"Pardon me," said Scharfenstein. "Captain, Monsieur Carewe, an American tourist, formerly of the United States cavalry. And a pretty shot, too, by the book! It would have gone badly with us but for him."
"My thanks," said the Captain, with a jerky nod. "Max, come, give me the whole story."
And Scharfenstein dropped into a chair and recounted in picturesque diction the adventure; how they had remained by the royal carriage till the nurse, recovering from her faint, had rushed out and told them of the abduction; and the long race on the south sh.o.r.e. While he listened the Captain smoked thoughtfully; and when the story was done, he rose and wagged his head.
"Call it revenge," he said, "if it strikes you in that light. Monsieur Carewe, what is your opinion?"
"It occurs to me," answered Maurice, rubbing the scratch the late Colonel's sword had left on his chin, "it occurs to me that the man played his hand a few days too late."
"Which is to say?"
"Well, I do not call it revenge," Maurice admitted, unwilling to venture any theory.
"No more do I;" and the Captain began drumming on the mantel. "What say, Max; how would the ill.u.s.trious Colonel look with the shadow of a crown on his head? He comes from Austria, who, to my thinking, is cognizant of all he does and has done."
The answer was not spoken. The door, leading to the main palace through the kitchens, opened, and the Marshal, the princess, and the maid of honor came down the steps. The Captain, Max and the surgeon stood at salute. Maurice, however, drew back into the shadows at the side of the grate. The old soldier gazed down at the pale face of the young Lieutenant, and smiled kindly.
"Even the best of soldiers make mistakes," he said; "even the best. No,"
as von Mitter made an attempt to speak. "I've heard all about it, and from a most reliable source," nodding toward the anxious maid of honor. "Colonel," he addressed the Captain, whose eyes started at this appellation, "Colonel, you will report to me in the morning to a.s.sume your new duties. You have been a faithful Captain and a good soldier. I know your value, your name and your antecedents, which till now was more than I knew of your late predecessor. Von Mitter will take upon himself your duties as Captain of the household troop; and you, Scharfenstein, will hereafter take charge of her Royal Highness's carriage, and you may choose whom you will as your comrade."
"I have always tried to do my duty," said von Mitter. He felt a small hand secretly press his.
"And you have always succeeded, Captain," said a voice which made Maurice's foolish heart leap. "See, I am the first to give you your new rank. How you must suffer!"
"G.o.d bless your Royal Highness!" murmured the fellow, at once racked with pain and happiness. "But I am not the one you must thank for this night's work."
The Marshal peered at the silent figure beyond the fireplace. Maurice was compelled to stand forth. "Ah!" said the Marshal.
"Yes," went on von Mitter, "but for him no one knows what the end might have been. And I, thinking him one of the abducting party coming up from the rear, shot at him."
The princess took a step forward, anxiety widening her dark eyes; and the swift glance added to the fever in the recipient's veins.... How beautiful she was, and how far away! He laid his hand on the top of von Mitter's chair.
"Monsieur Carewe," said the Marshal, "seems to have plenty of leisure time on his hands--fortunately for us. You were not hit?"
"O, no," said Maurice, blushing. He had discerned an undercurrent of raillery in the Marshal's tones. "The ball came close to my ear, that was all. It is strange how that fellow got away. I am positive that I hit him."
"We shall find him," said the Marshal, with a look at the newly-appointed Colonel which said: "Your straps hang in the balance."
He rubbed his nose. "Well, is your Royal Highness satisfied that there is no danger?"
"Yes, Marshal; but think, if he should have been killed! Ah, what does it all mean? What had this man against me, who have always been kind to him?"
"We shall, with your Highness's permission," said the Marshal, "leave all questions to the future. Let us return to the archbishop, who is doubtless awaiting the news. Take good care of yourself, Captain.
To-morrow, Colonel; good evening to you, Monsieur Carewe;" and the terse old soldier proceeded to the door and held it open for the women.
"Good night, Messieurs," said her Highness. "I shall not forget. Thanks to you, Captain." One more glance, and she was gone. But this glance blossomed in one heart into a flower of hope.
The Marshal, having closed the door behind the women, returned to the group before the fireplace. They watched him interestedly.
"Colonel," he said, "make no effort to seek Beauvais. As for Kopf, that is different. But Beauvais--"
"To let him go?" exclaimed the Colonel in dismay.
"Aye, to let him go. We do not seek bears with birdshot, and that is all we have. He will leave the country."
"And go to the duchy!"
"So much the better; when the time comes, our case against him will be so much the stronger. Mind you, this is not from sentiment. I have none," glaring around to see if any dared refute this a.s.sertion. "It is policy, and Monseigneur concurs with me."
"But I have sent men after him!" cried the Colonel, in keen disappointment.
"Send men after them to rescind the order."
"And if they should catch him?"
"Let him go; that is my order. The servant will be sufficient for our needs. Monsieur Carewe, I rely on your discretion;" and the Marshal pa.s.sed into the kitchens.
The men looked at each other in silence. A moment later the Colonel dashed from the room, off to the stables.
"Well, I'm off," said Maurice. The desire to tell what he knew was beginning to master him. It was too late now, he saw that. Besides, they might take it into their heads to detain him. He put on his hat. "Good night; and good luck to your leg, Captain."
"Till to-morrow," said von Mitter, who had taken a fancy to the smooth-faced young American, who seemed at home in all places.
"I am going away to-morrow," said Maurice, pressing the Lieutenant's hand. "I shall return in a day or so."
He led his horse to the hotel stables, lit a fresh cigar and promenaded the terrace. "Some day," he mused, "perhaps I'll be able to do something for myself. To-morrow we'll take a look at Fitzgerald's affairs, like the good fairy we are. If the Colonel is there, so much the worse for one or the other of us." He laughed contentedly. "Beauvais took my warning and lit out, or his henchman would never have made a botch of the abduction. It is my opinion that Madame wanted a hostage, for it is impossible to conceive that the man made the attempt on his own responsibility. I shall return to the duchy in a semi-official character as an envoy extraordinary to look into the whereabouts of one Lord Fitzgerald. Devil take me, but I did make a mess of it when I slapped him on the shoulder that night." The princess had not addressed a word to him. Why?
When the princess and her maid of honor had pa.s.sed through the kitchens into the princess's boudoir, the maid suddenly caught her mistress's hand and imprinted a hasty kiss on it, to the latter's surprise and agitation. There was something in that kiss which came nearer to sincere affection than Mademoiselle Bachelier had ever shown before.
"Camille?"
"G.o.d bless your Highness!" whispered the girl, again pressing the cold hand to her lips. What had given rise to this new-born affection she herself could not say, but a sudden wave of pity rushed into her heart. Perhaps it was because she loved and was loved that caused this expansion of heart toward her mistress, who was likely never to love or beget love, who stood so lonely. Tears came into her eyes.
"You are hysterical!" said the princess.
"No; it is because--because--" She stopped and a blush suffused her face and temples.
The princess took the face between her hands and gazed long and earnestly into it. "Have you discovered a belated pity in your heart for me? Or is it because you thought him wounded unto death, and he was not?"
"It is both!" weeping.
The princess put her arms around the maid. "And you weep for happiness?
Let us weep together, then; only--I can not weep for happiness."
To return to the flight of Kopf. As he dashed down the road he heard two reports. At the second he experienced a terrible burning blow under the right shoulder-blade, and immediately his arm became paralyzed.
He coughed. With a supreme effort he managed to recover his balance.
Already his collar-bone had been cracked by a bullet either from von Mitter or from Scharfenstein.
"G.o.d's curse on them all!" he sobbed, pushing his knees into his horse; "G.o.d's curse!" He bit his lips; and when he drew his breath the pain which followed almost robbed him of his senses. Behind him the sound of hoofs came no nearer; he had a chance. He could not look back to see if he gained, however, as his neck was stiffening.