, OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES Jh<> STOLEH OHRONE, ~ ty GURTHA STOLEN THRONE Herbert Kaufman Illustrate CKri$t\ MOFFAT^ARD Copyright, 1907, by MOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY NEW YORK Published March, 1907 Reprinted May, 1907 To Gertrude Raff Kaufman and Belle Gray Taylor 2130622 CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. I Find a Strange Chest . . 3 II. Sir Sanders' Story .... 21 III. The Duke Alexis .... 29 IV. I Find a Rose 45 V. I Ride with the Duke ... 59 VI. The South Gate at Eleven . 71 VII. I Undertake a Mission . . 77 VIII. Ecarte 87 IX. I Slay the Dragon .... 99 X. The Peril of the Duchess . . 113 XI. The Man with the Nose . . 123 XII. The Pretender 133 XIII. I Enter the Fortress ... 147 XIV. The Shadow on the Shade . 157 XV. I See a Signet Ring . . . . 169 XVI. My Friend the Captain . . 179 XVII. What Whitworth Found . . 191 XVIII. The Man at the Mill ... 201 XIX. The Mill Grinds Strange Grist 213 XX. What Happened to Antsley . 225 XXI. Carma 243 XXII. The Grave that No Man Finds 261 XXIII. Auf Wiedersehen .... 273 XXIV. The End of the Dream 287 ILLUSTRATIONS Gurtha (Frontispiece) " No one ever took Antsley seriously " . 10 "A dissipated individual whom he intro- duced as Captain Helzer" ... 46 " My sharpened sword bit into him while he was still falling" 106 " Vladimir Blitzow was a Diplomat; his eyes, his mouth, his nose spelled the word" 126 " In her face there was the radiance of an Angel facing the Throne of God " . 250 / Find a Strange Chest CHAPTER I. "I Find a Strange Chest." HEN will you send for it?" I asked. "I'll take it away now," Wertburger replied. "My car is outside and I can very easily find room for it. No, you need not bother, I can quite readily manage alone I don't mind telling you that I've already found a purchaser for it, at a handsome advance over my investment. So you see, we've both done rather well. Good afternoon, sir." "Good-bye, Wertburger," I replied, "and thank you." I walked with him to the lift and then came -back and stood at the window and examined the checque. "5,000." Yes, it was true ! The dark space on the wall, showing in con- trast against the rest of the paper, certainly The Stolen Throne meant that the portrait was gone, and the checque was real enough. "I wonder if he ever knew its value," I mused. These were my uncle's chambers. His sudden death had brought me back to London, a month before, to take possession of the small estate he had willed me. He and I had not been very good friends and in what relenting spirit he had bequeathed me his few possessions I never learned. At the most it was a modest competence. A few shares of bank stocks, his library, a little more than a thousand pounds, and his pictures and furniture. It had never occurred to me that he possessed any great art treasures. So that Wertburger's recognition of the Benjamin West came as a complete sur- prise. He had been very honest in the matter, had Wertburger. He did not seek to conceal the real worth of the painting, but at once avowed its probable value. It was his own suggestion I Find a Strange Chest to have Christies' appraise the head, and he had given me his checque without a quibble at their valuation. It was good to have a bit of the "ready" again. I had long since made away with my mother's estate. George might easily have assisted me. I doubt, however, if I should have accepted any funds from his hand, but nevertheless, it would have been only decency on his part to make the proffer. Mother's open jealousy, however, of Sir Henry's fondness towards his first wife's son, had bred bad blood between me and my half- brother, and his succession to the title gave him a long-deferred opportunity to repay me for her snubs. For five years I had found life rather an in- soluble problem. A younger son is closely -circumscribed as to livelihood. I hated the law as much as I loathed the church. Trade, of course was impossible, and so I chose the one avenue still open to me, the stage. The Stolen Throne I am aware that any comment upon my per- sonal appearance may seem, to some, in ques- tionable taste. Therefore, I feel some hesitancy at describing myself, but since this is the nar- rative of a very momentous episode in my life and the reader is naturally interested in all that pertains to me, as the principal figure therein, I must, in lieu of any other means of presenting myself, render a brief description of my per- sonality. And if it is vanity on my part, to say that I was at the time when this story began, possessed of a goodly share of looks, I must confess that it was impressed upon me by the different managers, under whom I pursued my short stage career, that my appearance, more than any marked dramatic instinct, prompted any engagements that I was ever fortunate enough to secure. The task of the autobiographer is always a thankless one. The narrator must face two pitfalls. If he be self-conscious, his sense of I Find a Strange Chest modesty may carry him to an opposite extreme and thereby throw his figure into a false per- spective, which disturbs the harmony of the scenes in which he appears. If on the other hand, he regard himself as a separate entity and divorce his ego as an individual from his personality as it appertains to his theme, seek- ing to set forth with an impartial judgment, his strength and weakness, rendering an exact ac- count of his thoughts, his emotions and his ac- tions, there are always those who are ready to set him in the pillory and hurl at him the ac- cusation of self-conceit. Be this as it may, I have determined to set down what occurred exactly as it transpired, neither to enlarge nor belittle, neither to color nor subdue, the part I was called upon to play. To resume the thread of my narrative (with no apology for a justified digression) I was at the time of this event a man nearing thirty-five tall even for an Englishman with good 8 The Stolen Throne chest and shoulders and a well proportioned figure. Except for a difference in height and bulk, I might have been mistaken for the pres- ent Lord Roseberry a resemblance which has often been remarked upon by mutual friends. I am a Staffordshire Parker on my father's side. My mother was a Dunning. So that from both parents I have inherited the best blood of Eng- land. At Oxford I was an assiduous reader of the romance languages and evinced a decided bent toward literature, but neglected to follow what talent I then possessed. I was neither a great success nor a pronounced failure, as an actor. I have been told that application and study might have lifted me to a post of prominence on the stage, but that is entirely a matter of con- jecture and has no part in my tale. I have always possessed considerable skill with the small sword I ride well and find hunting and shooting pleasing relaxations. I Find a Strange Chest French and German, I learned as a child and repeated visits to the continent have helped me retain a readiness in both languages. The bitterest experience of my life occurred just before my uncle's death. A very beautiful, but worldly woman, whom I had loved with a wealth of tenderness, jilted me for a man of greater substance, leaving me a misogynist and almost a misanthrope. My fortunes were on the ebb when opportu- nity came in the person of Wertburger. It was a great convenience to possess such a sum at this moment. I was heartily sick of London and England. I had none too pleasant mem- ories to keep me at home, and I could now go away for a year or so and get a new grip on life. Yes, I would leave these rooms. They were comfortable enough as chambers go, but the prospect from my windows was by no means cheering to a man in my frame of mind. On io The Stolen Throne the one side I had the Thames before me dirty, sluggish and gloomy ! When I gazed out of the front rooms, there were a grave yard and the backs of old Strand buildings. There was one compensation. Ted Antsley lived on the floor below. Antsley pretended to read law. He pretended at many things sheer laziness kept him from attaining success in any direction. But then Antsley had no need to exert himself. A comfortable income from his father's potteries gave him the opportunity and wherewithal to indulge his inclinations. Antsley was five years younger than myself. He had started out in the army but one cam- paign in the Soudan dulled his leaning in the direction of the Service. A pretense at law was his latest whim. No one ever took Antsley seriously. Even people who liked no one but themselves, usually found a little spot in their regard for him. His humorous eyes saved him from being No one ever took Antsley seriously" I Find a Strange Chest n ugly. His impertinence rendered him a de- lightful companion and intimate. He knew everybody worth while and a world of impos- sibles and he possessed the rare ability of keeping himself in favor in the East and the West End without giving offence to either social strata. He loved all women and therefore never fell in love with any woman. He was then and is to-day, the cleanest-souled gentleman of my ac- quaintance. If life brought me nothing else of worth, at least I have always had from him a friendship dearer than brotherhood. Wertburger had hardly gone, when I heard Ted's step in the hall. "Well, how did you come out ?" he asked. I waved the checque before his eyes. "Look _ for yourself," I said. "Great!" was his comment. "Now you can get away with me. Where shall we go when shall we start? By the bye," he queried, 12 The Stolen Throne "did you see Whitworth's letter ? I left it here last night. Thought you'd like to know how Aubrey is getting along. He's attached to the legation in Stromburg. Wrote me a ripping fine note and wanted to know all about you and the rest of his old friends." "I saw the letter," I said, "but I didn't notice it was open. Thought it had been left in my rooms by accident, and put it away for you. I'll get it," And I walked toward my desk. It was a very old affair, this escritoire of my uncle's. I have never seen one like it ; a great square cabinet the upper part of which was made up of compartments. Underneath there was a tier of drawers and besides these a row of shelves. "Look into some of the other drawers, Tom," drawled Antsley. "You're always throwing your papers all over creation and then have to spend a month to find anything you need." But I was sure where I had placed the letter. I Find a Strange Chest 13 "Perhaps you pulled the drawer out too far and it dropped through," he suggested. "But that's just the point. It stops half way and then it catches on something." Antsley came over and began to examine matters for himself. "What a pretty piece of inlaying." He was running his ringers over the black and yellow blocks that formed the bottom of the drawer. "Seems to be warped, doesn't it?" He pressed on the spot as he spoke, and the whole front swung outward, disclosing a space into which a man could easily pass half his body. Antsley brought over my study lamp. There lay our quarry in the midst of odds and ends of _every description. But there was one thing that caught and held my gaze a quaint old metal casket secured with two locks, the keys of which were still in them. The first we man- 14 The Stolen Throne aged to turn after some trouble, but the other key snapped off under the strain ! "Here, use these." Antsley handed me the fire tongs. One smart tap knocked off both hasp and lock. I drew back the lid. A folded paper lay inside, and a yellow stained envelope tied with narrow silk ribbons, which fell away in powder, when touched. Underneath these, I encountered a hoop of gold filigree. It was studded with rough rubies of irregular size and knobs of opal. In the center, set around with brilliants of blue-white lustre, was a huge, black diamond. The outside surface was con- vex and there was an heraldic device carved upon it. I made out a tiger, couchant, resting upon a shield, above which was inscribed: "Dulce est pro patria mori" A number of rings, quaintly set, and about a handful of loose gems covered the bottom of the box. The shaded light from the lamp sported with the fire of the gems. I Find a Strange Chest Here was an Emperor's ransom ! It was mine all mine a fortune, an inde- pendence! Yet this, which once could have meant all and everything to me, could now have no worth. The diamonds were as glass, the glowing rubies and sapphires, the soft-toned emeralds, and the many tinted opals, mere col- ored pebbles. Fortune had clanged on my knocker when the day of her welcome was gone. Did she think that this, the tag of her bounty, could recompense for the empty heart which her belated coming had left me ? No ! I was not to be bought upon such terms ! And in an access of bitterness I seized the royal circlet and hurled it with all my force upon the hearthstone. _- The golden band bounded into the air and fell with one side bent flat. Something rolled across the floor, striking the table leg sharply. Antsley picked it up. 1 6 The Stolen Throne "Why, you foolish beggar," he said, "You've knocked the diamond out." He tried to fit the stone back into the crown, while I stared unseeingly through the window. "See if you can read it," he said, handing me a faded and discolored scrap of parchment. "I found it here in the setting, but I can't make out the scrawl." "It's in some German dialect," I said, after a long scrutiny. "I am not sure of it all, but this much I can decipher: 'The fifth room from the northeast corner, in the lower gallery of the cathedral count seven stones in the first row, then two to the right' ' Curious now myself, I began to examine the papers which we had removed from the chest. "The Parker will," I cried suddenly. "I've found it." "Very interesting, I'm sure," said Antsley in a naggish sort of way. He lay back on the cushions, counting the rings sailing upward I Find a Strange Chest 17 from his cigarette. "Still, never having heard of the Parker will, I am able to master my emo- tion. Who was Parker? What is his will? When did he make it ? Why in creation did he ever lose it?" "Sir Saunders Parker, I answered in tones of quelching dignity (one must assume dignity at times with Antsley his own family began with his father), "was my great, great grand- father! The first Parker " "Oh, I know, one of the acorns that William brought over with him as seed for the family trees of England. Saved his monarch's life on the field of battle rescued a forlorn damsel or so from the castles of the most prominent, neighboring barons then went into the crusade line and carried the white man's burden to the far East, which had burdens enough of its own, without any additional ones of British manufacture kindly skip it all, old man, I 1 8 The Stolen Throne know it by heart. Take a hurdle over the acorn chaps and tell me about the 'will' Parker !" "The 'will' Parker," I answered crisply, "happened to occupy many offices of dignity under his most august majesty, George III. He was thrown from his horse while riding to London, posthaste, to offer his sword and per- son against the rebellious American colonies. They found him dead in the road, his neck broken. He had managed to scrawl a sentence in the dust, which in the first excitement of the tragedy, was unnoticed, and so all save the words, 'look for will in the ' were trampled out ! The family searched unceasingly for years, but until this time, all trace of the document was lost." There was one more paper. It was inscribed in the following terms: "To my son, Henry Seton Parker, being a true history of my ex- periences at the court of Stromburg." I Find a Strange Chest Antsley settled himself back on the cushions and closed his eyes. "Now," he said, "for deeds of might and daring. Enter conspirators and maidens fair ho! for tales of rapier-thrust and love ballade! Meanwhile, may I trouble you to pass me a church- warden ?" Sir Sanders' Story CHAPTER II. "Sir Sanders' Story." HERE are, my son, two well defined periods in the lives of most men. They lie on either side of maturity. Youth, a reckless, discontented fool, hies him away to the astrologer and begs his horoscope. Age, wise in the knowl- edge that Time's bounties are but Grecian gifts, wearily drops the tangled skein of the fates and is content with what few poor strands that can be straightened from the mesh. To- night, as I sit telling the threads of the past, the fragrance of roses is wafted across the seas, roses heavily odoured and bedewed but the dew that jewels bright upon their petals, is tears , "I had been two years with Lord Lyden at Paris, when, through the influence of my 24 The Stolen Throne cousin Yarmouth, the modest billet of minister to Stromburg was secured for me. I would fain have remained at the gay French capital, but disconcerting rumours of heavy play and violent dissipation having reached my father's ears, the mills of the ministry were influenced to grind forth my appointment to the quaint little kingdom where I was fated to pass the rarest years of my maturity. "Marcus, the reigning Duke, evinced from the first a kindly regard for me, and in time a bond of fellowship, nay, I may even say devo- tion, grew between us. In the third year of my incumbency an alliance was arranged be- tween the Duke and Helga, daughter of Leopold of Haldstadt. "They were wed on Lady Marga's day, when, in accordance with immemorial custom, noble and commoner mingled freely and upon equal terms. "That night I first beheld your mother, then Sir Sanders' Story 25 a lady-in-waiting to the Duchess, and within a year I espoused her. "Fortune seldom grants such smiles as she vouchsafed us. In the palace, too, Love was chamberlain, and before two years had passed, a man-child came to round out the happiness of the royal sweethearts. "A month after, you, my son, were born. "But this Eden of ours must needs have its serpent in the guise of a Nicholas of Holzdon, powerful, unscrupulous, ambitious, and of iron will. "Surely slowly stealthily, he planted the seed of discord among the nobles and waited patiently for his foul harvest. Intrigue over- lapped intrigue. Men at first kept their griev- ances and lusts and greeds to themselves. Then, confidences were exchanged and in the end, there were regular assignations and open plots. The very officers of the household be- came rotten with infidelity. 26 The Stolen Throne "And all the while the duke dreamed at his wife's side, refusing to look away from the sunlight of his happiness to the darkening clouds that were, all too soon, heavy to full- ness. "At length the night appointed by the con- spirators arrived. Headed by Nicholas they entered the palace and murdered Marcus. "At the same hour General Altman was killed as he lay sleeping beside his wife, and Count Muraneff assumed control of the army. "By some kindness of fortune the Duchess was able to reach the legation with her infant son. She pledged your mother and myself to the protection of the child and then entrusted to my keeping a small iron chest. "Within this casket," she said, "are state documents and my own jewels. Beneath the black diamond in the coronet is concealed that which will estab- lish the identity of the Duke Andreas. If the Sir Sanders' Story 27 worst comes, promise me, by that love which you bore his father, to take my son to Eng- land and rear him as your own child. When he shall have reached manhood, do you disclose his parentage and tell him that it was his mother's prayer, that he regain the throne of his fathers'. "After much persuasion we prevailed upon her to remain under our protection but dur- ing the night she eluded our watchfulness and returned to the palace. They recognized her as she entered the gate and a drunken lieuten- ant of cavalry sabred her in the courtyard." "A month afterwards (I having meanwhile forwarded my resignation to London, with an earnest plea for its acceptance) my successor arrived, and I returned to England with you, my son, and the young Duke. "But I can write no more memory is in a bitter mood to-night and a great heart-sickness wells over me and forces me to cease." 28 The Stolen Throne There was one more page. It was written upon a different stock and the handwriting showed another mood than that which had held the narrator in setting forth the first part of his story. "The child Andreas I reared as my own son, until he died, two years afterwards. It is he, whom you have ever believed to be the brother of your babyhood. A Grand Duke of Stromburg, he sleeps beside his mother's loyal friend, in this quiet English hamlet." I folded up the papers and placed them back into the chest. Antsley picked a Bradshaw from the table and ran through its pages. "Let' s see," he mused, "if we pack now there'll be time to fix up a letter of credit, write a note or so, send a wire to Aubrey Whitworth, and catch the 9.45 to-night out of Victoria. Say, Your Highness, where in thunderation do you keep your telegraph forms?" The Duke Alexis CHAPTER III. "The Duke Alexis." TROMBURG lies well toward the North of Europe. It is a mountain Kingdom, rugged and frowning, rich with timber and mines. Its position is strategically splendid. Bul- warks of granite gird the land and made it pos- sible in by-gone ages for its people to hold their own against the marauding hosts of the earlier centuries, and afterwards against the land- hungry armies of France, Germany and Aus- tria. The climate is delightful. The air sends a tingle of wine through the veins. It is fragrant with the breath of the balsam-covered hills. In extent, it is a small land, of no great import, except commercially. Its mines have recently become famed for pitch-blende and other rare 32 The Stolen Throne materials, for which modern science has dis- covered such multiform possibilities. There are few cities in Stromburg, but the most important of these is the capital, which bears the same name as the State. The city was founded by followers of Attila, who were attracted by the defensive advantages of the district as well as the richness of the low lands along the Sarga. They built their wattle huts, eased themselves of their weapons and settled down to husbandry and hunting. Aftertime the handful of shacks grew into a village the village greatened into a town the town became a city and as early as the first teens of the Christian Era, Stromburg was reckoned as a State of some magnitude and im- portance. The star of her ascendency paused, however, with Kaz, the Smith, under whose leadership the peasants waged war upon their over-Lords. His victorious arms added to the realm, the contingent baronies of Wurlitz, The Duke Alexis 33 Damnar and Marburg. But his successors were men of sloth dullards and dawdlers. And so the land has stood stock-still in its i6th Century shoes, a medieval kingdom, upon the very doorstep of ultra-modernity. Travelling facilities to Stromburg are very bad. Its inaccessible location and the difficulty of making connections with the greater traffic systems, have as yet, spared it from the plague of "Cookry." It drowses its peaceful life in calmness and ease. The city will, however, well repay any adventurous tourist, with its singular beauty of location, and its quaintness. The tap of the mason's trowel, the rasp of the carpen- ter's saw, but seldom resound in her streets. For centuries, row after row of unaltered homes have stood, sentinels over the passing of time, housing successive generations of fam- ilies. Old rambling buildings line the narrow- est of cobbled lanes. The soothing varnish of the years has toned the garish decorations of 34 The Stolen Throne the house-fronts into neutral browns and ma- roons. Bright vermillion dashes among the centuried tiles spell occasional restoration. Here and there some structure of a newer school of archicecture flaunts itself parvenu- ishly, envying in its heart of stucco and stone, the fine old aristocrats among which it is so in- congruously set. In the very oldest part of the town the streets are the original cow paths and twist and turn with a line of direction that one would naturally expect from bovine engineers. The public fountains are, as of old, rendezvous for gossiping housewives. The resounding whack of wooden paddles comes from the banks of the river, mingled with the chatter of girls and women (the stationary wash-tub is as un- known in Stromburg as the motor car and the lift). The guild houses are still standing and the old town hall, with its inevitable clocked tower The Duke Alexis 35 lifts its gaunt faces to the heavens that have for ages so mercilessly beat upon them with rain and sun. There are dark alley-ways that lead into passages from which a stranger might emerge with more difficulty than from a crystal maze. Bridges with crumbling piers and rotting piles stand everywhere, although the streams that once swept under them have long ago dried. Horses are rare in Stromburg, but there are dogs everywhere great deep-chested brutes with the long punishing jaw of the timber wolf and the haunch of the Great Dane. There are two Cathedrals (one very ancient) and a modern Greek church. The palace is not far from the great square and back of it, the very oldest part of the town sprawls along a slope which stretches from the river to the edge of a plateau, on the further rim of which, towers a range of shaggy, fir- incrusted hills. 36 The Stolen Throne A lanky Englishman came down the station platform as we alighted from the train. Ted dropped his Gladstone and ran over to him. "I'm bally glad you two have come," said Whitworth, grasping my hand in both of his. "I haven't set eyes on Ted since the Soudan campaign. I say, doesn't the old rooster look splendid? We'll go straight up to the hotel. Christof here will attend to your bags. Oh no, it isn't far enough to ride, we can foot it in less than five minutes. I took the liberty of making arrangements for you at the Con- tinental. It's just across from our legation." Mine host of the "Grand Hotel Continental" came forward to greet us, uttering an effusion of bows that threatened to unhinge his torso. He was a very fat little man with a very thin little beard. "Goodbye, gentlemens, goodbye," he exclaimed in welcome. Then he straightened up in the pride of his linguistic attainments and proceeded to precede The Duke Alexis 37 us to our chambers. We faced the town-square so that we had a capital prospect of the city from our own windows. Across the way the Royal George lazily furled itself around its staff. "Who's chief over at your place?" I asked Whitworth. "Burton. He's been here a year now. I joined him the September after he came. You fellows will like him hugely. He's the bulliest chap in the service. A bit of a war cloud has been focusing hereabouts, and the powers that be, sent him on from Cairo to see to it that there shall be no rainfall." "What's the row concessions ?" "Yes, and no. The whole matter's a perfect hodge-podge. I'll tell you the situation some t>ther time. You'll want a snack now you surely must be famished after your trip." There was a riotous outburst of laughter as we entered the public room. 38 The Stolen Throne Mine host was remonstrating with a party of drunken officers. When he saw us, he left them and came for- ward, followed by a little whipper-snapper in the garish uniform of a lieutenant of cavalry who insisted upon continuing the discussion. He became so annoying that I lost my patience and shoved him away. He reeled backward and, losing his balance, sprawled on the sanded floor. Struggling to his feet he lurched over to me and shook his fist impotently in my face, at first, too violent in rage to phrase his mood. At last he found his tongue. "You have in- sulted me," he cried. "You have insulted the army. I demand an apology. My friends shall wait upon you in the morning." "So you are insulted," I sneered. "How you surprise me. From your manners I did not think that could be possible." I had piled Pelion onto Ossa. With a snarl The Duke Alexis 39 he drew his sabre and lunged at me. In- stinctively I side-stepped, shot forth my arm and caught his chin. He dropped to the floor like a wet sponge. In an instant I was beset by his companions. One hulking brute, hurling his heavy stone mug, just missed me, only to land, however, upon the well-developed paunch of the excited landlord. Whitworth attempted to quell the tumult but could do nothing. I took refuge behind a table and began to look about me for some sub- stantial weapon of offense, when suddenly a hush fell upon the room! Turning, I saw a newcomer. He was a big, bearded man, whose bulk gave one an impression of sturdiness, rather than stoutness. His eyes were fishy grey, set in -long, Tartar slits. He was, I should judge, about forty years of age. The early frosts of life had tinged his temples with the first hoar of age. His nose was shapely, if large, and re- 40 The Stolen Throne deemed from grossness by proud nostrils and a good arch. His head sat rather close to his shoulders; but not unpleasantly so. He wore the picturesque uniform of a Cossack com- mander, the long tunic with spreading skirts, lending him the hour-glass figure, which is characteristic of your continental army officer. Whitworth bowed in recognition. The "enemy" saluted and stood stiffly at attention. The stranger glanced to the floor for one in- stant and then lifted his eye to Whitworth's in a quizzical stare. Aubrey touched his arm and the two stood aside and whispered earnestly for a few mo- ments. At the end of their conversation the stranger beckoned one of the officers and spoke to him for a moment. The man saluted and returned to his companions. Lifting their still insensible comrade to his feet, they left the room in silence. The Duke Alexis 4 1 In response to Whitworth's nod Ted and I came over and joined him. "Parker," he said, "you may thank the Duke Alexis for a very fortunate outcome to what promised to be an ugly affair. "I fear, sir, that I have begun my stay in Stromburg by making a rather nasty mess of things," I murmured. The Duke smiled. "Do not permit the inci- dent to disturb you. I know the crowd. I heard the sound of brawling from the street and half divined that a 'military sortie' had been made. Mr. Antsley, and you, my dear Mr. Parker, I bid you good-night Mr. Whit- worth, my respects." "Who the deuce is he?" I asked. Whitworth's face puckered into a grimace, "That, my dear Parker, is our friend, the enemy in brief, the hovering cloud of which I spoke!" / Find a Rose CHAPTER IV. '7 Find a Rose" WAS surprised to find the next day pass without the expected challenge. Antsley (who is nothing if not practical) bought a pair of rapiers early in the morning and fenced with me until noon. Whitworth dropped in soon after luncheon and brought with him a dissipated looking individual whom he presented as Cap- tain Helzer. The captain unjointed his waist for one fleeting instant in acknowledgment of the introduction and immediately resumed his pose of nonchalance. Captain Helzer called in behalf of his friend, Lieutenant Jansen, who was somewhat indisposed and therefore begged to be excused from attending in person. Lieu- tenant Jansen desired to apologize for his indis- cretion of the previous night and trusted that 46 The Stolen Throne the incident would be erased from my memory. I hastened to assure the worthy captain of my complete satisfaction, after which the four of us drank so many toasts to the individual and col- lective healths of the party that the "dove of peace" was in the end reduced to a condition so maudlin that we were forced to remain an un- willing audience to a series of revelations which would have brought the blush of shame to the cheeks of Don Juan. Finally the thickened tones became inarticulate, then ceased com- pletely. Whitworth called a carriage and per- sonally conducted our guest to his quarters in the barracks. Ted and I dined alone and after lighting our cigars, set out to see the city. We crossed the square and followed the first street we chanced upon. It led us to a park where a fete of some sort was in progress. Suddenly a domino sprung from the shardows and struck Antsley upon the mouth with a rose. A rakish individual whom he introduced as Captain Helzer" I Find a Rose 47 "Not so fast, my lady," he cried, and began pursuit. She fled into the gardens, we after her. "Look out, Parker, she's coming towards you hold her!" I turned quickly and she rushed fairly into my arms. Back of the mask two glowing spots flashed saucily then pit, pat! came her sharp French heels cuttingly on my ankles there was a ripping noise and I stood with a strip of torn muslin in my hand. A party of merry-makers coming down the path opened up to let her through, then laugh- ingly closed before Antsley. When he escaped from their midst the girl had disappeared. "We'll know her by this token of a torn sleeve," I said. "Token be damned! What were waists made for?" he grumbled. "I'd have held her fast enough Gods of Rome, what a scene!" We were probably in the grounds of some 48 The Stolen Throne palace. The moonlight splintered in silver sprays upon a noble pile of marble crowning- countless tiers of terraces. The snowy pillars caught the shimmering glow and gleamed creamily against a blue-black sky powdered with stars. All around us and as far as the senses could reach were roses thousands of bending bushes that heavied the air with their fragrance and made of fallen petals, a carpet rare enough for Venus and the handmaidens of Olympus. Mandolins tinkled in the shadows zithers twanged love songs trembled in the passion- ate air. From behind a clump of Jacqueminots, came softly, the ardent, trembling plea of a wooer. This was the garden of the Loves yonder the temple of its mysteries. I tumbled over on the grass and sprawled among the petals. A half-blown blossom, swayed by the lightly stirring wind, swept rhythmically across my face and as I inhaled its breath, a song was borne out into the night! I Find a Rose 49 There dwelt in the dim and misty past, Beside the River Sarga, A dragon drear A thing of fear Who loved the Lady Marga. Oh, passing fair, And wondrous rare To see was Princess Marga! The dragon swore he'd have for bride Beside the River Sarga, The king's own child, The sweet and mild And beauteous Lady Marga! "Bring thou to me "For wife," roared he, "The lovely Princess Marga!" They dared not rouse the dragon's wrath, Beside the River Sarga, In festal gown And jewelled crown 50 The Stolen Throne Serene came Lady Marga. With naught of fear, Or sob or tear, All brave, came Princess Marga. "Alack, alas!" the old King cried, Beside the River Sarga, "Must all ends fail? "Can naught avail "My well-beloved Marga?. "Can sword nor spell "This monster fell "And save my daughter Marga?" In answer then the High Priest spake, Beside the River Sarga. "One man, I ween, "May stand between "This doom and Lady Marga! "Armed with a rose "He may oppose "The fate of Princess Marga. I Find a Rose "But he who would essay the task, "Beside the River Sarga, "Must first be sure "Of soul as pure "As that of Lady Mar gal "Then must he lie "Him down and die "Instead of Lady Marga." Forthwith sprang Max, a goatherd's son, Beside the River Sarga. A rose of red He held. He said "My life for Lady Marga!" And straight he bore Him to the shore Where knelt the Princess Marga. The dragon came he hurled the rose, Beside the River Sarga. "What wilt from me "For this" cried she. 52 The Stolen Throne "A kiss, my Lady Marga." The dragon bore Him from the shore. "I die in joy, sweet Marga!" Thus came the joyance of the rose, 'Beside the River Sarga, When royal miss A lout may kiss, As once did Lady Marga. And none may say A word of nay, For thus kissed Princess Marga! Antsley scrambled to his feet. "I'm going to find a Marga beside the River Sarga." "Oh, go to blazes if you want to !" I said and went back into the joys of rose-madness. Then I turned and saw her. She had removed her mask and was twining flowers in her hair. Spun gold it was, and I Find a Rose 53 all alight with the moonbeams that came down out of God's heavens to fondle with and play upon something rarer than they had ever known in the skies. "Oh, you all-beautiful of beautiful women !" I murmured. "The gods are in a kindly mood to-night and have sent you to my eyes. They've found the moulds with which they cast Cleo- patra and Helen of Troy and Dido and Thais and all those women who were so lovely that men still sing their beauty they've found those moulds and in the very joy of the task, they've cast and recast you in every one of them until you became the unbelievable thing you are ! You can't be real ! You were born of the rose breath and the rose blush and the moon glow!" She looked up and smiled. "Give me a rose from your hair," I pleaded. "What! You exact payment for your im- pudence ?" 54 The Stolen Throne "No, I crave largesse from one endowed with all the bounties of the gods." "The gods were kind enough to you, when tongues were being recast !" "Ah lady, your face would call a cloistered monk from his paternosters and start him a-singing love ballades ! "I thought the troubadours had passed away." "Not so, behold me!" "Ah, fortunate I, to command Apollo's lute!" "It is the queen's due," I answered. "Queen of Beauty, Queen of Love, Queen of the Roses!" I continued, "give me one blossom from out of your abounding riches in Lady Marga's name I plead for it. Oh, if there were only a convenient dragon along the Sarga !" "There are dragons along the Sarga," she murmured absently. "Give me the rose and I'll deliver you." I Find a Rose 55 "Here is your guerdon." She laughed and tossed me a half blown bud. I brushed the flower to my lips and, before she could prevent me, I clasped her in my arms and crushed her mouth with a kiss. Struggling free, she stood, apanting, quiv- ering fury! "Oh, if I thought you knew," she hissed be- tween clenched teeth, and went away into the night. "Sir Troubadour!" The voice came from the other side of the bush it was Antsley's. I found him with the missing part of the domino which I carried in my pocket. "Do you know what you just did?" he queried, lighting a cigarette. "I've found The Woman!" His match blew out and he waited to strike another before replying. "Precisely," he said, "and by the same token, Her Reigning Highness, Gurtha, Grand Duchess of Stromburg!" / Ride with the Duke CHAPTER V. "1 Ride With the Duke." IATURAL history divides the ass family into something like four- teen groups, but makes no men- tion of that large and dis- tinguished branch the human ass; of which collateral, old man, you happen to be a distinguished member ! That's right, show your nature and sulk. Oh ! but you've made a brilliant fool of yourself. 'Give me the rose and I'll deliver you.' That from the misogynist of one brief week ago the broken-hearted and forsaken one ! Parker, in the strictest confidence, you're a damned ass!" This was at least the dozenth such scarify- ing screed to which I had listened that morning, after a heart-to-heart talk the night before, which I had terminated by losing my temper and turning the key in my door. 60 The Stolen Throne "It was better than a love scene at the Drury Lane," he went on, "my, but you would have brought down the house. By Gad, here's an idea! Make it into a 'drammer' and play the lead. If you could only get the Duchess to co-star, you'd realize a fortune. I can see the playbills now : 'The Distinguished Actor-Manager, Mr. Thomas Parker, Supported by Her Reigning Highness, Gurtha, Duchess of Stromburg, In the Season's Triumphant Success, The Troubadour/ " Whitworth came into the room. "I say, what's the joke?" he asked. I darted a furious, withal, appealing glance at my tormentor. "I've a great mind to tell him." "If you do," I whispered, "I'll cut you for quits, here and now." I Ride With the Duke 61 The laugh died out of his eyes at the de- termined note in my voice. "Get the nags for us ?" he asked Whitworth. "Yes, they're downstairs now. But what's amusing you so? Deuced piggish of you to keep it all to yourselves. A fellow doesn't get many chances to laugh among these stolid folk. Well, if you won't you won't, so let's be off be- fore the sun gets high." We rode through the town at an easy canter and set out for the hills. The crisp air took the burn out of the sun's rays and turned August into October. We soon had the city behind us and were among the mountains within an hour. I rode in silence, wrapped in the memories of the night before. I tortured myself with fantasies through which there crept the sensuous fragrance of roses. I swore that I would reach her, even though she were the Czarina herself, and even 62 The Stolen Throne while I deluded myself with these dreams, I knew that I was a fool ! But, having eyes, I refused to see. I, who had forsworn love, who still smarted from one heart-scorch, was deliberately building- fires anew, upon which I was to place my soul itself and perhaps sear it for all time. Whitworth's voice broke the thread of my revery. "What do you think of His High- ness ?" he asked. "His Highness, you mean oh yes the Duke! Yes, yes, that is who in thunder iyhe?" "A large, sharp, pricking thorn in the corps- diplomatic's side. He's supposed to be in com- mand of the field maneuvers of the Russian Engineer Corps. The Czar's borders are only a few hundred miles beyond the range of hills there. Two years ago the Russian Government invited itself 'by special request of the Duchess' I Ride With the Duke 63 to hold a review here and has been reviewing ever since." "But those officers the other night were not Russians," I broke in. "Uncommonly queer, it seems to me, his influence over them." "The Duke Alexis is and is not. He wears the uniform of the Czar and is at the same time, potentially pretender to the throne of Stromburg !" This was interesting. I pressed nearer. "Tell me about it." "There's not much to tell. Russia is trying to get him on the throne. France, Germany, and England are determined to keep him off." The sound of horses, hard ridden, broke sharply on our ears. I turned in the saddle. Alexis galloped out of the road to our right at the head of a company of Cossacks. A fine figure of a man he was. The joy of life vibrated all through his being and showed in his proud seat and royally posed shoulders. 64 The Stolen Throne His astrakhan cap with its white egret was tilted to one side of his head. The sharp winds of the hills had cut his cheeks into a ruddiness that contrasted pleasingly with his yellow hair. No man save a demi-centaur could have held the white Arab beneath him, under such mas- terful control. He spoke to an orderly and the soldier left his side and rode over to us. We drew rein. The man addressed Whit- worth. "The Duke invites us to ride with him/' ha said. Alexis nodded for me to take place beside him. I must confess that I was pleased at his mark of favor. The man fascinated me in some untoward way. I could not help liking him, despite the realization of the cruelty in his eyes and the sneering lips that lied in habitual smile. iHe considerately checked the pace of his stal- I Ride With the Duke 65 lion to accommodate my less mettlesome mount." "You ride well," he said. "A Master of the Hounds must," I replied. "Tell me of this great English sport." "Ah!" he exclaimed when I described the hunt, "your fox is a stupid fellow and a craven who does not use his fangs. For me the glories of a wolf hunt! Then, one has a worthy quarry. Some day, perhaps you may know what it is to ride after the wolf. But I warn you there shall be wound for wound given death bite for death bite. How long do you remain in Stromburg?" "A day a year who knows ?" "Your mission is ?" "Caprice. And you?" I asked. He shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps a 'day perchance a year. Mr. Whitworth tells me that he shall be at the Palace to-morrow. Do you attend him?" 66 The Stolen Throne A thrill ran through me at his words and I felt myself flush. He eyed me quizzically and laughed. "Your ride has reddened your face. Your cheeks are red," he paused tentatively, "as roses. Mr. Parker, what do you think of the roses of Stromburg ? Are they not rare ?" I moved uneasily in the saddle and mentally consigned Antsley to regions unnamable, for a hare-brained babbler. "I did not think that the fire of romance burned in the veins of you phlegmatic Britons," he went on. "Really, my dear fellow, you were entrancing. I couldn't for the life of me escape eavesdropping. I was nearby with a dryad of my own." I felt like a fool. There are times when one's love-pleadings grate damnably on the memory. He saw that I was getting nettled and tactfully changed the trend of the conversation to im- personal topics. I Ride With the Duke 67 A carriage was sweeping in our direction with a file of cavalrymen deployed to either side. On the back seat sat an old man in the uniform of a Chief of Staff. Alexis gave a quick command in Russian and his company drew up to one side of the road. When the victoria was abreast of us Alexis raised his hat in salute. Then I saw that the carriage held another occupant and at sight of her, a cry, too quick to check, burst from my lips. She bowed to Alexis but her eyes held no sign of recognition for me. And yet they met and held my own for one brief moment. But for the life of me I could not read the message. The South Gate at Eleven CHAPTER VI. 'The South Gate at Eleven" |S I sit here at the loom of mem- ory, speeding my shuttle of words, I find that mine is an inept hand the fabric that I weave is coarse and burred, its pattern crude the tones in dis- cord. I am indeed an ambitious craftsman for I would gather the love-scented breaths of rec- ollection and out of them tapestry the image of the loveliest lady that ever God's grace crowned, that you may know how utterly she was above all womankind. But it is not for clumsy words to justice the moon-silver or the songs of the June woods the softest imagery bruises their tender beauty ! How then may I tell you of Gurtha? She towered above her women as Helen 72 The Stolen Throne must have shamed the beauties of the Trojan court. It was at once a million ages and a fleeting second until I stood before her. And had it not been that Antsley's jolting elbow brought me back to earth, I swear that I should have stood waiting there at the foot of the throne, until the day of doom split the East. As I made my bow she dropped her hand- kerchief. I stooped for it at the same moment as one of her maids-in-waiting. As our hands touched for an instant, she slipped something into my palm. At the first favorable opportunity I un- clenched my fingers and found a slip of paper. It was unsigned and bore a single sentence : ''The south gate at eleven to-night" I was on hand long before the stated time. Promptly on the appointed hour a woman stepped through. As she walked into the light I recognized her as the lady-in-waiting who The South Gate at Eleven 73 had pressed the message upon me. I walked toward her and she instantly withdrew, beckon- ing me to follow. Within, two officers stood at attention. One remained at his post but the other led us along a narrow passage that wound upward to some height. At a curtained door he stopped and signalled me to remain with him, while the woman drew aside the draperies and went within. Immediately she returned. "Go through the door to your right," she whis- pered. I turned the knob, and, coming directly out of the darkness, was at first blinded by the light. Then, as my eyes became accustomed to the brightness, I found myself in the presence of the Grand Duchess. For some while she merely stared at me with impersonal scrutiny when she did speak her words stung into me like the bite of cold steel. "Once a kinswoman of mine gave her lips for kiss to a man of the people. He died that she 74 The Stolen Throne might live. They say that when he met his fate, his face was lit with a smile and there was song in his soul ; for he had been honored above all his fellows and there was no man, among the nobles of her father's court, who did not envy him his lot and wish to be in his stead. For we of Stromburg have ever been proud and haughty women, and we count our virtue above the crown itself." She paused a moment then continued: "When you first saw me you did not know my identity. It was a new experience for me to be as the other women are, and to know men as they know them. It was a pretty play. You were not content to have it so. You must needs crush the butterfly hour. But I was generous I did not have you punished. If by chance you did learn the truth, I thought that you would understand and leave Stromburg. But you remained. You cheapened me. Yesterday when my carriage passed you in the Griinwold The South Gate at Eleven 75 you dared raise your shameless eyes to mine for recognition. To-day, cloaked with the position of your friends, you presumed to enter my palace. That was the ultimate insult. I did not wish a scene. I knew of no other way to make you realize how hateful I find your pres- ence in Stromburg and so I have made this rendezvous to tell you that you must pay for your unutterable insolence by crossing my borders to-night." "Your Grace," I answered, and my tones trembled at the hurt of her contempt. "I am an Englishman and when we play we pay. As for shame, I feel none. Shame is the self- acknowledgment of wrong. It is no wrong for a man to love a woman. For when first I saw you then I loved you with all the heart in me. Love is God in man. It is truth that sees noth- ing hears nothing knows nothing, save it- self. I did not know who you were I only saw what you were all else was nothing. Had you The Stolen Throne sat in your coronation robes with the sceptre in your hand and the crown upon your head, I should have loved you. Had I found you in the scullery of a wayside inn, I should have loved you !" She walked to where I stood and placed both her hands upon my shoulders. Long and earnestly did she look into my eyes. And I trembled in every tendon at the con- tact. "I think I shall trust you," she said. / Undertake a Mission CHAPTER VII. 7 Undertake a Mission." EYOND the palace grounds there is an inn, much frequented by Russian soldiers. As Gurtha spoke there was a crash of glass and immediately after a party of horsemen began to tear up and down the street ululating like fiends. One dare-devil stood up in his saddle and danced from side to side as he galloped along. Up and down he rode the others thunder- ing after him, making the night a livid hell with their cries. Gurtha stood at the window watching the _scene. "The dogs," she muttered through her clenched teeth. A bell cord hung near her. She seized it and tugged with all the might of her woman's arm. While she was still ringing, 8o The Stolen Throne the officer who had remained in the passage, rushed into the room, his face torn with ex- citement, naked sabre in hand. His eyes threat- eningly sought me and questioningly Gurtha. "Andrew," she commanded, "To-morrow go to the Duke and present my compliments. Tell him it is my will that his Cossacks be kept within barracks at night. Tell him that I am annoyed by their outbursts that I await an apology for this outrage. Go !" An instant later we could hear him pacing down the corridor, his scabbard beating the stones. "Your Grace has honored me with her trust," I began, taking up our conversation at its cut "a trust without a confidence is a setting that lacks its jewel." "Listen, then !" she burst forth. "What you saw this moment is but one of the many forms of insult that have been continuously thrust upon me for months. I am a wax I Undertake a Mission 81 doll on a toy throne. To-morrow even to-night, Russia may demand my abdication. Thus far the jealousy of the other powers has been my only buffer. First Russia pro- posed that I marry Orloff, the Czar's cousin. I rejected the match. Then they wanted me to marry Alexis. I refused him. I'll wed as I choose, and when I choose and whom I choose. Finally the Russian War Office intimated that it would be honored by an ' 'invitation" to manoeuvre an army corps in Stromburg. The request was a veiled command, and I complied. "A month later Alexis came to press his suit in person. He talked of love of devotion of passion. I laughed at him as I had laughed at the state marriage brokers. When they found .that they could not marry Gurtha they began plans to marry Stromburg. "Blitzow, the sharpest claw of the White Bear, has been transferred from Paris to this unimportant duchy. Already he has insinuated 82 The Stolen Throne to my ministers that I must reconsider my re- fusal of Alexis whom he now advances as a claimant to my throne." "But the man is a Russian," I cried. "They swear that he is the direct descendant of Marcus, whose reign antedated the Holz- dorn dynasty. Russia threatens to support his pretensions if needs be by force !" "But surely the other powers will never per- mit this !" "Wait until the crux is reached. England will roar France will threaten the Kaiser will bluster, but, depend upon it, when the bear growls they will leave the field. They no longer fear Russia but they do mistrust one another. Europe is not yet ready for the grand war of the century, nor is Stromburg a prize worthy of its precipitation. What plans are being hatched in the old Cathedral " At these words I sprang to her side every I Undertake a Mission 83 sense alert ! In my eagerness I even laid hold of her arm. "The Cathedral ?" I questioned. "The Russians are barracked there " "My God! I think I see." "What do you mean what do you know?" "Your Grace, to-morrow I may be able to tell you much that you would not now understand." I had already gained the door when her voice arrested me. "Stop !" she cried imperiously. I returned to her side. "Your Highness," I said, "you told me a little while ago that you would trust me. Begin now. Give me to-night for myself and you may command all my life after." In a moment I had reached the street. I hailed a passing fiacre. When we reached the hotel I threw a handful of silver into the astonished palm of the man and rushed up the stairs three steps to the stride. Antsley was in 84 The Stolen Throne the room with Christof. "What in thundera- tion is the matter ?" he cried. Christof discreetly withdrew to the keyhole from which coign of vantage Antsley immedi- ately coaxed him with a kick. "Ted," I cried, "I've seen her." Then I told him everything. "Well, what in the deuce are you going to do ?" he asked when he had heard me out. "I'm going to the Cathedral and get what the old queen hid under the stone. I'm going to get it if I have to dig up every block in the place." "And if it's gone?" "Then I'll know Russia's game and I'll block it!" "Nice contract," he drawled. "Here is a man setting out to do that, single-handed, which all the king's horses and all the king's men wouldn't dare tackle with all the king's navy to back 'em up." I Undertake a Mission 85 I slid a revolver into my pocket and took down one of the rapiers Ted had bought. He fished out a curved-end chisel from the depths of his trunk and handed it to me. Where on earth he had secured it, or how, I never learned. Slipping into the hall, I crept softly down the back stairs, noiselessly drew the bolts and stepped out into the street. In the distance the massive spires of the cathedral rose towering to the heavens, their golden crosses resting in the bosom of the stars. Ecarte CHAPTER VIII. "Ecertt." moon was n a pryng humor that night but there was a deep shadow under the trees and I walked along without be- ing observed. I reached the Cathedral just as the watch was being changed, so I slunk back into the trees until the sentry had started off on his rounds. The moment he turned the corner, I stole across to the gate but found that it was barred. This was unfortunate, as I could not risk the fence, tipped as it was, with spearheads. While I was debating what to do, I heard the rumble of wheels and the soldier returned walking be- side a heavy cart. The gate creaked open and the wagon passed in. Soon I heard the cart returning. I stole to the shadow of one of the granite posts and 90 The Stolen Throne picking up a rock, threw it straight ahead of me. "What's that," I heard the soldier say. He and the driver craned their necks in the direction of the noise. "It sounded as though something fell," the man replied. Here was my opportunity. Crouching under the body of the wagon I crawled across the stretch of moonlight on my hands and knees. They were too intent to notice me and I slipped within and managed to reach a great oak be- side the path. After a moment of listening the soldier laughed. "Oh, I guess it was nothing. Good-night, Heinrich, and don't forget to carry my love to your sweet Beulah. She's far too pretty and buxom to keep cooped up in the country with pigs." "Better with pigs in the country than in the barracks" was the sharp reply. Ecarte 9 1 The gate was barred again, the sentry re- turned to his little shed, and resting his head against its side, soon fell asleep. I ran across the grass, always keeping within the shadows, and soon gained the build- ing. I paused for a moment to get my bear- ings, then counted five windows from the north- east corner of the building. With the aid of the vines with which the walls were covered, I soon grasped the ledge. The rapier was in my way, however, so I took it between my teeth and selecting a place where the leaves were fewest so as to make the least possible rustle, I drew myself up. I made more noise than I thought, however, for as I was steadying myself on the precarious footing I was suddenly seized by the legs. Then a revolver-barrel was pressed against my side. Glancing down I saw that it was Alexis. He evidently did not distinguish my features in the darkness for he called out to know who 92 The Stolen Throne I was and what I wanted. Seeing that escape was impossible, I released my bite upon the sword, letting it fall with a dull thud upon the grass. "It's I, Parker." "Pray come in out of the night air, mon cher ami," he said, and motioned me into the room. A lamp was burning on the table but a thick shade over the window had completely cloaked its rays from without. "First pass me your revolver. I shall retain it as a souvenir. Rapier, revolver, and as I live, a curved chisel. How romantic of you to come and rob me, of what shall I say of my sleep? Do pour yourself a bit of cognac you must be quite exhausted after such an arduous climb, and pray be seated. No, not there. You would be too near the window and the night air might prove a bit injurious to your consti- tution." Ecarte 93 I took the chair he indicated, at the farthest end of the room. "Well," I remarked, "What do you propose to do with me?" "Really, I haven't as yet considered the situ- ation. Your visit is quite a surprise. You see your message failed to reach me." "What message?" "Why, surely you sent word that you in- tended to spend the lonely morning hours with me. You can't imagine how much I appreciate your delicate consideration. But, pardon me. I forget myself. Do you care for a cigarette. No? I'm sorry that I haven't a cigar as you may prefer the more substantial smoke !" I drew a per fee to from my pocket and, light- ing it, settled back into the chair. He leaned forward and waved an airy hand to me. "You are such a delightfully unconventional chap," he went on. "Now that was a unique idea of yours to choose the window instead of 94 The Stolen Throne the door. We, of the continent, are so com- pletely bound by convention and propriety." He placed my revolver on the table, keeping it within a second's reach. "But I am delighted to have you here and shall enjoy your companionship. Queer quar- ters, eh ? The building was originally a cathe- dral. These lower chambers are very quiet and removed. You will notice how remarkably preserved the place is ! They built well, the old masons. Observe the walls, for example! How ponderous they are! Why an artillery salute, fired here, would scarcely be heard a revolver shot, never!" He paused to light a fresh cigarette and puffed it abstractedly. He took up my revol- ver and toyed with the chambers, twirling them 'round and 'round examining the cartridges. Then he arose and walking to my chair, stood for a while peering into my face. Ecarte 95 "Parker," he said, "You are foolish. Why weren't you content with your fox. This time you're after game much too big for you. Don't deceive yourself. I am aware of your little rendezvous to-night. And so you thought to pit yourself against me." He laughed softly. "The woman has indeed made a fool of you." He paused and reflected a moment, was irreso- lute and then shook his head with decision. "I'm not going to ask you to come over to our side. I know how stubbornly loyal you Englishmen are. On the other hand, you can't reasonably expect me to permit you to depart. It is quite unfortunate! And yet the incident to follow will be so uninteresting and colorless ! Why, it's like hunting deer in a treeless en- " closure. I'm half inclined to make it a bit ex- citing throw some red light on the scene and spice the affair with a dash of the dramatic. Ah," ruminatingly, "it's not a bad idea at all." "Are you a good card player?" he asked 96 The Stolen Throne presently. Then without waiting for my reply he went on. "I think we shall make it ecarte. It will be so apropos, you know kings and queens play such a vital part in the short deck. Come, my friend, while we live let us make the most of our earthly pleasures. As the poet says, 'Life is short and joys are fleeting/ Correct me if I misquote. But we must have a stake. Now what can possibly make the play worth while to you ? Let me see let me see. Suppose we say rapiers, eh?" He motioned to a pair of swords on the wall behind him. I jumped up . "Is this a trick?" I demanded. "My friend," he answered softly, "you are excited." He motioned me to a pack of cards on the table. "Cut for deal What a game it will be ! Of course, it's all the same thing in the end. At Ecarte 97 any event I shall make sure that you are no longer an interference to my plans and as a sportsman I don't know but that I prefer to see you hold the winning card. At the best you have one chance in ten to sugar your morning coffee." "I'll take the tenth chance and enjoy the pleasure and the coffee,"! retorted. "First win the sword." "I mean to," I replied. "Cut," he commanded. "What have you?" I asked. "The knave of hearts and you ?" "The queen of spades," I replied. "An augury!" he exulted. "You see the fates are with me. The knave holds highest .-power in our game the queen is vanquished at the start. "Play," I answered. "The trump is hearts. I lead the ace of spades to which your queen falls. Now I play 98 The Stolen Throne the knave of hearts and take your ten. I fol- low with the ace of diamonds." I caught the trick with the trump ace and threw out the ace of clubs, catching his king. "It grows delightful," he said. "Even tricks!" I still held the queen of hearts. I threw the pasteboard on the table and leaned forward. Would the man never play ! He bent over the board studying my lead. It was a gamble for a throne ! The pictured monarchs had sprung to life the fate of Stromburg lay in the cast of the Russian. And as I sat waiting for him to end his farce I swore by that which was strong and sure and cunning in me to kill this man ! At last he threw down the card it was the nine of hearts. He had fluked with his knave! "The queen wins!" I cried, "and by God's grace she'll reign on and hold her throne!" Then some heaven sent inspiration seized me and I leaped forward, just in time to grasp his hand as he raised the revolver ! / Slay the Dragon CHAPTER IX. 7 Slay the Dragon." |Y hell, you shan't," I cried. "You'll play fair." We swayed over the opposite sides of the table and in the struggle it over- turned, hurling him to the floor. Quick to seize my advantage, I leapt upon it driving all the breath from his body and leaning over, grasped his hand, easily wrenching the revolver from his weakened grip. Soon he was purple with suffocation but terror gave him voice and blanched his face, mottling its horrible greenish white with livid spots. I placed the muzzle against his fore- head, but could not bring myself to press the trigger. The horror of death crept into his eyes, and in his terror he sobbed like a child. "God knows you don't deserve it," I cried, 102 The Stolen Throne "but I can't do murder. Get up and take a sword." At the first kiss of the steels I knew that he was my master. I have met the best men of their day at Heidelberg. I have seen Aubrun make the cleverest swordsmen of the French army seem like gawky country louts. But this man was surpassing. His rapier darted with the swiftness of a viper's tongue. Now his grip was adamant again he scarcely seemed to grasp his blade. He divined my every thrust and parried it with supercilious ease and grace. I did not dare expose myself. Mine was a play of de- fense. Once he forced me back into a corner and rained blow after blow so fiercely and con- tinuously that my arm became numb and had he not slipped upon the cards, lying scattered on the floor, I would have had my coup de grace then and there. As it was, his point tore me in a ripping slash from breast to waist, I Slay the Dragon 103 drawing the blood in pumping, sickening spurts As we fenced, Alexis grew more resourceful and calm, and gradually changed his play, dis- continuing the furious onslaughts but circling 'round me instead, feinting in such wise as to seemingly lay himself open hoping to draw a thrust from me. But I had learned his power and was not to be tempted. A calm had come upon me, too, but it was that of despair. The loss of blood was telling upon my strength and clouding my eye. Every time I moved my sword-arm, the wound seemed to tear itself agape. My shirt was drenched. The thick, warm stream oozed down my leg and when I stamped my foot, there was a soggy swish. The end could not be far off. What a fool I was, not to have blown out his brains when he lay helpless under the table ! God knows I did not want to die ! Life held 104 The Stolen Throne too much just then. Morning had begun to break. A copper streak was dyeing the horizon, casting its metallic glow up toward the stars as they stared down on me in my despair. And I had to know the night just when the day of life was dawning. I wondered if Gurtha would ever know that I had given my life to her cause? Perhaps in the end, she would wed him ! No, hell's own furies, no, not that ! The very thought burned a strengthening jealousy within me. I might die, but God would give me might to keep this man from reigning in Stromburg. I felt my veins surge with a hotter pulsing. My lips bled where I crunched my teeth into them. Something of what was flash- ing through my brain must have shown in my face, for Alexis withdrew a pace and became more cautious. I made an advance upon him and managed to tear his cheek. I laughed at ' the sight of his blood. I reviled him. I taunted him. I jeered at his pretensions. I sneered I Slay the Dragon 105 at his chances. I called him adventurer and mountebank, I mocked at his origin. I soon had him lashed into a fury. He was no longer the calm, calculating duelist, but a demon frenzied with passion, thrusting, slashing, driving his way around the room, uttering horrible, gurgling snarls, like a dumb man on the rack. I drew back from him, holding his eyes with my own. I led him on to where he had wounded me. We were in the corner. He was now standing on the scattered cards, this time slimy with my blood. I crouched low and stealthily lifted one foot high against the wall, pressing all my energy into that leg as one would bear down upon a coiled spring. With a chuckle he drew back to spit me and in his eagerness exposed himself. It was my moment. Crouching like a leopard be- fore his strike, I hurled myself with the force of a catapult straight at him. The savagery and impetus of my attack dismayed him he io6 The Stolen Throne started back but slipped upon the cards and lost his guard. My shortened sword bit into him while he was still falling and, missing his heart, dug through the throat up, up to the brain, fasten- ing itself into the very bones of his head. There was a sickening spurt of blood that caught me full in the face and he was dead. His head fell upon the fateful stone. Shud- dering at the touch of him, I rolled the still pulsing body to one side and, kneeling, pried out the seventh block. Reaching down my hand closed on a bundle of papers with which I at once hastened to the lamp. There were some official documents, an unmounted miniature of a girl holding an in- fant in her .arms, and a faded letter addressed to Andreas, Grand Duke of Stromburg, of Damnar, of Wurlitz, of Marburg, Baron Garth and a list of other titles which I did not take time to decipher. The formal instruments I :>IL 'i-~^4 - If I Slay the Dragon 107 merely glanced through, they were only im- portant as establishing the status of Helga's son. But this letter aroused my interest. It was a brave message to the child she was never again to see, a command that he fulfill the des- tiny of his blood, a cry for vengeance upon the wrong done his line. But it was more than a mother's appeal, it was besides, a wise, far- sighted woman's love reaching up from the grave to guide her son's future; for, realizing that Sir Seton's testimony of events and even the papers and jewels in his possession might be subject to discredit, Helga had set forth in her own hand, the events that led to Andreas' flight and the trust imposed upon my ancestor. Point for point, it tallied with Sir Seton's own _-story, and attested with her personal seal, it left but little vestige of doubt as to the legitimacy of the child's succession. "Yet of what avail now," I mused, as I placed the papers in my pocket. After all, they io8 The Stolen Throne were worthless and I had bought them at the highest bid in the auction of circumstance, with the life of a fellow man. At the thought I shook with a chill and the high tension by which I had been held, relaxed. A fit of laugh- ter the hysteria of a man who has just stood on the verge of the eternal, and who has held his own by the merest whim of fate, overcame me. I wanted to lie down and give way to the impulses that were seeking to dominate my will, but I realized that at any moment some- one might find me there. The same surge of warning urged me to remove all clues that might lead to an after-discovery. I fitted the stone back into its place, found my revolver and chisel and cautiously opened the casement. The dizziness which I had experienced dur- ing the struggle tried to return to me, but I gritted my teeth and willed it away, stepped upon the ledge and, holding to the vines with a grip that tore my palms, clambered down to I Slay the Dragon 109 safety. With faltering steps and every sense as alert as I could rouse it, I manouevered my way back to the gates. My first thought was to wait until they were unbarred and trust to Providence for an unnoticed exit. But it was asking too much of opportunity to expect the same chances that had favored me when I en- tered. There was only one egress left, the fence, and I was not equal to the strain of mounting it. Then it came to me that I had left my rapier lying under the window, where it had fallen when I essayed the vines. If that were discov- ered, it would certainly lead to my detection, as its newness would suggest a careful round of the shops and maybe result in my connection with the tragedy. So back again I slunk, and, feeling around in the high grass, found the sword. By this time my wound was paining me fear- fully and I had to sit down until the more vio- no The Stolen Throne lent paroxysms eased a bit. Already the east- ern sky was aglow and its light showed me a file of soldiers emerging from an outbuilding at the other end of the grounds. They did not catch sight of me, for I instantly flattened my- self. And very happily, too, for in doing so I discovered an unbarred window opposite my head. It evidently belonged to a chamber un- der the nave of the cathedral. There was no doubt now, that any attempt to leave by the regular exit would be futile. I had no alternative. I must try this opening. So, arousing sufficient energy to crawl over to it, I clutched the sill, set my arms for a long drop, and, to my surprise, found that my feet touched the ground as soon as I allowed my limbs to fall. I stood in a low passageway. Far ahead of me a slit -of light showed itself dully. I re- moved my shoes and creeping along in my stockinged feet, came in a short while to an unsecured door, beyond which lay water. It I Slay the Dragon in was one of the city's canals and not far away were the tottering steps of an old bridge. Within another hour, what with dodging and caution, I found my way back to the Con- tinental. I had barely sufficient strength to crawl to my room and hide my blood-stained garments deep down in my trunk to roughly bind the cut in my side to dimly realize that Antsley had come through his door and was helping me into bed when unconsciousness stole my senses and I faded into nothingness. of the Duchess CHAPTER X. 'The Peril of the Duchess" HRISTOF was excited. He bustled around arranging and disturbing anything upon which he could lay his hands, punctu- ating his movements with sighs and ominous shakings of the head. When Frieda came with the linens, he slipped out into the hallway after her, and I could hear them whispering together. "They've brought him to the palace and he's there in the great hall with soldiers all around. The master says they are going to take away our lady." The man's reply was inarticulate, but through the half open door I could see the twitching of his neck muscles and he gripped fiercely the great horn-handled knife in his belt. "If they do by the good God " n6 The Stolen Throne Frieda held a warning finger to her lips and drew him out of earshot. A moment afterwards he came back into the room. Had I heard the dreadful news ? No ? The great Duke Alexis had been found dead in a small room of the old Cathedral with a sword- thrust through his neck. No one knew when or how he died. All the sentries were under arrest, but it was common rumor that they were not really suspected. It was said but no, he must say nothing. One must be as deaf and dumb as Old Peter Strumpf at such a time when a word would set a man to counting the stones of a dungeon cell. Still it was said he must whisper very closely to my ear that the Russians were coming to seize the country and take her away. He had heard too But I had already listened too long. "You may go now, and Christof a still tongue remains in its mouth many years." The Peril of the Duchess 117 My God, what was there to do ? I sat down on the bed. My head jumped and throbbed with crazed uncertainty. How plain it all was ! Russia would regard Alexis' death as a pretext to seize Stromburg. Gurtha would be made the scapegoat. And I had rendered the way easy for it. My plans had carried but their fruition lay in the hands of the enemy. And here I lay swathed with bandages and likely to be upon my back for days. Something had to be done. Weak and fever- ish though I was, I managed by sheer hysteria to rise and get into my clothes. I drew out the iron box. The papers, the coronet and the jewels were still there, mockingly safe. I was just placing Sir Seton's narrative in my -pocket, along with the documents I had secured the night before, when somebody whistled. I looked up at Antsley. "Damned good for you," he said, "So you got them?" n8 The Stolen Throne I nodded. "And him ?" he added grimly. "Yes, and him," I answered. "Thank God, then." "What do you mean ?" "I mean, old man, that wound or no wound you must manage to get to the palace at once. I mean that there's merry hell to pay. Whit- worth says that the diplomatic corps is girding up its loins and there's brimstone in the air. Blitzow has established communication with St. Petersburg and is about to demand the abdication of Gurtha. The Russians are prac- tically in possession now. They've posted sol- diers all through the town and are mounting a battery out here on the Plaza. Burton, Von Holburn and de Nevers are hopping wild, but they can't make up their minds just how far to go. There'll be trouble, none the less, before it's over. The army has practically sold out to Blitzow, but these people here, aren't going to The Peril of the Duchess 1 1 9 give up their Duchess if fighting to the end can save her. Every man you see is bulky at the waist and little groups of them are gather- ing on every corner. It will be a vain resist- ance though. A volley or so, the machine guns, and then the Cossacks ! God help them ! They can do nothing. And God help her. But you can do something and you will. You know, and you'll tell what you know. You'll do what I would what you'd want me to do. Old man, it will be a beautiful thing to die for her." We spoke but once after that. We had been walking along, I busy with my thoughts, al- though I could feel Antsley's gaze on my face all the way. When we came in sight of the palace he put his hand caressingly on my shoulder "You'll do it?" he pleaded. And I answered as in a dream: "It will be a beautiful thing to die for her." A detail of Cossacks was posted before i2o The Stolen Throne the gates. They were squatted on the ground grasping their horses 5 bridles. On the esplanade were several machine guns and two six pounders had been placed to com- mand either gateway. Belts and pyramids of ammunition were piled beside them and the crews busied themselves oiling the breeches and sighting distances. As we attempted to enter an officer came running down the drive, his sword clanking against the furbishments of his uniform. "You cannot enter, gentlemen," he said. "We have important business with Her Grace," Antsley replied. "Her Grace cannot be seen." "But man," I broke in fretfully, "she will see us, she must see us." "I have my orders," was the calm reply. Antsley looked him up and down. "Since when does an officer of the Czar carry the com- mands of the Duchess of Stromburg?" The Peril of the Duchess 121 "I am not here to answer questions." An orderly clattered past us. His horse's flanks were all a'steam and bloody with spur- tears. I noticed that he carried a despatch bag. It was no time for pandering or parley. I drew the officer aside. "All Stromburg can wait," I whispered, meaningly, "and the rest of the world, but I cannot nor Russia." I tore a leaf from my note book and scrawled a sentence: "You hold a shut lock, I, its key." "Take this to M. Blitzow he will give you an answer." An instant after he was back again. "Kindly follow me," he said. We passed through a hall lined with officers, to the audience chamber. The sentry at the door drew aside and we en- tered. Gurtha looked up and half inclined her head in recognition. Never had she been so magnificent, never more haughty, never so royal. Blitzow motioned us to be seated. He was 122 The Stolen Throne reading the dispatches which the courier had just brought. The man stood beside him. Two privates of the Engineer Corps came through, one bearing a coil of telegraph wire, the other a keyboard. They passed in front of us and conferred for a moment with Blitzow. Burton sat alone, biting his nails. De Nevers paced up and down, in his nervousness tapping his teeth with a fountain pen. Von Holborn chatted in subdued tones with a court official. And in the centre of the room, draped with the Eagle of Russia and the black and green of Stromburg, was a long black "something" with waxen tapers burning at its head and a sword resting across. Antsley walked over to the bier and drew back a fold of the flags. Then he came to his seat again and sat drumming noiselessly on his knees. I turned 'round to him. He smiled. "That was a damned pretty thrust," he whis- pered. The Man with the Nose CHAPTER XI. 'The Man With the Nose" LADIMIR BLITZOW was a diplomat. His eyes, his mouth, his nose spelled the word. And what a nose it was! Not a mere shapeless pudge, stuck thoughtlessly on to complete the symmetry of a face, but a fine, large dis- tingue (what shall I say?) speaking pon- derosity! It rose to perilous heights, into the very bush of his eyebrows, then swooped down in one long curve, until it fairly overhung his nether lip. It was a gorgeous affair, heavy with Tyrian purples and soulful blues and all overrun with a network of tiny, red veins for all the world like a range of irrigating canals. At times a waxen calm overspread its surface. Then you could know that the great mind was at peace 126 The Stolen Throne and that affairs of state were at the moment laid aside for the fillip of small talk and the zest of quip and epigram. To-day it fairly pulsated and swelled with excitement, and gleamed for all the world like a great carbuncle, afire with its own color- passion. Perhaps that selfsame nose gave rise to rumors of a Semitic strain. Many were the conjectures as to Blitzow's past. It was hinted in certain quarters that he had risen to the broader and more scopeful espionage of inter- national diplomacy from a lowly station in the secret police while others as positively as- serted that he had begun life as valet to the Grand Duke O , supplying information which brought about the exposure of that ill- fated dreamer's plan for a liberal Russia. Blitzow's presence anywhere was much akin to the sight of a distant vulture somebody usually happened to die if not in the flesh, at Vladimir Blitzow was a diplomat ; his eyes, his mouth, his nose spelled the word ' ' The Man With the Nose 127 least politically. Often it was a state. Rulers of advantageously placed little principalities instinctively cast about them for their ablest counsellors when Blitzow appeared upon the scene, and the other powers lost no time in send- ing to the place of his alighting, a convenient cruiser and a crisis-tried agent. Diplomacy was Blitzow's god and he sacri- * need all at the altar of his divinity. No action could be mean or petty or despicable in his sight if the ends of diplomacy could be served. He was a zealous enthusiast of the lie. "A good lie," he once said, "is the cleverest thing in all the world. It arranges its own antecedents and sequence. It is a perfect circle, comprehending all emergencies and possibili- ties. Now truth is such an irregular affair. When and where it has birth no one knows. Its source is often a tiny spring, away back in the affairs of men as likely as not, generations gone. It flows through the years and joins the 128 The Stolen Throne broad current of the present, losing its own identity, and trending toward the unknown. You embark your cockleshell into its current and drift, ignorant of whence or thence. Truth is a dangerous water for ships of state. Only a fool would trust it. There is no art, no clever- ness in its nature. A good lie is the highest achievement of genius. It is its own destiny. It shapes the past, moulds the present as it will, guides the future. Thersites and Machiavelli were patterns for all ages of clever men. Washington was an accident." The lie was indeed his cult. Burton's blunt ways were likely to prove no match for that keen, unscrupulous intellect. Von Holborn hadn't the sharpness of Blitzow's little finger in his whole ponderous makeup. De Nevers feared him. They had measured swords before and the sting of each defeat was a never-healing wound in the Frenchman's vanity. The Man With the Nose 129 The field was indeed Russia's. Blitzow peered at his colleagues over the edge of his pincenez. There was an ill-sup- pressed triumph, an insulting confidence in his glance. Alexis' death had been at first thought, a fearful non-plus to all his calculations, but the knight that was lost had suddenly opened the way to a more coveted queen. The death of the man affected him in no wise. Alexis had been a mere pawn on his board. Nor did the fact that he was wrecking a wo- man's life in the most dastardly manner, occa- sion him the least qualm of conscience. It was convenient necessary, to make Gurtha the in- stigator, if not the actual agent in Alexis* _death. What if she did suffer it was all in the game as he played it. The scattered groups of Stromburgers whom we had noticed on our way to the Palace had joined with one another and were gathered 130 The Stolen Throne outside the grounds. Through the windows I could see them approach in rapidly increasing numbers. Women darted through the crowd wildly gesticulating and haranguing the men. The Cossacks were now mounted and riding in a constant circle, forming a cordon around the populace. Gurtha showed no sign of emotion. Her face was set and dead. It was as of carved marble a beautiful thing of stone. Antsley's eyes did not leave her. Teddy himself was pale and breathing hard. When Blitzow at last came forward, Ted turned round to me and gripped my hand. "It's time, old man," he said. It was indeed time. And yet, although I knew that the moment had come, I wanted to wait. Something within held me back a sort of struggling hope which whispered, despite all reason, that there might be another way. I pressed my hand to The Man With the Nose 131 my heart to still its beatings. My fingers touched upon the papers. A light of inspira- tion flashed upon me and I resolved upon a dar- ing thing. Blitzow was gazing toward me. I started from my seat and went forward a few steps understanding that he wished to speak about the message I had sent. But he motioned me back. Evidently he was not yet prepared for my entry into his little play. Instead he whispered to an officer and the man walked to Gurtha and addressed her. She refused his proffered arm and arose. There was no faltering, no hesitation. She swept by with eyes to the front and shoulders as erect as a genadier's of the guard. An em- _press never on her coronation day held herself with more surpassing majesty and proud grace than did our Lady of Stromburg in this the crisis of her life. When she passed where we sat something 132 The Stolen Throne white fluttered to the floor. I stooped and picked it up. It was a strip of lace torn from her sleeve, but it was more precious to me than all else of the world. The ages rolled back in their folds and I was a knight-errant riding to save my lady. This was my guerdon and I swore eternal faith and fealty to it. Blitzow came forward to greet her, bowing unctuously, his nasal barometer forecasting unutterable triumph. She saw him, but as though she saw him not, ignored his proffered arm, swept past, seated herself and faced us a Duchess of Stromburg, fearless and haughty, before the men who dared to sit in judgment upon her, in these, the halls of her fathers. Blitzow coughed deprecatingly and bowed. "Your Grace," he began. The curtain was up at last. 'But I wondered who would say the "tag" The Pretender CHAPTER XII. "The Pretender." TROMBURG has but one great river, the Sarga. Vessels of heavy tonnage can sail within half a mile of the palace where a great cliff reaches down with abutting arms and forms a small but deep harbour. While the foregoing events were transpiring a man stood upon the cliff, his eyes strained northward. Just before Blitzow began his speech, the looker started and drew a pair of naval glasses from a case at his side and levelled them toward a tiny white thread trail- ing along the horizon. He waited until the top masts of a ship came into sight and then picked up a white flag lying at his feet, which he waved with regular motion right and left and downward. In reply a tiny 136 The Stolen Throne ensign came fluttering to the peak of one of the masts. Repeating his signal once more, he turned and walked rapidly toward the town. Burton looking casually out of the window, caught a glimpse of the flag, wig-wagging out on the cliff and turned away. I wondered at the sud- den change in his features. The jaw muscles were set hard and as his eyes met Blitzow's, a new light came into them, answering the tri- umphant leer of the Russian with a steady, confident gaze. Blitzow was now speaking. "Your Grace is doubtless aware of the ter- rible and sudden fate that has befallen the late Duke of Stromburg" As he uttered Alexis' name he paused sig- nificantly. This was the first time the dead man had been so nominated, and there was an import too plain to be misunderstood in the Russian's words. The emissaries of France The Pretender 137 and Germany exchanged stealthy glances. Burton merely stared squarely into the speak- er's face and smiled. "The deceased was at the moment of his death an officer in the service of His Imperial Majesty, the Czar of the Russias (whom God preserve), and it devolves upon me as the rep- resentative of his government at the court of Stromburg, to acquaint Your Grace that I am called upon to take immediate steps in the in- terests of my master. "The duchy of Stromburg has been for some while an object of notice before the courts of Europe. It is well known that the house of Holzdorn has long usurped the rule of the country. When in 11750 the reigning duke, Marcus, fell under the knife of an assassin, Nicholas of Holzorn seized the throne and forced the line of Marcus into exile. The heir-presumptive, a babe in arms, was spirited away by a faithful retainer, who fled to Russia 138 The Stolen Throne with the infant duke, where asylum was at once granted them, and under that protection the descendants of Marcus' son have since lived. For almost a century and a half no attempt has been made to drive the usurping line from power, until the present Czar enlisted his sym- pathy with the rightful duke, the late Alexis, and lent support to his pretentions. Certain demands would have been laid before Your Grace to-day, but he, ia whose name Russia would have made its address, lies before us, dead, slain within the shadow of his father's throne, stricken as fell Marcus before him, by an assassin's hand! I cannot conceal from Your Grace the fact that Russia holds you re- sponsible for the deed." Antsley gripped my knee and whispered something into my ear. Blitzow paused. "Would that I could give the hands from off my arms, Your Grace," he continued, "rather than utter these words, but The Pretender 139 the dead calls forth from yonder bier for veng- eance, and Russia demands the punishment of his slayer. I am commanded to summon you to St. Petersburg, and in the name of the Czar I declare a protectorate over Stromburg !" Immediately, I was on my feet and striding down the room. Blitzow motioned me back and several officers rushed forward to restrain me, but I evaded them and brushing aside the enraged diplomat, mounted the steps of the throne, and dropping on my knee pressed Gurtha's hand to my lips. Then I turned to the room. No one moved. My unexpected interruption had stricken them dumb with amazement. I motioned to Burton and he wonderingly walked over and sat down beside Blitzow, now white with fury, save for his nose, which radiated every livid tint. "Gentlemen," I cried, "a sweet lady has been cruelly wronged and vilely traduced by this man, who has heaped insult and accusation 140 The Stolen Throne upon her, without a vestige of proof. He has vilified a good woman and tried to render her in your eyes and the eyes of the world a crime- stained murderess, that his petty game of diplomacy may have successful outcome. Gurtha of Stromburg is not an assassin nor does she know at whose hands the dead man there fell." I was calm with confidence. I drew Sir Seton's narrative from my pocket and read. But there was one page which I did not read. Unnoticed by anyone in the room, I had deftly slipped it into my bosom and the world did not learn that the son of Marcus died in infancy. To my astounded audience he had lived to bear progeny and the son of his sons seemed to stand before them now. The faces of the men before me were complex with amazement. Antsley sat spellbound. This was a different denoument than that which he had pictured. I told the story of the discovery which had led The Pretender 141 me to Stromburg. "Here," I cried, producing the papers I had removed from the Cathedral, "are state papers which have lain concealed in Stromburg for more than a century. They establish the identity of the child Andreas they trace my lineage direct to Marcus. Last night I went to remove them from their place of concealment. Alexis met me there. He at- tacked me, and in self-defense I killed him." I turned to Gurtha. There was a smile on my lips. There was joy in my heart which she should share, for had I not preserved her liberty and her throne for her ? But may God to my dying day, save me from another such look of unutterable loathing and scorn as that which she cast upon me. An officer rushed into the room and drew Blitzow to the window where Burton had stood. Just then there came the dull boom of guns from the waters beyond. Burton did not turn 'round but there was that in his face that 142 The Stolen Throne I did not understand. It was more the look of a bulldog about to spring than anything I had ever seen. And I wondered. Steaming up the river, Royal George snap- ping to the wind, came H. M. S. "Determina- tion." A puff of black smoke broke from her side followed by the rumble of her forward gun. At the sound of the salute Blitzow gazed from Burton to me "A pretty coup, messieurs," he hissed. "You mean ?" was Burton's cold reply. "Your claimant and," shrugging his shoul- ders, "your demonstration." "An accident," answered Burton. "If you think that there is the least connection between Mr. Parker's presence in Stromburg and that man o' war, you are in error the events of the last hour are as great a surprise to me, as they were to you." The Russian smiled incredulously. The Pretender 143 "Then may I ask what attitude we may ex- pect for your government in the matter of this preposterous adventurer ?" Here was a new complication for which my kinetoscopic plans of the past hour had not pro- vided. The tentacles of diplomacy had begun to reach around me. "I claim the protection of the British flag," I cried. Blitzow bestowed a keen glance upon me. "But you are by your own words no Eng- lishman Your Highness" this last with a withering sarcasm souring his voice. The situation was rapidly unfolding strange aspects. I looked to Burton but he remained silent. "I am the Duke," I cried. - "That, sir, remains to be established. Kingships must rest on a firmer rock than words. Not you nor England nor I, can fasten the coronation robe across your shoulders with a mere claim. Although you have renounced 144 The Stolen Throne your allegiance to England, such act does not set you upon this throne !" The curious court throng had pressed close around us. At this juncture Gurtha's voice broke in upon us. "You claim the throne of Stromburg ?" She spoke slowly and lowly but with a rasp of menace. "Your Highness," I stuttered. "Yes or no?" "Yes, Your Highness," I answered, deem- ing it best for the present to carry out the role I had assumed. "Were you aware of the pretensions of Alexis?" Again I paused before answering. But she was impatient for a reply. "I command you to answer." "Yes. Your Highness herself explained the matter to me." "That is a deliberate lie I have never be- fore spoken to you I do not know you." The Pretender 145 I gazed at her in dumb amazement. Then my glance sought Burton, but he deliberately turned his back and peered out of the window. Whitworth dropped his eyes. Here and there I could see a hand feverishly clutch upon a sword hilt. "It is a lie," she again said. "Yes, it is a lie," I replied to her and this time I stared her full and fair in the face and there was that in her own glance that told me that she, at least, took my words as I meant them to carry. She whispered to an officer and he imme- diately left the room. Again Gurtha spoke. "You have acknowl- edged that you killed Alexis?" "Yes," I said "but in fair duel and in self- - defence. The tramp of men marching sounded down the corridor and a detail of the palace guard entered the room and halted within the en- trance. 146 The Stolen Throne "Since by your own words you are a subject of Stromburg and by public confession an assassin, I command that you be placed under arrest and committed to prison." The heavens came tumbling out of God's hand and bore me down, down, down to the hell where only women are. A hell of roses and song whose fires are lit with the souls of men who believe. On, on, on I tumbled through the flames until I fell upon a mass of lace upon which I stamped and ground with my heel. Then Antsley's chafing brought me back to my senses and with his help I struggled to my feet. The officer into whose charge I had been en- trusted gave the order to advance and, sup- ported on either side, I was led from the room. But first I paused long enough to crunch my heel once more into the strip of lace that fell from my hand when I had swooned. And now, the hell that burnt me leapt from a living woman's furious eyes. / Enter the Fortress CHAPTER XIII. / Enter the Fortress" HE city prison of Stromburg is in the purlieus of the city. It is a foul, reeking hole without draught or ventilation. The few hours I spent within its walls shall always be a sear upon my memory. Shortly after nightfall an order came com- manding my transfer to an apartment in the fortress. Here I was placed in a large room, the grated windows and door of which alone indicated its real character. This much, I afterwards learned, Burton had accomplished in my behalf. I found that a number of my effects had been transferred from the Con- tinental, so that I was at least to enjoy the ma- terial comforts. Among my belongings were a number of books and so, what with pipe and reading, I did not fare at all badly. 150 The Stolen Throne The first part qf the morning passed with- out any word from my friends. About ten o'clock I heard a considerable hubbub below, which upon investigation proved to be the clatter and commotion of the Russians with- drawing to their own quarters in the Cathedral. Here and there, I saw wandering about in the confusion, occasional "jackies" on leave from the "Determination," which lay at anchor a few hundred yards down the river. There was a field glass in my bag and I whiled away the better part of an hour watch- ing life on board the gunboat. The "Determination" was at that time a new type of vessel. Since then many gunboats of her class have been added to the British serv- ice. They are mostly stationed in the far East where there is constant need of light-draught warships capable of finding their way to inter- ior towns where British lives or British inter- ests are threatened. I Enter the Fortress 151 The sight of women visitors on her deck vividly recalled to my mind the events of the preceding day, and I climbed down from my chair to sink into its seat, overwhelmed with a vortex of emotions upon which I had purposely kept from dwelling. The treachery of Gurtha cut far more cruelly than the gravity of my predicament. Never had Fate turned a crazier trick in all the million years of her topsy-turvy existence. I had pranced forth to the tourney, a valiant Sir Galahad, only to return chained to the hangman's mule. As a fair flower may trade its subtle essence for the stench of decay, just so did my deadened passion poison the last lingering fragrance of devotion to Gurtha. She had merely worn me for a glove, and when her own white fingers were imperilled by the contact, she had dis- carded me with no more compunction than she would have bestowed upon a rejected pair of mousquetaires. 152 The Stolen Throne "I'll tell the whole damned truth," I burst forth. "You'll do nothing of the sort. You'll keep a stiff upper lip and stay in the game. You've only been an ass up to now but you shan't be- come a cur." It was Antsley. "I can't come in," he said, "they've sent a guard along to see that I don't smuggle you out in my tobacco pouch. You're supposed to be incommunicado, but Whit- worth managed this much for me and you will have to be content with what the 'guards grant us.' Oh, but you've messed yourself up. I don't know where to start ! So I'll begin with God-blessing you for being the noblest gentle- man I ever knew and then damn you as the biggest chump! You saved the day for her when nothing short of a miracle could have availed. It was the boldest and biggest and quickest thing I ever saw. There's the 'bless you' end." I Enter the Fortress 153 "I was an ass a fool." "I but partly agree with you. You are an ass you are a fool, and that's where the damning corner starts. You dare to blame Gurtha" "Blame her," I cried. "Blame her I curse her I hate her ! Oh, these are not heroics She has made my life precious to myself by her own valuation of its cheapness. I was ready to die for her. God knows, I would have gone to everlasting sleep with thanks to my Maker that he had let me live to know her, if I could have had but one smile to light my way, one kind word to lantern the valleys of the eternal." "You're a fool !" sneered Antsley. His words stung me like a whip. Before I could control myself, I struck through the bars and pounded him full in the mouth. He checked the blood with his handkerchief. He was ycry white. 154 The Stolen Throne "I forgive that," he said, "because your hand and not your heart dealt the blow. "You lost your nerve yesterday and you've evidently not found it since. I saw that you did not realize what you had done the moment you began to rave at your arrest. The blessing is that you raved in English. Had one of a hun- dred men there understood you, you would never have reached this room. When you crunched your heel into her strip of lace (and at that under her very eyes) I could hardly refrain from doing as much with your head." "If I could have that hour over again I would do far more," I cried. "Now you're getting long-eared again. You can see less with two eyes and think less with one brain than a year-old baby. Listen to me and maybe I can wedge an idea into your head. When Blitzow accused Gurtha of Alexis' death she knew that this was a lie, and she knew that without proof, Russia would not be I Enter the Fortress 155 allowed to move a hand against her. At least she felt in no great peril. Then you came bungling along. I am not going to take away anything from the glory of that hour. It made me proud to be an Englishman. But that was because I knew and understood what you were about, you big, old blundering bear ! But try and imagine how she viewed it all. In you she saw another pretender arise from the ashes of Alexis. She thought you a spy a sneak. Her memory went back to what had transpired in the rose garden and at her rendezvous with you. She burned at the thought of your cheap treachery. From her view-point, she could see only the black lining of your silver impulse. She perceived in Alexis' death merely a con- venience for yourself. She owed you no con- sideration she owed herself the opportunity to rid the throne of a dangerous claimant and to grant Russia the justice she demanded. Seeing as she did, she could only act as she did. 156 The Stolen Throne It was your cue to drop tragedy and play out the farce. In the end, the truth is bound to come out and then, unless I'm all out of gear on my knowledge of women, you'll get those medicinal tears for which you were just ach- ing. Meanwhile, calmly resting between the acts, with pipe and book and a superb view of nature before you, con over your repertoire, Sir Troubadour, and wait for the curtain to rise again. I must go now 'the standing army* here is getting footsore." The Shadow on the Shade CHAPTER XIV. "The Shadow on the Shade." HE slash in my side had thus far given me but little trouble. Alexis had cut where there were no great veins, so that my own crude "first aid" bandag- ing had sufficed. However, I must have lost much more blood than I thought and it was because of weakness as well as ex- citement that I had swooned at the palace. When I struck Antsley I probably gave my side a tremendous wrench, for after he had gone, I felt a hot trickling within my shirt, fol- lowed by a feeling of vertigo. I reached out to -steady myself on the post of my bed, but missed it I knew that I fell, but after that there was only nothingness. I lay on the cold stones through all that night. The sentry found me there shortly after 160 The Stolen Throne daybreak. By this time I was mumbling in the grip of a malicious fever. I can thank ex- traordinarily good surgery for my life. My wound was cleansed and properly bandaged. After that, I was removed to the military hospital, where I tossed in delirium for days without a single lapse to consciousness. During this entire time I was under constant espionage, though I was accorded every pos- sible consideration. These facts I learned from Antsley, the sec- ond day after the breaking of the fever. The privilege of the hospital was another special dispensation secured through the kindly offices of the embassy. Criminals were usually re- moved to the sick ward of the city prison a horrible, depressing place from which, I am sure, I should never have emerged. Bit by bit and more and more as my strength returned, Antsley reviewed for me The Shadow on the Shade 161 the events which had transpired during my confinement. For a few days after Alexis' death there had been no indication of action on the part of Blitzow, and his recall to St. Petersburg had been immediately followed by the retirement of the Russian troops, after which the "Determi- nation" weighed anchor and steamed away to join the fleet cruising in the North Sea. The day for my trial on the charge of murder had not yet been determined, for obvious rea- sons. My disavowal of allegiance to England made it impossible for Burton to intercede for me, except in an unofficial capacity, but even his efforts to secure my release, under the guar- anty of my immediately leaving Stromburg, .were of no avail. Gurtha, as well as her min- isters, turned a deaf ear to every intermedia- tion and refused to interfere in any way with the progress of justice. After I was able to sit up Burton himself came and we spent an 1 62 The Stolen Throne earnest hour together. I could see that he was moved, despite the calmness of his tones. We chatted together for a few moments I eagerly questioning, he glibly answering me, concern- ing the great world-events which had trans- pired during my illness. Then with character- istic abruptness he came to the point. "Parker," he said, "I have just come from the chancellor, and between the two of Us, we are going to get you out of this trouble. This is our plan. As a citizen of Stromburg, you are subject to the laws of the duchy, and as there is but one punishment for capital crimes ahem we need not dwell upon that point. Now, since you have relinquished your allieg- ance to Great Britain, naturally there can be no official aid from England. But why repudiate your rights as a British subject? Why con- tinue this mad masquerade ? I can predict but one outcome. Yours is a hare-brained dream, as wild as it is impossible. There are docu- The Shadow on the Shade 163 ments it is true, proofs, if you will, of the survival of the Duke Andreas. But right does not make might and in the courts of royalty, as well as in those of jurisprudence, possession is nine points of the law. So that, granting you were free and at liberty to plan and plot to your heart's desire, you would never reach your goal. On the other hand, you are in actual peril in acute danger of your life. Your public confession has already doomed you. There seems no escape. At least there seemed no escape, until an hour ago, and I am here to open the prison doors and offer you freedom, if you, by a single sentence, will yourself give me the key." Burton paused "You must renounce your -pretensions to the duchy and appeal to me as an English citizen. I shall then be able to act in your behalf, not as Burton the friend, but as Burton the official. There will be no hitch. I have the assurance of those in authority that 164 The Stolen Throne in the event of your accepting these conditions, an order for your release will be made out at once, with the understanding that you are to cross the frontier and never return. There awaits merely your signature to this paper, which, attested by proper witnesses, spells 'open sesame' to you." I did not take the paper. "Is this the sug- gestion of the Duchess?" I asked. Burton lifted his finger warningly and shook his head "No." "Then," I said with a determination that rang through every fibre of me, "I will not sign it." Burton stared at me in amazement. "Do I really understand you ?" he asked. "If you mean that I reject your offer you do not understand." And then my tones soft- ened as I leaned over and clasped his hand. "Don't think me ungrateful. Some day I shall show you that I am not. You do not know The Shadow on the Shade 165 you cannot. I am not sure that I do myself. But there is something at stake bigger than all the kingships since Pharaoh's honor! I thank you deeply for what you have done, and I thank you more for what you wish to do. You cannot help me. I must do that for my- self. Good-bye." Then when he was gone I sat in the russet light and built a ladder of fancy to a castle of dreams. But I meant that the ladder should be strong enough to bear me up, and that the castle should undream itself into one of grey stone, with the ensign of Stromburg a'top. Slowly and surely as a man picks his way up a jutting mountain side, so did I climb out of the tangle into which I had so unwittingly thrown myself, until I could see before me the goal of attainment. Gurtha had chosen her course I now determined mine. Chance had placed strange cards in my hands, and I meant to play them. 1 66 The Stolen Throne Antsley did not come until the afternoon fol- lowing Burton's visit. "That fever of yours must still be raging or the last spell left you without a mind," he said. "Burton thinks that you have gone insane. He has given you up in disgust, and I don't blame him. What is your game?" "Wait you'll see," I said. "Look here, Parker, in all seriousness, are you going to stick to this melodramatic role of yours ?" I nodded assent. "Do you realize into what danger you are running?" I smiled. "I suppose you imagine yourself a heroic figure but no one else thinks so half of ( Stromburg takes you for a knave, and the other half thinks you are an ass. I have come here to-day with the intention of carrying word back to Burton that you have dropped The Shadow on the Shade 167 your tomfoolery. If reason can't move you, I shall take the matter into my own hands and disclose the whole affair. I have the papers securely locked away in my trunk with the chest of jewels and if you don't " Just then a shadow moved across the win- dow. Leaping to my feet I plunged my hand under the drawn shade and struck a man's hat. We could hear it fall, but by the time we raised the shade the eavesdropper had disappeared. Lying beneath the window, however, was the cap of an officer of cavalry. "Antsley, run outside," I said, "and get that. I'll watch from the window." But I had counted without my host in this instance a host in uniform." A hand was laid upon my shoulder and the guard, despite my expostulation, drew me away from the window, but not before I had noted a very peculiar thing. / See a Signet Ring CHAPTER XV. "/ See a Signet Ring!" NTSLEY did not return that day, nor the following. I ad- dressed a note to Burton, re- questing him to come and see me, but after waiting the greater part of a week, without sign of either him or Ted, I knew that I had been cut off from all communication with my friends. At first I was puzzled at this sudden with- drawal of the privileges which had been hitherto allowed me, but after some thought I was forced to the conclusion that the man at the window lay at the bottom of the trouble. How much had he heard? What did he know? Who was he? What had become of Antsley ? 172 The Stolen Throne For the first time since my imprisonment, I really hungered for liberty. The mystery of the affair was setting me a-quiver with anxiety. In the beginning I had not thought of escape. But as day after day passed and no word came to me from the outside world, I began to plan for my liberty. At first thought, the project seemed impos- sible. I was sequestrated in a small wing of the main floor. The view from my window only showed a stretch of shrubbery, beyond which I could see nothing. And day and night there was my guardian always at hand never condescend- ing to fellowship rigid in the observance of his every order. In the beginning I essayed bribery. They had removed all my valuables at the prison, evi- dently anticipating some such procedure. Therefore I could only promise. But my first approaches met with such a contemptuous re- ception that I was discouraged immediately. I See a Signet Ring 173 Then I tried to gain the man's confidence, but beyond a little more humanity in his bear- ing toward me, I failed to inspire any attitude which could possibly be regarded as justifiable foundation for so wilful a dereliction as that which I had hoped to accomplish. One morn- ing I awoke to find the cot next to mine occu- pied by a soldier suffering from a badly crushed arm. He had been thrown from his horse and not being able to loosen his foot from the stirrup, the frightened beast had trampled him cruelly. A screen had been set between our cots. It was a twofold affair, with the panels filled in with silk, strung along rods. Close beside this, a table was placed, to gain space for which the screen had been shoved against my bed. I could not see the face of the patient as the surgeon bent over him to maKe his examina- tion. A moment afterwards he straightened uj? md lifting a case from the floor, drew from 174 The Stolen Throne it bandages, some plaster of paris, and lastly a sponge and a bottle which emitted the unmis- takable odor of chloroform. Then he placed the satchel back on the floor. Solzer, my guard, was assisting him. First emptying the chloroform onto a sponge he handed the bottle to Solzer with instructions to cork it immediately. The soldier placed the bottle back on the table and bent forward, watching the patient succumb to the anaesthetic. At that moment I chanced to glance down- ward and observed that the satchel had been shoved half way under the screen. It lay open and among other things I saw several empty bottles lying inside. Keeping my eyes fixed on the slit between the folds of the screen, I reached down and man- aged to secure one of the empty phials. Draw- ing the cork with my teeth, I held the flask in one hand and reached for the bottle of chloro- form. It was a trying moment, but I sue- I See a Signet Ring 175 ceeded. Then while the air was still full of the fumes from the sponge, I partly filled my bottle and returned the other to the table, without having distracted their attention. Soon afterwards, the anaesthetic having taken effect, the fracture was reduced and the injured arm placed in a plaster cast. The man lay unconscious until dusk. When he emerged from his stupor he began to groan for water. Solzer had in the meanwhile re- moved the screen and had placed his chair where he could keep an eye on both of us I, for purposes of my own, having complained of a severe attack of neuralgia, which was suf- ficient excuse for my remaining in bed. At my request the doctor had bandaged my face with -a cloth saturated with a chloroform-liniment, the odor of which nearly nauseated me. When the patient called for water, the guard picked up a pitcher and filled it from a spigot at the end of the room. 176 The Stolen Throne The stranger's back was turned to me. One of his heavy cavalry boots lay under his cot, one stood at the head of his bed. While Solzer was filling the pitcher, I reached out and grasping the boot nearest me, hid it under my coverlid. The sick man slept fitfully until about eleven o'clock, and then fell into a deep slumber, at- tested by very vigorous snores. I had been feigning sleep for more than an hour. When midnight struck, I opened one lid for a peep and saw that my guardian was nodding. I lay still for some while, to make sure, then I lifted the coverlid, held the heavy boot by the strap and, giving it a good swing, crashed the man fair upon his temple with the iron-shod heel. So well-aimed was the blow, that he did not even utter a moan but only slipped a few inches in the chair and lay per- fectly motionless. However, I had awakened the patient, but before he could cry out I leaped from the bed and stupefied him with a I See a Signet Ring 177 handkerchief saturated with chloroform, meanwhile holding him by the throat until I felt him grow perfectly quiet. After which, removing the bandage from my face, I gagged Solzer with the rag, lifted him into my cot and turning his face downward tied his feet and hands. This accomplished, I drew the bedclothes over his head and slipped into the injured man's uniform which lay neatly folded on a chair. I examined his pockets and was gratified to find a number of gold pieces. But imagine my surprise, when my eye fell upon nothing less than one of the carved signet rings which I had found in Sir Seton's chest. Turning the sleeper over, I studied his face. It was my friend, was the little whipper-snapper, Lieutenant Jansen. How in the world had he come into posses- sion of the signet? What did it mean? One thing at least, was certain the Stromburg jewels had been stolen ! My Friend the Captain CHAPTER XVI. 'My Friend the Captain" |T did not suit my purpose to enter the town at once, so I struck out in a northern direc- tion, and after a few moments I came to a wagon road which carried me into a forest. This I recognized as part of the palace grounds. After a while I found a wall and quickly scal- ing this, I walked on in a wide circle, so that I managed to enter the town in an opposite direc- tion from the hospital. It was almost daybreak before I reached the legation. I slipped through the court to the rear of the house, and picking up a pebble threw it against Whit- - worth's window. I had to repeat the perform- ance several times before I could awaken him. Then, when he looked out for the cause of the disturbance, I called to him in a loud whisper to come down and let me in. 1 82 The Stolen Throne "Who is it?" he asked. "Parker," I replied. "But don't stop to talk get this door open before anybody sees me here." He descended without further ado and slid the bolt of the tradesmen's entrance. We reached his chambers without disturbing the household. "Stand here," he said, "until I make a light." "Close that window first and draw the shut- ters," I cautioned. Then in as few words as possible I told him of my escape and the dis- covery I had made at the last moment. "And now for the love of man, tell me when you last saw Antsley ?" "I must ask you the same question," was his stunning reply. "He left Stromburg almost a fortnight ago and not a word have I had from him since he went, not to mention the fact that he neglected even to bid me good-bye." My Friend the Captain 183 "But hasn't he written to me in care of the legation ?" "Not a word has been received from him. Didn't you know that he had gone away?" "Know," I murmured, "I know nothing. I haven't heard from him or the world since the afternoon he dashed out of the hospital to inter- cept that chap at the window." I detailed the incident to Whitworth. "Good God/' he cried, "there's more in this than either of us sees. You say the eavesdrop- per was an officer. How do you know ?" "He left his cap behind him when he went away. Now what was it that seemed familiar to me in that cap ? There was something that I can't remember at this moment oh, let me think no, it's no use. My head's all a-whirl "with the excitement of to-night's events." "Don't try to remember. It'll come to you a little later. Let's return to the theft of the jewels. Are you certain that they have been stolen?" 1 84 The Stolen Throne "I am sure of it. Antsley had them in his trunk he told me so that afternoon and, by George, I'm sure that Antsley's disappearance is mixed up in that matter." "How so?" "Well, if he had come back to the hotel and found his trunk rifled, he'd never have left here until he recovered everything or found the thief. They must have made away with him first." Then came another surprise. "Antsley was not made away with of that at least, I am certain. He left the Continental with all his baggage and bought a ticket for London." "Then how did Jansen get this ring?" "That's too much of a question for me to answer." "And why hasn't Ted written to me ? Surely he is concerned about my plight." "Perhaps he has and the letters were never delivered to you." My Friend the Captain 185 "But he would have addressed them in your care. He'd not be so foolish as to send them to the hospital, where he knows they would surely be intercepted. They would not dare tamper with the Legation's correspondence, unless " "Unless what?" "Unless the Duchess is behind the whole affair." "In what manner ?" "Perhaps she forced Antsley to cross the bor- der," I ventured. "He is my friend and they may not want him in Stromburg, knowing cer- tain matters as he does." "But if that were the case, he would surely have appealed to us. He is an Englishman and can demand our protection. No, I am sure Gurtha was not concerned in his departure." "Did he leave no word at the hotel ? Could you learn nothing there ?" "Well, to tell you the truth, until this morn- 1 86 The Stolen Throne ing, I had no idea that there was anything mys- terious in the matter. I was surprised to hear V that he had left Stromburg, and when I learned that he did not leave even so much as an 'auf- weidersehen' for either Burton or myself, I must confess that the only emotion I experi- enced, was one of anger." "Then you learned nothing from the hotel people ?" "Nothing except that he seemed to have made up his mind very quickly and that our old acquaintance, Captain Helzer, accompanied him to the railway station." "That's it I remember now. Helzer's the man," I cried. "Remember what?" "Whitworth," I said, "Antsley is somewhere in Stromburg unless he is dead. Do you re- member the quarrel at the cafe the night we came here? Well, the next day, when we ex- pected a challenge from little Jansen, he sent Captain Helzer with a message of apology !" My Friend the Captain 187 "What has that to do with the present dis- cussion ?" "It has this to do. The captain became very drunk and garrulous. He boasted of his sweet- hearts showed us letters photographs and among other trophies of the love-chase a hat- band bearing his initials embroidered in silk. Whitworth, there s something significant in Helzer's leaving the hotel with Ted, because the cap that lay under the window had that em- broidered band inside!" "Then we'll find Helzer and get the truth from him." "How?" For answer he left the room and returned with Burton. To him we hurriedly narrated the whole story. When we had finished he sat without speech for some while. "Ring for Nicholas," he said. Then he wrote a few words which he sealed in an envelope and addressed it. The Stolen Throne As it was undesirable to allow the man to enter the room on account of my presence, Burton halted him in the hall. "Go with this at once to the Chancellor and return with an answer." When the man had gone he came back to his seat and resumed his musing pose. "If we can find Helzer we'll find every- thing," he said, at last. "And we'll find Helzer if every soldier and policeman in Stromburg has to be called into the search. But there is another problem before us what are we going to do with you?" "I'll stay here for the present," was my au- dacious reply. "And if you'll dig into your old clothes chest and get me out a suit of tweeds, I'll begin to realize that I have managed to escape." Burton regarded me in silence. "It's com- promising," he said soberly. "Compromises are the bulwark of diplom- acy," I replied, with a nervous laugh. My Friend the Captain 189 "All right, then. Keep under cover and for the present we'll fix up accommodations for you. But I can promise you no prolonged shelter." I remained in Whitworth's room next morn- ing, while he and Burton left the Legation to keep the appointment which he had made by note. They returned at noon, chagrined and disap- pointed. Noting my concern they detailed the inter- view for me. The Chancellor after hearing their story had sent for the Minister of War. He at once instituted inquiries for Captain Helzer but dis- covered that he had left Stromburg. The Chancellor, however, had assured them the matter would be referred to the secret police and no stone be left unturned in the endeavor to find Antsley. In the afternoon Whitworth came to me with 190 The Stolen Throne a telegram. It was a reply to a wire sent to Scotland Yard. "Nothing known of party's whereabouts. Family last heard of him from Stromburg." "What do you thing of that?" he said. "I think that you'd better look up our friend Jansen." WTiat Whitworth Found CHAPTER XVII. "What Whitworth Found." T was after dark when Whit- worth returned from the hos- pital. "Did you see Jansen?" I asked. He nodded assent. "Did he tell anything?" "All!" "Which means?" "That Antsley may be here to-morrow. General Strum issued an order which gained me instant admittance to the injured man. I found him in a pretty bad way but gritty as a Gourka for all his suffering. He hasn't much of a show and if he does squirm through this accident, there's little likelihood of his having much use of his arm, as the ligaments are torn 194 The Stolen Throne horribly and it is one chance in a hundred that they will ever knit properly.'' "He is still a bit shaken up from the jolt which you gave his injury. You slammed the poor devil's arm against the headboard when you leaped upon him and they had to re-set the frac- ture this morning. I tried to find what steps are being taken for your recapture and was surprised at the easy attitude of the authori- ties. Of course, I could make only casual in- quiries, as too great an interest in the matter might divert unwelcome attention toward Bur- ton and myself. What I have found, leaves me in a quandary. They are either cloaking their plans with the utmost secrecy or (for some rea- son beyond my understanding) allowing your escape to pass neglected. I do not think, how- ever, that you have been traced here so, for the present, I see no appreciable danger of your reprisal. "Jansen i s still in the wing where you were What Whit worth Found 195 quartered and for the present, occupies it alone. This gave me a full opportunity to talk with him freely. "I at once accused him of participation in the theft of the jewels and Antsley's disappear- ance. At first he laughed at me. 'Is this the reason of your visit?' he asked. 'Call one of the physicians and let him hear you/ he said. 'I fear that you need treament as badly as I/ "Come, come, Jansen," I said, "it's all very well to carry out the matter in a high-handed way but we have positive proof that you are mixed up in this scrape." " 'Produce your proof,' he sneered. "I started to tell him about the signet you found in his pocket, but upon second thought Hid not do so, as it might have shown him the source of my information and give him a weapon for counter. So I took a long shot. "Captain Helzer has confessed," I said. " That's a lie,' he said, 'he ' 196 The Stolen Throne "He what?" I asked eagerly. "But he instantly became close-mouthed and did not answer. "Jansen," I said, "I am not here on guess / know! I came, hoping that you would see how much more wise it would be to give me your aid. Now I have nothing to do but call upon the authorities. I wanted to save you from the consequences of your act but I must save my friend at the price of your own heavy punishment. I am very sorry for your sake that I must visit additional ill upon you. Good-bye. "I arose to go and began to button my glove." " 'Why should I do as you ask ?' he muttered sullenly." " 'Why should you not ? I replied.' " 'Why not/ he snarled 'why not ? Be- cause he is the friend of the hound who stripped me of my honor (meaning that affair What Whitworth Found 197 with you at the inn), because I can gain noth- ing and lose much/ " 'But I promise you that you shall not lose anything. If you will do what I ask of you, I pledge myself not to disclose the source of my information, whereas, if you are unreasonable, the facts will be forced out of you.' " 'My friends are strong in influence !' he blustered. " 'But England is stronger, and the Duchess herself could not save you from her anger. But you have chosen, so I also, am forced to choose." "I made as if to leave, but he called me back to him. " 'Don't go yet I must think awhile.' "He lay with his eyes fastened upon space and did not speak for some time. "Then lifting himself painfully, he cast cau- tious eyes around the room and beckoned me nearer to his bed. 198 The Stolen Throne "First, he demanded that I repeat my prom- ise of protection. "I assented. " 'You're an Englishman/ he said, 'and I shall take your word. Your friend is safe and will be in no danger so long as his presence does not threaten the liberty of certain persons. There were three of us originally but I am out of it now. One of the two is always guarding him. I mention no names that was not a part of my compact/ " 'But where is he ?' I asked impatiently. " 'At the old mill near Biel, about ninety miles from here. There are two approaches to the mill. One is by the road and the other through the bed of the stream which is very shallow and easily waded/ "I was carefully making note of his instruc- tions when the surgeon entered to dress his wound and insisted that I leave, as I had al- ready remained with the patient entirely too What Whitworth Found 199 long so there you have the whole affair shell and nut/ " "What are you going to do ?" I queried. "I shall take the two o'clock local for Biel." "That is, we shall leave at once." Whitworth started in to protest. "You must not run the risk of recapture. There is only one of them there and I'll be able to handle him." "But two will handle him twice as easily," was my response, as I took down Jensen's uni- form and b^gan to change my clothes. The Man at the Mill CHAPTER XVIII. 'The Man at the Mill" E set out for Biel at daybreak. There were but two carriages to the train, one with first-class compartment, in which we re- mained undisturbed. The jog- ging motion of the cars and the droning and drumming of the wheels wove themselves into a steady, pulsing measure, to the spell of which I soon succumbed and slept. I am sorry that I missed the sun-rise. It must have been glorious, but the sight that did greet me when the warmth of the day softened -my veins and soothed me into wakefulness, was a rarely wonderful one. Our track wound its way through the moun- tains. The engine was by no means a high- power one, and we ambled along rather leis- 204 The Stolen Throne urely, at very much the same pace that one would get from a brisk canter. There are granite quarries along the way which have been worked for ages. Looking up one could see the rifts of creamy white gleam- ing in the dusky sides of the hills, for all the world like scoopsful of cheese dug out by the hand of some hungry Titan. Besides us ran the road white and dustless, stretching in meander and glaring brightly, catching the vio- let tint out of the prismatic light, until far off it lost itself in a hazy purple. This is the country of the famed Goldsteiner, wine of Kings, rare as the Tokay of Hungary, and like it, now al- most a myth. Early as it was, the peasants were at work. One saw occasionally kine, but of horses and oxen practically none. For why should good stock be wasted on the farm tasks, when one has a strong wife and stalwart daughters to The Man at the Mill 205 bend to the yoke and break their backs with the grubbing hoe ? There are castles here, too. Most of them are shambling ruins, often just the corner of a wall jutting out against the blue heavens, stick- ing up from the hillside like a single fang left in a wolf's skull. Lairs of the wolf they were in times long gone. They were sullen scoundrels, these one-time Lords of Strom- burg, with the arrogance and brutality of the Teuton sharpened by the wilder strain of Attila's vandalous Huns. The robber barons of the Rhine were a dif- ferent breed of men. They prayed as hard as they preyed. Forays they made against their neighbors and bloody reprisal they took upon their enemies, and tribute they exacted by force from traveller and merchant. But then, too, they wielded their sword for the Christ and valiantly they rode against the Saracen and their voices sang the lordly songs of the 206 The Stolen Throne Crusaders. But not so, did the Lords of the Sarga. They waged only their internecine wars father and son. Pitiless and terrible are the legends told in the peasants' huts even to-day, for tradition lives in the mouths of the people, and the songs crooned over the farm- house cradle are the folk-lore of a race. They held their mountains well, and fearless and greedy indeed, was the bagman whose love of gold led him into the mountains of the Sarga. They who did escape, carried such tales back to the low countries and to Genoa and the Span- ish lands, that their fellows were well content to leave Stromburg undisturbed in its solitary brutality. They were big men, strong, wonderful men, these old land-corsairs, mighty, thick of chest, set well upon their feet, with bulging calves and knotty biceps. They lived in the open and fared well on the flesh of the wild boar and the fallow deer. Under Kaz, the Smith, they be- The Man at the Mill 207 came a terrible menace to the mountain king- doms. Wonderful was Kaz, exulting in the pride of his Hun blood. The witches told him that the soul of Attila was reborn in him, and as he pounded daily at his mellow-throated anvil, shaping yactagan and pike, he sang the songs of the dead ages, and the red blood mounted to his eyes. One day he slit the leather of his bellows, cast aside his apron and marched forth at the head of his followers. From town to town they fought their way to the capitol itself. And the capitol fell. So Kaz, the Smith, was Kaz the King. He might have been Napoleon, had he guessed what worlds lay beyond the moun- tains. He might have been Tamerlane had he -not looked into the eyes of a gypsy girl (the world is sometimes as small as a woman's eyes). And so the conqueror became con- quered the welder of chains wore them, and the army which he had raised, waited for. his 208 The Stolen Throne battle-cry until their daggers clogged in the sheaths from the rust on their blades. For two years they waited, and then the king sold them to the Archbishop of Treves. They became his mercenaries and never again returned to Stromburg. They were the flower of its man- hood the virile men, acorns of oaks. In their civil wars they had slain the other able- bodied men, and they whom they left in Strom- burg, were the sons of the weak, the unfit the old men and the cowards. And so the Stromburg men who came after them were weaklings, but the women were glorious. The mountains are now quarries and vine- yards, and they who live in the valleys come and cut rocks and train vines. As the sun climbed up the heavens, we climbed down the mountains. We were now in the beautiful valleys of the Sarga flat seas of color, patched with red, green, brown and yel- The Man at the Mill 209 low, a veritable quilt of flowers and garden truck. Both of us were sharp for coffee when we reached Biel. There is an inn near the train- shed, and we lost no time in breakfasting. Whitworth thought it would be best for us to eat in our room, and so we had eggs and coffee in a low-browed chamber under the eaves. We could command the outlying country from where we sat. A small stream ran back of the house and down a gully, from which emerged the motionless sails of a windmill. "That's where it is," said Whitworth. "Let's go over and have a look." "Don't you think we had better wait until we have rested a bit," suggested I. "Neither of .jus has slept very much, and it would be just as well if we go at this thing with all our energies. There is no telling what we may be put to be- fore the day is over." "There is something in that," he assented. 210 The Stolen Throne But I could not rest. I sat with my eyes closed and a thousand surging thoughts pell- melling one another, until I could stand the in- action no longer. Leaving Whitworth, I slipped down stairs and made across the fields. A brisk ten minutes' walk brought me to the mill. There were no signs of life about the place, nor were there any other buildings near by. I sauntered past and circled around the building, trusting to see or hear some signal from Antsley, but no sound or sight rewarded my effort. And so I returned to the inn and rejoined Aubrey. We lunched and were served by the son of the landlord. "Question him," I suggested to Aubrey, speaking in English. "Is that a mill over there," he queried. "Oh, yes," he replied, "but I wouldn't enter it for all the money in the world." "Why not," I asked. "Oh, it's full of rats and ghosts," he replied. The Man at the Mill 2I1 "Ghosts?" I questioned. "Certainly," he said, "I have seen them. I sleep right above this room and at night when it is very late a light burns in the windows. Father wouldn't believe me when I first told him, but now everyone knows it." "That's the place," I whispered to Whit- worth. "Wait until night-fall and we'll try our luck again. You will remain here. I may find it much easier to enter than to leave, and if you are not free to act it might go hard with me." Whitworth saw the wisdom of my reasoning and so as soon as it was dark, I returned alone, and wading through the bed of the stream, as Jansen had directed, tried to open the door. It . was not secured but merely hard in its frame, so I put my shoulder against it and pressed. It swung inward with a creak. Just then a candle flickered above, and by its dim light I made out the legs and lower person of a man standing 212 The Stolen Throne over a trap door. "Wait, I will let down the ladder," he said. His voice was familiar. When the steps were lowered, the man bent over to steady the top. Then I saw it was Helzer, and his face was that of a man visited with anger and anxiety. The Mill Grinds, Strange Grist CHAPTER XIX. 'The Mill Grinds Strange Grist" TRIED to close the door ; but it hung on tight hinges and squeaked. "Lift it up a bit," directed Helzer, speaking thickly. Then he cried out impatiently: "You dunderhead! Don't you remember? I think you are drunk. What do you mean anyhow, by staying away and leaving me alone here all this time? I've a mind to come down and take it out of your skin." The idea seemed to grow with him. He broke forth into a volley of filthy oaths and having set the candle on the floor, started to throw his leg over the ladder. It may be that it was not resting squarely on the floor or, per- haps, the man was careless. Be that as it may, he missed his footing and in an instant he and 2i 6 The Stolen Throne the ladder crashed down upon the flags. He fell upon the side of his head and I heard the snapping of the bone as his neck broke. I paused just long enough to see that he was beyond all aid, then re-set the ladder and mounted it. The room into which I stepped was bare and empty; but a door showed an- other chamber. I picked up the candle and softly turned the knob. The moonlight strug- gled in through a single window, high up on the rough stone wall. In the corner a man was sleeping, his body curled on a rough pallet of straw, over which a blanket was thrown. It was Antsley. "Ted," I called softly. He did not stir. I gave him a shake and he opened his eyes with a look that puzzled me for a moment. Then ]my mind flashed back to a night in White- chapel, when I had gone to find a poor wretch of a friend, who had been missing from his chambers for days. We traced him to a reek- The Mill Grinds Strange Grist 217 ing hole where drug-thralled wretches of the slums gathered for the consolation of the opium pipe. It was the first time I had ever seen a man held in the sleep of the damnable poison. His eyes were just like Ted's now. I tried to remember how we had aroused him. Then it came to me that we had dosed him with black coffee. I fumbled around the room and in a corner happened upon a spirit lamp and a pot. There was a cup of mocha with which I brewed a thick black mess of coffee and, prop- ping up his head, tried to force the blistering drink down his throat. The burn of the steam- ing stuff stung the numbed lips and he opened them with an instinctive protest of pain. I managed to get a few drops through his clenched teeth. He choked and coughed, and after a bit, allowed me to pour the cup-f ul down his throat, moaning all the while. The strong decoction, before long, worked its way into his veins and stimulated his heart to activity. He 2i8 The Stolen Throne stirred feebly and sat up, rubbing his eyes and gazed around with the groping look of a man just returning to consciousness. His glance rested on me. He was evidently puzzled. The uniform, perhaps, threw him off his track a bit, for he stared at me blankly, trying to compre- hend that it was I, and yet, seemingly, unable to realize the fact. "It's all right, old man," I assured him, "Come on, brace up and we'll get out in the open air. It will do you good." "Wait a minute," he said, "I can't quite take it all in. What are you doing here and where isHelzer?" "I'll tell you all about that, later," I replied. "The important thing is to get away from here. Do you feel fit now ?" He drew his hand over his brow with a weak gesture and sank back again on the straw. "I'm a bit dizzy," he said weakly. "That damned morphine is still in my system. I'm The Mill Grinds Strange Grist 219 nauseated. Get me a drink of water, will you please?" I brought it to him and he drained the glass at one gulp and motioned for more. I let him lie still after that ; but when I saw him close his eyes again, I thought it best to give him another dose of the coffee. The second cup had the de- sired effect and seemed to clear away the cob- webs from his brain. "How did you get here?" he queried. "My God! but it has seemed a year since they got hold of me. You'd better look out for Helzer." "Ted," I said, "Providence has done that for us. Helzer is lying down stairs with a broken neck. Oh, no," I hastened to assure him, as he cast a significant look at me, "it was an acci- ; dent. He fell through the trap and lit on his head. But how in the world did you come to get into this state ?" "Helzer did it last night," he said. "He punched a hypo into me for fear that he'd fall 220 The Stolen Throne asleep and I'd get away. He was afraid to trust to tying me up." "Do you feel strong enough to leave?" I asked him. "I think I can manage it," he answered, "Lend me your hand." I held out my arm and he struggled to his feet. He was dizzy and rocked a bit. I started to lead him out. "Wait," he said, "I want to get the jewels." He went over to the table and threw it flat on one side. "Unscrew the leg," he said. It turned easily and in an instant I had removed it. "Got a knife ?" he asked. "There's a plug in the end pry it out." I found a very ingeniously fitted disc, which I removed with the point of my blade. The leg was hollow. The top of it was stuffed with papers, which proved to be Sir Seton's narrative. When I dug them out, a flashing stream of jewels fell out on the stones. The two of us bent down to gather them up. The Mill Grinds Strange Grist "The most of them are here, luckily!" Ted said. "We'll go now." I descended first; but I looked away from the thing lying on the floor beside me. Then I held the ladder for Antsley. He came down care- fully and when he reached the bottom, stooped over Helzer's body and holding the candle close to his face, peered earnestly at his late captor. "Parker," he said, "there's the end of one of the biggest rascals that ever breathed God's clean air. He might have been a great man. There was all that constitutes achievement in his make-up; but he wasn't straight and the crook in his nature brought him to this. Yes, Helzer," he reflected, "you could have played 'the big game' and you understood the rules - well enough not to need marked backs on your cards. There was a lot to you a lot." Then he turned around to me. "By George!" he said, "What is the matter with me? Here we stand wasting precious 222 The Stolen Throne moments !" While he spoke he was unbutton- ing Helzer's tunic. He groped inside until he found the pocket for which he was looking. "They're here, old man!" he said, "Wait, though, we'd better be sure." He drew forth a package of papers and glanced through them quickly by the candle light. "Now," he said, with a satisfied tone, "we'll get out, but first tell me, what day is it ?" "Wednesday," I answered. "Then there's time," he replied. "Time for what?" I asked. "Time for us to reach the Palace, time for us to save Gurtha." Here was indeed a startling speech. But when I pressed Ted for particulars, he put me off with an impatient gesture. "I'll explain all later on," he said, "The im- portant thing at present is to clear out of this place before anybody delays us. I'll tell you everything on the train." The Mill Grinds Strange Grist 223 "But we've got to go to the inn first," I said, "Whitworth is there with me and we must pick him up." We ran across the fields at a sharp pace and soon reached the house. I deemed it best, however, that we should not be seen, and therefore, took a long detour which brought us to the back garden, over the wall of which we leaped. We could see Whitworth in the room, silhouetted against the lamp glow. I whistled softly. He leaned out of the window. "Aubrey," I called, "I've got Antsley. Find out what time the next train leaves for Strom- burg, settle our bill and join us outside." Whit- worth soon appeared. "If the schedule doesn't get hung up, we'll be able to leave within half an hour." The three of us walked to the station and after a little while the wheezing engine puffed into sight. "There's an empty carriage," said Antsley, "make a dive for it." 224 The Stolen Throne I heaved a sigh of relief as we closed the door. Whitworth turned around to me, "Now," he said, "will you please tell me all about it !" "My story can wait," I answered him, "There's a far more important tale to be heard first. Come on, Ted," I cried, "It's about time that we knew about you, and since we've a long ride ahead of us, you may as well begin at the outset and give us all the details." What Happened to Antsley CHAPTER XX. What Happened to Antsley." (HEN I ran out of the hospital that afternoon, my haste aroused the suspicion of the at- tendants, and I was summarily checked and plied with ques- tions. My explanations were met wittTshrugs of disbelief, but I was finally able to secure my release. By that time, natur- ally, all trace of our eavesdropper was lost. My first impulse was to return to you, but I re- membered that my unwary speech had dis- closed the resting place of the Stromburg jewels, and the realization of this unpleasant truth winged my steps. I jumped into a car- riage and tore to the Continental, with all the energy that whip and double fare could get out of the horses. I did not stop to make inquiry at the office, but leaped up the stairs, three 228 The Stolen Throne steps at a stride, dimly conscious that Christof was calling to me from below, and hurling open my door, ran plump into the range of a damned obtrusive revolver, and incidentally, Captain Helzer. "Tlease shut the door/ he said, 1 can't stand draughts/ ' "What did you do?" I asked Antsley. "My dear boy," he answered me, "you re- mind me of the cockney who went punting with his sweetheart down at Maidenhead. The skiff had been punctured earlier in the day, and the hole had been patched up with a wooden plug. When he returned to the landing he told a mutual acquaintance that she had refused to kiss him, whereupon he threatened to remove the plug if she did not alter her mind. 'I sye," asks the other chap, "did she kiss yer ?" " Well/ replied Sammy, scratching his chin, 'yer ain't 'card of no lydies bein' drownded What Happened to Antsley 229 'round about Mydenead wye, 'ere of lyte, 'ave yer?'" "And so," I stated, "you shut it?" "Not being more than a common, ordinary, garden variety of fool, I did," Ted answered. "But to get back onto the main track: " 'Helzer,' I said, 'can't you stick that fool pistol in some other direction? I am supersti- tious about firearms. I have an idea that they go off, every now and then. Besides, it's bad form to order a man around in his own apart- ments/ "Helzer smiled. 'Ah, but you have just given them up!' "Some one rapped. 'Don't move/ he whis- pered. It is your account ; I instructed them to make it out for you. Order him to shove it un- der the door/ "'Look here, Helzer'/ I cried, after I had picked up the bill, 'I think you've taken too in- 230 The Stolen Throne fernally much interest in my affairs! What does all this monkey business mean?' " 'It means/ he purred between his puffs, 'that you are going to take a little journey with me.' He drew his watch. 'You must hurry if you want to catch the train, so start your packing, and I'll explain while you are at it. I have invited you to become my guest at a most delightful place up in the mountains. As you may spend an indefinite period with me, you will need all your belongings, so be sure to take everything away with you/ : 'What are you driving at ?' I demanded. : 'Well, to be frank, the Stromburg jewels ! Oh, yes, it was I who overheard you this after- noon, and, being a wise man, I have turned opportunity to practical account. On my way here I conceived a very neat plan. The moment I arrived, I notified the hotel people that you had been summoned home to England, and wished your account closed immediately. I What Happened to Antsley 231 stated that you had sent me ahead to straighten out the details of your departure. I did not take much risk of a muddle, as I calculated that you would dart by the office when you reached here and lose no time in getting to your precious trunk. As you perceive, my deductions were logical. You will now proceed to complete the other details for me/ " 'Answer me one question, will you, Helzer ? Why didn't you smooch the jewels while you had the chance?' " 'Had is hardly the word,' he answered. " 'I have both the opportunity and the jewels, as well as yourself. I suppose you thought to re- turn and find your rooms a mass of litter and a path of havoc, which would lead a blind man directly to me? My friend, I fear that you do not properly appreciate me! As you perceive, I have not molested your possessions in the slightest. My hand has not touched a single thing belonging to you. I leave no trace of 232 The Stolen Throne connection between myself and the jewels in your care. How can I lie under the stigma of suspicion, or for a moment fear the idea of ac- cusation, so long as you, of your own accord, take your luggage and me away with you? For the world will shortly behold us descend together, chatting amiably upon the weather, or some other equally innocuous topic. We shall enter a carriage and drive to the railway station, where you will purchase a ticket to London. Your dear friend, Captain Helzer, is merely accompanying you part of the way to break the monotony of your journey. Why should any one be alarmed or entertain the least doubt over our camaradie? And you, be- ing an unusually sane and level-headed man, will, I am sure, do nothing so foolish as to arouse such doubt.' " 'Oh, won't I ?' was my response. 'You'll find your basket of eggs pretty much of an omelet, if you are counting upon my passive ac- What Happened to Antsley 233 quiescence to your brigandage. I warn you now, that the moment you remove your weapon from range, I shall prove the biggest handful of trouble it has ever been your lot to tackle!' " ''Allow me to contradict you !' he retorted. "As soon as my effects were gathered, at Helzer's suggestion, I rang for the porter. " 'Now, let me do the talking/ he stated, 'and you keep facing me. It may perhaps inter- est you to know that I shall have you covered through my coat pocket. So I'm sure you won't be gauche enough to interrupt me, nor so impolite as to contradict anything that I shall say.' "Christof knocked at the door. 'Let him in/ said Helzer. " 'Christof/ he remarked, 'Mr. Antsley wishes you to pay his account, which he finds to be correct. Secure a receipt, then return and remove his luggage. We leave Stromburg 234 The Stolen Throne within a half hour, so lose no time. ' Christof looked up at me in inquiry. ' 'Do as Captain Helzer desires/ I stated. Christof obediently withdrew. ' 'Now/ remarked Helzer, 'listen closely to what I say. I have gone too far in this affair to retrace my steps. I need funds more than I have ever wanted money in my life. I am running a tremendous risk to obtain these jewels, and before I allow myself to be blocked by you, I shall not hesitate at the most extreme measures, so that if you still entertain any idea of resistance, why, make up your mind that I intend to shoot you at the first inclination toward escape or outcry. " 'When we descend the stairs, you will take my arm, and lean your body close to mine. I shall keep one hand constantly in my pocket, and my pistol barrel will be pressed against your side. " 'We are going to Biel, where you will hand What Happened to Antsley 235 over your keys to me. You will remain there until I can dispose of the stones, and make ar- rangements to get out of Stromburg in safety. I do not mean to harm you or cause you the least annoyance, provided that you fall in with my desires. If you balk me, I will kill you/ ' Antsley paused. "Well, he had me. I might have taken a chance, but I did not like the percentage. So we left the hotel, to all appearances on terms of the most intense intimacy, and when we reached the station Helzer took possession of the lug- gage. As soon as we arrived at Biel he brought me to the mill. Here I remained a close pris- oner. The place is the rendezvous of a pro- Russian cabal, and I was kept under constant _-8urveillance. "Helzer's first act was to rifle my trunk and remove the chest. He made a secret hiding place for the papers and jewels by boring a hole in the table leg. He could not read English 236 The Stolen Throne and so he was not able to decipher the writing. There were two other men in the plot with him, little Jansen and a Russian by the name of Bruch. They took turns guarding me. Jansen undertook to dispose of the stones, but Helzer would only entrust him with a few gems at a time. "Their treatment was at all times consider- ate, and save that I did not have a moment to myself, I had a fairly pleasant time in their company. A fourth man used to come to see them, but they never permitted me to catch sight of him. They would lock me in and con- fer with him in another room. I managed to get piecemeal snatches of their conversation by listening at the door, and learned a plot that was under way to prostitute the army for Rus- sia and make away with Gurtha. Blitzow's hand was directing the dirty business, and I gathered that on a former occasion, a similar plot had been laid, only that time the proposi- What Happened to Antsley 237 tion was to replace Gurtha with Alexis. Your coup, Parker, upset that little arrangement." "Night before last, Jansen did not come out at the usual hour, and Helzer was obliged to re- main all night guarding me. I noted that he was sorely in need of sleep. He had been drink- ing. His bleary eyes told of carousing, and he could scarcely hold himself together, and I was in hopes that drowsiness would throw him off his guard. But Helzer was a very cunning man. He did not trust to tying me up, realizing that once he succumbed to the need of rest, he would probably sink into such a deep stupor, that I might accomplish the loosening of my bonds before he awakened. He was a drug habitue, as I soon found after we had been to- gether a little while. And the devilish plan of pumping me full of morphine occurred to him. He jabbed the needle in me while I was dozing, and inasmuch as I had no opportunity of get- ting hold of anything to combat the effects of 238 The Stolen Throne the morphine, it was an easy matter for him to keep me in a state of semi-coma afterwards. Bruch and he had been Blitzow's agents in Stromburg for the past year, and from conver- sations which I had overheard I surmised that Helzer kept upon his person the papers which detailed the plot to dispose of Gurtha. You may imagine how fortunate for the duchess your coming proved to-night, for Helzer's ac- cidental death has placed in our hands not only this evidence, but the names of hundreds of men both in private life and in the army, who have made themselves parties to the treason. From what I can gather, the blow is to be struck before morning, so that, we had best not trust to any delay but give immediate warn- ing to Gurtha." Whitworth, however, thought it advisable to join Burton to our forces. "We can stop at the Legation on our way to the Palace and at What Happened to Antsley 239 the utmost, the interruption will not take more than a few moments." i I did not agree with him, however, but Ants- ley thought it perhaps best to follow out Whit- worth's suggestion. We made much better time on our journey home than we had in the morning, and it was some while before midnight when we arrived at Stromburg. The three of us burst in on Burton just as he was about to tub. He took in the situation in a flash. He thought it a good plan to send for the Chancellor and notify him of the impending disaster. "I don't agree with you," I demurred, "one of us had better go right on to the palace, and meanwhile you can sound the alarm and see that troops are sent to guard Her Grace." "On second thought, I agree with you," said Burton. "And it will be safest for you to undertake the mission," said Whitworth, turning to me, 240 The Stolen Throne "as you are least likely to arouse suspicion, since you are wearing Jansen's uniform." "And in the next place he knows a private entrance to Gurtha's apartments/' added Ants- ley. "But," cried Burton, about to start upon a new thread of speculation. Antsley cut in on him: "Don't waste time," he cried, "Act ! Act ! If they miss Helzer and grow suspicious, the chances are they will rush events ahead of schedule and turn Hell loose before we can do anything." "When I come to consider it, you had better go," I suggested to Ted. "When she sees me " I shrugged my shoulders signifi- cantly. Burton merely pointed to the mirror. "She will never know you," he said. It was true. There was little resemblance between the troubadour of the rose garden and the booted soldier who faced me from the pier What Happened to Antsley 241 glass. The one had been a stalwart figure of a man. I was now wasted from the ravages of my sickness, and but a semblance of my usual self. The "me" she last gazed upon had been clean-shaven and tanned. The face of the sol- dier was pale and heavily bearded. "I will keep these," said Burton, gathering up the papers; "something might happen to you." "I must have them," I answered. "She may not believe me. I can risk no chance." I left the legation with the same stealth that I had entered it and slunk along the streets, cautious of ear and eye. Twice I was accosted by outposts of the cabal, but the whispered password "Liberty and Russia," secured me in- stant release from further annoyance. CHAPTER XXI. "Carma." HEN I reached the south gate, I slid my revolver from my belt and ran it up my sleeve, with the muzzle resting against my finger-tip. I found the entrance unguarded, and passed in with- out observation. When I came to the passage I noted that it was in darkness and instinctively paused. Before long I realized that some one was ahead of me in the shadows, so near, that I could hear the pumping of his breath and the unsnapping of the button on his holster, as he , fumbled for his pistol. I whispered the password, at which he sighed with relief and drew nearer. "What kept you?" he complained. "I have been here almost an hour. I thought that l\ should have to do it." 246 The Stolen Throne I mumbled something adequate to the query and lapsed into silence. "Why doesn't Carma come?" he exclaimed after a bit. "It is surely the hour ! I told you that you would not get her to do it." This was becoming interesting. Evidently, Gurtha was to be betrayed by one of her own women. But who was I, and what was pre- cisely my mission ? Impatient to reach Gurtha I was just as curious to learn my identity anc, my expected share in this night's work. A sigh. Another sigh. A third sigh. Then "Remember, you must divide fairly with me half the jewels !" Silence. "I was thinking how I would do it, if you had not come. I decided not to use the knife. She is so beautiful, it would be a shame to mar her loveliness. I suppose I am a sentimental fool, but Vogel (ah, so at least I was Vogel!) "I want you to make me one promise. Re- Carma 247 member that she is a woman. The knife is all right for men, but to slide a blade across her soft throat ugh !" "Well?" I ventured. "Promise me that you will be merciful and only strangle her." In the darkness, of course, he had no inkling of his mistake. He was assured of my identity, and his most immediate concern seemed to be the booty. The cold-blooded hyena ! The kill- lust of all my cave-men ancestors rioted in my blood. He was within arm-distance of me. I emptied my lungs, and with the inhalation to lend power to my clutch, I struck for his throat with one hand, and smashed him under the ear with the other. Fate guided the blind attack. One abortive grunt was all that he uttered as he crumpled to his knees and relaxed. And then I choked. When I released my hold he was utterly still. But it was not a moment for humanity. I un- 248 The Stolen Throne buckled his sword-belt, and throwing him upon his face, strapped his elbows together. With my own belt I secured his feet, then slipped his scabbard into his mouth, and with my scarf, bound the gag fast, with cruelly drawn knots. Kicking the brute to one side, I hastened along the passage until I came to the slit of light which marked the entrance to Gurtha's apartments. I leaned against the wall and rested. Soon the door was stealthily opened and a face peered out. It was the woman of my former rendezvous, Gurtha's lady-in-wait- ing. Her finger was pressed against her lips in caution, as she beckoned to me. Averting my head, I bent close for the message. "She is about to offer her prayers. As soon as she kneels I will open the door for you. Then I shall slip out and wait for you here in the passage." My mind moved quickly. If she discovered that I was an impostor, there would be no Carma 249 knowing how quickly the fat would be in the fire. "Not here !" I cried. "Go through the other entrance. When I hear you slam the door, I will come in. Do not stop for a moment after that. You must not see what happens, and it will be perilous for you when the others come." It seemed eternity before I heard the signal ; then with cautious fingers I turned the knob and paused in the doorway. There was no light save that which fell upon her from the tapers on the shrine. She knelt with uplifted face and her hands clasped in sup- plication. Her hair, unloosened, poured in a gleaming glory to the floor, and cloaked her -figure from my eyes. In her face, there was the radiance of an angel, facing the throne of God. All the heart-hunger of my dreams awakened at the vision, and the desert within my breast blossomed. "Make me worthy, Oh Father !" she prayed. 250 The Stolen Throne "Give me strength for my task; teach me to be humble in Thy sight, and show me the way to Thy kingdom. Guide my hand to justice and my heart to mercy; temper my pride in the crucible of Thine understanding. For, Lord, I am but a woman, and weak without Thee. There are dangers which beset my way, and pit-falls before my stumbling feet. Intrigue and treachery girt me about. Do Thou open mine eyes to the Truth, and show me how I may best use my power. Make me courageous and strong of purpose, that I may bring to my people fair, prosperous and happy years. Thou hast appointed me to a high place, and I am helpless, save for the strength that comes from Thee. And, Lord, I beseech Thee, bring for- giveness to his heart. Teach him to forget the bitterness. Guard his days and save him from danger, for, Lord, I love him very dearly !" When her prayer was ended she arose, and turning, saw me standing there. In sheer "/;; her face there was the radiance of an angel facing the Throne of God ' ' Carma 251 amazement she beheld me, nor did she utter -a sound, but stood spell-bound at the sight. Fairer than any woman under the stars was she. Her shoulders shone rosier than their wont, with the crimson tide of shame that dyed them at the thought of my vandal glance. "Quick, quick ! Lock that door and pull the bolt!" I cried. My ears, attuned to the imminence of every peril, had caught the swish of skirts, and with- out waiting for Gurtha, I ran across the room and myself turned the key. Immediately there was a knocking on the panel. "It is I, my lady ; Carma ! Open, in the name of mercy, open !" Gurtha's fingers were fumbling at the door before I could seize her hand. "Don't!" I whispered, interposing myself, and forcing her away. "How dare you!" she panted, rubbing her 252 The Stolen Throne hand against her robe, as though to cleanse it of the defilement of my touch. Then the realization of her utter sequestra- tion smote her, and she ran across the room and tried to tug the bell-cord. Again I thwarted her, but this time she contested with me, throwing her body against mine in the struggle. She writhed and twisted so, in my grasp, that I was forced to use more of my strength than I wished. "Oh, you cur, you unspeakable dog!" she sobbed, and leaned against the wall, with her head buried in her arms. "Now, be sensible," I whispered. "This is no time for weakness or hysteria. Listen closely to what I say. If we do not get out of the palace at once, neither you nor I will ever leave it. The palace-guard has gone over to Russia, and your death has been determined on. You must not question or hesitate. We have already waited too long." Carma 253 "Who are you?" she asked suspiciously. "A loyal subject, who offers his life to save your own." "Why should I believe you since you keep my woman from me? Unlock the door for Carma." "That I will not!" I replied. "For this hour / am master. You will do as I command. There is no Duchess of Stromburg to-night, only a woman whose need is great. If you are alive to-morrow, you may deal with me as you see fit, but realize this: I am determined to carry you out of this room to safety, if I have to bind you and bring you away in my arms." "Carma ! Carma !" she cried, "Go for help !" "I am right, you see," I said. "No one an- swers you. Now do you understand ? It was Carma who betrayed you. Has it not occurred to you, that I could not have entered here with- out assistance from this room? Oh, believe me, my lady, believe me ! Come to the light, I 254 The Stolen Throne will prove to you that I speak the truth. Here are the damning proofs of all that I have told you. Read. What more can I do to convince you? Wait!" I reached into my holster and drew my revol- ver. She, misunderstanding the movement gave a choking little cry and tore at the throat of her robe, baring her goddess breasts. Poor little, brave little Duchess ! Oh, how my heart bled at your piteous resignation ! How I longed to strain you to my bosom and accolade your courage with my kisses ! "Your Grace !" I murmured, dropping to my knees, "take this, and if you doubt now, bring me the justice which you think I merit." She made a little gesture of despair. "It is as God wills," she said. "I am in His hands!" A sudden gust of wind came from the win- dow and extinguished the tapers on the altar, leaving the room in total darkness. I drew Carma 255 aside the draperies to let in the moonlight and, glancing down, saw a shadowy group under the trees. The significance of the sight made my heart heavy. The delay had cost us dearly. I did not know that she was standing beside me, but when I looked up at her I saw that she understood. "Go !" she said softly. "I have brought this upon myself. Heaven reward your valor and fidelity! I cannot sacrifice so brave a man. Stromburg will need strong arms and patriot hearts to-morrow." "No, my lady!" I answered, "that I will not! I have found you in your peril, and I will bring you out of it in safety. Sh !" Carma was again at the door. I drew the bolts quickly and opened it. She was crouched on her knees, and before she could get away I seized her and dragged her into the room. "Oh, you traitor !" she snarled, as she tore to escape. 256 The Stolen Throne "Carma !" cried the Duchess. "Oh ! Oh !" "It's a lie, my lady! Don't believe him; he is an impostor." "Why did you stay and listen?" I asked. "I thought you had left with the other rats." She maintained a dogged silence for awhile, then faced me with defiance. "Every door is locked from without," she said. "I could not get away, or, depend upon it, I would have brought them here after you !" "Carma !" I cried, "get out of your clothes ! You must change with the Duchess. If you refuse, I will tear them from you by main force." "Not that! Not that! You can't mean it !" she panted as the realization of my plan came to her. "Why, they will come and think that I am My Lady, and will kill me \ Oh, take me away with you ! Don't, don't, don't. Oh, Your Grace, I was mad ; I did not realize how awful Carma 257 it would be ! He made me promise, and threat- ened to leave me, and I love him so ! But I re- pent now ; I will serve you like a dog to the end of my days! Only take me away!" and she swooned. Between us we managed to remove her outer garments and Gurtha slipped them over her boudoir robe. "Your hair," I said, "will betray you. Find a scarf and wrap it around you." We locked the one door from within, and then crossed into the corridor from which I had entered. The woman had struggled to her feet, and as I attempted to close the door, she seized it with her two hands and tried to keep it open, sobbing all the while. I unclenched Tier hold, but as fast as I loosened her grasp, she clutched the door again. There was nothing else to do. Life-precious moments were being wasted. I smashed her fingers again with the butt of my revolver. Haunted with her moans 258 The Stolen Throne of pain and fright, I turned the key, removed it from its lock and left her there. We made our way down the passage, but be- fore we had proceeded many feet, we heard some one coming toward us. The footfalls were irregular and lurching. I placed Gurtha to one side, and hastened forward. "Hello!" a voice muttered thickly. "Why did you not wait down there as you promised ? I thought you had gone." "You're late, Vogel," I replied, at happy random. "What kept you? You have been drinking." "Surely, I have," he mumbled. "Need a stimulant Liberty and Russia !" "Everything is ready," I assured him. "Carma grew alarmed at the delay and ran away. She locked up the Duchess. I will wait here for my share." "Don't trust me, eh? Think I won't divide Carma 259 fairly with you? All right, then; come with me and get it yourself !" "Oh, no, Vogel," I assured him, "you are wrong! I would be the last person in the world to doubt your honor !" "That's right," he rambled. "Honor of a soldier and gentleman never tarnished. Give me the key !" As soon as he had proceeded a fair distance I seized Gurtha's arm and ran on with her. As we passed into the open I blundered into a group of soldiers, the first of whom threatened me with drawn sword. "The password !" he demanded. "Liberty and Russia !" He came nearer and peered into Gurtha's face. "Oh, it's the woman/' he sneered, and shrugged his shoulders. Just then a shriek of terror came from the palace, and at the sound, the pack burst into the passage. No one noted that we remained behind, and so only we two 260 The Stolen Throne saw the flood of light that broke from Gurtha's window. Then there came another cry, the hideous scream of a man who knows that his soul has died and that his body must live. "Come!" I cried, and then looked up to see the last act of that night's miserable tragedy. A man was standing at the window, a man whose eyes were fixed on something at his feet, and as we turned, we saw him bury his head in his two hands and sway for support as he fell. "The Grave That No Man Finds CHAPTER XXII. 'The Grave That No Man Finds" HE Stromburg conspiracy died within an hour after it at- tempted to rear its ugly head. Thanks to Antsley's timely in- tervention, what might have been a murderous revolution al- most proved an opera bouffe fiasco. Burton and Whitworth did valiant work in arousing aid and, even as Gurtha sped through the streets with me, seeking a haven for the night, the thundering hoofs of cavalry sounded in the distance and the almost muffled tread of quickly .marching men, came to our ears in a vague blur of sound. The true extent of Blitzow's in- fluence has never been ascertained, for the un- expected counter-move of the State against the cabal, chilled the ardor of conspiracy in many a breast that had burned with the hysteria of re- 264 The Stolen Throne yolt. So that the little company of renegades, which had been chosen to initiate the uprising, found itself opposed by a force of pitiless, men- acing loyalists. When they heard the march of the soldiers, they had been deceived. Un- conscious of the betrayal of their plans, to them it was the approach of friends and so no thought of retreat crossed their minds. In- stead, they broke into a cheer when the stars shone on the glittering bayonets and flashed on the waving yactagans of the hussars. It was not a fight; it was barely a struggle; it was simply slaughter. They did not know what was in store for them until the foremost man in their ranks leaped into the air fumbling at a hole in his throat. Then came the first volley and before they could draw their weapons and with their half incredulous senses rally in the face of their assailants, the bayonets were already tearing through them and the horses were beating them to the ground. The The Grave That No Man Finds 265 attacking party outnumbered them frightfully. At first, they fought in two definite masses ; but after half of the malcontents were down, those who were still unscathed (or who were whole enough to move) threw their weapons from them and ran helter-skelter in any direction which promised safety. The melee changed to a hunt. The organized troops broke from the control of their officers and an ominous game of "hare and hounds" followed. Often a dozen men were in full cry after a single fugitive. And Fate must have smiled with a wry mouth that night, for many of the soldiers who hacked the hardest and stabbed the deepest, had covertly pledged their allegiance to the very cause which they were now opposing. It was only blind chance that did not make them mem- bers of the same pack which they hunted. They fought as wolves fight. And they showed the same cruelty that a wolf shows when a weak brother falls in the chase. 266 The Stolen Throne The early carters, rubbing the sleep from their heavy eyes, saw strange things that morn- ing in Stromburg. Dead men littered the streets. Some lay upon the cobble stones, their twisted limbs setting with the stiffening chill of death. Some rested where they had crouched in the hallways of homes. One boy hung over the side of a bridge, with a leg crooked upon the rail and his head bent forward, just as he had been when a bullet checked his plunge into the Sarga. While one body of troops was rushed to the palace, another spread through the town, bent on a different mission. For the papers found on Helzer were signed with the names of many unwary men and seventy of these were cap-' tured. The rest escaped and made their way into the mountains, to hide there until a favor- able opportunity presented itself to gain the frontier. The citizens of Stromburg could hardly The Grave That No Man Finds 267 realize what had transpired, so complete and swift had been the reprisal. Gurtha and I were almost at the Legation when we encountered the chancellor and his son. Aroused by Whit- worth, they had set out with a guard to dis- cover her fate. With a cry of relief they took her from my charge and removed her to a place of safety. Deeming it unwise to remain abroad, now that she was out of danger, I sought entrance at the Continental. It was a wise judgment. For, hardly had I slipped into the cautiously opened door when the square was overrun with a shrieking medley of men. And I do not know but what, in the promiscuous fighting, I might have met with serious injury at the hands of some excited and misguided soldier, had I ven- tured to reach the Legation through their midst. Before another night had passed the final line was added to the chapter. An immediate 268 The Stolen Throne trial had been given the captured revolution- ists. The drum-head court dealt swiftly with the guilty and the tidings of its verdict swept through the city like an ill wind of disaster. It was not a pretty sight to see the seventy doomed wretches march forth at dusk with black cloths covering their faces and their elbows held tight behind their backs with cruelly drawn knots. A light rain had been falling and the faint fragrance of bleeding earth came from a newly opened trench, that gashed the center of the parade grounds. A file of soldiers was deployed on either side of the line and they paced to the sobbing measure of muted drums. After the seventy came the regi- ments of Stromburg and the haggard light dis- closed a straggling mob of towns-people in the wake of the soldiery wives and mothers sisters and sons fathers and daughters whose grief was a fitting accompaniment to the ominous wail of the drums. The Grave That No Man Finds 269 They stood them on the edge of the trench, these seventy men, and the sun slinking down in the western heavens, absent-mindedly started to smile upon the scene, but remember- ing, quickly hid his face behind the mountains. The priests offered up prayer. Their voices were torn with woe. On the outskirts of the scene, the fringe of kneeling figures silhouetted in the haze, chokingly joined in the appeal to God. The seventy, they prayed too. But none could hear them for the distance that separated them from the throng. It was an unsteady line that stood upon the edge of the trench, with here and there a shud- ^dering weak brother, who swayed with fright of the blind future. One man tottered and supported himself against a comrade, but both their hands were tied and so he slipped and fell down. When the prayer ceased, they made up a 270 The Stolen Throne firing party, but first a corporal took their guns, and every third one he loaded with blank cartridges, so that each man could give himself the benefit of doubt, if his conscience cried against his acting as executioner. One by one, they shot them down. So that those who were present had their hearts torn afresh at each volley, for every man thus died seventy times in the memory of his people. And, when the last one fell, a party of sap- pers came and pushed their bodies into the trench and raked the earth back over it, piling it up in a loose mound. Then the drums sobbed anew and the regiments swept into step first the infantry, then the cavalry and last the artillery. Straight on they marched, drawn-faced men with hurt souls and shuddering eyes straight over the field they went, over the grave itself the heels of the soldiers and the hoofs of the horses and the wheels of the cannons and the The Grave That No Man Finds 271 carriages, and when they passed once, they re- formed and marched over the grave again. So that, when they left the field, no one could tell where the grave had been, for all the ground was now trampled alike. And no mother could come in after days and moan over the resting place of her son's body, and no sweetheart could know where her lover lay. And it was a good thing for the State to have it so to breed into the very wombs of its women, the shuddering horror of the traitor's death and the "Grave That No Man Finds." Wiedersehen CHAPTER XXIII. 'Auf Wiedersehen" IHERE are miseries that cut a man's memory like the slash of a dulled knife and leave much the same brutal scar. One such night comes out of the sobs of the past now and blots my page with tears. A night of numb, dumb, aching travail. A night built of a million clock ticks, when time slipped back two minutes, each time the hands spelt one. I sat alone with the fantasies that God in his infinite cruelty, sends to man that he may realize how very dear was Paradise. Tick, tick, tick, tick ! Damn the noise ! How the clangor of the minutes shattered the silence. I paced the floor to their rhythm. My very veins caught the measure and surged and pulsed in consonance with the tumult. I know 276 The Stolen Throne that Hell is just an eternity of nights as this no peace, no calm just pain emptiness aching and despair. Oh, the torture of these last months. My hopes had leaped when Burton brought me word that freedom had been granted me. The proof of Russia's complicity in the plot had nullified her right to demand my punishment and what misconstruction had been placed upon my earlier exploits in Stromburg, was erased by the knowledge that it was I who had led Gurtha to safety. I waited for many days, but no word came from her, until at last I was forced to realize the folly of my dreams. And so Antsley and I had gone away. We travelled through the Balkans; we rambled through the Caucasus; we hunted in the Tyrol; but life was flat and had no zest. Always the longing to see her again gnawed away at my peace. In the end I had returned, Auf Wiedersehen 277 dominated by the torturing strain of my futile infatuation. And now that I was back to Stromburg, once more I knew how fruitless my hopes had been. I saw the truth in its naked cruelty. Life held nothing for me except one drab 'to-morrow/ And with that realization I determined that I would leave again in the morning. I would content myself with mem- ories of her. I would take up my life back in my own world of the commonplace; but still I knew that I would always have her image fresh in my soul, and when the pain gnawed hardest and my heart was heavy, I would make her memory a rosary of consolation. I would find .peace in knowing that I had come to her at her need, and not in vain. After all, it was best that she did not know. If I could not have her heart, I would not take her pity, and so I sat with lumpy throat and tears of self-commisera- tion fighting their way to my eyes. 278 The Stolen Throne Burton arose early and we took breakfast together. "So you're going back to London," he said, with a whimsical smile. "I envy you ! There's only one London. A man can find Paris in a half dozen quarters of the globe, but you can't transplant London. She calls you back home, and your heart hears the cry, singing like the voice of an absent sweetheart. She's dirty and she's murky, and she's noisy, is London. She's a hard-headed old woman and likes her own ways, but, after all's said, they're best. "So you'll go home and forget the days you spent up here in the mountains. You'll pound the Strand from Waterloo to Oxford. You'll philander along New Bond and gaze in the shop windows, like a Cheshireman on his first trip to town. You'll drink your Scotch and avow that no whiskey ever tasted like it, know- ing all the while that you've had the same stuff every day since you left. You'll wear damn Auf Wiedersehen 279 fool lemon-yellow gloves, and have tea and but- ter-bread at a dinky little table in the Cecil courtyard, with a clumsy, senemic girl, and say blase things, and wear a 'To-let' expression, and seem bored to death, but your whole being will be chortling with the joy of home. "You'll get tangled up in an impossible fog, and swear, and try to feel disgusted, but you wouldn't trade that curtain of aerated mud for the fairest morning that ever blushed over the hills yonder. "You'll drop in at Pagani's or Simpson's and eat good beef and bad potatoes and an abomin- able gooseberry tart, and you'll wash it all down with lukewarm beer and wind up with coffee that would make a Vienniese shudder, but you'll lie yourself into the belief that it's the first real food you've had in months. "You'll take in the Empire Promenade, and pick up some flat-chested little Cockney girl 280 The Stolen Throne from Tottingham Court Road. She'll be com- moner than dishwater, sans h's and finesse, but she's a part of London, and so you'll waste the evening with her. "She only loans us to the rest of the world, does mother London, but she holds our hearts and our memories in pledge, and sometimes we die, but mostly we come home and reclaim them." "Burton," I sighed, "You don't know! One can see that you have never been in love." "A hundred times," he answered, "and each time it was worse than before. This love busi- ness travels on a geometrical ratio the last i case always carries the compounded interest of the others. It's a fine thing for the heart, though; exercises and strengthens it. The throbs give the muscles plenty of play and de- velopment It's like boxing; the harder you're slugged, the easier you find it to stand up to the next ripping smash." Auf Wiedersehen 2 8 1 He smiled at me, and patted me on my shoul- der. Then his tone altered. "I know you're hard hit, old chap, but you'll pull through. It's the wisest thing in the world, what you're doing. I am glad that you are leav- ing. This pretender business put you into a theatrical frame of mind, and your perspective has been a bit sentimental, just now. When you get away from the stage setting, you'll feel like the actor after he leaves the playhouse be- hind him glad to be real again. There, I must be off! I'll see you awhile after lunch- eon!" When he left, I went to my room and got at my packing. This was soon finished, and as there were some trifles that I required for the journey I went into town, but soon returned. Passing into the house, I noted in a casual manner that a brougham was drawn up at the porte-cochere. 282 The Stolen Throne Alward, Burton's man, came to me in the hall. "A lady is waiting to see you, sir," he said, and pointed to the drawing-room. Handing him my hat and gloves, I drew aside the draperies, and found a veiled woman sitting with her back towards me. As she did not turn at my entrance, I crossed to her and asked to what I was indebted for the honor of her presence. For answer she lifted her veil. "Youl" I cried, and stood and stared. A thousand speeches rushed to my lips and lost themselves on the threshold of utterance. At last my tardy senses regained their sanity, and I knelt. But she took my hand and commanded me to rise. "You must not kneel to me," she said. "A brave man should bend his knees to no one save his God. I know all that you have done for me. I realize my debt to you. Why did you leave before I could come and acknowledge the obli- Auf Wiedersehen 283 gation ? It was a cruel thing. It has made me suffer shame all these months. It is not the Duchess of Stromburg who has come to you. I have left the crown and the tinsel of state back there on the throne with vanity and royal pride. When I learned of your return I de- termined to see you at once ; to come as women come to men to whom they owe much. And you must understand me so and forget who and what I am." "I cannot ever forget," I answered her, "nor ever wish to, for I shall have this memory of your graciousness, and I would again endure all the unrequited love for the sake of this hour. I shall be content to think that I have done a -service to your cause and in that shall find my happiness. I realize that you are as utterly be- yond my arms as the highest star in Heaven, but I have always loved you and always shall, wherever I shall be, wherever you shall be." "Ah!" and she looked away, "if I were a 284 The Stolen Throne man, and I loved, I would let nothing, nothing, neither rank nor power, stand between me and my heart's yearning. I would master circum- stance, scale the mountains of privilege, be as patient as the rocks, and only surrender to death!" "My Lady," I said, "there was a time when I would have wrested the sceptre from your hand and dragged you from the throne because it would have brought you nearer to me, and made me your peer. I would have humbled you in the dust, and covered your heart with bruises, so that I might come after and wash away the hurt with my tears, and take away the bruises with my kisses. I swore to God, and to myself, that I would mount the throne of Stromburg, and then lift you back beside me, my Queen! I wanted power because power meant you. It was always you. Nothing could have stayed me. But it was a dream !" Auf Wiedersehen 285 "A dream!" was the murmured reply. "Why?" "Because, without your love, there could be nothing for me, and when I learned that your love was given, I could only lay everything at your feet, in token of my devotion, and go." "Because you knew my love was given ?" she repeated. "How did you know ?" "I heard it from your lips, as you knelt in prayer and cried out the truth to God !" She buried her face in her hands, and her form shook with emotion. The sight of her pity cut me cruelly. But she soon mastered herself and looked up with a strange smile. "Dreams, dreams !" she murmured, and sang to herself a snatch from a French chansonette: "L' amour est un reve, Et le reve c'est une rose" I led her to the door and pressed her un- gloved hand in parting. Then I conducted her to her carriage. 286 The Stolen Throne "Good-bye, My Lady !" I whispered hoarsely. "Is it not auf wiedersehenf" she queried, smiling. But I turned away and would not look back. The End of the Dream CHAPTER XXIV. 'The End of the Dream." [HERE'S the frontier," pointed Whitworth through the win- dow. "See that tower rising beyond the trees? You will have to wait two hours there for your connection. The hun- dred and three miles of the great Stromburg Railway system end at this junction, and so do I. I don't know what we shall do to keep up an interest in life after you are gone. You have set such a ripping pace for events ! Need- less to say, how much I shall miss you both. "But you will come back again to see us in the fall, when the hunting opens. I met a chap last week who has an estate up in these moun- tains. He tells me that it is teeming with deer, and game and wild boar. He wants me to visit him in October. I'll have him include you, if 290 The Stolen Throne you make up your minds to run over. His preserves are near the Royal Forests. Gurtha herself is an enthusiastic huntswoman. "I once saw her take a boar, single-handed. Dashed at him like a lancer, and caught him at the first thrust. Still, he almost did for her. It was like this. The tusker was an old brute and as savage well, as a boar ! We found his spoor early in the morning, but it was noon before we came up to him. He had ripped two of the hounds cruelly, and the rest of the pack were pretty well cowed. Gurtha would have it no other way, but that we should hold back and let her take him alone. As I said, she managed to stick him, but her lance cleft right into his shoulder and stuck there, and as she had taken him at full tilt, the impetus wrenched her from the saddle and threw her right in his track. Before we could reach the spot, she had darted back of a tree, escaped his first rush, and then, I'll be hanged if she didn't go for The End of the Dream 191 him on foot and finish him with the knife ! Oh, she's thoroughbred! There isn't a yellow streak in her nature. She fights for things and she gets them. All heaven and hell can't make her change, if she's determined on a thing. Her father was such, before her. He might have had the Roumanian throne, but he would not marry the woman Russia picked out. He found his wife among the people, and when the Church began to talk morganatic rot, and the flubdub of divine blood, there were strenuous days in the clerical camp. They kicked like mules and hawed about precedent. "Well," he told them, "if you can't find a precedent for me, I!ll make one for you." He won his point, lost Roumania and found his happiness. Gurtha is, to my mind, the ablest woman in Europe to- day, as well as the most obstinate. Why, there isn't a man on the Continent who could have squelched last winter's treason as ably as she dealt with it. I sometimes wonder what sort of The Stolen Throne a marriage she'll make. They haven't been able to please her up to now, although the royal hus- band-market has offered pretty much its entire assortment for her inspection." The train had by this time snailed its way into the terminal. "Be sure that you get every- thing," warned Antsley. "What's that up in the rack?" "Doesn't belong to me," I answered. "I'm sure it isn't mine," he said. "See what it is!" I took down the parcel. It was long and light. To my utter surprise, my name was on the wrapper. At that moment our porter came and said that the inspector was ready to go through our baggage. Beyond a few boxes of matches and a flask of brandy, he found noth- ing dutiable among my belongings, so I knelt to lock my trunk, placing the unopened parcel on top. "Wfiat's this?" tKe official asked, taking it in The End of the Dream 293 his hands. He cut the strings and, removing the paper, produced an exquisitely carved box. Within lay a single rose. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "it is from Marga's Gardens. To-night all Stromburg will come and gather such as this." I strained the gorgeous thing to my nostrils. Its fragrance was heavy with the spell of vis- ions. I saw her again, twining roses in her hair. She smiles upon me. She tears a bud from out of the garland and tosses it to my eager hands. She lies struggling in my arms, and her lips are crushed to mine. And now a year has gone, and to-night she will come again, and I shall not be there to see the glory of her loveliness. It has all been a dream, this year in Stromburg, a dear, wild, bitter-sweet whimsy. Still, this rose is no fantasy. Whose hand has plucked and sent it to me ? I examine the box and start. It bears the royal arms. But what is this, nestling in 294 The Stolen Throne the petals of the flower? I draw forth a slip of paper. It bears a verse : He hurled the rose The dragon paused 'Beside the River Sarga. "What wilt, from me "For this?" cried she. "A kiss, my Lady Margaf" Some one is calling to me, but I do not hear. "Wake up ; stop dreaming !" "Go away !" I cry ; "I don't want the dream to stop." "The train is going back to Stromburg, and Whitworth wants to say good-bye." "Back to Stromburg !" I murmur in a mist ; "yes, that where I'm going !" Some one tugs at my sleeve. "So long, old chap ! I must dig for it, God bless you, and come back soon I" The End of the Dream 295 Whitworth is on his way across tHe train- shed. He darts into an open compartment. The porter slams the door. The engine gives a shriek. I take a firmer grasp upon the rose. Its thorns press into my hands, but I do not feel the pain. One by one the doors are being locked. "Wait !" I cry, and leap into a carriage. The axles creak, the wheels grind ; some one, away in the distance is calling my name and gesticu- lating madly on the receding platform. I smile. I am going back to Stromburg, back without Antsley without luggage. But I do not care. I am going back with a rose. The afternoon is soon gone. Dusk steals over the fields. The green hills are blushed with purple. Night is calling the stars to awaken. One by one they fall into their setting. The moon shifts out from a fluffy cloud and 296 The Stolen Throne sails a thousand miles across the heavens. The Sarga ripples against her banks. Stromburg sprawls out of the distance. The axles creak. The wheels grind. The door of my carriage is unlocked. A porter asks for my luggage. I gravely tender him a rose. I rattle through the town, up the hillside, past the Continental, out of the Square. The streets are thronged. The crowd moves in one direc- tion. It winds its way through the gates of a garden. There is music and there is song, and untold roses are baring their hearts for the kiss of night. But there are two roses, rarer than the keys of heaven. One is red, and I hold it in my hand. One is white, and the moon is fondling her, in sheer joy of her beauty. "The old dreams have come back !" I cry, and fall upon the grass beside her. "Do you under- The End of the Dream 297 stand, you beautiful, wonderful woman, the old dreams? Can you realize how like a goddess you are to my eyes? The same light is on your hair, the same unutterable loveliness is in your face, and in the glow of your eyes is the spark that lighted the eternal fires of love !" She smiles. "Why, it's the troubadour come back again. Where is your lute, and what new songs have you learned in the year?" "Lady, my lute is your heart," I answer, "and the only song that I have learned, is the first song that the first man sang to the first woman, when God jewelled the first day '/ love you!' ' "A short refrain!" "It never ends, and lovers find it ever new." "Yet it lacks variety." "Not so, for each time the heart hears it with a different ear, and then forgets and strains again to hear the ever unfamiliar melody." 298 The Stolen Throne "True, perhaps, for a day !" "Love laughs at time." "What if this lute, which you speak, is still unstrung?" she questions. "Turn your eyes to mine, and let me learn !" I plead. "What may you learn there ?" "The song of your soul." "Awhile ago you said it was my heart I" "A woman's heart and soul are one." She leans nearer, and lifts her face. "Read !" she commands. "I do not dare!" "And, pray, why not?" "For fear, that seeking heaven, I may ven- ture hell!" "I have heard there is no love in hell." "No," I say, "there is only hell in love!" "And where lies heaven?" "Love is heaven." The End of the Dream 299 "Strange," she murmurs, "love is heaven, and love is hell !" "Just so," I answer, "love is heaven and hell." "But why do you fear to learn ?" "Because," I whisper, "I would not 'waken from the dream. Because to-night, I dare for- get who you are. To-morrow the petals of my hopes will fall and strew the ground, as all the roses here. Now it will be harder. Could you not have spared me this? I knew that it was madness, but I came, and to-morrow I shall go, and never, never see you again !" "Love is a dream, and the dream is a rose !" she murmurs to herself. A youth comes into the moonlight and stops before us. "What shall I sing for you?" he asks. "Of love and of roses," I answer. "They are one," he laughs, and he fingers his strings. 300 The Stolen Throne "Love is a flower, a passioned rose, Trembling with the dew, Sweet and fair, of fragrance rare, That was the love I knew! And so I made my heart a shrine, To hold it dear fore f er, For love is a rose, and the wide world knows That the rose blossoms everywhere! "But beware of the thorns of the rose. Every rose has its thorn, And love is a rose, W 'hen its beauty. is gone, Then its cruelty shows, And it sinks in the heart. Rends and tears it apart, Oh, beware of the thorns of the rose!" "Now you know why I would not look into your eyes!" I whisper. She does not answer. "Because," I continue, "I feared to seek the rose and find the thorn!" The End of the Dream 301 "I prayed that God would take the bitterness away," she whispers. "Now do you under- stand now do you fear to know ?" I draw her to me. "I want to see your eyes !" Her face is near to mine, and her warm, young breath is hot upon me. "It is a dream," I murmur. "It was never a dream !" she replies. "And so you prayed for me!" I say, "and I was there and did not know ! I heard you tell your love, and my heart did not hear. I saw the light in your eyes, and I was blind. When did you know ?" "Always!" is her reply. "For a year is sometimes always, and it is now a year. I sought to deny the truth, but my heart always knew the lie. I tried to hate you, and when I hurt you most, I loved you all the more. I ; wished to forget, and only remembered. You are the best and truest lover in the world! I would be a thing to be despised did I deny you ! 302 The Stolen Throne I would have a heart of stone had I closed my breast to your devotion! I have tried you cruelly, and I have heaped wrong, suffering and insult on you, but you gave me love and de- votion and sacrifice in return. Dear heart, take me to you, and hold me, for I have been lonely so long!" A voice sings in the distance : "Thus came the foyance of the rose, Beside the River Sarga, When royal miss a lout may kiss, As once did Lady Marga, And none may say A word of nay, For thus kissed Princess Marga!" The singer stands before us as he ends, and when he strikes the last chord, he bends and gathers a handful of petals from the ground and rains them upon our heads. The End of the Dream 303 "Kiss her, lad !" he cries, "Tis Lady Marga's Day, and to-morrow you may not !" But he does not know. A 000 1 1 1 1 52 5