. He knew 
 that it was the veil which he had taken from her face at the 
 whirra. He slept with it in his palm, pressed against his 
 lips. 
 
 Her wordless answer to him inspired mad and wonder- 
 ful letters from his heart and senses. Crossdale in these 
 revealed himself to this woman almost unknown to him in 
 a way he could never have done by spoken word. She had 
 enchained his mind and his soul. He had responses from 
 her, responses, but not letters. The yellow leaves of a 
 fresh rose, scattered in an envelope; a verse from the song 
 he knew so well. With these golden communications between 
 himself and the castle he was obliged to exist until the 
 opening of the State Railway. 
 
 Jeff Robinson had disappeared completely about a week 
 before and as soon as communications were established 
 between Cye and Savia the circus went to Roda, and Cross- 
 dale amused himself by watching the defile of the pic- 
 turesque paraphernalia of the circus animal cages, the 
 circus people, the brass band, roaring and in great form, 
 until its noise was drowned by the tunnel. Above the 
 clamor and the "Heljensl" Crossdale imagined that he could 
 distinguish the strains of "Mr. Rat," but he was probably 
 mistaken. 
 
 As he watched the barbaric show go by and realized 
 that this was the first thing to take road by his tunnel, he 
 was vastly amused. San Francisco and Caleb Storm what 
 would they have thought of it all? 
 
 A week later his train-de-luxe lined up second best to 
 the circus, if the circus had anything on it at all! Out of
 
 304 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 the electric engine the Tartar driver leaned, in his bright 
 blue shirt and tarbush. He was smoking a five-inch cigar. 
 The engine was invisible for the green and white bunting, 
 the Queen's colors, and the flower wreaths and garlands 
 that decorated it. 
 
 Then followed the improvised passenger coaches, open 
 cars with green velvet seats, hung with flags bunches of 
 the Karmanian flag, green and white striped, with a black 
 wolf in the corner, symbolic of Rome and the Steppes 
 eight little coaches, ready to transport the pick of the court 
 to the first station on the road, little Roda, with ten 
 thousand inhabitants, etc. 
 
 Over the plain, like a sea on either side, swarmed the 
 proper proportion of the populace for an event of this kind 
 swarmed enough of them to warrant the Royal Police 
 and the Royal Guard to cordon them off. But the crowd 
 was not enthusiastic as he had seen it in Karmania, and he 
 felt it. It was a silent, curious crowd, interested in the 
 tunnel, in the railroad, but not in the Government. It 
 would not have been possible to have thought otherwise. 
 The crowd was cordoned off, but Crossdale could see that 
 there was a good understanding between the people and the 
 military. The "Heljensl" were weak, and only when he 
 heard them shouting "Ameriguinous viva!" did their hearts 
 seem to be in their voices. 
 
 In tarbushes and stiff white skirts, floating veils, dark, 
 swarthy faces, the women and children in holiday dress, 
 taken from family chests or fresh from the embroiderer's 
 loom, they might have stepped out from the Karmanian 
 museum of antique costume.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 305 
 
 He wondered as he watched the people come and go and 
 press and crowd and surge toward the guards along the 
 road, what would happen to the Queen if the revolution- 
 aries were successful? Would it free her? Would she 
 then be a private individual? If the monarchy held on 
 would Karol give him his walking papers, or could he 
 remain? There were the oil wells to interest him. 
 
 He thought this all out in detail as he stood down near the 
 little grand stand. He could not bear to be seen staring 
 down the road where she should come. On the other hand, 
 he did not want to miss the impression when she did come. 
 So he pulled his short moustache, gave the wrong answers 
 to O 'Dell's questions and stared at his tunnel, whose arch 
 was completely garlanded with decorations and flowers; 
 and over the top was a mighty blazon with the Queen's arms 
 and the colors of the Queen. Within he could see the 
 electric lights, green and white, white and green, tapering 
 away. Around the mouth of the tunnel were grouped corps 
 of the Queen's Guard in full-dress uniform, riding their 
 Cossack stallions. 
 
 As the band of the Royal Guards struck up the Kar- 
 manian national hymn, he saw six victorias, drawn by gray 
 Ukraine hcrses, each horse ridden by postilions, come fret- 
 ting along in truly royal manner, and the guests disem- 
 barked from these ancient wheel ships at the "band stand" 
 as Crossdale mentally called it. He saw them go up and take 
 their places Queen Karmen Mara and some twenty min- 
 isters and officials in uniform and civilian dress. The stand 
 was full and Crossdale, whose place was there, had been 
 too transfixed by the sight of her to move.
 
 306 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 Prince Karol began immediately to make a formal 
 address, flowery and voluble, accompanied by suave gesture; 
 he adjured the people to be loyal to their Sovereign. But 
 presumably the master of ceremonies did not deem the 
 moment propitious for such adjurations, for the band broke 
 into music and drowned the Prime Minister's speech with 
 its trumpets. 
 
 Then Crossdale found himself standing between the 
 Queen of Karmania and her Prime Minister and asking: 
 "What shall I say to them, your Majesty?" He heard her 
 murmur: "Oh, one can always say 'God bless you' and some 
 little human message." 
 
 Crossdale stood out like a man at the platform rail, 
 smashed his hand down on the flowers and hit a couple of 
 thorns through the roses, and gripped them until his palm 
 bled. He started off in a fine clear voice, in honest Kar- 
 manian. And he will never forget it, until he is a man of 
 eighty, in far San Francisco or any good old American 
 town he will never forget it. 
 
 He said: "God save the Queen 1" and then he said: 
 "Heljen/" And the response that this effected told him 
 that he had spoken well. And he called out to them collec- 
 tively: "Skarervaro batuchit" and smiled his Irish, humor- 
 ous smile, and he was young and strong and good look- 
 ing and happy and in love, and had finished their tunnel for 
 them; he was popular, and they laughed and shouted and 
 treated him as a popular speaker should be treated before 
 he leaves the platform. 
 
 Then she went forward to the rail. He heard her voice in 
 its delicious tones and in the gracious words of her language.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 307 
 
 She smiled on her people; extended her hands to them. And 
 his eyes blurred and his face grew hot; and he wished he 
 might have been a little boy to have cried without shame. 
 And it made him wild and furious to see that they did not 
 respond as he could have wished, although they warmed to 
 her more than they would have done had she not followed 
 his little speech. 
 
 Afterwards they were borne off, some thirty of them or 
 more, in the special train; the little cars went bumping and 
 humping and cogging along on the narrow gauge road into 
 his tunnel, through Mount Nepta. 
 
 Princess Mariska was not here for the opening of the 
 State Railroad. She had been gone from the kingdom ever 
 since Korvan's imprisonment; you heard of her in Paris, in 
 London. 
 
 The Prime Minister asked many questions of Crossdale 
 regarding the scientific operations of the excavations. The 
 Queen was silent. Finally they saw the daylight; the arch 
 grew larger and larger, and Cye and Roda waited for them, 
 waited to greet them as Savia had greeted them. The 
 Syndic of Cye, with the usual accompaniment of homely 
 little girls with bouquets of flowers surged up to the Queen's 
 car. They were surrounded by the committee of welcome. 
 
 Queen Karmen, Mara leaned down over the car to the little 
 girl who handed her an immense bouquet of heartsease. 
 She said to Crossdale: "Hold my flowers for me a moment, 
 will you, while I kiss this little girl?" 
 
 And as the American took the bouquet he took with it 
 something that was unmistakably a letter, and understood it 
 was for him. He transferred it to his pocket.
 
 308 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 But for him the glory of the day was gone from Cye 
 to Roda, from Roda back to the hunting lodge, where a 
 banquet in the form of a high tea was prepared for them at 
 four o'clock, it all became the usual tiresome boring busi- 
 ness of a popular festivity. The speeches, the music, were 
 an unspeakable bore. 
 
 Two things, however, were real. As Karol and Cross- 
 dale and the assembled party refreshed themselves under the 
 trees at Roda, a red carpet was spread down on the ground 
 and four acrobats from the circus treated them to some very 
 good wrestling, and in one fashion or another a message 
 found its way into Crossdale's hand, as the Queen's had 
 found its way there. It was from Jeff. 
 
 "Boss, look out for to be in your own cabin tonight at 
 Cye. I will be there to meet you before dawn tomorrow. 
 Don't you miss me, Boss it's life or death." 
 
 Crossdale turned the letter over, musing. He would go; 
 he would certainly be there to meet this man and reckon 
 with him. He did not know that nothing on earth could 
 have made him meet this appointment or any other, but he 
 found it out when he read the Queen's letter that afternoon, 
 in his old room at the lodge, Las Restaurus, when he went 
 in to make a toilette before the banquet. 
 
 "I have gone back to the capital in order that you may 
 meet me. You can build roads; you can find your way 
 back over them. I will be in your tower at eight tonight, 
 waiting until you come."
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 "HELJEN: THE QUEEN" 
 
 Throughout that evening, during the feast, he could think 
 of nothing but the fact that he was going to see her again, 
 and soon. He knew now why he had come to Savia, why 
 Storm had dug him out of his isolation; he knew why he 
 had been spared death a dozen times in his life in order 
 that he might live for once like this. The wonderful part 
 of it all was that she wanted it in this way, that it was her 
 gracious and heavenly idea! He could have kissed the hem 
 of her dress in adoration of her goodness. She was a queen 
 
 true enough. A million times and far away better 
 
 than anything else she was a woman. 
 
 The hunt dining room at Las Restaurus had never looked 
 more beautiful. Although it was still daylight, in order to 
 create a false darkness for the banquet, the room was all 
 shut in and brilliantly lighted. The customary service of 
 highly polished pewter was used, and rare flowers had been 
 imported for the occasion, and the fruit dishes, even in 
 springtime, were stacked high with forced fruits straw- 
 berries, peaches, nectarines, all from the royal greenhouses. 
 The wines, the smoke of the cigars and cigarettes, the 
 laughter and the high spirit of satisfaction that prevailed 
 with these men, gathered to celebrate the opening of the 
 railroad, made an atmosphere that seemed to palpitate
 
 310 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 around Crossdale and to create a penumbra for his mental 
 and sentimental excitement. 
 
 The cabinet ministers, men high in the army in short, 
 every one whom the Prime Minister wished to honor, were 
 present at the feast and the American wondered how much 
 they understood of the really rotten condition of the king- 
 dom, of the danger threatening the present government. He 
 glanced around at the serene faced officials who seemed to 
 him smug and contented with themselves and the time. He 
 did not believe they could ever gather up the ravelling 
 threads of royalty; the tapestry of old custom and tradition, 
 Stephen felt sure now, could not hold together much longer. 
 
 As he looked from face to face, he thought of the head of 
 the revolutionaries, as he had seen him last at Jehanospelz, 
 lying bandaged on his couch, vibrant, strong, alive with 
 ideals of freedom. Prince John seemed the coming man to 
 the American, and amongst those present no one was equal 
 to Sarvanarof in bearing and in presence. Prince John's 
 promise to appear at this time to celebrate the opening of 
 the railroad came back to his mind vividly. It seemed a 
 challenge from the republican. Would he keep his word? 
 
 During the past months he had heard much of the dis- 
 turbances throughout Karmania. He was thinking of all 
 this when the Minister of War, Count Fan Streloa, leaned 
 over to speak to Prince Karol, including the engineer in his 
 gesture that commanded attention. 
 
 "Before we lose ourselves, your Excellency," he said, 
 with a smile, as though he anticipated the loss that it was 
 going to be as far as he was concerned, "before we forget 
 ourselves in the exhilaration of tonight, I wish to recall to
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 311 
 
 your mind the measures I have taken to ensure tranquility," 
 with a slight and deprecatory gesture, "and as your Excel- 
 lency knows, for the moment all I can promise to do. Pre- 
 sumably from Roumania Prince John has enlarged his 
 forces. Yesterday there was a very vigorous skirmish on 
 the plains south of Jehanospelz, to our advantage, and I 
 have stationed fifteen hundred men and more along the 
 line to the west. I think there is not the slightest danger 
 that he will advance with his brigands for the present. Yes- 
 terday's whipping was a sound one. He lost at least a 
 hundred and fifty men." 
 
 Every one present listened intently, but the Prime Min- 
 ister was calm, and he seemed so thoroughly to understand 
 the situation and so ready to "lose himself" as he lifted to 
 his lips his brilliantly polished pewter goblet, that the 
 others, with a sigh, settled back to their enjoyment. Prince 
 Karol's face was grave. 
 
 "Long live the Monarchy!" he cried, and rose, the table 
 rising with him, en masse. "Long live the Queen!" 
 
 And with this the "Heljens/" were all unchained and ran 
 from one guest to another. Crossdale had never heard such 
 enthusiasm, never heard her name cried out with such ardor. 
 And as he too hailed her, with so many blended feelings in 
 his heart, he did not know that never again would he hear 
 this cry raised for Karmen Mara, that it was the last he 
 should ever hear in Karmania. 
 
 The Minister's short, perfunctory speech which followed 
 made little impression. 
 
 The air was surcharged with foreboding, however, to 
 Crossdale. He was confident that there was a crisis at hand.
 
 312 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 A banquet in Karmania is no light matter. The court had 
 waited for this celebration for many months. It was a 
 national event. Tonight it was positively nauseous to Cross- 
 dale to see them gorge, for gorge they did. He was a man 
 about to enter paradise, and vulgar feasting meant nothing 
 to him; and he would not have touched a drop of alcohol for 
 anything in the world. He knew that he must keep his 
 brain clear in order properly to execute his sortie. He did 
 not care to study his companions and feasters, but the room 
 in which they sat seemed to him very delightful and attrac- 
 tive tonight, blazing with light, glowing with color, and the 
 majestic heads of the children of the forest, put out of exist- 
 ence by man's selfish love of sport stag, deer, wolf, bear 
 looked gravely down on the hunters through the candles' 
 glory and through the smoke. 
 
 The Prime Minister was in full dress uniform, of white 
 broadcloth and tunic covered with silver brandebourgs and 
 decorations. His close little beard shone like a silver beard, 
 and his fine, flexible hand caressed it from time to time. 
 But tonight he was very grave, and now and then he leaned 
 over and spoke in an undertone to the Minister of War, 
 whom he had placed on his left hand. He seemed, now 
 that the American had completed his work, to entirely forget 
 him, But this difference meant little to the young man, who 
 asked nothing better. Lifted up as he was by the wings 
 of desire and passion, he had nothing to do with his fellow- 
 men It seemed to him that the feast would never, never 
 progress, as he waited for these men to fall under the influ- 
 ence of their wine. Their brains must be clouded before he 
 could venture to leave the feast. He was guest of honor
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 313 
 
 and though already no longer an object of interest, he must 
 be sure that his absence would not be observed. 
 
 He had no intention of leaving the house by the front 
 entrance, where the servants, guards, treja drivers and a 
 crowd of retainers and soldiers were stationed for a mile 
 along the road. But Crossdale had not spent six months in 
 Cye and its environs without knowing the forest path, and 
 he knew that he could find his way. Impatient, restless, he 
 thought to himself: "God, if I miss this happiness well, 
 there won't be anything left in life to me worth a candle." 
 
 In the winter garden the court orchestra was playing the 
 fojk songs and martial airs, and the music alone seemed 
 friendly and intimate, to understand his mood and his 
 excitement. He heard the Queen's songs and the pretty 
 dance tune to which he had danced at Heidi-Luc, when she 
 had thrown herself upon his breast. Nothing in the world 
 could have come to him more delightfully than this barbaric 
 eager music, which stimulated him and inspired him. He 
 must go! 
 
 Now that the railroad was opened, the Minister of Com- 
 merce was saying, they would begin immediately to cut 
 timber and rush it through to Austria and beyond. Desecra- 
 tion, Crossdale thought. All the forests around this lodge 
 should be sacred. He had kissed her under those pines and 
 cedars for the first time! Those pink-trunked trees had 
 seen the first of his bliss! No axe should ever touch them 
 if he could have his way. 
 
 Even if he should find a treja ready, or a horse, it would 
 take him two hours to reach Cye, and after that an hour or 
 more to go through the tunnel. If he did not find a- hand
 
 314 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 car which he could manoeuvre himself, he would have to 
 walk, over refuse and debris and through the mud; but he 
 knew every foot of the way. Had he not made it? Go 
 through he would, if he had to crawl. 
 
 They were beginning their series of toasts and gave "The 
 Queen" again, and it took several seconds for the echoes to 
 subside. On fire, trembling, no one knew how the toast 
 appealed to this stranger. Crossdale cried out "HeljenI" 
 with the others. 
 
 What would Prince Karol, the Minister of Foreign 
 Affairs, all of them, the grave old Johnnies, beginning 
 already to feel their wine, what would they say if they knew 
 that in a few hours the Queen of Karmania would be in his 
 arms? Personally he felt so set apart from them, so sur- 
 rounded by some sort of magic enchantment, that he could 
 hardly believe he was in the flesh. 
 
 When they had remembered him sufficiently to lift their 
 glasses and give "Mr. Crossdale," and this too had died 
 away in silence, he felt that his time was coming. After a 
 few seconds, when they were all engaged in discussions in 
 little twos and threes, red faced, and the wine was flowing 
 like blood and sunlight, he pushed his chair gently from the 
 table and how he could never have told in a few seconds 
 found himself in the corridor. The soft radiance of the day- 
 light smote him gently, but it was cold and pale after the 
 unreal glare of the surcharged room. 
 
 Stephen stretched his arms wide, thanking high heaven 
 for his release. He rushed into his little sitting room, 
 where his things were waiting, took his cap and stick and a 
 pocketful of cigarettes, felt as he had a way of doing in.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 315 
 
 Karmania for his hip pocket, and what he wanted was 
 there; and without being observed or challenged by any 
 one, he found himself out in the weeded paths leading down 
 to the stables. He did not need to go all the way down to 
 the dependencies, full now of servants carousing and of the 
 trejas which had brought in some hundred guests, for in 
 order to make room for the others, tethered to a little bar- 
 ricade, were two or three of the Queen's treja horses, little 
 stallions, tied far enough apart from each other to be safe. 
 They were bridle-less and innocent of any saddle, but this 
 was what the American preferred in the way of transporta- 
 tion. It would awaken no interest; it could tell no tales. 
 
 He stroked the soft nose of the little beast nearest him; 
 he caressed the satiny neck; then bent down and whispered 
 into the silken ear the Karmanian term of endearment of a 
 beloved horse: "Mas felona my little bird." 
 
 He loosened the stallion. Riding such as this was like 
 native air to him. In a few moments he had flung his leg 
 across the bare back of the beast, clinging to him as he 
 reared and plunged. 
 
 There had been during the work on the railroad a timber 
 trail cut from Cye to the Queen's lodge. New dependencies 
 and buildings had been planned by the Queen for her forest 
 house, and, too, they had been cutting timber and carrying 
 it by ox and mule cart along this rough trail. But Cross- 
 dale knew it well. It was rough going, but a perfectly 
 possible way for a horse to take. This path he found and 
 for two hours rode through the pale spring night, not meet- 
 ing a creature or disturbed by any human element between 
 the lodge and the village.
 
 316 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 As he rode the owls called to him and asked him who he 
 was and whom he loved; and Crossdale laughed out to them 
 as he rode on his beautiful adventure. The night hawks 
 circled low down, close to his head as he rode, flying like a 
 primitive man, clinging close to the back of his mad little 
 stallion. Once or twice he thought he heard in the far dis- 
 tance the bay, the melancholy cry of the wolf mother, 
 already fecund, and calling forth into the night her exulta- 
 tion in the fulfillment of her destiny. 
 
 And the young Calif ornian thought as he rode: If this 
 is the most mad and unwise thing in my life; if it is going to 
 bring me anguish and sorrow later; if I die for it in spite 
 of all I am glad! "Heljent" he murmured close to the ear 
 of the little stallion. 
 
 And it was well after nightfall when he saw the furtive 
 sparks, the little lights of sleepy Cye.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 THE CUP AT THE LIPS 
 
 It was midnight before he saw his tower rising like a 
 brown lily on the plain and heard from the belfry twelve 
 sonorous peals. In that part of the castle where was the 
 belfry were the royal prisons, set apart for political suspects. 
 Prince John and Prince Sarvan had both been held there, 
 until the Queen's generosity had set them free to plot 
 against her afresh. 
 
 He made his way by meadow paths across the spring fields 
 to his slender tower, rising black in the fair night. There 
 was no light to indicate that any one watched for him 
 within. The plains, peaceful and pastoral, slept under the 
 starlit sky. The scene suggested only peace. And the jewel 
 city of little Savia rested tranquilly on its hill, a deepset 
 light burning here and there. 
 
 He had come stealing through the sleeping town of Cye 
 like a thief, on foot, setting his stallion free at the edge of 
 the forest. He had struck it once on the flank and the 
 little creature had charged back across the forest road in the 
 direction of Las Restaurus. Whether the stallion ever 
 munched the grass with his fellows again Crossdale never 
 knew. 
 
 He had been obliged to pass by his own little office at the 
 railroad yards, and to his surprise he saw a light burning.
 
 318 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 He wondered who was there, and for what purpose? That, 
 too, he never knew, for he did not go to see. Nothing in 
 the world could have delayed him or kept him from forging 
 ahead toward the other end of the Nepta tunnel. 
 
 It struck him even then curiously that there was not a 
 guard in sight, not a man, not a creature. The little train 
 on which they had come through that day stood side- 
 tracked. Even the lights, burning always, white and green, 
 in the tunnel, were out. The place was in total darkness; 
 there was not a light switched on. What could it mean? 
 
 To have gone to the electric plant to have informed him- 
 self would have taken time. He made his way to the entrance 
 of the tunnel, prepared to walk through, when he saw stand- 
 ing on the track a hand car, the same type of little dummy- 
 car on which he had ridden to Roda with the Queen. This 
 should be his carriage. 
 
 He sprang on it, started the brakes, when, at the 
 entrance of the tunnel, just as he was about to plunge into 
 the total darkness of the mountain way which his science 
 and skill had opened, he was seized around the waist by a 
 man's strong arms and in Karmanian some one said to him: 
 
 "Give the countersign." 
 
 But the guard had seized the wrong man, the wrong man 
 for him. He caught Crossdale round the waist, but he had 
 left the young man's arms free. In another moment the 
 American had freed himself by striking the man's chin up, 
 almost breaking his neck. Whether he did so or not he never 
 knew. The man fell back, tumbled, and Crossdale ran after 
 his car, which had continued its voyage some few yards 
 into the tunnel.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 319 
 
 He heard a shot fired, but it was not until he was well 
 along, and he felt the blood, that he realized that he had 
 been hit. The wound was slight. He sucked it, took his 
 handkerchief and bound it up as well as he could. It was 
 nothing a scratch. And he had been able to hike his way 
 through, to pump his way through, to drive his little 
 dummy-car from one end of the tunnel to the other with no 
 further adventure. When he had thrown himself off, leaving 
 his car on the rails at the tunnel's mouth, within a few 
 hundred yards of his tower, he was dripping with perspira- 
 tion, dirty, panting, bloody, and like this he ran to her. 
 
 Alongside his eagerness to see the Queen ran his 
 terrible anxiety for her future and her safety. The country 
 was on the verge of revolution, passionate, stormy he 
 would not have been surprised at any moment to hear the 
 bells from those belfries ring the tocsin. Even now the 
 vibrant notes of midnight, whose pulsations seemed unwill- 
 ing to die on the evening air, were ominous to him. 
 
 His tower was deserted. But Queen Karmen Mara had 
 royally commandeered it for tonight for their wonderful 
 adventure and she would find a way to enter and leave in 
 secrecy. Was she not the Queen? 
 
 He opened with his key and pushed in the deepset, iron- 
 nailed door on to darkness. Nothing betrayed light in the 
 ancient mouldy shell, and he crept cautiously up the wind- 
 ing stairway, feeling his way in the dark. 
 
 At the top of the stairs under his door a golden line of 
 light lay along the floor like a thread dropped from the web 
 of romance. He pushed the door in, his heart pounding 
 hard against his side soiled, dusty with travel, his injured
 
 320 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 hand bound with his handkerchief, now stained with blood, 
 hatless a pilgrim of love at the shrine at last, and stood 
 looking into the room. 
 
 The Queen of Karmania had cleared his table to cover 
 it with a gold woven tapestry cloth. On this she had spread 
 a little feast in silver dishes: wine, a cold bird, bright 
 peaches like suns. In the same kind of dress the women of 
 her people who in their passion throw themselves upon their 
 lover's breasts have been used to wear for hundreds of years, 
 she sat swinging one high-heeled red-shod foot. Smoking a 
 cigarette, her cheeks carmine, her eyes shadow and fire, she 
 watched the door. 
 
 Karmen Mara had done a mad thing and she knew % and 
 liked it none the less for this. Life had been created for her 
 hitherto by others; less than most people she had made her 
 fate. Taken from the people to satisfy the caprice of a 
 selfish man, she had been forced to follow the groove for 
 which she had not been originally intended. Now for once 
 in her life she determined to have her way. Come what 
 would, cost her what it might, she had calmly decided to 
 take for herself out of life its greatest treasure. 
 
 She did not move as the American came in, remaining as 
 she was, one hand on her hip, the other holding the cigar- 
 ette to her lips, calling out to him across the room in her 
 rich voice: "Skarervaro batuchol Stranger, rider, welcome! 
 Welcome!" Then exclaimed tenderly, leaning forward and 
 staring at him: "But you're hurt! You're hurt!" 
 
 The stranger who had come from far, who had asked 
 none of the glory of the kingdom, nothing but love, had his 
 apotheosis then. Swung up to the highest pinnacle of sensa-
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 321 
 
 tion and, as at one time or another all climbers feel, he was 
 sure that he had made an ascension never reached by any- 
 one before. He went over to her where she sat on the table, 
 and put his arms round her. He held her closely, but kept 
 his bloody hand away that it might not stain her white 
 bodice and said: "Oh, no, not hurt healed." 
 
 No love story since Eden tells so well as the Book of 
 Genesis the incident and the adventure of love. "Adam fell 
 into a deep sleep." The mystery of the woman, the 
 mystery of mating, is only a dream. 
 
 As he looked back at that dazzling time, it always seemed 
 to Crossdale a vision, unique, transcendent, and above 
 everything else intangible. 
 
 Close to the fireplace, before the table, ran a deenset sofa, 
 covered with old green velour. Crossdale broke his dream 
 with a sigh, both her hands in his well hand, the light on 
 his face and brow which transfigures a man in a woman's 
 eyes. His left Land bound in a napkin, part of the royal 
 linen chest, of damask-like satin. She had bathed his hand. 
 The operation had taken long, although the wound was deep. 
 
 He told her from beginning to end what he knew of the 
 revolutionary forces, speaking rapidly, intensefully; of 
 Jehanospelz, Prince John; he said he believed in Prince 
 John's lucky star. He spared her nothing, looking at her 
 intently. She sat close to him, listening, half-defiant, wholly 
 attentive, and more than sceptical. 
 
 He dwelt upon the unrest throughout the country; what 
 he knew of the activity of Prince John's spies. And then he 
 told her of the impression made upon them all by the speech 
 of the Minister for War.
 
 322 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 "I may be wrong," he said. "Years of your peaceful gov- 
 ernment may prove me an alarmist. But I think the time 
 is ripe. I would not be surprised if the blow fell at any 
 moment. And," he said, looking at her fixedly, "if it does, 
 if this republican chief becomes the President of Karmania, 
 what will happen to you?" 
 
 Karmen Mara shook off everything he said as though it 
 were a bad dream. She put both her hands on his shoulders, 
 looked into his eyes. She could have made him forget 
 everything in the world, but he would not let her and 
 returned her look steadily, earnestly. 
 
 "You must think of it," he said, "you must think of it. 
 You must be ready." 
 
 He lifted both her hands from his shoulders and held 
 them tightly. "Now," he said, "so much for Karmania and 
 its transformations. After all, your country is only follow- 
 ing in the line of the others. It's progress, and no one can 
 help it. But I don't want you part of these transforma- 
 tions. I come from a big democracy; there are few puppets 
 with us, or marionettes. We are simply a people of one 
 class really from coast to coast. You are not royal ; there is 
 not a drop of royal blood in your veins any more than there 
 is in mine. You come from the people; you were born free. 
 Why, in God's name, shouldn't you return to freedom? My 
 coming tonight," he continued, with great charm of sim- 
 plicity and frankness, "looks like a big adventure, like the 
 wild recklessness of a man in love with a woman, no matter 
 what she is, no matter what he is. I am not a prince of the 
 blood, but I am able to offer you quite a little kingdom in 
 my own country." He smiled. "Hundreds of acres of rich,
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 323 
 
 yielding land, a fortune, everything an honest man can give 
 to his wife." He stopped. He saw her pale. "I want to 
 protect you, to care for you, and after all, it is only a 
 man's right, isn't it, to ask the woman he cares for to come 
 with him, to follow him?" 
 
 Now she drew her hands away from him, and he let her 
 go, watching her; he saw a shadow fall across her face and 
 she said abruptly: 
 
 "What a dear you are, Stephen Crossdale! So American 
 and so sweet! Why, you talk as though you could make 
 dreams come true! Even if there should be trouble in my 
 country, do you think I would leave my people and go 
 away?" 
 
 In the light of the candles, the brown old room's glow 
 and shadows round her, big-eyed, bright-cheeked, graceful 
 and adorable in her peasant dress, she might have been a 
 girl in masquerade. The whole thing seemed unreal but her 
 eyes and her lips and the touch of her. 
 
 "Ah, but when Prince John is President of Karmania they 
 won't be your people, you will owe them nothing." He threw 
 his arm around her shoulders, drew her to him and kissed 
 her many times. 
 
 "Shake this crumbling old dust from your feet and go 
 or rather, come, my dear." 
 
 Karmen Mara sprang up. She changed with wonderful 
 rapidity from the woman to the Queen, and in a second she 
 seemed cruelly removed from him, as though a gulf were 
 fixed between them. She played with the heavy stuff of the 
 cloth on the table at her side; hard and heavy it lay between 
 her finger tips. On the table were the remains of their dis-
 
 324 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 turbed feast a little wine in the glasses, the pips and the 
 skins of the delicious peaches. He watched her. She was 
 pale, her lips trembled. She was not hesitating; she was 
 wondering how to tell him. 
 
 "I am not frightened in the least, of what you tell me of 
 the disturbances in Karmania," she said. "A Queen is not 
 supposed to have ordinary emotions. Before I go on, 
 before I say what I am going to say, you must believe that 
 I care for you." He would have rushed to her; but she held 
 him back. 
 
 "Please let me speak! When the King took me from the 
 people and made me Queen of Karmania, he gave me a royal 
 gift which, unless they tear it from me, I shall never lay 
 down." With a fine lifting of her head she said: "Certainly 
 never from fear," and added, "not even for love." 
 
 A great anguish seized him. His madness and folly, what 
 this would mean to him later, rushed over him. He had put 
 his soul in this woman and leaving her for ever would mean 
 spiritual and mental death to him. But he said, with laud- 
 able control: "Then it is merely the old story of a man who 
 loved a Queen? Romance is full of such folly, but when it 
 comes to one's self, reading story books does not make it 
 any easier to bear." He asked her with great simplicity: 
 "What do you want me to do?" 
 
 "Ah," she said, drawing a breath that seemed like a 
 breath of relief, "I want you to go of your own free will, 
 before you are thrust out of the Kingdom by the Prime Min- 
 ister's command. You don't know Prince Karol; he is 
 intrigant, very subtle. Your passports are already signed. 
 Now that you have accomplished what he wanted you to do,
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 325 
 
 he has no further use for you. Promise me that you will 
 understand, in the name of tonight, promise me you will go 
 as soon as you can." 
 
 "No." he said quietly, "I will not go and leave you to the 
 mercy of events." 
 
 "You must," she said. "You have no choice in the 
 matter. If I had not known that you would be out of Kar- 
 mania in the next few hours I should never have let you 
 come tonight. Can't you understand? This is something 
 that has been snatched by us both. You must go!" 
 
 Infuriated at his own impotence with what he saw was 
 fate, he cried: "You dismiss me as you would a valet!" 
 
 And Karmen Mara blazed out at him: "You have no 
 right, no right!" 
 
 He caught her to him again, holding her until it seemed 
 as though there were only one of them in the shadow. 
 Before for she seemed to yield, she seemed to return into 
 the circle of his embrace and magnetism before he could 
 urge anything more upon her, or formulate his fears and his 
 dread of Prince John, the first sound that had broken the 
 isolation or the silence around them, made them both start. 
 
 "Listen!" she said "Listen! It is the changing of the 
 guard at the castle. It is their bugle. I must go it is 
 nearly morning. What if they should find me here? It 
 would mean your ruin! Help me to get out of your window, 
 the window of your bedroom, the way I came in." 
 
 She snatched up from the sofa, where they had been sit- 
 ting, a long black cloth cape, such as the peasant women 
 wear on Sundays, buckled the big silver buckle. She drew 
 its hood over her head and, wrapping it round her, fled from
 
 326 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 the studio through his bedroom, and he helped her out of the 
 open window, on to the little winding outside staircase, con- 
 cealed by the thick old ivy vines, a way of descent only to 
 be made by some one who knew it well. 
 
 He did not attempt to follow her, understanding too well 
 what it would mean to her to be found there with him. But 
 he watched her dark slender figure, with peaked hood, like a 
 fairy cape, descend the winding staircase until it was lost 
 in the darkness of the vines and the night.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 ZITO'S BLOOD TOKEN 
 
 When she had gone, he threw himself down before the 
 table, and with his head on his arms gave himself up to a 
 moment of impotent despair. He could have raged, he 
 could have wept. He wanted to fight the fates, to tear the 
 web of circumstance apart and find an every day man's 
 solution to the problem of his life. But his moment of self- 
 absorption and of rebellion was short, cut in twain by a 
 sharp silver sound, the crying of a bugle, a long bright call, 
 and an answer. 
 
 He sprang to his feet. The first notes came from the 
 direction of his tunnel, and the answer from the enceinte of 
 the city. These were the signals he had been mentally bark- 
 ening for, the response to his question as to where were the 
 forces of John Sarvanarof. 
 
 There was a sound of the clattering of steps upon the 
 stairs. His door was struck in and a motley looking figure 
 fell into the room. Crossdale half caught him in his arms, 
 and Jeff Robinson sank down at his feet Jeff, almost 
 unrecognizable, hatless, covered with mud and dirt, a piti- 
 able object. 
 
 The negro lifted his face to his master, pallid in his excite- 
 ment, and his outstretched hands trembled as he held them
 
 328 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 up in supplication. It was like an anti-civil war picture of 
 a slave asking for mercy from a brutal overseer. 
 
 "Boss, why didn't yo' go to de cabin, like ah tol' yo' to? 
 Ah waited dere fo' yo' all night long. Ah could 'a got yo' 
 clear away from Cye, Boss! Ah had it all fixed up. Fo de 
 lub o' Gawd" 
 
 "Come," said his master, sternly, "get up! Pull yourself 
 together." He tried to draw the man to his feet, but the 
 negro crumpled like a rag, clinging to Crossdale's knees. 
 
 Now here was a thing on which he could wreck his dis- 
 tress and his wretchedness, and a man at bay always looks 
 for an outlet. He could have struck the man as he knelt, 
 and lifted his hand. 
 
 "Kill me!" said the negro. "Yo' couldn't kill me enough! 
 Only listen! Yo' got to git out ob hyar, Mister Crossdale, 
 somehow or udder, double quick!" 
 
 Crossdale forcibly drew him to his feet. He half flung 
 him on the sofa. He could not bear to look at him, and yet 
 something in the creature was so appealing, so pathetic, so 
 helpless, that it cooled his rage. He poured out a glass of 
 wine and gave it to the negro. "Drink this." 
 
 With his teeth chattering at the edge of the glass, Jeff 
 blubbered out: "Boss, dey sayde ef ah'd gine dem an' keep 
 dem posted on li'le odd jobs dey wanted, dey would come 
 up gran' at de en', boss. Dey 're a fat line ob hawgs! Dat's 
 what dey is! Dey's de meanes' bunch ob spo'ts ah ebber see. 
 But it's too late." 
 
 Bending above him, half inclined to shoot him as he sat 
 there, gurgling and trying to exculpate himself, Crossdale 
 said: "Don't talk to me about any one else but yourself!
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 329 
 
 You scoundrel, you fool! You have spied on me for them, 
 have you? You're not fit to shoot!" 
 
 "Boss," said the man, clasping his hands, "yo' dunno 
 what I done it foV 
 
 "I don't know where to kick you to if I did, you 
 wouldn't know at what speed you were traveling." 
 
 "Dey sayde," he heard the negro murmur, "dat ef ah'd 
 stan' by dem 'twill t'night, dey'd make yo' Presiden' ob de 
 New Republic." 
 
 The negro's idiocy, his weakness, his miserable bedraggled 
 condition, spoke for him to Crossdale's compassion stronger 
 than his words. He was a miserable fool, a poor tool, but he 
 was an American citizen and in a way he belonged to him. 
 He knew the negro type so well. In a flash he understood 
 how the others had played upon his vanity and his love of 
 display. He saw how the man was dressed, in the uniform 
 of Prince John's soldiers. He had some kind of ridiculous 
 decoration on his chest. They had tricked him out, laughed 
 at him, made fun of him, but used him all the while. More 
 than that, they had kept him away from his master for their 
 own reasons. 
 
 "President of the New Republic!" His master laughed 
 harshly. "Gosh, you're a poor nut!" 
 
 "Boss, I done crawled tru' de tunnel on ma belly to git 
 t' yo' t'night! I swum de ditch! I foun' a gyard midway 
 who di'n't want to let ma by, an' sure to Gawd he's drinkin' 
 up de dirty water as he lies. Ah sure had to come t' yo', 
 Boss." 
 
 "All right. Now that you have got that wine inside you, 
 get up. What's your idea, if you have any, for pulling out
 
 330 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 of here? But you are a damned tool of Sarvanarof I 
 wouldn't trust you to lead me to a church." 
 
 "No, no," cried the negro. "Yo' knows ah ain' a skunk, 
 yo' knows ah only did it fo' yo', Boss! You'se done de 
 fines' man in de world an' ah wanted to see yo' way up!" 
 
 His master looked round the room. He would not be 
 taken alive if they were going to take him like a rat in a 
 trap, and as he glanced about to see what point he could 
 make a vantage of, the negro caught his arm. "Hark!" 
 
 And now they could distinguish the sound of many voices, 
 cries and calls, and the advancing hoofs of horses beating on 
 the road leading to the town. Over and over again now to 
 them came from a thousand throats what Crossdale had been 
 waiting for for days, for months. "Sava, sava, Jehannos! 
 Sava Jehanos!" 
 
 He threw open the blind of the eastward window. Over 
 the plains the dawn was coming now, white and rose- 
 hemmed. On its hill Savia, cold and dark, lightless, erect, 
 rose solemn and toneless in the gray light. It fronted the 
 cries, it fronted the advancing troops of the rebel army as 
 the little hill city had done in the ancient days when the 
 hordes of barbaric invaders had broken the Roman sway. 
 
 As he looked up to the castle he saw the proud flag, which 
 fluttered always from the tower where the Queen's apart- 
 ments were when she was at home, hauled down. It fell, 
 fluttering, ruffling but it fell. And he saw the plains below 
 the city walls black with soldiers. The Queen's Guard, the 
 Royal Fusiliers all ready to meet their brothers in arms, 
 and to amalgamate in one big army of rebellion against the 
 monarchy.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 331 
 
 From belfry to belfry the bells began to call and answer. 
 Over the crashing and the jangling and the pealing the hour 
 of four rang out from one big bell. This was the tocsin at 
 last! Now he heard it, as he had expected to hear it, sound- 
 ing the retreat for the monarchical rule. 
 
 He went over to the other window, commanding the road 
 to the tunnel, and in the early light saw troops belching 
 forth like shot from the mouth of a cannon. They scattered 
 over the plain; they swarmed; they seemed indeed to be 
 a harvest of dragons' teeth. 
 
 And the Queen, Karmen Mara, the woman he loved? 
 
 Blind fury caught him like a beast at the throat. He 
 caught up his pistol and would have shot the negro like a rat 
 then, but as he turned from the window to do this, found 
 himself alone. The man had gone. 
 
 He tore open his bedroom door, calling: "Jeff." 
 
 The man had probably made his way out of the window 
 through which the Queen had disappeared. Crossdale put 
 his pistol back in his pocket. Fly! Where to? Where 
 could he go like this? What would he fly to? 
 
 After all, what had he to fear? He was an American 
 citizen. He had meddled in no political intrigue; he was 
 not seditious; he had no politics. Meddled! He had done 
 something far more vital than this he had been the lover 
 of the Queen. 
 
 He was no longer simply a private person of absolutely no 
 interest. He had played a role, and the man to whom this 
 role would be a matter of importance was the leader of the 
 revolutionary movement, Prince John himself, the man who, 
 he had so often been told, loved the Queen of Karmania.
 
 332 THE QUEEN OF K ARMANI A 
 
 He looked about the little tower room at the table, with 
 its marvellous cloth, the glasses, the plates spectacular in 
 the pale light of dawn. 
 
 Under the table on the floor a tiny pocket handkerchief 
 lay, like a filmy web. He caught it up it smelt of jasmine. 
 He thrust it in his pocket; it was something of her for 
 him to take away. 
 
 He had just done this when the door burst open and two 
 soldiers, in command of Captain Zito, came into the room. 
 Zito saluted him, with a curious smile of triumph. 
 
 "Excellency," he said, "I have come. You see, I have not 
 forgotten. I have my friends with me. You will follow us." 
 
 Crossdale determined then and there that he would not 
 follow this man, not if he had to go down to the grave with 
 murder on his soul. He cast his eyes once more about the 
 room. His bedroom door was open. 
 
 But what was the use of flying from them? He leaned 
 on the table, with his hands back of him, his feet crossed. 
 
 "Follow you? To where, and by whose orders?" 
 
 Zito, without replying directly, nodded. "Do you hear 
 them, Excellency?" 
 
 Crossdale heard them. It would have been difficult not 
 to. The air without was vibrating with the huzzas and the 
 cries and that impressive sound of men half mad, cheering 
 an idea. 
 
 "The Prince is without," Zito announced with triumph. 
 "Las Preysidentanos is without, marching to the capital. The 
 welcome there will be royal for him." 
 
 "God!" Crossdale ejaculated between his teeth, thinking 
 of her.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 333 
 
 "I asked His Excellency for this great honor," the Kar- 
 manian continued, "the reward of taking the American 
 engineer prisoner. I have never forgotten you, and our 
 blood sign." 
 
 Crossdale played for time. "I see you were at the right 
 table, Zito you have the winning cards." 
 
 The man nodded back to the little window behind him. 
 "They have won, the great Republicans!" 
 
 It made Crossdale sick to think of shooting this man 
 without warning, but he was not going to be taken like a rat 
 in a trap without a fight. Behind him his hand was over his 
 pistol in his hip pocket. 
 
 "It was a great, great sight," said the Karmanian, "at the 
 lodge, Las Restaurus, the place where all those aristocrats 
 killed the defenceless* beasts," he chortled in his throat. 
 "Excellency, Lord, I was with the surrounding party." 
 
 ("Are they all dead?" Crossdale wondered. "What has 
 happened to them?") 
 
 But he did not ask. He was holding the little rotund 
 figure of the Karmanian in his vision; nothing that Zito did 
 escaped him. The man was very, very drunk ; twice he took 
 a backward step and his men sustained him. 
 
 "We have been following you, Excellency, Lord, all these 
 months. At Jehanospelz the President has laughed at your 
 adventures and your victories. But they will have an end, 
 they will have an end, and tonight is the end!" He made 
 a step toward Crossdale, with a hiccough. "Now," he 
 managed to get out, "it is the turn of the President of the 
 New Republic with the Queen!" 
 
 'Beast!" ejaculated the American, and as the man, not
 
 334 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 too drunk to see his movement of hand, drew his own gun, 
 Crossdale shot him through the heart. Zito fell as he stood. 
 
 Then the two soldiers loomed up a hundred feet high to 
 Stephen. As Zito fell he turned his gun on them. The 
 bigger fellow, lurching forward, struck him with the butt of 
 his little gun, but Crossdale caught only half the blow, and 
 smashed the gun out of the man's hand, and it fell crashing 
 against the wall. But he had disarmed the American, who 
 felt himself grappling with the man body to body. 
 
 Crossdale was a born fighter, and the half-drunken Kar- 
 manian, in spite of the American's left hand with its slight 
 wound, was no match for him. He thought that at any 
 moment the other man -would be upon him, but the soldier 
 had taken to his heels and clattered down the stone stairs. 
 
 As Crossdale grappled with the fellow, he felt the bandage 
 on his hand slip and the blood from his hurt began to flow. 
 It maddened him, and feeling the man's knife in his belt, he 
 was able to draw it violently from its sheath. He struck 
 the man between the ribs, and he fell, his blood spurting 
 over Zito; face down he fell upon his captain. 
 
 Crossdale caught up one of the napkins from the table 
 of their feast, wound it round and round his hand, knotting 
 it with his teeth, and flung himself out of the room, where he 
 had laid the plans to build a railroad and held a Queen in 
 his arms. He climbed out of the window on to the little 
 ivy-covered staircase and made his way down, as the Queen 
 and Jefferson Robinson had done. 
 
 What possible means was there for him now to escape? 
 He was a triply-marked man, with two deaths for his record 
 and the enmity and deadly hatred of the man in power.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 
 AMMETARO 
 
 At the bottom of the ladder he fell into the arms of Rob- 
 inson, and big as Crossdale was, and muscular, he was at a 
 disadvantage in the dark, surprised by the suddenness of 
 the grip. The negro's voice, close to his ear, whispered: 
 
 "Fo* de lub ob Gawd, Boss, de're all roun' us, but ah kin 
 git yo' free, swear to Gawd ah kin, if yo'll strip and put on 
 dis hyar uniform." 
 
 Infusing his words with all the authority of which he was 
 master, the American commanded him between his teeth: 
 "Damn you, let me free!" 
 
 Centuries of unquestioning obedience were in the tradi- 
 tions of the African, whose forbears were slaves, and as the 
 negro's arms released him, Crossdale drew a long breath and 
 turned on him like a maddened beast. He caught the fel- 
 low by the throat and shook him as though he were a rat; 
 he struck him once or twice violently and threw him from 
 him, so that Jeff toppled over like a bag of coffee into the 
 ivy vines, crashing as he fell. He would have shot the man 
 then, but he did not wish to draw attention to his hiding 
 place by a shot. 
 
 He had hardly thrown the man from him, cursing him for 
 a treacherous skunk, when he heard the sound of approach- 
 ing voices. Half a dozen men rode up, commanded by an 
 officer in the regimentals of Sarvanarof . The man in charge
 
 336 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 threw himself off his horse, glancing from the American, 
 breathless, hatless, dishevelled, to the negro, who was not 
 unconscious, pulling himself up by the vines. The Kar- 
 manian said in English: 
 
 "Mr. Crossdale, of the Royal State Railway, I believe? 
 You are my prisoner, sir. Go," he ordered two of his men, 
 "and help that man over there to get on his feet." To Jeff 
 Robinson he nodded: "You have done well, my man, excel- 
 lently, excellently! The President will reward you; you 
 shall have every protection. The guardians of the new 
 Republic have orders to arrest you, Mr. Crossdale, wherever 
 you may be found. Will you hand over your arms?" 
 
 "Don't," said Stephen Crossdale, "let me see that negro 
 servant of mine again! I warn you that I will shoot him on 
 sight if I ever get this into my hand again." He gave over 
 his gun. "I didn't know I was of so much importance in 
 Karmania! It sounds as though I had been really doing 
 something, instead of opening the way for you to come 
 through." 
 
 They did him the honor of incarcerating him in the bell 
 tower, in the beautiful room set apart for distinguished 
 prisoners, and he believed that somewhere above him Kar- 
 men Mara was herself a prisoner. From this turret the 
 royal flag had fluttered down, and in its place the banner of 
 the new Republic played with the winds. 
 
 Except to fetch food and drink, no one had been near 
 him since his imprisonment. There was an excellent bed, a 
 writing table with every furnishing for correspondence; 
 there were a few books, a comfortable sofa, a wooden floor, 
 and a tiny window, which Crossdale could reach by stand-
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 337 
 
 ing on a chair; it gave the round room the look of a cell. 
 The door, heavily curtained on the inside, was of iron and 
 bolted. 
 
 He was dulled. For some hours he had slept, his head on 
 his arms, dressed as he was. But the morning brought him 
 no hope, or even interest in his own fate. He could only 
 think of Karmen Mara. 
 
 He did not believe that even these barbarians would 
 execute an American citizen out of hand; and the legation 
 at Bukarest would make inquiries for him. He had small 
 concern for his own safety, in any case, although he had an 
 idea that John Sarvanarof would do what he wanted with 
 no matter whom; there would be nothing in the world easier 
 than to put him out of the way quietly. They could inform 
 the United States that he had been blown up by a bomb, 
 that he had perished in the debris of some building that 
 had been destroyed in the upheaval of the country. There 
 would be a dozen reasons which could be given at such a 
 time as this, the unmaking and remaking of a state. Ger- 
 many had not declared war upon Karmania because of the 
 murder of Baumgarten, and in what way was he better 
 than his predecessor? 
 
 But could he have got away scot free he would not 
 have done so without knowing the fate of the Queen, how he 
 could see her again? And where? Would he ever see her 
 again? He climbed often to the little window which gave 
 him outlook on the brilliant heavens. She, too, looked at 
 those stars from her window, as he did. 
 
 It gave him no special comfort to remember that Sar- 
 vanarof had been confined here and escaped and climbed
 
 338 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 high afterward, and that Prince Sarvan had been confined 
 here and gone free. He was sure that no other American 
 citizen had been a political prisoner in this tower. 
 
 They had scores against him in Karmania, too. They 
 could convict him; if they shot him before sunrise they 
 would have reason. He had the death of two Karmanians 
 to his account. And now that Sarvanarof knew of his rela- 
 tions with the Queen his state was bad. 
 
 No sign came to him that the Queen knew of his imprison- 
 ment or that she ever thought of him again. He could ask 
 no questions; there was no one with whom he could speak 
 his food and drink were put in through a revolving 
 window. He saw no face and heard no voice until at last 
 the door grated, unlocked, clanged to again, and Captain 
 Stanislas Korvan rushed in, threw his arms about his friend 
 and kissed him on both cheeks. 
 
 Crossdale found himself hanging on to the Karmanian's 
 hand as though it were a life rope, wringing it, looking at 
 him as though he were the whole of Karmania, in a smart 
 service uniform of Prince John's creation, cinder-gray with 
 dark red reliefs. 
 
 "Courage, courage, Stephanos! Don't get downhearted 
 we'll pull you out of this, old man, sure as fate! How are 
 you?" He looked at his friend with affectionate interest. 
 
 "I know it's not too uncomfortable here as far as a prison 
 goes. I have tested it I've slept on that bed and eaten off 
 that revolving bookshelf. God, I know all you're going 
 through! I had my share before they sent me to Pratz- 
 Zenoe, and I had a woman to care about, just as you have." 
 Crossdale wrung his hand.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 339 
 
 "Now I can only stop a second," said Korvan. "It is bad 
 for us both if I linger, but I want you to buck up, take 
 heart!" 
 
 The American, gripping Korvan's arm hard, asked: "And 
 the Queen?" by his tone of voice claiming every bit of 
 knowledge that the Karmanian had to impart. "Karmen 
 Mara?" 
 
 "Oh, she's all right, old man! Her imprisonment is only 
 a farce, only a formality. Don't worry about her. Every 
 hair of her head, you know, is sacred." Korvan saw him 
 wince. "It is you I am thinking about," he continued. "I 
 have not been able to advance your cause one step with the 
 President. He is more autocratic than a Tsar." 
 
 "I dare say." Crossdale smiled bitterly. "I can't blame 
 him for hating me." 
 
 Korvan shook his head. "Oh, he hates you, Stephen! 
 And when he saw your study in the little tower the table, 
 the feast when he saw that, and the bodies on the floor of 
 Zito and the soldier why I swear we thought he would 
 have apoplexy. I was with him. It took two of us to hold 
 him down." Crossdale listened. Things were looking 
 pretty tight for him; there was no doubt about it. 
 
 "I was there when they brought him the things out of 
 your pocket. Nothing compromising politically, old man, 
 but when he saw that little handkerchief with the Queen's 
 monogram, I thought the blood would burst from his 
 temples." He glanced at the other's locked hands, at his 
 set lips, and changed the conversation. "You will think I 
 am a duffer to talk like this, old top, but I wouldn't do it 
 if I were not sure down to my boots that we'll get you off."
 
 340 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 A sceptical smile touched the American's lips. 
 
 "You have got a lot of expensive faith, Korvan," he said. 
 "After what you have just said, I guess my goose is cooked. 
 What do you think my fate hangs on, anyhow, that you 
 seem so sure?" 
 
 Harking back to the old reverence, speaking of her in a 
 tone both affectionate and reverential, Stanislas Korvan said: 
 "The Queen. She is with the President now, at this moment." 
 
 Crossdale caught fire from his companion's words, but 
 not in the way that Korvan meant he should. She was with 
 John Sarvanarof! To what end? What power had he over 
 Karmen Mara's will? The idea that this woman, who had 
 given him her love, could be now in the presence of his 
 enemy and of the man who adored her, was almost more 
 than he could bear. Helpless, at the mercy of Sarvanarof 's 
 caprice or hate, he was powerless against the moment. 
 
 Still, his mind worked clearly and he knew what he 
 wanted to find out, and he asked: "Do you know what the 
 President intends to do? I mean to say, do you know what 
 his plans are for the Queen of Karmania?" 
 
 As he spoke her name it seemed that his companion must 
 see his emotion. He saw Korvan hesitate. 
 
 "Go on, Korvan. I can bear it whatever it is I can bear 
 anything but not knowing. Go on." 
 
 "The President has two propositions to place before Her 
 Majesty this afternoon. Indeed, as we are talking here now, 
 she has doubtless made her choice." 
 
 "Let's have it what choice does he give her?" 
 
 "To exile her to England, with a suitable income for the 
 rest of her life "
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA * 341 
 
 "And the other?" 
 
 "To remain in Karmania and guide the ship of the repub- 
 lic with her husband." 
 
 The American stepped back. "Ah, my God!" 
 
 Korvan saw him cover his eyes with his hand and he 
 muttered, leaning against the table: "Go, will you, and let 
 me fight this out alone?" 
 
 "I must go," said Korvan, wringing his hand. "I have 
 stayed too long as it is. By Jove! I hate to leave you 
 alone like this." 
 
 "You can," said the other, "quite safely. Go go and 
 remember that she has a choice." 
 
 For twenty-four hours on end he walked to and fro in 
 his little cell, dreaming, musing, eating his heart out, yearn- 
 ing up to her through the intervening space. If thought and 
 feeling could have carried him through the material barriers 
 he would have been at her side. His brain and heart and 
 senses were full of her. 
 
 Without he could hear the cries and shouts in the court- 
 yard of the castle, "savas," acclamations, the constant rep- 
 etition of the name Jehanos, snatches of her music set to 
 revolutionary words; insults, cries, demands. He could 
 even fancy that he heard them ask that she be delivered up 
 to them. 
 
 "Is this the twentieth century?" he asked himself. "No, 
 not on your life! Back, way back " 
 
 During the night he was awakenedjjy a soft touch against 
 his hand. He sprang up and saw standing by his side 
 Griffen, the old wolfhound. He seized the dog round the 
 neck, buried his face in his thick coat, and as he did so and
 
 342 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 the dog's collar touched his cheek, he wondered. He wound 
 his hands in the collar and found a slip of paper fastened 
 there. 
 
 He read out by his candle just one word, again one of 
 those symbolic and double meaning words so prevalent in 
 Karmania: Ammetaro, meaning "until the end" and also the 
 root of the verb "to love." 
 
 He could not believe that this message had been sent to 
 him without some idea that a message would be returned. 
 He wrote on a sn.all slip of paper, in English, the word: 
 "Come," and twisted it back in the collar of the dog, con- 
 cealing it in the wolfhound's thick, rough hair. 
 
 Even as he caressed the beast, the door opened, there 
 was a low whistle; Griffen responded, bounded out, and the 
 prisoner was alone. 
 
 A thousand times he weighed the chances of the Queen's 
 acceptance of exile to England. What would be easier than 
 to join her there? And then he added to himself: "Sar- 
 vanarof will never let me go!" 
 
 In the night watch and through the dark hours came the 
 memories of their meeting in his tower, the feast, the love, 
 all the adorable wonder of her, and even as he thrilled to it 
 came with gruesome and sardonic cruelty the vision of the 
 dead men on the floor. And as he mused and suffered, from 
 without came the voices of the soldiers singing her most 
 popular song: 
 
 "What shall be given 
 
 To him who comes riding " 
 
 travestied, disfigured, ribald and foul. Oh, the poor
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 343 
 
 stranger! They had bruised and beaten him well in return 
 for having opened the ways of Karmania to the sea. He 
 could not but see the humor and the satire that it was. He 
 had opened the tunnel in order that they might pass 
 through, that this scum might pour itself into her Kingdom 
 more freely! 
 
 He was sitting at his table, with his arms thrown across 
 it and his head resting upon his arm when a guard came into 
 the room, accompanied by four or five soldiers. "Are you 
 ready, Mr. Crossdale?" 
 
 Stephen started up, stood, pale and with high beating 
 heart, looking at the Karmanian, whom he had never seen 
 before. He was a young man, ardent in his patriotism, with 
 a new faith, and he could not conceal his pride and his 
 satisfaction at being detailed to parley with this important 
 prisoner. 
 
 "Are you ready?" 
 
 Stephen looked at him. "Ready for what?" and added 
 to himself, "For death?" 
 
 "To leave Karmania, to leave the kingdom at once." 
 
 Stephen drew a long breath. There was the wind of 
 liberty in it, the breath of freedom, the outer way again, the 
 home trail, the old life, security too good to be true! Too 
 wonderful to be possible! 
 
 And then free to go at what price? And free to go 
 where? From where she was. 
 
 "To leave the country? By whose order?" 
 
 The young man handed him a dazzling looking document, 
 written over and hung with seals. If the moment had not
 
 344 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 been so thrilling to him and so vital, the picturesqueness of 
 the paper would have amused him. 
 
 "Read," said the young officer, "it is incumbent that you 
 read." 
 
 "You are herewith ordered to conduct Mr. Stephen Cross- 
 dale to the frontiers of the Republic of Karmania. You 
 are to see that he is safely transported to Roumania within 
 four days, by the way of Cye and Tamaresk. If he makes 
 any attempt whatsoever to escape, or to return to the 
 Republic, he is to be shot. 
 
 "(Signed) John Sarvanarof, First President 
 of the New Republic of Karmania. 
 
 "(Signed) Karmen Mara Basilof, ex-Queen 
 of Karmania." 
 
 There was her handwriting and her signature. This was 
 the first word from her until the night before, on a slip of 
 paper, he had seen her writing in the most sacred word in 
 the Karmanian language. 
 
 Gazing at the paper which he held, Crossdale was asking 
 himself hotly, with a poignant anguish: "What has she 
 accepted which of the propositions? What has she done?" 
 
 Exile was that what she had chosen? Had she suc- 
 ceeded in banishing him in order that they should meet? 
 And hope rose in his heart, and with a modicum of cheer 
 he looked into the young man's face and tried to smile. But 
 the grave and important young officer did not relax his 
 features. 
 
 "In Cye you will be given an hour in your own quarters in 
 which to bathe and dress and to pack your personal belong-
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 345 
 
 ings. We shall take them out with us. Here, meanwhile, 
 is a raincoat and a cap." 
 
 For Crossdale was bareheaded and in the same clothes in 
 which he had left Las Restaurus after the banquet, with the 
 cabinet and the Prime Minister. 
 
 "General Sarvan has sent you these," said the young man. 
 "He thought you might need them." 
 
 "Take them away," said Crossdale curtly. "I go as I 
 came."
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX 
 
 "l WILL GIVE HIM THAT WHICH I HAVE 
 KEPT FOR HIM" 
 
 "San Francisco on the telephone for Mr. Storm." 
 
 The chap who made this announcement in no sense sug- 
 gested Jeff Robinson. He was a young man of the bell-boy 
 type, employed at odd jobs, and during the three-quarters 
 of the day which he apportioned to himself he studied 
 mechanics in the garage. He suggested no past to his 
 employer; he was connected with no romantic adventures, 
 and would never set the world on fire or betray his master. 
 Caleb Storm, who had come out unexpectedly to the ranch 
 to pass a week-end with Crossdale, went in to answer a long 
 distance call. 
 
 Crossdale was supremely indifferent to everything on the 
 Western Continent. Since his return to California nothing 
 had been able to rouse in him the slightest interest. His 
 affairs were booming; hard times did not touch him. But he 
 would rather have been poor and starting out again to fight 
 his way; this perhaps would have given him a fresh impulse 
 in life. 
 
 He had come directly west from Marseilles and felt as 
 though he had been shot in one volley from Karmania to 
 the Pacific coast. Between his leaving the prison turret and 
 his coming home the interval was vague to him. He had
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 347 
 
 hung on in Bukarest as long as he dared in the vain hope of 
 receiving some message from the Queen; but finally he was 
 obliged to take his passports, for the United States Consulate 
 made him understand that he was not persona grata in Cen- 
 tral Europe. Finally he drifted off up the Danube toward 
 the civilization for which Jeff Robinson had pined; the 
 word would always be connected with the negro. 
 
 Since he had seen him slip away at the bottom of the 
 steps of the brown tower, he had believed every evil of him. 
 He could have strangled the man with his own hands gladly, 
 and he mentally placed him in every kind of low, treacher- 
 ous position, and believed him to be Sarvanarof's paid crea- 
 ture. But although the Queen of Karmania had no means of 
 sending him a message, the night before he left Bukarest 
 a note was thrust under his door. It was a letter from Jeff: 
 
 "Gawd Almighty, ain' Ah glayde yo' pulled out safe, Boss! 
 Keep a stiff back, Mister Crossdale, suh. Et's gwine to be 
 alright. Ah ain' gwine to lebe dis hyar joint twill Ah gits 
 de old hawg's bristles. Trus' me, Boss. Ah furgive yo' fo' 
 de hit 'n de cuss-wodes Ah don' blame yo', but trus' ol' 
 Jeff. By-by." 
 
 He had never told Storm a word about his Great Adven- 
 ture. The engineering job for which he had gone to Kar- 
 mania was successfully completed; he returned. And that 
 was all the Transportation Company had to dc with it. 
 Indeed, had he wanted to chronicle his year and rehearse 
 the incidents, they would not have defined themselves. Illu- 
 sive, maddening, capricious as the shadow of a dream, they 
 eluded him cruelly. 
 
 Old Storm had never forgiven his partner for not locating
 
 348 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 the Karmanian oil wells, and he was so disgruntled about it 
 that this disappointment in itself kept him from referring to 
 Karmania. 
 
 "It just gets me, Steve, to think you missed that deal 
 you with your foot in the wells, as one might say! Can't 
 get over it! A live wire like you! What the devil were you 
 doing, man?" 
 
 Crossdale never told him. Storm, practical business man, 
 with no interests outside the United States, excepting those 
 which he could turn into money, was bent on making as 
 many fortunes as he could in a lifetime. For nothing on 
 earth would Crossdale have told his friend of his strange, 
 maddening, fascinating year. He could not hear himself 
 saying: "When I was in Karmania I fell in love with the 
 Queen! " He had no desire to pose as a film star to his com- 
 mon-sense friend. 
 
 Indeed, he asked himself a dozen times if he had not 
 dreamed it all. Even in his beautiful state, in his charming 
 home, he could not frame his memories of Karmania the 
 dark-eyed, red-lipped Queen; the brilliant rooms of Las 
 Restaurus; the mysterious brown tower. He could not 
 hang them on his walls with photographs of the Yosemite 
 Valley and his polo ponies. Had he not perhaps been seri- 
 ously ill in Bukarest without knowing it? Was not the whole 
 thing the phantasmagoria of a fevered dream? 
 
 So Karmania blurred before his vision. There was noth- 
 ing in California to recall it. Karmania shares were not 
 quoted on the San Francisco Stock Exchange, nor her latest 
 news cabled to the daily papers. Many interests absorbed 
 the firm in which Crossdale was a silent partner. Their
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 349 
 
 London house had received full payment for all the work 
 on the Karmanian State Railroad. Karmanian affairs were 
 closed as far as they were concerned. But the oil wells were 
 a constant source of irritation to Storm, and he could not 
 forgive the failure of his friend to locate them. 
 
 The first thing that Crossdale did when he returned home 
 was to get out her little photograph to dream over every line 
 of it, to compare the features in the picture with Karmen 
 Mara as he knew her. And he stood the little picture up 
 again on his bureau, as he had used to have it near him in 
 his days at Yale. And she looked at him with her sweet 
 grave eyes. 
 
 "Little girl," he said to the picture, "twice a ruler and 
 only once a woman, if I only could have run away with you 
 from school!" 
 
 And the sense of her then, and the thrill and passion of 
 their single meeting, snatched by them from the book of 
 Fate, swayed him until his image of her was so poignant 
 that this past became real and everything else a vision. 
 
 Storm had studied his friend more sensitively than Cross- 
 dale knew, and he was determined when the right moment 
 came to get his confidence. Stephen heard the receiver 
 banged up; Storm's voice ceased and he came hurrying out 
 on the porch, beaming, bursting with excitement, his eyes 
 bright with the dazzle that only money had the power to 
 create in him. He held a slip of paper in his hand. He 
 cried out: 
 
 "Gosh, Steve, you're a wonder! You're a great old secret- 
 keeper! To think of getting this over the telephone!" 
 
 He waved the slip of paper, and his friend waited with
 
 350 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 tepid interest. Contracts and projects for further riches 
 interested him not at all. 
 
 "Good work, Bey, great! You're a fine little prospector, 
 and I hope to God you'll let some of this interest get under 
 your skin." 
 
 "What the hell's the matter with you?" growled the Cali- 
 fornian. 
 
 Storm was grinning at him, his keen eyes on him with 
 satisfied amusement. "Boy," he said, "it's a pretty good 
 one, but I've run you to earth. Why the deuce didn't you 
 tell me what you were doing in Karmania?" 
 
 At this word the red color that ran under Crossdale's 
 brown cheek showed that something at last had roused him, 
 but Storm continued: "Come, Steve, unload! We're all 
 friends in the Transportation Company what was the 
 point of keeping this so dark? You let me curse you out 
 for your punk performance in Karmania regarding the locat- 
 ing of the wells " 
 
 Now Crossdale interrupted wearily: "Oh, that's the dope, 
 is it those confounded old wells!" 
 
 Storm unfurled the slip which he had written out over the 
 telephone. "That's why you left that negro behind! First 
 time in my life I ever heard of a North American negro 
 developing diplomatic qualities! But you're the stuff, 
 Steve I'll let you go round the world for the Western 
 Transportation Company any time!" 
 
 "Do you mean to say you've heard from Jeff Robinson?" 
 
 "Oh, come," said Storm, "don't be a fool. You know it all 
 better than I do. ; ' He handed the slip which he had written 
 out to Crossdale.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 351 
 
 "The Western Transportation and Karmanian Oil Com- 
 pany was formed today in London at your offices. Details 
 following by mail. Signed Stanislas Korvan and Jefferson 
 Robinson." 
 
 Crossdale read it and stared blankly into the eyes of his 
 partner, who was saying to him sharply: "Who is Korvan? 
 Who is Stanislas Korvan? Is he one of the agents, too? 
 Jefferson Robinson is the negro, isn't he?" 
 
 And Crossdale said shortly: "Yes." 
 
 "It's just two years ago," said the excited Storm, "that I 
 came out here to ask you to go to Karmania now we'll 
 celebrate the anniversary. Buck up, for God's sake, Steve 
 don't look like a ghost about it. It simply means that we must 
 have purchased about a thousand acres of land that's 
 what I doped out to you from the Kingdom of Karmania, 
 or else we own it with a joint company in the Kingdom." 
 
 Crossdale, who still looked at the pencilled words on the 
 paper as though they linked him vitally with the past, said 
 in a superior manner: "Kingdom of Karmania? It isn't 
 a kingdom it's a republic." 
 
 A thrill went through him as he said these words. A 
 republic, with John Sarvanarof for President and with the 
 Queen of Karmania for his wife! An expression of pain 
 passed over his face; his lips twitched. He heard Storm say: 
 "Republic nothing, Steve! You live out here like a savage." 
 He laughed. "You don't follow the course of events, do 
 you? Since the last revolution it is a monarchy. Here " 
 he took a folded newspaper out of the pocket of his sack 
 coat. "I brought this out thought it might interest you. 
 I forgot to show you before."
 
 352 
 
 Storm found f he paragraph and read it, above his eye- 
 glasses. Crossdale did not listen as he read him the little 
 resume of Karmania's history. He had heard it on the Dan- 
 ube boat from the lips of John Sarvanarof, as he had told 
 him so charmingly of the land he loved. The little legend 
 of the ancient republic fell on unheeding ears, but to the 
 next he listened with his soul. 
 
 "At last some fugitive rumors have penetrated to the West 
 regarding the fortunes of the passionate and ardent inhabi- 
 tants of Karmania. Their country is in constant revolt and 
 the course of events changes so rapidly that it is hard to 
 know just what is going on. But it is known now that 
 shortly after Sarvanarof's proclaiming himself President of 
 the New Republic of Karmania he was murdered by the 
 Royalist Party and Prince Sarvan, son of the former King 
 Peter, proclaimed King." 
 
 Storm looked at Crossdale and folded up the paper and 
 was about to put it back in his pocket, but the young man 
 took it from him, held it, staring at the words which he 
 could not read for emotion. Looking up at Storm, he said, 
 speaking with difficulty: "Murdered? John Sarvanarof 
 murdered? And they don't say anything about the Queen?" 
 
 "Come," said Storm, putting his hand on the arm of his 
 friend, "let's go indoors, Steve. You've not told me a damn 
 thing about Karmania, and since we're going to get wickedly 
 rich in that little kingdom, let's hear all you know about 
 it. And who on God's earth would you talk to, if it wasn't 
 to little me?" 
 
 That evening, after a long, hard ride, Crossdale came
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 353 
 
 slowly back to the bungalow, down the little trail bordered 
 by the brilliant sage bushes. His mare picked her way 
 daintily over the soft path. 
 
 He was in no hurry to go indoors. He had ridden long in 
 the fresh, delicious air. He had tried, as he did so often 
 now, to tire himself out, so that he might sleep and forget. 
 He knew that he would only find old K down there to keep 
 him company, and perhaps it would be harder than ever to 
 see Storm now, for he had told him everything. There would 
 be the photograph of the little girl upstairs, but she had 
 never given him any kisses that he could remember. She 
 had never grown up to his love. 
 
 After his long talk with Caleb, his confession, which had 
 lasted into the late afternoon, Karniania had become vivid 
 and real to him again; and he remembered step by step the 
 journey from Savia to Tamaresk; the stop at his old 
 quarters in Cye, which he and Korvan had shared together; 
 the gathering together of his belongings; the finding under 
 the bricks of the chimney the documents from Storm regard- 
 ing the oil wells safely hidden by Jeff. So that was why 
 Jeff Robinson had wanted the letters! He had copied them; 
 his cupidity and his vanity, his desire for wealth, had 
 triumphed over everything else! He remembered the 
 interminable four days' journey, over the new railroad 
 as far as Roda, over the road he had built and laid, and the 
 subsequent dragging trail of horse and carriage finally to the 
 door of the old Grand Hotel in Tamaresk. And every foot 
 of the way had been heavy with his sense of loss of Her; 
 every turn of the wheels meant that he was leaving her for- 
 ever. He had no means of getting a message back; he had
 
 354 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 no hope of receiving any token or sign nothing but her 
 word on the slip of paper, engraved on his soul and binding 
 him to her. 
 
 His escort had been of the most severe and military type. 
 He was treated as a prisoner of war; and when he passed the 
 turn of the road where the brigands of Prince John had 
 originally taken him prisoner, he wished with all his soul 
 that another unthought-of circumstance might seize him 
 and carry him back into captivity, that he might breathe the 
 air with her. 
 
 At a table in "The Yellow Moon," over an indifferent 
 meal, he was surprised to see how tawdry and sordid the 
 place seemed to him now, its charm smitten out by his 
 excitement and grief. As he had lingered over his tasteless 
 meal, the company in the room broke up into a free fight, 
 for the musicians tried to play one of the Queen's songs and 
 the revolutionaries forced them to turn it into a new national 
 air. 
 
 In the disturbance he had gone out to the Danube boat, a 
 peasant lad carrying his small luggage after him. Then the 
 river again, with its charm and fascination gone, bore him 
 out of the country at last, in spite of himself. 
 
 Then the stop at Bukarest, the eternal waiting for news of 
 some kind. He knew through the cold, impersonal medium 
 of a Bukarest newspaper what Karmen Mara's choice had 
 been. She had agreed to marry the President of the New 
 Republic and direct the affairs of the state with her hus- 
 band. 
 
 Nothing after that made any difference to him. 
 
 Now, on this night, as he came slowly up to the bungalow,
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 355 
 
 he saw the little supper table spread on the terrace, and 
 spread for three. The awning was drawn back from the 
 porch; they were to eat in the open under the sky. 
 
 But the sight of the supper table, the return home, gave 
 him no thrill. He scarcely wondered at the extra place. 
 Nothing affected him. He stood with his hands in his 
 pockets, smoking before going in, looking up to the foot- 
 hills, fast becoming indistinct in the falling night. From 
 his gardens came the perfume of heliotrope and rose. It 
 was a land of beauty, a kingdom of luxuriant bloom, and the 
 most lonely paradise that could be imagined. 
 
 As he stood like this, he heard some one touch the piano 
 in the living room. Caleb Storm played all the popular 
 music by ear. Unmoved, he listened to the chords but 
 where on earth had Storm ever heard that melody? He 
 had always thought that if that strain again should meet his 
 ears, he could never bear it. 
 
 "What shall be given to him who comes riding 
 Over the mountains and through the forests 
 To our hill city? 
 Much gold and glory? 
 
 "He comes for neither. 
 So the rider, the stranger, 
 Goes back unsatisfied! 
 
 "What shall I give him 
 
 Who comes so far and so gladly? 
 
 A gift for a stranger, 
 
 A gift for a rider,
 
 356 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 I will give him that which I have kept for him 
 
 that which my mother gave me. 
 What is this gift? The heart in my breast. 
 When he feels it he will count its beating." 
 
 He listened to it, sung in Karmanian by a woman's voice, 
 and then, as though he were a somnambulist, slowly drawn 
 by the music, he went into the living room. 
 
 A woman sat behind his piano. She wore a small dark 
 hat, which came down closely over her brow and ears; she 
 wore a flowered veil, which concealed her face. She was all 
 in black like a shadow, with splendid milk-white pearls in 
 her ears, and a string of real pearls around her neck, such as 
 Queens in romances wear. 
 
 She sprang up and cried out as Crossdale came in, and 
 she rushed up the stairs like a school girl in her short dress, 
 displaying a fine length of slender leg in silk stocking, and 
 high-heeled shoes. She found a door open and she took 
 cover. It was Crossdale's own room. 
 
 But he ran her to earth by his bureau, where she stood 
 straight, with her hands behind her, leaning on the bureau. 
 And back of her the little old picture, grave-eyed, and it 
 seemed to curiously regard her. 
 
 "I don't take drugs, and they have stolen my liquor, so I 
 am just mad, that's all!" 
 
 She did not say a word. She smiled, until he saw her lips 
 quiver. Then he put his arms about her and unfastened her 
 veil and unpinned her smart little hat and put it on his 
 cushion, where no woman's hat had ever been; and it fell 
 over the little old picture of the young princess and snuffed 
 her out.
 
 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 357 
 
 "You wrote the word 'Come,' Stephen Crossdale. I found 
 it in Griffen's collar, and I was brought up to obey. They 
 say a good ruler should learn the lesson of obedience." She 
 held him back from her. "I want to tell you of my 
 journeyings. I would rather travel from Karmania to China 
 than spend another night in your sleeping hotels." 
 
 "Did you come alone?" 
 
 "Ask the immigration officials. I've brought half my 
 kingdom with me, all the Karmanian Oil Company." 
 
 Before any magician could transfix them to stone, he 
 kissed her and found her real, and he kissed her to prove 
 how real he was and that California does not quench the 
 fever of life and desire. Some one coming up the stairs made 
 thejn start apart and she took up her smart little hat, and 
 the girl of the photograph was discovered again and gazed 
 in grave wonder at the girl who had grown up. Karmen 
 Mara settled her hair as naturally before his glass as though 
 it had been her mirror in the palace. 
 
 Crossdale looked at the image of a woman in his little 
 mirror. Heavens what a royal world it was! 
 
 From the door, Jefferson Robinson, large stockholder in 
 the Western Transportation and Karmanian Oil Company, 
 in a fashionable coat of the latest cut, bought from Poole 
 in London as they passed through, in a myrtle green cravat 
 bought from a bang-up haberdasher in Paris as they passed 
 through, a decoration in his buttonhole given to him by what 
 country and for what valor Crossdale had yet to discover, 
 announced gently: 
 
 "De supper am ready, Mister Crossdale, an' Yo' Majesty, 
 Mis' Vassylof, ma'am. And Mr. Storm do say "
 
 358 THE QUEEN OF KARMANIA 
 
 What Caleb Storm said or thought was drowned in the 
 crashing of his chords upon the piano in the living room. 
 His fingers wandered into a national air, and then left it 
 and got tangled up in a wedding march, and he kept on.
 
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