The Princess Dehra

“Everything has worked so smoothly it rather suggests the reverse,” he said confidently; “but whatever happen, you must keep with me or Moore. – Gentlemen, I neglected to say that you will retain your caps until I remove mine. – Lieutenant Marsov, will you oblige me by turning off all the side lights?”

Presently, from somewhere down the corridor, came the ripple of Madeline Spencer’s laugh, and the ring of her clear voice.

“Good-night, Monsieur le Comte! I thank you for the dance, and all the rest;” – then in quieter tones: “no, you may not come in; you have annoyed the Duke quite too much to-night, as it is – to-morrow? well, may be —tout à l’heure!” and the laugh again, and the closing of a door.

The Princess looked at Armand and gave a faint shudder, but made no comment.

In a moment the maid returned. “It is as you wish, Monsieur le – Monsieur,” as the Archduke’s gesture stopped the title. “Madame awaits you at once.”

In the room adjoining the boudoir, the Archduke left the others and went in alone.

Mrs. Spencer curtsied.

“Your Highness honors me,” she said.

“Pray, madame,” said he, returning her greeting with the curtest of military salutes, “let us eliminate unnecessary ceremony – this is an official visit, made at your particular request; if we are ready to begin, I will call my witnesses.”

She watched him smilingly, pressing down the roses that lay across her breast – red roses, on a black gown that ended far below the dead-white neck and shoulders.

“What a cold-blooded brute you are, Armand,” she mocked. “Can it be, that the pretty, innocent, little doll, out yonder in the Palace, has found a drop that is warm even when fresh from the heart?”

He looked at her in steady threat.

“Madame, I have told you I am here for but one purpose; beyond that, even in conversation, I decline to go. I tried to make it clear to you at the Inn, how I would come, and why. I do not remember your record, nor even know your name; if I did, it would be my duty to send you immediately out of Valeria, and under escort. If, however, you presume to use this occasion to become offensive, I shall be obliged to remember, and to know.”

She laughed scoffingly, and taking a cigarette lighted it.

“As a token of peace,” she said softly, and proffered it to him… “No? – I thought Ferdinand said he had learned it from you and – but, of course, it does make a difference whose are the lips that kissed it.”

The Archduke turned abruptly and went toward the door; another such word and he might forget she was a woman. She might be able to show him the Book, but, even could she give it to him, he would not have it, if its price were the Princess on her tongue.

She saw she had gone too far.

“Armand!” she cried, “Armand! stay – I’ll be good – I’ll be good.” – She sprang forward and caught his arm – “Don’t go – think of what I can show you.”

“Then show it, madame,” he answered, facing her and so displacing her hand; “show it; and leave off personalities.”

Without replying, she went to a window, and drew the shade aside a little way.

“Yes, he is there,” she said, “but Bigler is with him … ah! he is going – now, we shan’t have long to wait.” – She motioned the Archduke to her. “See – there shouldn’t be any doubt of the identification, if he give you a chance to see it.”

He went over and looked. She was right; nor would they need the field glass to recognize it. Fifty yards away, in the opposite wing, were Lotzen’s apartments – his library windows raised, the shades high up, the curtains drawn back; and he, himself, at the big table under the chandelier, a twin drop-light focused on the writing pad.

And even while the Archduke looked, Lotzen arose and from the safe behind him took out a package wrapped in black.

“That’s it!” Madeline Spencer exclaimed, “that’s it! – Here is the glass – ”

He lingered for another glance, before summoning the others – and Mrs. Spencer forestalled him.

She ran to the door and flung it wide.

“Come,” she said, “come – His Highness needs you.”

The Princess had been talking to Colonel Moore, her back to the door; as it opened, she threw up her head, and turned with an eager smile, thinking it was Armand – and so gave Mrs. Spencer a full view of her face. Then Moore stepped quickly between them and suavely bowed Mrs. Spencer into her boudoir; the next moment the Archduke was there.

“With your permission, madame, we will extinguish the lights,” he said, “and raise the shades.”

She smiled maliciously, deliberately moving near enough to see the Princess over Moore’s shoulder.

“Extinguish the lights?” she laughed, “certainly; darkness will be better for the business, and will conceal —everyone,” and herself went over to the main switch at the corridor door and pushed it open.

The Princess caught Armand’s hand.

“She recognized me,” she whispered.

“Oh, no, dear; you’re only nervous,” he answered – though he was satisfied she was right. “Keep your hat well down, and don’t look at her; the moment you have identified the Book, we will leave; you go with Moore; I’ll engage the vixen until you’re out of range.”

He had led her to a window and raised the shade. The lights from the Duke’s library leaped across the garden court at them, but he, himself, was not visible, though on the table lay the package, still wrapped in black as when taken from the safe. Some one came behind them, and Armand glanced over his shoulder – it was Mrs. Spencer, and she was looking at the Princess; nor did she cease, though she knew his eyes were on her; instead, she smiled and shot him a quick glance, and resumed the looking. He felt Dehra begin to tremble – whether with anger or nerves, he could not tell – and Mrs. Spencer spoke.

“Your Highness’ companion is evidently unused to adventures, despite his uniform; he is actually twitching with excitement.”

“Or with the temptation of your proximity,” Armand replied giving her his back. And Dehra laughed softly.

Colonel Moore had been at another window; now he came over, and, in the most casual way, found Mrs. Spencer’s hand and gave it a familiar squeeze.

“You’re pretty enough to-night to give even an old-stager like me a flutter,” he whispered in his most caressing tones, and, in the darkness, slipped his arm around her waist.

She pushed it away, though not very vigorously it seemed to him.

“You are impertinent, sir,” she said.

“I meant to be; it’s the only way to get on with you,” and he deliberately put his arm around her again, and rather more tightly. “Come along to my window,” he urged.

She knew very well that his purpose was to divert her from the Princess, but she went – nor appeared to bother that his arm remained. Here, was a new sort of man, with a new sort of method, and she was, if the truth be told, very willing for them both. Besides, her time would come presently.

“Moore is a wonder,” Armand commented – and broke off, as the Duke came into view and sat down at his table.

But Lotzen was in no haste to unwrap the package; he drew it over and slowly loosed the cords, then suddenly laid it aside, and coming over to the window, seemed on the point of drawing the shade; but he changed his mind, and after staring into the garden and toward Mrs. Spencer’s apartments, he returned to the table.

Without more ado he removed the black cloth, but pushed it in a heap, so that it hid the book – that it was a book, they could distinguish, but nothing else – and went to examining some papers he took from it.

The Princess stirred restlessly; her nerves were not attuned to such tension; and the Archduke reassured her by a touch and a word. Over at their window, Mrs. Spencer and Colonel Moore were whispering, and laughing softly, the latter, however, with a wary eye across the courtyard. The swinging cadence of a Strauss waltz came, brokenly, from the orchestra still playing in the great hall, with, now and then, a burst of men’s voices in noisy hilarity from the card rooms or the main guard.

Presently the Duke put down the papers, and, pushing aside the black cloth, disclosed the back of the book – black, with heavy brass hinge-bands across it.

“Look,” the Princess exclaimed, “look! it’s very like it – why doesn’t he lift the cover … there! – see, the pages, too! – it must be! – it is! – it – ”

“Run away, girl!” came Count Bigler’s voice from the corridor, “run away, I say – you’re pretty enough, but I want your mistress now.” There was a moment’s scuffle, and the door swung back – “Dark! well, ‘let there be light!’” and he snapped the switch.

It all was done so quickly and unexpectedly that Mrs. Spencer was caught half way to the door, as she sprang to lock it; Armand had time only to push the Princess away from the window and step in front of her; while Colonel Moore, with De Coursey and Marsov, tried to get across to cover the Archduke.

But they failed. Bigler saw him instantly.

“The American!” he shouted, “the American!” and wrenching back the door, he disappeared down the corridor.

“The fool!” Madeline Spencer exclaimed; “he has spoiled everything – quick, you must get away; I don’t want another De Saure house here,” with a look at Armand – “the way you came will still be open.” – She hurried ahead of them through the rooms to the stairway… “I’ve been honest and I want to prove it, but,” she laughed sneeringly after them, “the next time Her Highness plays the man, let her wear a mask and a larger shoe.” The noise of men running came from below. “Hurry!” she cried, “they are trying to cut you off.”

With the Regent between them, and De Coursey and Marsov behind, the Archduke and Moore dashed down the lower passage to the small door and out into the garden.

“Come along!” said Armand; “we don’t want a fight; make straight for the gate.”

Holding Dehra’s arm, he ran across the drive and, avoiding the winding path, cut over the grass – to bring up, in a moment, at a fountain in a labyrinth of thick hedges and walks, none of which seemed to lead gateward.

With a muttered imprecation, the Archduke chose the one that pointed toward the winding path by which they had entered, only to discover that it curved back toward the house.

“Take the hedge!” he ordered; and he and Moore tossed the Princess over the seven foot obstruction, and were swung up, themselves, by De Coursey and Marsov, whom they then pulled across.

But this took time; and now Bigler’s voice rang from the garden.

“Make for the side gates – I’ll look to the rear one!” he cried; and almost immediately they heard him and his men between them and their exit.

The Archduke stopped.

“There is no need to tire ourselves by running,” he said; “we shall have to fight for it, so we may as well save our wind. – Gentlemen,” – turning to De Coursey and Marsov – “to-night you are honored above most men – you will draw swords for the Regent under her very eye – behold!”

He lifted the hat from the Princess’ head, and the light of a near-by street lamp, that shone above the walls, fell full on the coils of high piled hair, and the fair face below it.

Both men cried out in astonishment, and, kneeling, kissed her hand.

Then they pressed on, finding almost immediately the path by which they had entered.

Meanwhile, the commotion in the garden near the palace had increased, and now the Duke of Lotzen’s stern voice cut sharply into the night, from one of his windows.

“What the devil is all this noise?” he demanded.

“Thieves, Your Highness,” some one answered from below – “five of them in madame’s apartments – they escaped into the garden.”

The Duke made no reply, at least which they could hear; and the Princess laughed.

“He’s off for madame,” she said; “and we are thieves – rather clever of Bigler to have us killed first and recognized later.”

“He didn’t see you,” said Armand; “he recognized me, and thinks this is the chance he missed at the De Saure house.”

A moment later they came into the wide drive-way, and face to face with the Count and a bunch of a dozen men.

He gave a shout that rang through the garden.

“Seize them!” he cried; “kill any that resist!” knowing very well that it would require the killing of them all. He, himself, drew his revolver and stepped to one side – a safer place than in the fighting line, and one where he could get a surer shot at the Archduke, if it were necessary.

But even twelve men hesitate to close with five, whose swords are ready; and in the instant’s pause, Dehra, flinging off her hat, sprang between Bigler and the Archduke, and covered the former with her pistol.

“God in Heaven! the Princess!” he cried, and stared at her.

“Will you play with treason, my lord Count?” she asked. “Drop that revolver! – drop it, I say! – and you men, stand aside! – into line, so! – return swords! – now, by the left flank, march! – fall in behind, Count, if you please – march!”

With a laugh and a shrug he obeyed.

“The Regent commands,” he said. – “Attention! salute!” and with hands to visors the column went by; while Dehra, fingers at forehead in acknowledgment, watched it pass and go down the drive toward the Palace.

Then she turned, and put out her hand to the Archduke.

“I’m tired, dear,” she said, “very tired – Captain De Coursey, will you bring the carriage to the gate?”

XVIII

ON TO LOTZENIA

“It is a most amazing situation,” said the Ambassador – as he and the Archduke sat in the latter’s headquarters, the following morning – “and one guess is about as likely to be right as another. It’s difficult to believe Spencer honest, and yet she seemed to play straight last night. She is of the sort who fiercely resent a blow and go to any length to repay it. And you think Bigler’s interruption was not prearranged?”

“It impressed me that way,” said Armand. “In fact, I’d say I am sure of it, if I had any but Lotzen or Spencer to deal with.”

“And you saw enough of the book to be satisfied it is the Laws?”

“To satisfy myself, yes – if that fool, Bigler, had waited a little longer, I would have known beyond a doubt.”

“And, as it is, you can’t be absolutely certain?”

“No; at least, not certain enough to make an open issue of it with Lotzen.”

Courtney shook his head decisively.

“It is a great misfortune you were not able to make sure,” he said; “for I’m persuaded it was not the Book. As I told Her Highness that day at luncheon, if the Duke ever did have it, he has destroyed it to get rid of Frederick’s decree; and if there were no decree, then he would have produced it instantly as establishing his right to the Crown.”

“If that be true – and I grant the logic is not easy to avoid – what was it I saw? I would have sworn it was the Book; it resembled it in every particular.”

Courtney’s fingers went up to his gray imperial, and for a long while he smoked his cigarette and stared thoughtfully at the ceiling.

“It is a fine mess,” he said, at length; “Spencer mixes it so abominably. What really brought her to Dornlitz? – how long has she been here? – did the Duke strike her – if there is a plot back of it, why should she have been selected to do the open work with you, of all people? – why, if Lotzen have the Book, doesn’t he destroy it? – why does he want you to see it in his very hands? – why, if he haven’t the Book, does he want to convince you that he has? – … If it’s a plot, then its object was either the one you suggest: to tempt you to violent measures against him to recover the Book, and so to discredit you with the Nobles when it’s not found; or – and this may be the more likely – to inveigle you into a death trap by using the Book as a lure.”

“Either of which,” observed the Archduke, “would explain his preservation of the Book.”

“Or sentiment,” Courtney laughed. “Her Highness thinks the Duke would never destroy the Laws of his House.”

“I fancy she wouldn’t be quite so strong on that now,” Armand observed. “I wish you had seen her last night; she was magnificent, simply magnificent. – Richard, she is the Dalberg of us all! – it’s she, not I, nor Lotzen, who ought to wear the Sapphire Crown.”

Courtney nodded in hearty acquiescence.

“And as she may not, it is for you,” he said, gravely, “to make her a Queen by wearing it yourself – and, as I believe I’ve admonished once or twice heretofore, to do that you must keep alive – dead Archdukes are good only to bury.”

“I’m very much alive,” the other laughed, “more alive than I’ve been since I shed cadet gray.”

“The Lord knows it is not from lack of effort on your part to get killed; you’ve tempted death in every dare-deviltry you could find – and this De Saure house affair is the limit – though last night was about as idiotic. The Princess has more discretion in an eye-lash than you have in your whole head – but for her, you would be surrounded now by tapers and incense – what fresh atrocity against common prudence will you perpetrate next, I wonder!”

The Archduke pushed the decanter across.

“Take another drink, old man,” he grinned, “you must be dry, with such a warm bunch of ideas jostling one another for exit – I’ll promise to be as discreet hereafter as a debutante. I admit the De Saure business appears foolish now, but then, at that hour of night, in darkness, rain and storm, would you, or any other man, have denied a woman’s call for help? I couldn’t.”

“Nor anything else that promises adventure,” said Courtney. “If Lotzen doesn’t make an end of you – ” he shrugged his shoulders and lit another cigarette… “I’ve sworn a dozen resolves to quit advising you; and then, every time I see you, you’ve gone and done some other foolish thing, and I blow off – if you will forgive me this time, and may be a few more times, I’ll not do it again.”

“My dear Dick,” said the Archduke, “the one thing I’ll not forgive is for you not to do it again. You’re the only man in all this land who would speak out his mind to me; and do you think it isn’t welcome – to have something of the old life occasionally?”

For a while both men smoked in silence, the Marshall thoughtfully, the Ambassador waitingly; and in the midst of it Colonel Bernheim entered with a letter for the Archduke, which, he explained, he had just received, enclosed in another envelope addressed to himself and marked “Immediate.”

Armand glanced at Courtney for permission, got it, and read the letter:

“A —

“We are leaving Dornlitz before daybreak by special train, ostensibly for Paris, really for Lotzen Castle. The Duke guessed instantly why you were in my apartments, and what you saw. We had a fearful scene, and he struck me again – the cur! It is the B.; he admitted it, in his rage – and he has it with him. I am a prisoner now, and compelled to accompany him because I know too much, he says. I’m not asking you for rescue, I can manage him in a few days; but if you want the B. you will know now where to get it. I owe you this, for the fiasco last night, due to that fool, B – , though I don’t advise you to follow; Lotzen Castle isn’t Ferida Palace, and I can’t aid you there; and besides, now, he is bent on your death, and intends to kill you at the first opportunity. I will find some way to have this mailed, sending it to Col. Bernheim so it will reach you promptly and not be delayed by official routine.

“M. S.”“3 A. M.”

Without a word, the Archduke passed the letter over to Courtney; and without a word Courtney took it, read it twice, and passed it back; and fell to blowing smoke rings through each other.

“Well,” said Armand presently, “when you’re satisfied with the rings, and it seems to me they couldn’t be bettered, I shall be glad to have your opinion of the letter.”

The other shook his head, and went on with the rings.

“What is the use?” he answered. “You are going to Lotzenia.”

“I’m sorely tempted, I admit – but I don’t know – ”

Courtney flung his cigarette at the fireplace, and got up.

“Then, if you don’t know, I’ll tell you what I think, – throw that damn letter into the fire and stay right here in Dornlitz; if you let it lure you to Lotzenia, you are an unmitigated fool.”

“But the Book! – and Spencer only confirms what my own eyes told me.”

“Lies, lies, rotten lies!” said Courtney. “He hasn’t the Book – it’s all a plant – you escaped last night because Bigler blundered in, and because the Regent was with you – but in that wild land of the North, you will last about a day, or less. Why don’t you forget the miserable Book, for a while, and get to work on your vote in the House of Nobles? – there is where you will likely have to fight it out any way, even if Frederick did make your decree. Play politics a bit, and you will have Lotzen back in Dornlitz on the jump – and the Book with him, too, if he has it.”

The Archduke went over and put his hand on Courtney’s shoulder.

“Dick,” he said, “it’s something worth living for to have known a man like you, and to have had him for a friend and companion; and if I don’t follow your advice you will understand it is because I can’t. You have called me headstrong; I grant it, it’s bred in the bone I think; and I’m not of those who can sit, and wait, and play politics. I shall find the Laws of the Dalbergs, somewhere, somehow, long before the year is over; and if necessary I’m going to kill Lotzen in the finding – or be killed – ” he broke off with a laugh and a shrug. “Positively, old man, I’m ashamed of myself; I seem to have become a braggart and a swash-buckler.”

“Who is the braggart and swash-buckler, my dear Marshal?” asked the Princess, entering suddenly, with Lady Helen Radnor, Mlle. d’Essoldé and Colonel Moore, “not Mr. Courtney I hope.”

“Unfortunately, no; Your Highness,” said Armand. “Candor compels me to admit that I was characterizing myself.”

She pointed her crop at the decanter, and nodded questioningly to the Ambassador.

“No,” said he, “no; it’s only a sudden rush of remorse for deeds past and to come.”

“To come?” said she, and looked at the Archduke inquiringly.

For answer he handed her Madeline Spencer’s letter.

She glanced at the signature, smiled, and with a word of excuse, she carried it over to a window; and Armand, chatting with Lady Helen, watched her curiously as she read and re-read it; and then she looked up quickly, and gave him the glance of summons.

“Have you shown it to Mr. Courtney?” she asked. “Did he say what he thought of it?”

“He did – and at some length, and also what he thought of me. – Briefly, it was to the effect that the letter is a snare, and that I’m several kinds of a fool if I let it lure me to Lotzenia.”

The Princess tapped her crop softly against her boot, and considered.

“Of course,” said she, in momentary interruption of her thought, “I know what you think – you think you’re going, – but I don’t know – ” and the tapping of the crop began afresh… Presently a soft light came into her eyes, and she flashed him the adorable smile. “Are you willing to wait the year for our wedding, dear?” she asked.

He bent down over her, as though looking at something in the letter.

“You know I’m not, sweetheart,” he said, “that’s why I want to find the Laws – to make you Queen the sooner.”

“Your Queen?”

“Mine – yes, either here in Valeria, or over the seas in old Hugo’s land – as the Book decides for Lotzen or for me.”

“And do you honestly think, Armand, that he has the Book?”

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Women don’t think – they have only intuition, and mine says that he has.”

“Then I shall go this night – ”

“And I with you.”

“Then I won’t go.”

“Nonsense, dear – why not? Dalberg Castle is always ready, and I shall take the Household, or part of it. I most assuredly would not let you go alone, to be butchered by our dear and loving cousin.”

He knew it was useless to protest.

“Well, come along, little woman,” he said; “and may be, together, we can devise a way for me to get the Book out of Lotzen Castle.”

She turned upon him, full faced and emphatic.

“But I’ll not go, nor shall you,” she declared, “unless you promise you won’t do anything without consulting me. I’m going because you need some one to curb your recklessness; and I have no mind to see you throw your life away just because you won’t take a dare.”

The Archduke gave her cheek a surreptitious pinch.

“I promise,” he laughed; “you’re something of a Dalberg dare-devil yourself when the fever is on – and you’re the finest little comrade and commander God ever made.”