The Puppet Crown

  CHAPTER XIII. BEING OF COMPLICATIONS NOT RECKONED ON

  Maurice leaped to his feet, a menace in his eyes. The Colonel crossedhis legs, rested his hands on the hilt of his saber, and smiled.

  "I could not resist the desire to have a friendly chat with you."

  "You have come cursed inopportune," snarled Maurice. "What do you want?"

  "I want to give you the countersigns, so that when you start forBleiberg to-morrow morning you'll have no trouble."

  "Bleiberg!" exclaimed Maurice.

  "Bleiberg. Madame desires me to say to you that you are to start forthat city in the morning, to fetch those slips of parchment which havecaused us all these years of worry. Ah, my friend," to Fitzgerald,"Madame would be cheap at twenty millions! You sly dog! And I neversuspected it."

  Fitzgerald sent him a scowl. "You are damned impertinent, sir."

  "Impertinent?" The Colonel uncrossed his legs and brought his kneestogether. "Madame has been under my care since she was a child,Monsieur; I have a fatherly interest in her. At any rate, I am glad thatthe affair is at an end. It was very noble in you. If I had had my way,though, it would have been war, pure and simple. I left the duchess inBrunnstadt this morning; she will be delighted to attend the wedding."

  "She will attend it," said Maurice, grimly; "but I would not lay odds onher delight. Colonel, the devil take me if I go to Bleiberg on any sucherrand." He went to the window seat.

  The Colonel rose and followed him. "Pardon me," he said to Fitzgerald,who did not feel at all complimented by Madame's haste; "a few words inMonsieur Carewe's ear. He will go to Bleiberg; he will be glad to go."He bent towards Maurice. "Go to Bleiberg, my son. A word to him aboutMadame, and off you go to Brunnstadt. Will you be of any use there?I think not. The little countess would cry out her pretty eyes if sheheard that you were languishing in the city prison at Brunnstadt, whereonly the lowest criminals are confined. Submit gracefully, that is tosay, like a soldier against whom the fortunes of war have gone. Go toBleiberg."

  "I'll go. I give up." It was not the threat which brought him to thisdecision. It was a vision of a madonna-like face. "I'll go, John. Whereare the certificates?"

  "Between the mattresses and the slats of my bed you will find a gun ina case. The certificates are in the barrels." His countenance did notexpress any particular happiness; the lines about his mouth were sharperthan usual.

  "The devil!" cried the Colonel; "if only I had known that!" He laughed."Well, I'll leave you. Six o'clock--what's this?" as he stooped andpicked up Maurice's cast-off hussar jacket.

  "I was about to use it as a door mat," said Maurice, who was in a nastyhumor. That Fitzgerald had surrendered did not irritate him half somuch as the thought that he was the real puppet. His hands were tied, hecould not act, and he was one that loved his share in games.

  The Colonel reddened under his tan. "No; I'll not lose my temper,though this is cause enough. Curse me, but you lack courtesy. This is myuniform, and whatever it may be to you it is sacred to me. You were notforced into it; you were not compelled to wear it. What would you do ifa man wore your uniform and flung it around in this manner?"

  "I'd knock him down," Maurice admitted. "I apologize, Colonel; it wasnot manly. But you must make allowances; my good nature has suffered asevere strain. I'll get into my own clothes to-morrow if you will havea servant sew on some buttons and mend the collar. By the way, who iseating three meals a day in the east corridor on the third floor?"

  Their glances fenced. The Colonel rubbed his mustache.

  "I like you," he said; "hang me if I don't. But as well as I like you,I would not give a denier for your life if you were found in thatself-same corridor. The sentinel has orders to shoot; but don't let thatdisturb you; you will know sooner or later. It is better to wait than beshot. A horse will be saddled at six. You will find it in the court. Thecountersigns are Weixel and Arnoldt. Good luck to you."

  "The same to you," rejoined Maurice, "only worse."

  The Colonel's departure was followed by a period of temporaryspeechlessness. Maurice smoked several "Khedives," while Fitzgeraldemptied two or three pipe-bowls.

  "You seem to be in bad odor, Maurice," the latter ventured.

  "In more ways than one. Where, in heaven's name, did you resurrect thatpipe?"

  "In the stables. It isn't the pipe, it's the tobacco. I had to break upsome cigars."

  Then came another period in the conversation. It occurred to both thatsomething yawned between them--a kind of abyss. Out of this abyss onesaw his guilt arise.... A woman stood at his side. He had an accomplice.He had thrown the die, and he would stand stubbornly to it. His pridebuilt yet another wall around him, impregnable either to protests or tosneers. He loved--that was recompense enough. A man will forgive himselfof grave sins when these are debtors to his love.

  As for the other, he beheld a trust betrayed, and he was powerless toprevent it. Besides, his self-love smarted, chagrin made eyes at him;and, more than all else, he recognized his own share in the Englishman'sfall from grace. It had been innocent mischief on his part, true, butnevertheless he stood culpable. He had no business to talk to a woman hedid not know. The more he studied the aspects of the situation the morewhimsical it grew. He was the prime cause of a king losing his throne,of a man losing his honor, of a princess becoming an outcast.

  "Your bride-elect," he said, "seems somewhat over-hasty. Well, I'm offto bed."

  "Maurice, can you blame me?"

  "No, John; whom the gods destroy they first make mad. You will come toyour senses when it is too late."

  "For God's sake, Maurice, who is she?"

  "What will you do if she breaks her promise?" adroitly evading thequestion.

  "What shall I do?" He emptied the ashes from his pipe, and rose; allthat was aggressive came into his face. "I will bind her hands and feetand carry her to the altar, and shoot the priest that refuses to marryus. O Maurice, rest easy; no woman lives who will make a fool of me, andlaugh."

  "That's comfort;" and Maurice turned in.

  This night it was the Englishman who sat up till the morning hours.Sylvia Amerbach.... A fear possessed him. If it should be, he thought;if it should be, what then?