CHAPTER II. THE COUP D'ETAT OF COUSIN JOSEF

The king, who had been leaning forward, fell back heavily in his seat,

his eyes full wide and his mouth agape. Then, to express his utter

bewilderment, he raised his hands above his head and limply dropped

them.

“Five millions of crowns?” he gasped.

“Yes; what would your Majesty say to such a proposition?” complacently.

“I should say,” answered the king, with a nervous laugh, “that my friend

had lost his senses, completely and totally.”

“The fact is,” the Englishman declared, “they were never keener nor more

lucid than at this present moment.”

“But five millions!”

“Five millions; a bagatelle,” smiling.

“Certainly you can not be serious, and if you were, it is out of the

question. Death of my life! The kingdom would be at my ears. The people

would shout that I was selling out to the English, that I was putting

them into the mill to grind for English sacks.”

“Your Majesty will recollect that the measure authorizing this loan

was rather a peculiar one. Five millions were to be borrowed

indiscriminately, of any man or body of men willing to advance the money

on the securities offered. First come, first served, was not written,

but it was implied. It was this which roused my curiosity, or cupidity,

if you will.”

“I can not recollect that the bill was as you say,” said the king,

frowning.

“I believe you. When the bill came to you, you were not expected to

recollect anything but the royal signature. Have you read half of what

you have signed and made law? No. I am serious. What is it to you or to

the people, who secures this public mortgage, so long as the money

is forthcoming? I desire to purchase at face value the twenty

certificates.”

“As a representative of England?”

The diplomat smiled. The king's political ignorance was well known. “As

a representative of England, Sire, I could not purchase the stubs from

which these certificates are cut. And then, as I remarked, I am an

unfettered agent of self. The interest at two per cent. will be a

fine income on a lump of stagnant money. Even in my own country, where

millionaires are so numerous as to be termed common, I am considered a

rich man. My personal property, aside from my estates, is five times the

amount of the loan. A mere bagatelle, if I may use that pleasantry.”

“Impossible, impossible!” cried the king, starting to his feet, while

a line of worry ran across his forehead. He strode about impatiently

slapping his boots with the riding stick. “It is impossible.”

“Why do you say impossible, Sire?”

“I can not permit you to put in jeopardy a quarter of a million pounds,”

forgetting for the moment that he was powerless.

“Aha!” the diplomat cried briskly. “There is, then, beneath your

weariness and philosophy, a fear?”

“A fear?” With an effort the king smoothed the line from his forehead.

“Why should there be fear?”

“Why indeed, when our cousin Josef--” He stopped and looked toward the

mountains.

“Well?” abruptly.

“I was thinking what a fine coup de maitre it would be for his Highness

to gather in all these pretty slips of parchment given under the hand of

Leopold.”

“Small matter if he should. I should pay him.” The king sat down. “And

it is news to me that Josef can get together five millions.”

“He has friends, rich and powerful friends.”

“No matter, I should pay him.”

“Are you quite sure?”

“What do you mean?”

“The face of the world changes in the course of ten years. Will there be

five millions in your treasury ten years hence?”

“The wealth of my kingdom is not to be questioned,” proudly, “nor its

resources.”

“But in ten years, with the ministers you have?” The Englishman shrugged

doubtfully. “Why have you not formed a new cabinet of younger men?

Why have you retained those of your predecessor, who are your natural

enemies? You have tried and failed.”

The expression of weariness returned to the king's face. He knew that

all this was but a preamble to something of deeper significance. He

anticipated what was forming in the other's mind, but he wished to

avoid a verbal declaration. O, he knew that there was a net of intrigue

enmeshing him, but it was so very fine that he could not pick up the

smallest thread whereby to unravel it. Down in his soul he felt the

shame of the knowledge that he dared not. A dreamer, rushing toward the

precipice, would rather fall dreaming than waken and struggle futilely.

“My friend,” he said, finally, sighing, “proceed. I am all attention.”

“I never doubted your Majesty's perspicacity. You do not know, but you

suspect, what I am about to disclose to you. My hope is that, when I am

done, your Majesty will throw Kant and the rest of your philosophers out

of the window. The people are sullen at the mention of your name,

while they cheer another. There is an astonishing looseness about

your revenues. The reds and the socialists plot for revolution and

a republic, which is a thin disguise for a certain restoration. Your

cousin the duke visits you publicly twice each year. He has been in the

city a week at a time incognito, yet your minister of police seems

to know nothing.” The speaker ceased, and fondled the dahlia in his

button-hole.

The king, noting the action, construed it as the subtle old diplomat

intended he should. “Yes, yes! I am a king only for her sake. Go on.

Tell me all.”

“The archbishop and the chancellor are the only friends you possess.

The Marshal, from personal considerations merely, remains neutral. Your

army, excepting the cuirassiers, are traitors to your house. The wisest

thing you have done was to surround yourself with this mercenary body,

whom you call the royal cuirassiers, only, instead of three hundred, you

should have two thousand. Self-interest will make them true to you.

You might find some means to pay them, for they would be a good buffer

between you and your enemies. The president of the Diet and the members

are passing bills which will eventually undermine you. How long it will

take I can not say. But this last folly, the loan, which you could have

got on without, caps the climax. The duke was in the city last week

unknown to you. Your minister of finance is his intimate. This loan

was a connivance of them all. Why ten years, when it could easily be

liquidated in five? I shall tell you. The duke expects to force you into

bankruptcy within that time, and when the creditor demands and you can

not pay, you will be driven from here in disgrace.

“And where will you go? Certainly not to Osia, since you traded it for

this throne. It was understood, when you assumed the reign, that the

finances of the kingdom would remain unimpeachable. Bankrupt, the

confederation will be forced to disavow you. They will be compelled to

restore the throne to your enemy, who, believe me, is most anxious to

become your creditor.

“This is an independent state,--conditionally. The confederation have

formed themselves into a protectorate. Why? I can only guess. One or

more of them covet these beautiful lands. What are ten years to Josef,

when a crown is the goal? Your revenues are slowly to decline, there

will be internal troubles to eat up what money you have in the treasury.

O, it is a plot so fine, so swiftly conceived, so cunningly devised that

I would I were twenty years younger, to fight it with you! But I am

old. My days for acting are past. I can only advise. He was sure of his

quarry, this Josef whose hair is of many colors. Had you applied to the

money syndicates of Europe, the banks of England, France, Germany, or

Austria, your true sponsor, the result would always be the same: your

ruin. Covertly I warned you not to sign; you laughed and signed. A trap

was there, your own hand opened it. How they must have laughed at

you! If you attempt to repudiate your signature the Diet has power to

overrule you.

“Truly, the shade of Macchiavelli masks in the garb of your cousin. I

admire the man's genius. This is his throne by right of inheritance. I

do not blame him. Only, I wish to save you. If you were alone, why, I

do not say that I should trouble myself, for you yourself would not be

troubled. But I have grown to love that child of yours. It is all for

her. Do you now understand why I make the request? It appears Quixotic?

Not at all. Put my money in jeopardy? Not while the kingdom exists. If

you can not pay back, your kingdom will. Perhaps you ask what is the

difference, whether I or the duke becomes your creditor? This: in ten

years I shall be happy to renew the loan. In ten years, if I am gone,

there will be my son. You wonder why I do this. I repeat it is for your

daughter. And perhaps,” with a dry smile, “it is because I have no love

for Josef.”

“I will defeat him!” cried the king, a fire at last shining in his eyes.

“You will not.”

“I will appeal to the confederation and inform them of the plot.”

“The resource of a child! They would laugh at you for your pains.

For they are too proud of their prowess in statecraft to tolerate

a suspicion that your cousin is a cleverer man than all of them put

together. There remains only one thing for you to do.”

“And what is that?” wearily.

“Accept my friendship at its true value.”

The king made no reply. He set his elbows on the arms of the rustic

seat, interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on them, while his

booted legs slid out before him. His meditation lengthened into several

minutes. The diplomat evinced no sign of impatience.

“Come with me,” said the king, rising quickly. “I will no longer dream.

I will act. Come.”

The diplomat nodded approvingly; and together they marched toward the

palace. The bulldog trotted on behind, his pink tongue lolling out

of his black mouth, a white tusk or two gleaming on each side. The

Lieutenant of the cuirassiers saluted as they passed him, and, when they

had gone some distance, swung in behind. He observed with some concern

that his Majesty was much agitated.

The business of the kingdom, save that performed in the Diet, was

accomplished in the east wing of the palace; the king's apartments,

aside from the state rooms, occupied the west wing. It was to the

business section that the king conducted the diplomat. In the chamber of

finance its minister was found busy at his desk. He glanced up casually,

but gave an ejaculation of surprise when he perceived who his visitors

were.

“O, your Majesty!” he cried, bobbing up and running out his chair.

“Good afternoon, your Excellency,” to the Englishman, adjusting his

gold-rimmed glasses, through which his eyes shone pale and cold.

The diplomat bowed. The little man reminded him of M. Thiers, that

effervescence of soda tinctured with the bitterness of iron. He

understood the distrust which Count von Wallenstein entertained for him,

but he was not distrustful of the count. Distrust implies uncertainty,

and the Englishman was not the least uncertain as to his conception of

this gentleman of finance.

There were few men whom the count could not interpret; one stood before

him. He could not comprehend why England had sent so astute a diplomat

and politician to a third-rate kingdom. Of that which we can not

understand we are suspicious, and the guilty are distrustful. Neither

the minister of police nor his subordinates could fathom the purpose of

this calm, dignified old man with the difficult English name.

“Count,” began the king, pleasantly, “his Excellency here has made a

peculiar request.”

“And what might that be, Sire?”

“He offers to purchase the entire number of certificates issued to-day

for our loan.”

“Five millions of crowns?” The minister's astonishment was so genuine

that in jerking back his head his glasses slipped from his nose and

dangled on the string.

The Englishman bowed again, the wrinkle of a smile on his face.

“I would not believe him serious at first, count,” said the king,

laughing easily, “but he assured me that he is. What can be done about

it?”

“O, your Majesty,” cried the minister, excitedly, “it would not be

politic. And then the measure--”

“Is it possible that I have misconstrued its import?” the diplomat

interposed with a fine air of surprise.

“You are familiar--” began the count, hesitatingly.

“Perfectly; that is, I believe so.”

“But England--”

“Has nothing whatever to do with the matter. Something greater, which

goes by the name of self-interest.”

“Ah,” said the count, his wrinkles relaxing; “then it is on your own

responsibility?”

“Precisely.”

“But five millions of crowns--two hundred and fifty thousand pounds!”

The minister could not compose himself. “This is a vast sum of money. We

expected not an individual, but a syndicate, to accept our securities,

to become debtors to the various banks on the continent. But a personal

affair! Five millions of crowns! The possibilities of your wealth

overwhelm me.”

The Englishman smiled. “I dare say I have more than my share of this

world's goods. I can give you a check for the amount on the bank of

England.”

“Your Majesty's lamented predecessor--”

“Is dead,” said the king gently. He had no desire to hear the minister

recount that ruler's virtues. “Peace to his ashes.”

“Five millions of crowns!” The minister had lost his equipoise in the

face of the Englishman's great riches, of which hitherto he had held

some doubts. Suddenly a vivid thought entered his confused brain. The

paper cutter in his hand trembled. In the breathing space allowed him

he began to calculate rapidly. The king and the diplomat had been in the

garden; something had passed between them. What? The paper cutter slowly

ceased its uneven movements. The count calmly placed it behind the

inkwells. .... The Englishman knew. The glitter of gold gave way to

the thought of the peril. A chasm yawned at his feet. But he was an old

soldier in the game of words and cross-purposes.

“We should be happy to accord you the privilege of becoming the

kingdom's creditor,” he said, smiling at the diplomat, whom nothing had

escaped. “I am afraid, however, that your request has been submitted too

late. At ten o'clock this morning the transfer of the certificates would

have been a simple matter. There are twenty in all; it may not be too

late to secure some of them.” He looked tranquilly from the Englishman

to the king.

The smiling mask fell from the king's face; he felt that he was lost. He

tried to catch his friend's eye, but the diplomat was deeply interested

in the console of the fireplace.

“They seem to be at a premium,” the Englishman said, “which speaks well

for the prosperity of the country. I am sorry to have troubled you.”

“It would have been a pleasure indeed,” replied the count. He stood

secure within his fortress, so secure that he would have liked to laugh.

“It is too bad,” said the king, pulling his thoughts together.

“Your Majesty is giving the matter too much importance,” said the

diplomat. “It was merely a whim. I shall have the pleasure and honor of

presenting my successor this evening.”

The count bent low, while the king nodded absently. He was thinking that

a penful of ink, carelessly trailed over a sheet of paper, had lost him

his throne. He was about to draw the arm of the diplomat through his

own, when his step was arrested by the entrance of a messenger who

presented a letter to the minister of finance.

“With your Majesty's permission,” he said, tearing open the envelope.

As he read the contents, his shoulders sank to their habitual stoop and

benignity once more shone in the place of alertness. “Decidedly, fate is

not with your Excellency to-day. M. Jacobi writes me that four millions

have already been disposed of to M. Everard & Co., English bankers in

the Konigstrasse, who are representing a French firm in this particular

instance. I am very sorry.”

“It is of no moment now,” replied the Englishman indifferently.

The adverb which concluded this declaration caught the keen ear of the

minister, who grew tall again. What would he not have given to read

the subtle brain of his opponent, for opponent he knew him to be! His

intense scrutiny was blocked by a pair of most innocent eyes.

“Well,” said the king impatiently, “let us be gone, my friend. The talk

of money always leaves a copperish taste on my tongue.”

Arm in arm they passed from the chamber. When the door closed behind

them, the minister of finance drew his handkerchief across his brow.

“Everard & Co.,” mused the Englishman aloud. “Was it not indeed a stroke

for your cousin to select them as his agents? You will in truth be

accused of selling out to the English. But there is a coincidence in all

this.”

“I am lost!” said the king.

“On the contrary, you are saved. Everard & Co. are my bankers and

attorneys; in fact, I own an interest in the firm.”

“What is this you tell me?” cried the king.

“Sire, we English have a peculiar trait; it is asking for something

after we have taken it. The human countenance is a fine picture book.

I should like to read that belonging to your cousin Josef, providing I

could read unobserved.”

“My friend!” said the king.

“Say nothing. Here is the bulldog; take him to her Royal Highness with

my compliments. There is no truer friend than an animal of his breed.

He is steadfast in his love, for he makes but few friends; he is a good

companion, for he is undemonstrative; he can read and draw inferences,

and your enemies will be his. I shall bid you good afternoon. God be

with your Majesty.”

“Ah, to lose you now!” said, the king, a heaviness in his heart such as

presentiment brings.

The diplomat turned and went down the grand corridor. The bulldog tugged

at his chain. Animals are gifted with prescience. He knew that his

master had passed forever out of his life. Presently he heard the

voice of the princess calling; and the glamour of royalty encompassed

him,--something a human finds hard to resist, and he was only a dog.

Meanwhile another messenger had entered the chamber of finance and had

gone. On the minister's desk lay a crumpled sheet of paper on which was

written:

“Treason and treachery! It has at this moment been ascertained that,

while pretending to be our agents in securing the consols, M. Everard &

Co. now refuse to deliver them into the custody of Baron von Rumpf, as

agreed, and further, that M. Everard & Co. are bankers and attorneys to

his Excellency the British minister. He must not leave this city with

those consols.”

With his eyes riveted on these words, the minister of finance, huddled

in his chair, had fallen into a profound study.

There were terrible times in the house of Josef that night.

The Puppet Crown · 第 2 / 29 章