A Dash for a Throne

  CHAPTER XIII

  A CHECK

  Matters were now hurrying fast to a crisis; and I hoped the result of myjourney would be to complete all my preparations, and leave me nothingto do but return to escort Minna to Munich. So far all had gone wellenough. I had no reason to think that either Heckscher or von Nauheimhad the remotest idea that I knew of their treachery; and it was, ofcourse, of the very essence of my plan that they should remain inignorance. On this account I was unwilling to meet Praga againpersonally, and I resolved therefore to send Steinitz to him as soon aswe reached Munich to tell him my intentions, and to get from him inreturn what he believed to be the Ostenburg move. I myself went straightto Baron Heckscher. He received me with apparent cordiality; but it wasnot difficult to see that as the day of the crisis drew near his anxietywas growing.

  "All is going well, I hope," I said, after I had greeted him. "We haveall our preparations made."

  "All is going very well," he replied. "But you are a day earlier inMunich than we anticipated."

  "I have not come to remain," I answered, "although I have some importantbusiness. My cousin is not well; and her nerves are giving way as theday approaches. I have difficulty in keeping her courage up. Like awoman, she has some foolish fear that at the last moment something willhappen to her--some disaster to overthrow her. But I have nearlyconquered that fear, I trust."

  "How?"

  "She associates the fear with her visit here, and I have assured herthat night and day, every hour and every minute, she herself will besurrounded by absolutely stanch friends who would give their lives forher. The death of her brother just at the moment when success seemed tobe within grasp is frightening her. Nor is that unnatural, especiallywhen we reflect that her nerves have again been strained by her father'sdeath."

  My words had the effect I desired. It did not suit his plans that Minnashould be guarded in this way.

  "The Countess is not ill, I trust," he said after a pause.

  "Oh, no, not positively ill. But she is very young, and so full ofalarms that even I myself am inclined at times to question the wisdom ofall this." Perceiving the value of the line I had taken, I went on tomake the most of it. "Indeed, I want some very confidential talk withyou. You understand that I am resolved to go on, and I have not breatheda word to suggest to her that there is even an alternative course; butthere are two points on which I wish to consult you. In the first place,is it quite impracticable to abandon the thing? I am convinced my cousinwould only too gladly renounce all claim to the throne."

  He looked at me sharply and with manifest consternation.

  "It is absolutely impossible, Prince, absolutely," he said emphatically."But you are not in earnest. Why, it would be madness, sheer madness tothink of such a thing. Since you were here we have sounded men in alldirections, and there is not one who is not enthusiastic at the idea ofgetting rid once and for all of this madman."

  "But my cousin can only make a weak Queen at the best."

  "My dear Prince, her weakness will be the strength of the country. Ourgreat object is not so much to change the person of the ruler as tobreak the traditions of the ruler's power--to put on the throne some onewhose title will rest, not on any right divine, but on the people'spower and will and choice. A woman will thus be far more dependent onthe people than a man. Prince, the countess cannot draw back."

  "But supposing she were willing to acquiesce in the election of theOstenburg heir, and thus unite all sections of the people?"

  "It is impossible, equally impossible!" he exclaimed readily. "It wouldbe a betrayal of us all. It is not to be thought of."

  I sat as if thinking this over, but in truth this prompt rejection ofthe means to do fairly what I knew he was plotting to do by foul hadfilled me with anger.

  "And what would be the immediate consequences of a withdrawal?" I asked.

  "Do you mean the personal consequences to the countess and yourself?" heasked, with a suggestion of contempt for such a consideration.

  "I mean to all concerned."

  "What could but be the consequences where three-fourths of a nation hadbeen worked up to desire a revolution and found themselves cheated atthe last moment by the--the timorousness of those in whose name and forwhose sake the whole movement has been carried out? The badge ofcowardice is a hard one to bear, Prince, and the anger of a disappointedpeople would not lighten the disgrace."

  "We are no cowards, Baron Heckscher," I replied warmly, as if stung byhis taunt.

  "Then you must not so act that people may mistake you."

  "We will not," I returned, with an air of angry decision.

  "I was sure of it, and am only sorry you thought it necessary even tomoot the suggestion. But now what is your second point? Not anotherobjection, I hope."

  "It is merely to discuss with you the last arrangements. Under thecircumstances you will, I am sure, see the necessity for making them assimple as possible--indeed, my cousin's health will not permit anythingelse."

  "Up to the moment of our great coup they cannot possibly be too simple.Anything else would be a great mistake. Up till somewhere about midnightof this day week, Wednesday next, the countess is of course no one butthe very charming young lady that I am assured she is--I mean she is aprivate person. In that capacity she will attend the reception, and inorder that there may be no suspicion attaching to her making a publicappearance so soon after her father's death it has been arranged that aspecial desire for her attendance shall be expressed by the King. Shewill merely attend, kiss hands, and pass through the presence chamber,and leave the palace at once, should it be desired. She can return homeand go to the ball, where she should be at about ten o'clock. She mustbe at hand of course when the great drama is played in which we are totake part. When the Act of Abdication has been read, you will lead herforward. That is all. We shall do the rest."

  "And what will follow then?"

  "I think she will stay at the palace. It is just in the few hourssucceeding that scene that we shall have to be alert. The King will bemissing, and a Council of State will be called on the following morning,when she will be proclaimed to the country. After that, events willsettle themselves rapidly. We are prepared with a petition to theImperial authorities, which will be signed by nearly every man ofinfluence in the country, to recognize the succession and validate theabdication."

  "But that Act of the King will surely be found to be a forgery?" I said.

  My companion smiled and shook his head.

  "On the contrary, it will be genuine. We should not use such clumsymeans as forgery. We have it already written. For once his Majesty'slunacy has done his subjects a good service," he said bitterly. "He wasminded recently to play a farce of abdication in favor of one of hishounds, declaring with his customary facetiousness that the Bavarianswere dogs, and a fit King for them would be a hound. Accordingly he heldwhat he was pleased to call a Privy Council--consisting of himself andhis dogs. But those about him knew their business, and when he thoughthe had abdicated in favor of his dog they fooled him to the top of hisbent, but drew the document in such a way that the insertion of thecountess's name would be an easy matter. The addition of a date willmake everything complete; and thus when the madman thought he was onlyinsulting his people, he was in fact signing away his throne. He hadthis dog, a clever poodle, seated in the chair in the Council Chamber,garbed in State robes, and crowned with the crown of Bavaria. I tellyou, Prince, that one act would stir the blood of even a nation ofcravens--and we Bavarians are no cowards. My blood boils at thethought," he cried, clenching his fist, while his eyes flashed, and hisface, usually immobile and cold, lighted up with the fires of passion.

  I joined him in a hot outburst of indignation.

  "But the time is past for mere anger," he said presently. "We areresolved to act; and that farce of his shall cost him dear. As toBerlin, so soon as we have driven home the conviction that we are indead earnest, and that practically the whole country is with us, therewill be no opposition. The usual o
fficial intimation will be publishedthat the King's health has failed, and the rest follows naturally."

  "But you are forgetting the Ostenburg interest."

  "I forget nothing, Prince," he replied, somewhat curtly. "I know thepublic feeling. The very inaction they are showing will make the DukeMarx impossible in the eyes of the people. While the country has beenwrithing and suffering under the insults and iniquities of this madman,what have the Ostenburgs done? Has one of them raised a finger to helpthe people or protest against this royal mumming? Has any one of themsaid a word? And how do you suppose the nation is to interpret thatsilence and inaction, except as approval of what has been done? They hadthe better right of succession and a strong following on their side;they have forfeited the one by their apathy and have lost the other as aconsequence;" and he went on to give many reasons for this conclusion.

  "I admit," he said at the close, "there will be some anxious hours justafter the Countess Minna is proclaimed; but, with all the will in theworld, they can do nothing. I tell you there is nothing can stay oursuccess nor shake your cousin's seat on the throne when she has oncetaken it."

  I allowed myself to appear to share his convictions, even while Imarvelled at the depth of his duplicity, and I then told him the plan ofour movements. He listened closely, and made several suggestions which Isaid we would adopt; and he quite acquiesced in my view that during thetime Minna was to be in Munich she should remain in the greatestseclusion, giving audience only to himself and two or three others.

  When I left him my task in Munich was practically finished, so far as hewas concerned; but he advised me to attend a reception at the palace onthe following day but one, the Friday, and I agreed. I felt sure I hadleft the impression I had gone to create--that their best time forabducting Minna would be at the moment of her return from the palace;and I completed my arrangements on that basis.

  Steinitz was waiting for me at the hotel with an important communicationfrom Praga, giving me the particulars of an intended attempt to carryoff Minna from Gramberg during the night; and though it seemed to me amad scheme enough, and pretty certain to be abandoned after my interviewwith Baron Heckscher, I despatched Steinitz post-haste back to thecastle to put von Krugen on his guard. Whether it were abandoned or not,the fact that we had knowledge of it would render it certain to fail,and I felt no great anxiety on that score.

  But I soon had cause for anxiety in another direction. The two men whomI had asked to visit Gramberg had not been there, and we were, in fact,perilously short-handed for all the work that had to be done. I was themore anxious, too, to get extra help because of a weak spot in my plans,which I could not remedy without further assistance.

  If the Ostenburg agents held the person of the King, and I checkmatedthem at the last moment by producing Minna and keeping their duke inconfinement, there was a chance that they might counter my stroke bybringing the mad King back on the scene, and thus checkmate me in turn.The only means of preventing this would be to secure that those who heldthe King in custody should be loyal to Minna; and it was for this partof the scheme that I had hoped to make use of the two men, Kummell andBeilager. I set out to find them, therefore.

  I chanced upon them together at the house of Kummell, and it did nottake me a minute to perceive that there was a decided restraint in theirmanner toward me. I had meant to be perfectly frank with them, tellingthem, indeed, all I knew; but their attitude made this impossible, andfor a moment I was at a loss what line to take. While gaining time tothink, I talked at large upon the importance of the affair generally,and at length asked them point-blank why they had not been to Gramberg.

  "We have been very busy," replied Kummell, who spoke for both; and theanswer was rather curtly given.

  "Scarcely a sufficient reason, gentlemen, in an affair of this sort," Ireplied in quite as curt a tone, "nor, I presume, the only one."

  They hesitated, and glanced at one another.

  "I think you must excuse us if we do not answer the question. In pointof fact, I am not yet in a position to do so."

  "I cannot understand you, and, under the circumstances, I must reallypress you very closely to be frank with me," I urged; and, although theystill hesitated and equivocated, I was resolved not to leave without ananswer, and I told them as much.

  "You put us in a very awkward position, indeed, but the fact is we hadintended to make the visit, and had fixed the day, when we were advisednot to do so by Herr Bock."

  "And who is Herr Bock, pray?"

  So utterly unsuspicious was I of any possible mischief that I put a gooddeal of indignation into the question. Yet it was a blunder of thegrossest kind, and the reply astounded me utterly.

  "Herr Bock is your own lawyer, who has been negotiating the sale to meof your late mother's property."

  That confounded property again!

  My four years' training on the stage stood me in good stead now, and Imasked my surprise with a laugh as I exclaimed:

  "Oh, that Bock! I did not know it was you who were contemplating apurchase. But why should that keep you away from Gramberg? Were youafraid that a look at the property would put you out of conceit with thebargain, or that I should charge you more, thinking you were growingeager?"

  But there was more in this than a laugh could carry off.

  "No, but he has been in communication with your old family lawyer, andtogether they say or think they are on the track of some kind of strangecomplication which I believe in some way touches yourself; how I do notknow, but Bock advised me to wait."

  "This has a somewhat serious sound, sir," I said, sternly enough tocover my apprehension.

  "I cannot help that. You asked me, pressed me, indeed, for an answer toyour question. In times like these you will understand I feel great needto be cautious--overcautious perhaps you may deem it. But still here itis."

  "And what is the nature of this supposed ridiculous complication?"

  "You must excuse me if I say no more. You know Herr Bock's address herein Munich."

  The scent was getting warm.

  "I shall of course see him," I answered readily. "And I will find ashort method of dealing with a couple of meddlesome attorneys as soon asthis business of next week is through. And what then do you propose todo?"

  "I think we had better not discuss any matters except in the presence ofBaron Heckscher."

  I rose to leave. I had met with my first serious check.

  "I thought I could have relied implicitly upon your loyalty to the Houseof Gramberg," I said loftily.

  "To the House of Gramberg, yes," was the answer, stolidly spoken, yetwith a significance I could not mistake.

  I went back to my hotel angry and apprehensive. I could have twisted vonFromberg's neck for his maladroitness in hurrying to sell his property,and then getting beyond my reach and keeping there.

  Moreover, I could not see what to do. These two bungling old fools oflawyers had no doubt been comparing notes, and probably comparing thedifferent handwritings of von Fromberg and myself; and had hatched apretty cock-and-bull story about me. Probably they were already makingall sorts of inquiries. Yet I dared not go and face the man Bock. Icould not tell if he had ever seen von Fromberg. If he had, he wouldproclaim me an impostor straight away; and Heaven only knew what theconsequences of such a step would be at such a time.

  On the other hand the two men I had just left were obviously suspiciousof me. Knowing nothing of the double plot, it was as likely as not thatthey viewed me as some kind of spy and traitor, either from the madKing's party or the Ostenburgs; and they would go blabbing theirsuspicions to every one else. And all through that greedy renegade vonFromberg.

  I paced my room like a caged beast, searching every nook and cranny ofmy mind for some device to stop these fools of lawyers. Everything mightbe jeopardized. This pair of blundering meddlers might even now be inCharmes, and face to face with the real man; and the truth might comeflashing over the wires at any moment.

  But all my anger brought me no nearer a s
olution. There was just onechance--that von Fromberg might stay away on his honeymoon long enoughto get us over the business of the next week, and to that fragile reed Imust trust. Certainly I myself must not take the time necessary to go toCharmes, and as certainly there was no one I could trust with thesecret. There was nothing for it, therefore, but to wait, and beresolved to fight when the time came.

  I was in this state of excitement when a servant came and said a ladywished to see me.

  "A lady?" I cried in astonishment. "What is her name? It must be amistake. There can be no one----Stay; show her up," I broke off, for itoccurred to me that after all there might be some one with informationto give or sell; or, perhaps, a messenger from Praga. It would do noharm to see her.

  She came in very closely veiled, and very beautifully, if very showily,dressed.

  "You wish to see me, madam? What is your name?"

  She stood silent until the servant had left the room; and I looked ather with considerable curiosity.

  "So you are the Prince von Gramberg. I trust your Highness is inexcellent health."

  Despite the mocking accent, I could recognize the voice, though I couldnot recall the speaker. It was certainly no one whom I ought to haveknown as the Prince von Gramberg, and I accordingly made ready foranother unpleasant surprise.

  "I am sorry I cannot recall your name. I think I have heard your voice;it is too sweet to forget."

  It is never wrong to flatter a woman.

  My visitor stamped her foot angrily.

  "Yes, you know my voice, and used to like to hear it."

  The little impatient angry gesture told me who she was--Clara Weylin,the actress, who had pestered my life out at Frankfort and had vowed tobe revenged on me for slighting her.

  I wondered what particular strain of ill luck had brought her across mypath at this juncture, and I wished her and her pretty face and sweetvoice at the other end of the earth.

  The coils were indeed drawing closer round me.