While the absent-minded hunter strode down toward the lower town, and
Maurice sipped his cognac, the king lay in his bed in the palace and
aimlessly fingered the counterpane. There was now no beauty in his face.
It was furrowed and pale, and an endless fever burned in the sunken
eyes--eyes like coals, which suddenly flare before they turn to ash.
The archbishop nor the chancellor could see anything in the dim corners
of the royal bed chamber, but he could. It was the mocking finger of
death, and it was leveled at him. Spring had come, and summer and autumn
and winter, and spring again, but he had not wandered through the green
fields, except in dreams, and the byways he loved knew him no more. Ah,
to sit still like a spectator and to see the world pass by! To be a part
of it, and yet not of it! To see the glory of strength and vigor just
beyond one's grasp, the staffs to lean on crumble to the touch, and the
stars of hope fade away one by one from the firmament of one's dreams!
Here was weariness for which there was no remedy.
Day by day time pressed him on toward the inevitable. No human hand
could stay him. He could think, but he could not act. He could move, but
he could not stand nor walk. And that philosophy which had in other days
sustained him was shattered and threadbare. He was dead, yet he lived.
Fate has so many delicate ironies.
He had tried to make his people love him, only to acquire their hate.
He had reduced taxation, only to be scorned. He had made the city
beautiful, only to be cursed. A paralytic, the theme of ribald verse,
the butt of wineroom wits, the object of contumely to his people, his
beneficiaries!
The ingratitude of kings bites not half so deep as the ingratitude of
the people. Tears filled his eyes, and he fumbled his lips. There were
only two bright spots in his futile life. The first was his daughter,
who read to him, who was the first in the morning to greet him and
last at night to leave him. The second was the evening hour when the
archbishop and the chancellor came in to discuss the affairs of state.
“And Prince Frederick has not yet been heard from?” was his first
inquiry.
“No, Sire,” answered the chancellor. “The matter is altogether
mysterious. The police can find no trace of him. He left Carnavia for
Bleiberg; he stopped at Ehrenstein, directed his suite to proceed;
there, all ends. The ambassador from Carnavia approached me to-day. He
scouts the idea of a peasant girl, and hinted at other things.”
“Yes,” said the king, “there is something behind all this. Frederick is
not a youth of peccadilloes. Something has happened to him. But God send
him safe and sound to us, so much depends on him. And Alexia?”
“Says nothing,” the archbishop answered, “a way with her when troubled.”
“And my old friend, Lord Fitzgerald?”
The prelate shook his head sadly. “We have just been made acquainted
with his death. God rest his kindly soul.”
The king sank deeper into his pillows.
“But we shall hear from his son within a few days,” continued the
prelate, taking the king's hand in his own. “My son, cease to worry.
Alexia's future is in good hands. I have confidence that the public debt
will be liquidated on the twentieth.”
“Or renewed,” said the chancellor. “Your Majesty must not forget that
Prince Frederick sacrifices his own private fortune to adjust our
indebtedness. That is the wedding gift which he offers to her Highness.
One way or the other, we have nothing to fear.”
“O!” cried the king, “I had forgotten that magnanimity. His
disappearance is no longer a mystery. He is dead.”
His auditors could not repress the start which this declaration caused
them to make.
“Sire,” said the chancellor, quietly, “princes are not assassinated
these days. Our worry is perhaps all needless. The prince is young, and
sometimes youth flings off the bridle and runs away. But he loves her
Highness, and the Carnavians are not fickle.”
The prelate and the statesman had different ideas in regard to the
peasant girl. To the prelate a woman was an unknown quantity, and he
frowned. The statesman, who had once been young, knew a deal about
woman, and he smiled.
“Sometimes, my friends,” said the king, “I can see beyond the human
glance. I hear the crumbling of walls. But for that lonely child I could
die in peace. The crown I wear is of lead; God hasten the day that lifts
it from my brow.” When the king spoke again, he said: “And that insolent
Von Rumpf is gone at last? I am easier. He should have been sent about
his business ten years ago. What does Madame the duchess say?”
“So little,” answered the chancellor, “that I begin to distrust her
silence. But she is a wise woman, though her years are but five and
twenty, and she will not make any foolish declaration of war which would
only redound to her chagrin.”
“What is the fascination in these crowns of straw?” said the king to the
prelate. “Ah, my father, you strive for the crown to come; and yet your
earnest but misguided efforts placed this earthly one on my head. You
were ambitious for me.”
“Nay,” and the prelate bent his head. “It was self that spoke, worldly
aggrandizement. I wished--God forgive me!--to administer not to the
prince but to the king. I am punished. The crown has broken your life.
It was the passing glory of the world; and I fell.”
“And were not my eyes as dazzled by the crown as yours were by the
robes? Why did we leave the green hills of Osia? What destiny writes,
fate must unfold. And oh, the dreams I had of being great! I am
fifty-eight and you are seventy. And look; I am a broken twig, and you
tower above me like an ancient oak, and as strong.” To the chancellor he
said: “And what is the budget?”
“Sire, it is fairly quiet in the lower town. The native troops have been
paid, and all signs of discontent abated. The duchess can do nothing but
replace von Rumpf. The Marshal is a straw in the wind; von Wallenstein
and Mollendorf, I hold a sword above their necks. Nearly half the
Diet is with us. There has been some strange meddling in the customs.
Englishmen have brought me complaints, through the British legation,
regarding such inspections as were never before heard of in a country
at peace. I consulted the chief inspector and he affirmed the matter.
He was under orders of the minister of police. It appears to me that
a certain Englishman is to be kept out of the country for reasons well
known to us. I have suspended police power over the customs. Ah, Sire,
if you would but agree with Monseigneur to dismiss the cabinet.”
“It is too late,” said the king.
“There is only one flaw,” continued the chancellor. “This flaw is
Colonel Beauvais, chief in command of the cuirassiers, who in authority
stands between the Marshal and General Kronau. I fear him. Why?
Instinct. He is too well informed of my projects for one thing; he
laughs when I suggest in military affairs. Who is he? A Frenchman, if
one may trust to a name; an Austrian, if one may trust from whence he
came, recommended by the premier himself. He entered the cuirassiers as
a Captain. You yourself, Sire, made him what he is--the real military
adviser of the kingdom. But what of his past? No one knows, unless it be
von Wallenstein, his intimate. I, for one, while I may be wrong, trust
only those whose past I know, and even then only at intervals.”
“Colonel Beauvais?” murmured the king. “I am sure that you are unjustly
suspicious. How many times have I leaned on his stout arm! He taught
Alexia a thousand tricks of horse, so that to-day she rides as no other
woman in the kingdom rides. Would that I stood half so straight and
looked at the world half so fearlessly. He is the first soldier in the
kingdom.”
“All men are honest in your Majesty's eyes,” said the archbishop.
“All save the man within me,” replied the king.
At this juncture the king's old valet came in with the evening meal; and
soon after the prelate and the chancellor withdrew from the chamber.
“How long will he live?” asked the latter.
“A year; perhaps only till to-morrow. Ah, had he but listened to me
several years ago, all this would not have come to pass. He would
see nothing; he persisted in dreams. With the death of Josef he was
convinced that his enemies had ceased to be. Had he listened, I should
have dismissed the cabinet, and found enough young blood to answer
my purposes; I should have surrounded him with a mercenary army two
thousand strong; by now he should have stood strongly entrenched.
“They have robbed him, but you and I were permitted to do nothing. Where
is the prosperity of which we formerly boasted? I, too, hear crumbling
walls. Yet, the son of this Englishman, whose strange freak is still
unaccountable, will come at the appointed time; I know the race. He will
renew the loan for another ten years. What a fancy! Lord Fitzgerald was
an eccentric man. Given a purpose, he pursued it to the end, neither
love nor friendship, nor fear swerved him. Do you know that he made
a vow that Duke Josef should never sit on this throne, nor his
descendants? What were five millions to him, if in giving them he
realized the end? The king would never explain the true cause of this
Englishman's folly, but I know that it was based on revenge, the cause
of which also is a mystery. If only the prince were here!”
“He will come; youth will be youth.”
“Perhaps.”
“You have never been young.”
“Not in that particular sense to which you refer,” dryly.
* * * * * *
In the chamber of finance Colonel Beauvais leaned over the desk and
perused the writing on a slip of paper which the minister had given him.
Enough daylight remained to permit the letters to stand out legibly.
When he had done the Colonel tossed back the missive, and the minister
tore it into shreds and dropped them into the waste basket.
“So much for your pains,” said Beauvais. “The spy, who has eaten up ten
thousand crowns, is not worth his salt. He has watched this man Hamilton
for two days, been his guide in the hills, and yet learns nothing. And
the rigor of the customs is a farce.”
“This day,” replied the minister, “the police lost its jurisdiction over
the customs. Complaints have been entered at the British legation, which
forwarded them to the chancellor.”
“O ho!” The Colonel pulled his mustache.
“I warned you against this. The chancellor is a man to be respected,
whatever his beliefs. I warned you and Mollendorf of the police what the
result would be. The chancellor has a hard hand when it falls. He was
always bold; now he is more so since he practically stands alone. In
games of chance one always should play close. You are in a hurry.”
“I have waited six years.”
“And I have waited fourteen.”
“Well, then, I shall pass into the active. I shall watch this Englishman
myself. He is likely to prove the agent. Count, the time for waiting
is gone. If the debt is liquidated or renewed--and there is Prince
Frederick to keep in mind--we shall have played and lost. Disgrace for
you; for me--well, perhaps there is a power behind me too strong.
The chancellor? Pouf! I have no fear of him. But you who laugh at the
archbishop--”
“He is too old.”
“So you say. But he has dreams unknown to us. He has ceased to act;
why? He is waiting for the curtain to rise. Nothing escapes him; he is
letting us go to what end we will, only, if we do not act at once,
to draw us to a sudden halt. Now to this meddling Englishman: we have
offered him a million--five millions for four. He laughs. He is a
millionaire. With characteristic bombast he declares that money has no
charms. For six months, since his father's death, we have hounded him,
in vain. It is something I can not understand. What is Leopold to these
Englishmen that they risk a princely fortune to secure him his throne?
Friendship? Bah, there is none.”
“Not in France nor in Austria. But this man was an Englishman; they
leave legacies of friendship.”
The Colonel walked to the window and looked down into the gardens. He
remained there for a time. Von Wallenstein eyed him curiously. Presently
the soldier returned to his seat.
“We are crossing a chasm; a man stands in our way; as we can not go
around him, we, being the stronger, push him aside. Eh?”
“You would not kill--” began the minister.
“Let us use the French meaning of the word `suppress.' And why not?
Ambition, wherever it goes, leaves a trail of blood. What is a human
life in this game we play? A leaf, a grain of sand.”
“But, since the prince promises to liquidate the debt, what matters it
if the Englishman comes? It is all one and the same.”
“Within twenty, nay, within fifteen days, what may not happen?”
“You are ambitious,” said von Wallenstein, slyly.
“And who is not?”
“Is a Marshal's baton so much, then, above your present position? You
are practically the head of the army.”
“A valiant army!” laughing; “five thousand men. Why, Madame the duchess
has six thousand and three batteries.”
“Her army of six thousand is an expedient; you can raise volunteers to
the amount of ten thousand.”
“To be sure I could; but supposing I did not want to?”
The minister dropped his gaze and began fingering the paper cutter. The
Colonel's real purpose was still an enigma to him. “Come, you have the
confidence of the king, the friendship of her Royal Highness. What do
you gain in serving us? The baton?”
“You embarrass me. Questions? I should not like to lie to you. Batons
were fine things when Louises and Napoleons conferred them. I have
thrown my dice into the common cup; let that be sufficient.”
“A man who comes from a noble house such as you come from--”
“Ah, count, that was never to be referred to. Be content with my brain
and sword. And then, there is the old saying, Give a man an ell, and
look to your rod. We are all either jackals or lions, puppets or men
behind the booth. I am a lion.” He rose, drew his saber half-way from
the scabbard, and sent it slithering back. “In a fortnight we put it
to the touch to win or lose it all, as the poet says. Every man for
himself, and let the strongest win, say I.”
“You are playing two games,” coldly.
“And you? Is it for pure love of Madame the duchess that you risk your
head? Come, as you say; admit that you wish to see my hand without
showing yours. A baton is not much for me, as you have hinted, but it is
all that was promised me. And you, if we win, will still be minister of
finances? What is that maggot I see behind your eyes? Is it not spelled
`chancellor'? But, remember, Madame has friends to take care of in
the event of our success. We can not have all the spoils. To join the
kingdom and the duchy will create new offices, to be sure, but we can
have only part of them. As to games, I shall, out of the kindness in my
heart, tell you that I am not playing two, but three. Guess them if you
can. Next to the chancellorship is the embassy to Vienna, and an embassy
to Paris is to be created. Madame is a superior woman. Who knows?” with
a smile that caused the other to pale.
“You are mad to dream of that.”
“As you say, I come of a noble house,” carelessly.
“You are mad.”
“No, count,” the soldier replied. “I have what Balzac calls a thirst for
a full life in a short space.”
“I would give a deal to read what is going on in that head of yours.”
“Doubtless. But what is to become of our friends the Marshal and
Mollendorf? What will be left for them? Perhaps there will be a chamber
of war, a chamber of the navy. As a naval minister the Marshal would
be nicely placed. There would be no expense of building ships or paying
sailors, which would speak well for the economy of the new government.
The Marshal is old; we shall send him to Servia. At least the office
will pay both his vanity and purse to an extent equal to that of his
present office. By the way, nothing has yet been heard from Prince
Frederick. Ah, these young men, these plump peasant girls!”
Both laughed.
“Till this evening, then;” and the Colonel went from the room.
The minister of finance applied a match to the tapers. He held the
burning match aloft and contemplated the door through which the soldier
had gone. The sting of the incipient flame aroused him.
“What,” he mused aloud, as he arranged the papers on his desk, “is his
third game?”
“It appears to me,” said a voice from the wall behind, “that the same
question arises in both our minds.”
The minister wheeled his chair, his mouth and brows puckered in dismay.
From a secret panel in the wall there stepped forth a tall, thin,
sour-visaged old man of military presence. He calmly sat down in the
chair which Beauvais had vacated.
“I had forgotten all about you, Marshal!” exclaimed the count, smiling
uneasily.
“A statement which I am most ready to believe,” replied old Marshal
Kampf, with a glance which caused the minister yet more uneasiness.
“What impressed me among other things was, `But what is to become of our
friends the Marshal and Mollendorf?' I am Marshal; I am about to risk
all for nothing. Why should I not remain Marshal for the remainder of
my days? It is a pleasant thing to go to Vienna once the year and to
witness the maneuvers, with an honorary position on the emperor's staff.
To be Marshal here is to hold a sinecure, yet it has its compensations.
The uniforms, gray and gold, are handsome; it is an ostrich plume that I
wear in my chapeau de bras; the medals are of gold. My friend, it is the
vanity of old age which forgives not.” And the Marshal, the bitterest
tongue in all Bleiberg, reached over and picked up the cigar which lay
by the inkwells. He lit it at one of the tapers, and sank again into the
chair. “Count, how many games are you playing?”
“My dear Marshal, it was not I who spoke of games. I am playing no game,
save for the legitimate sovereign of this kingdom. I ask for no reward.”
“Disinterested man! The inference is, however, that, since you have not
asked for anything, you have been promised something. Confess it, and
have done.”
“Marshal!”
“Well?”
“Is it possible that you suspect me?” The cold eyes grew colder, and the
thin lips almost disappeared.
“When three men watch each other as do Beauvais, Mollendorf and you, it
is because each suspects the other of treachery. You haven't watched
me because I am old, but because I am old I have been watching
you. Mollendorf aspires to greatness, you have your gaze on the
chancellorship, and curse me if the Colonel isn't looking after my old
shoes! Am I to give up my uniform, my medals and my plume--for nothing?
And who the devil is this man Beauvais, since that is not his name? Is
he a fine bird whose feathers have been plucked?”
The minister did not respond to the question; he began instead to fidget
in his chair.
“When I gave my word to his Highness the duke, it was without
conditions. I asked no favors; I considered it my duty. Let us come to
an understanding. Material comfort is necessary to a man of my age.
Fine phrases and a medal or two more do not count. I am, then, to go to
Servia. You were very kind to hide me in your cabinet.”
“It was to show you that I had no secrets from you,” quickly.
“Let us pass on. Mollendorf is to go to Paris, where he will be a
nonentity, while in his present office he is a power in the land--Devil
take me, but it seems to me that we are all a pack of asses! Our gains
will not be commensurate with our losses. The navy? Well, we'll let that
pass; the Colonel, I see, loves a joke.”
“You forget our patriotism for the true house.”
“Why not give it its true name--self-interest?”
“Marshal, in heaven's name, what has stirred your bile?” The minister
was losing his patience, a bad thing for him to do in the presence of
the old warrior.
“It is something I've been swallowing this past year.” The Marshal
tipped the ash of his cigar into the waste basket.
“Marshal, will you take the word not of the minister, but of the von
Wallenstein, that whatever my reward shall be for my humble services,
yours shall not be less?”
“Thanks, but I have asked for no reward. If I accepted gain for what I
do, I should not be too old to blush.”
“I do not understand.”
“Self-interest blinds us. I have nothing but pity for this king whose
only crime is an archbishop; and I can not accept gain at his expense; I
should blush for shame. Had I my way, he should die in peace. He has
not long to live. The archbishop--well, we can not make kings, they are
born. But there is one thing more: Over all your schemes is the shadow
of Austria.”
“Austria?”
“Yes. The Colonel speaks of a power behind him. Bismarck looks
hungrily toward Schleswig-Holstein. Austria casts amorous eyes at us.
A protectorate? We did not need it. It was forced on us. When Austria
assumed to dictate to us as to who should be king, she also robbed us of
our true independence. Twenty years ago there was no duchy; it was all
one kingdom. Who created this duchy when Albrecht came on the throne?
Austria. Why? If we live we shall read.” He rose, shook his lean legs.
“I have been for the most part neutral. I shall remain neutral. There is
an undercurrent on which you have failed to reckon. Austria, mistress
of the confederation. There are two men whom you must watch. One is the
archbishop.”
“The archbishop?” The minister was surprised that the Marshal should
concur with the Colonel. “And the other?”
“Your friend the Colonel,” starting for the door.
The minister smiled. “Will you not dine with me?” he asked.
“Thanks. But I have the Servian minister on my hands to-night. A propos,
tell the Colonel that I decline Belgrade. I prefer to die at home.” And
he vanished.
Von Wallenstein reviewed the statements of both his visitors.
“I shall watch Monseigneur the archbishop.” Then he added, with a
half-smile: “God save us if the Marshal's sword were half so sharp as
his tongue! It was careless of me to forget that I had shut him up in
the cabinet.”
Meanwhile Beauvais walked slowly toward his quarters, with his saber
caught up under his arm. Once he turned and gazed at the palace, whose
windows began to flash with light.
“Yes, they are puppets and jackals, and I am the lion. For all there
shall serve my ends. I shall win, and when I do--” He laughed silently.
“Well, I am a comely man, and Madame the duchess shall be my wife.”