*CHAPTER XV*
*THE FOREST OF ZIN*
Hear it not, ye stars!
And thou, pale moon, turn paler at the sound!
--_Young: Night Thoughts_.
It was still daylight when I recovered consciousness. The setting sun
was just dipping below the western horizon, and the cathedral light of
the forest of Zin was slowly changing with lengthening shadows to the
darkness of the coming night. Save for the whir of some heavy bird,
flying to roost or the cry of a number of crows far overhead, there was
no sound.
The gay coloured ribbons of the boar spear, lying among the dead leaves,
brought me back to a slight realization of my position. I abruptly
tried to rise. But, when I attempted to move, the trees began to glide
around like giant feathers in a motionless atmosphere, and I became
aware of an aching head and burning pain in the back. I lay quiet
examining the branches overhead.
A little red squirrel, frightened by my sudden movement, leaped from the
ground near by and clattered up the trunk of the nearest tree, being
careful to put the tree between me and him in his flight. He reappeared
high up among the branches, where he rested ready to run, watching me
curiously. Was that the trunk of a fallen tree or a man? He concluded
that I was an enemy and awoke the echoes with his chattering warning
cry, in which there was something of rage. When I again struggled
weakly to arise, he fell silent, hid behind a crotch and, from his safe
retreat, watched with one little prick ear and one little round eye
cautiously exposed.
This time I managed to get to my knees, although the world swayed before
my eyes. A spring bubbled coolly among the leaves near-by. I dragged
myself to it and, like the rejected soldiers of Joshua, drank with my
nose in the water. Greatly refreshed, I rolled over on my back and
again tried to think. The little watchman in the tree shifted his
position so as to bring his one little eye to bear again. My head was
becoming clearer.
Let me see, what had happened to me? Somebody or something had struck
me on the head. I put my hand to my aching brow and found my hair
matted with dried blood. There was a bad cut just above my forehead.
How had I been so injured? Had the swordsman reached me? The swordsman
with the long black cloak and the Greek cross upon his breast--what had
he done. Ah, yes, I knew. With a rush the whole picture came back.
Solonika had been stolen by the Order of the Cross!
It must have happened only a moment ago. My enemy still fronted me and
might even now be waiting to continue, or rather begin, the fight. I
came to a sudden sitting posture, but the woods were deserted. The
rider had long since made good his escape. My own animal, too, was gone
and I wondered if he could find his way back to Framkor stables and give
warning of my predicament.
But of what use would that be to Solonika, if, as I strongly suspected,
General Palmora and Nicholas were in the plot. True, they might rescue
me from the dangers of the forest, but they would not help me rescue the
Prince.
Not so fast. Perhaps I might be doing my two friends an injustice in
thus accusing them. After all, the men I had seen might be highwaymen.
A highwayman's calling in all Balkan countries, I knew, was an ancient
and an honourable one, because he never robs his own countrymen but
preys upon the inhabitants of border states; also because he is a
well-trained rider and a valuable cavalryman in time of war--which in
this section of eastern Europe is nearly all the time. But, if the
Prince's captors were highwaymen after a rich bounty from the government
for the return of the future king on the eve of the coronation, they
were the most gentlemanly brigands that ever sat astride a horse. The
highwaymen idea was not tenable. Even in Catholic countries, robbers do
not go about with large Greek crosses of gold suspended from their
necks. The words of the General came back to me.
"The oath of the Duke of Marbosa. Only three days are left."
Three days to the coronation, that was it. The oath of Marbosa?
Perhaps the Duke had sworn that Prince Raoul should never be king. Oh,
why had I not paid closer attention to the politics of this infernal
country? I would know then what this meant; I would not be compelled to
guess. Surely politics was behind the kidnapping of the Prince. It was
evident, too, that the movement did not have the active support of my
two friends, although the General and Nicholas might be forced by stress
of circumstances passively to acquiesce. But what did the Order of the
Cross hope to gain thereby? It was possible that they were counting
upon the feeling of resentment which the populace would naturally feel
if the Prince failed to appear at the Cathedral. An insult like that
might go far toward changing the succession at the last moment. If that
were so, the Order of the Cross, or some of its members at least, were
not pleased with the son of the Red Fox as the next ruler. It would
necessarily follow that they had another favourite.
The General was not enthusiastic over the heir of Dhalmatia, but he did
not seem to have an interest in this affair. If my conclusions were
sound, Palmora would have led the men who did it. Evidently they were
not sound. Besides, I had never heard him speak of a possible successor
of the Prince and, if there had been one, I ought to have heard of it.
Whatever was in the wind, I felt much relieved. If, as I suspected, the
Prince was in the hands of the nobles, he had nothing to fear from
personal insult. But I trembled to think of his position if his captors
learned the truth concerning his sex.
Growing darkness warned me that I must think of my own safety. My
position in the wild forest of Zin was fraught with danger. With
returning strength, I gathered up my useless boar spear, my only weapon
of defence and, going forward, examined the ground where I had last seen
the Prince. Here I found the hoof marks of the four horses, galloping
side by side, plainly visible, leading off toward the west. It was an
easy trail to follow. I recalled that the greatest length of the forest
was from the north to the south. If one wished to leave the woods, the
quickest course would be to the east or west.
A strong wind forced its way through the tree tops with a moaning sound.
Its cold blast chilled me as it blew in my face; its voice was like the
voice of a lost soul, wandering forever through the gloom around me.
The sun dipped below the trees. If I would follow after the Princess I
must hurry, for the light would soon be gone. Mile after mile I walked
and ran, keeping my eyes on the ground, bending lower and lower as the
darkness fell. Finally I could see the hoof marks no longer.
How I rebelled against my fate. How I cursed the night, and how it
seemed to answer with its thousand voices, reiterating the one awful
word "Lost." Oh, the wasted hours I had lain unconscious in the woods
while Marbosa's men were carrying their prize farther and farther away.
Crushed and hopeless though I was, I would not give up. There must be
some way to follow the trail even in the dark. But how? How?
I raised my head and looked about. Interminable forest surrounded me on
all sides. Nothing but giant oaks met my limited view on every side.
To my heightened imagination they seemed to stretch their crooked arms
as if to crush me in their bony embrace.
Again the wind went sweeping through the branches and one clear high
voice of the night seemed to say "Behold, I am the way. Follow thou
me." The wind it must have been, but how was it to help me? Then hope
returned for I knew it was a west wind. The trail I longed to follow
had never altered from its western course. The wind came from the same
direction. There was the solution. If I followed the course of the
wind, if I kept it always in my face, I would be able to hold to the
trail even in the dark. I shouted aloud for joy at the discovery.
But my progress was distressingly slow. As I went on and on, it became
so dark that I was forced to come down to a cautious walk, swinging my
boar spear before me, like a blind man on a crowded thoroughfare, to
keep from walking into the trunks of the silent trees.
Often through the night I lay down to rest and once I slept, but each
time I took the trail I held my moistened finger to the breeze to get my
bearings. During one of these enforced rests I built a small fire of
dried leaves and ignited a torch of pine wood to help me on my way.
After a little searching by means of its feeble light, I made out the
fresh marks of the trail on the ground and knew that the west wind held
to its course. My tread was as silent as the animals that glared at my
camp-fire. I frightened them away with a shower of burning embers. My
head ached and my limbs became heavy with a weariness that caused me to
rest longer each time I halted.
Once I struck a match and found that it was only eleven o'clock. I had
been vainly hoping for daylight and the time went so slowly. How far I
had gone I had no means of knowing. But, shortly after I looked at my
watch, the moon, great and round and white, came up and shed its soft
light through the trees. The sight of it brought me up with a shiver.
The moon was in _front_ of me!
A moon rising in the _west_ I knew was an impossibility! If this were
the moon, then by all the laws of nature I must now be facing the east.
The _east_! Was it possible that I had been following the wrong trail?
Had the wind, while I blindly yielded to its invisible touch, been
veering gently to the south and finally to the east? In that case I had
been walking in a half circle and must now be somewhere near my starting
point. All my weary walking had gone for nothing. Solonika and
Marbosa's men were as far away as ever.
My despair overcame me and my knees gave way beneath me. I sank gently
to the ground with a half articulate moan, like a drowning swimmer who
feels his strength deserting him.
What was that I heard? Was my mind leaving me under the fearful strain?
Surely that sound was not the sound of voices? I listened distraught.
There it was again, and this time there was no mistaking it. Close
beside me somewhere men were talking and laughing! Then high above all
I distinguished one voice singing. And I knew that voice. It acted upon
my tired body like the electric waves from a galvanic battery. There
could be no mistake. Through the Forest of Zin, mingling with the tinkle
of a piano, came the voice of Solonika singing the words of Mohacs'
Field.
"Volt nekem egy daru szoru paripam,
De el adta a szegedi kapitany;
Ott sem voltam az aldo mas i vas nal;
No, de sa baj, tobb is veszett Mohacsnal!"
I listened spellbound to the entire verse and heard at the end a chorus
of fifty or more male voices join boisterously in the refrain; "No, de
sa baj, tobb is veszett Mohacsnal!"
There was no doubt about it; I had found her. Thanks to blind chance and
my own perseverance I had stumbled upon the hiding place of the Secret
Order of the Cross. It gave me new life to know that she was so near
me. A few steps further forward, and another of my difficulties was
solved. I found myself under a high stone wall which surrounded the
hunting lodge of the Duke of Marbosa. The round white "moon" that had
filled me with consternation was a circular window set in the end wall
of the lodge. There must be lights in the lower casements, but the only
one I had seen over the high wall was this single rose window.
I walked slowly around the wall, seeking an entrance. After a time I
came to the main gate. It was made of iron grating and afforded a view
of the interior. The lodge was a great stone house, standing in the
middle of a clearing within an enclosure. In the rear were the stables.
Not a soul was within sight and the gate was locked. Close beside it,
however, was a smaller gate which was used as a foot passage. It
yielded readily to my hand, opening inward. Fearing the silent presence
of a guard I moved the door back slowly, and finally gave it a push as
if it were disturbed by the wind. There was no movement. I crept
noiselessly through the opening and closed the door so that my figure
might not be outlined from the house.
Black shadows of men passed to and fro across the lighted windows,
behind closed blinds, like shadowgraphs in a theatre. The singing
continued and I frequently heard Solonika's voice. I crept close to the
house and cautiously tried the front door; it was locked. Searching for
some way to effect an entrance, I skirted the building, keeping close to
the stones, and found a door in the rear. It also was locked. I
examined each window as I passed; they were covered from top to bottom
with heavy wrought-iron screens. The lodge was as tight as a prison
house.
I turned my attention next to the roof. Perhaps there was a means of
entrance in that direction. Close beside the lodge grew a great oak
tree. All its forest neighbours had been cut down when the place was
built. Its wide branches overhung the roof. Even though I failed to
find a trap-door there, I would be safer in the branches than on the
ground in case the Duke had his dogs in the stable. I quietly swung
myself up by means of a low-hanging limb, and drew the telltale spear
after me.
As my head came clear of the coping I saw the roof was somewhat flat and
that a small watch-tower stood in the centre of it. It was composed of
nothing but windows. One branch of the tree, which had threatened to
grow through the tower, had been sawed off close to the windows. The
limb made a natural strong bridge for me, and I could have shouted when
I tried the nearest frame and found it slide quietly up under my hand. I
was soon standing safely on the floor of the tower.
Feeling in the dark with my feet, I discovered a steep uncarpeted
stairway leading down into the house below. The door at the other end
was unlocked. As I opened this door the sound of singing and laughing
came faintly to my ears. The Duke's men were enjoying themselves with
the utmost abandon. Passing down another stairway I came to another
door and found myself in a richly carpeted bed room. The bed was empty.
I struck a match and saw two doors on the same side of the room. One
communicated with another bed room and I tried the other. As I opened
it, the noise of shouting and laughing was suddenly almost deafening.
Heavy fumes of tobacco smoke and hot much-breathed air filled my
nostrils, almost choking me.
I stepped softly out on to a dimly lighted balcony upon which twenty or
thirty bed rooms, similar to the one I had just left, found exit. One
swift step to the railing and I was looking down upon the Duke's men.
The main room of the lodge was a hunter's paradise. All around the
balcony railing over which I leaned hung at regular intervals handsomely
mounted heads of bears, wolves, boars, deer and other animals from the
forest of Zin. At the end of the room where there was no balcony, under
the circular window which had been my "moon," was a mounted lion about
to attack two crouching tigers, trophies of the Duke's expeditions to
India and Africa. Lying at full length on the lion's back, with his
arms loosely around the neck of the animal, was a young trooper fast
asleep.
The head and antlers of a large deer, suspended from the balcony in
front of me, obscured my vision of the centre of the room below. But it
also protected me from any one who might look my way. As I moved
cautiously aside for a better view, I saw a long table spread with a
white cloth, upon which were the remains of a feast. Standing in the
centre of the table among the scattered dishes was the Prince with a
sword upraised in his hand. He was singing at the top of his sweet voice
that seventeenth century profanation "Down among the Dead Men."
The Duke's men, evidently in the "heigh-li heigh-lo" stage of a merry
evening, were giving the Prince their undivided attention. They entered
into the spirit of the song and were doing their best to reproduce the
pose of the picture I had seen in Solonika's summer-house. One of their
number, with his black coat collar turned up, was flattened against a
pillar which supported the balcony. An expression of mock fright was
upon his face. The rest of the ribald jesters were threatening him with
drawn swords. A goodly number were lying on the floor, as if they had
refused the toast and had suffered the consequences. But they were in
excess of the number required for a faithful reproduction of the picture
and I suspected that many of them were there because of the empty
bottles.
As I looked around the room I understood why the Duke of Marbosa had not
stationed guards at his gates to see that the Prince did not escape.
The main door which I had found locked was under the balcony opposite
the wall in which was the circular window. If the Prince attempted to
flee that way, he would have to do it in full view of every one in the
room. Two broad stairways, one on each side of the hall, led up to the
balcony and to the bed rooms beyond. Escape in this direction was
impossible on account of the wrought-iron screens. But I knew if I could
communicate with the Prince, he would be able to leave the lodge with me
in the same manner I had entered it.
Once outside, unless we were tracked with dogs, the forest would hide us
while we made our way back on foot to Dhalmatia. We could travel by
night and hide, like the Babes in the Woods, under a covering of leaves
in the daytime if necessary. I remembered that, while I had heard the
horses pawing in their stalls, no dog barked and the recollection
cheered me. If only I could attract the Prince's attention.
But, even if I did make him see me, how was I to let him know how to
escape? I must write him a note and get it into his hands somehow.
Searching my pockets I found a small piece of paper and a lead pencil.
I rested the paper on the top of the railing and indited my first letter
to Solonika. It read:
"Ninth room on south side; stairway to attic; stairway to watch tower on
roof. Come.
"DALE."
I knew if I permitted the sheet to flutter to the room below, it would
be seen and read by unfriendly eyes. I must have some way of weighting
it so that I could throw it where I willed. I examined every pocket
carefully and went through the search three times but failed to find
anything which would answer the purpose. The only thing I considered
was my penknife. I might roll the note up and slip it beneath one of
the blades. But my better judgment told me it would not do. The noise
of the knife's fall would attract attention.
I was almost in despair when my hand came in contact with the diamond
ring which I wore upon my little finger. It was the very thing. I
could roll the note up into a small wad and insert it in the ring. That
would give it the required bulk and weight, and my message would not be
seen as it flew through the air. Then too the tinkle of a ring upon the
stone pavement would not be heard above all the noise of the revellers.
Quickly I drew the circlet from my finger and fastened the wad of paper
securely within. Then with some impatience I awaited my opportunity.
A loud knocking upon the main entrance created the diversion I craved.
So loud and unexpected was the call from the outside world that the
noise within was instantly stilled and every man arose and drew his
sword. All eyes were turned toward the door but no one moved to open
it. Who could have found the lonely lodge in the forest at this time of
night? Could the Red Fox of Dhalmatia, already apprised of his son's
capture, be here with his retainers seeking vengeance?
One of the men nearest the door shouted a question and a voice outside
replied demanding admission. A busy hum of conversation began to fly
about the hall and the Duke's followers crowded around the door. The
Prince alone remained in his place. He stood apart in the centre of the
room almost directly below me.
Now was the moment to act. I stood upright and leaned far out over the
railing in full view of any who might be watching. Taking careful aim,
I tossed the message toward him. The glistening gold circled gently to
its fall and struck fairly in the centre of the empty cup which he held
upright in his hand. The Prince gave a little cry of astonishment and
looked over the rim of the goblet. The ring, with its note attached,
lay within. Knowing from which direction it must have come, and
realizing that it fell from the hand of a friend, he looked quickly up
into the balcony. Our eyes met.
Solonika recognized me as I leaned out into the light. The smile which
illuminated her face more than recompensed me for the night of terror I
had passed through for her sake. No one else in the room saw the
incident. So far we were safe.
I was just congratulating myself on my cleverness when I heard a bed
room door open close behind me somewhere on the balcony. I dropped to
my knees for shelter and crouched in the dim light. An elderly man
stepped from a front room over the main entrance. Something in his
dignified manner told me that it was the Duke of Marbosa. He had heard
the knocking and had come forth to inquire into the cause.
If he descended by means of the stairway on my side, he could scarcely
fail to discover me. Either stairway was open to him. I lay flat on my
stomach and waited with a beating heart. A fight was useless, for, even
though I escaped, I must leave the Prince behind.
The noise in the room below increased in volume. The visitors without
were impatient at the delay.
*CHAPTER XVI*
*MARBOSA'S HUNTING LODGE--THE FLIGHT*
There was an ancient philosopher
That had read Alexander Ross over
And swore the world, as he could prove,
Was made of fighting and of love.
--_Butler: Hudibras, Part I_.
"Marbosa! Marbosa!" shouted several voices at once. A score of young
men ascended both stairways to summon the Grand Duke. As I glanced
along the carpet I could see the heads of the leaders appear above the
level of the floor and I gave myself up for lost. There was no time now
to hide myself in the nearest bed room without being seen. The danger,
coming so suddenly, found me unprepared. My only chance of safety lay
in remaining quiet. Perhaps in the dim light, if they did not stumble
over me, they might pass by, too occupied with their errand to notice a
recumbent figure on the floor. There was also the chance that they
might mistake me for a tired reveller.
But, just when the tension was at the breaking point, I heard the Duke's
voice. Judging from the sound, for I could not see him, he had stepped
to the edge of the balcony, where the light fell upon his face, for the
men paused on the stairs and stood looking at one particular spot. They
shouted their message across the intervening space and, receiving a
satisfactory reply, turned back, retracing their steps to the common
room. I still heard the Grand Duke talking to some one who had reached
the balcony by the other stairway. I followed the sound and was
overjoyed to find that Marbosa was walking toward his companion and that
the two would descend by the other stair. The danger of my immediate
discovery was over, and I breathed a prayer of thankfulness to the lucky
chance which had protected me.
As the Duke joined his men, I arose to my feet to steal another look
below. The Prince had not moved far from the spot where I last saw him.
The empty goblet was standing on the table and he was busy reading the
note concealed in his hands. Would he understand it and be able to find
a way to reach the watch-tower unnoticed? I watched him read and
re-read my message, and saw him tear the paper to fragments and
carelessly throw them into the fire. Then he glanced at the excited
company to see if he were observed. Finding he was not, he looked
quickly up into my glowing face, nodded his head to signify that all was
clear and smilingly slipped my ring on his finger.
While this episode was going forward, the Duke had reached the front
entrance and given orders to unbar the door. The heavy irons rattled
loudly against the stone floor while the nobles made way for the
visitors to enter. The door was immediately closed with a bang and the
bars reset. Following the Grand Duke, with whom they were earnestly
talking, two men stepped into the light and I could scarcely believe my
eyes when I saw them. They were the General and Nicholas.
What they hoped to accomplish by their visit I could not imagine. But
it was evident that they were regarded in the light of friends. Several
young men slapped Nicholas on the shoulder, greeting him with affection.
The rest gathered around the General and the black-bearded Grand Duke,
and listened with great respect to their conversation.
The General was tired and worn. He was not pleased with the turn of
events and I judged he was not hesitating in expressing his opinion.
The Bharbazonian jargon ran back and forth, for the General had met his
match in the Duke. That distinguished personage was not moved by the
hot words of his fiery friend. He gave as good as he received, and
remained firm in his intention. The argument bade fair to consume the
rest of the night. As soon as Nick saw how it was going, he quietly
disengaged himself from the circle and sought out the Prince. That
brought him close under the balcony where I was hiding and I was pleased
to hear him speak English that the company might not readily understand.
"I am glad to see that no harm has been done Your Highness," he said.
But the Prince pretended to ignore him.
"I wish to assure you, Prince, that the General and I are in no way
responsible for this high-handed affair," he continued.
I felt like hugging him for his good news, but the Prince was not so
generous.
"Your friends," he said pointedly, "were most happy to see you."
Nicholas bowed, accepting the situation.
"The majority must rule," he replied.
"The Grand Duke Marbosa seems to be in command here."
"He has carried out his plan against the wish of the General."
"What does he hope to win thereby? What does he intend to do with me?"
asked the Prince. I listened eagerly so as not to miss a word.
"He hopes to keep you hidden until after the coronation. He feels that
your absence from the Cathedral will be taken as an insult by the
people. Thus would he set public opinion against you."
"To what end? Is there another he would have reign in my stead?"
"Yes, Your Highness. Grand Duke Novgorod."
"Novgorod? Who is he? I have never heard of him before."
"Nor I, either," said Nick; "but Marbosa has been secretly working in
the interest of this man for years. The nobles are with Marbosa to a
man. He seems to be sure of his grounds. From what I can learn this
proposed new ruler is the only living descendant of the royal house of
Bharbazonia which was thought to have been exterminated by the Turks.
Oloff Gregory is only a soldier and your house, as you know, is not
royal. Many influential persons in the kingdom believe that this
Novgorod should be restored to power. Had you not been born he would
have come back to his throne without this revolution which is
threatened."
"Strange," said the Prince, thoughtfully, "my father never knew of the
existence of this man."
"All the old men of the country seem to know it," said Nick.
"He seemed to think that Bharbazonia would be without a king if I did
not continue," as if thinking aloud.
"Dhalmatia knows," said Nick positively. He did not notice the troubled
frown on the Prince's face; neither did he guess, as I did, the feelings
of distrust he was stirring up. Here was an added burden to carry; the
throne by right of heredity belonged to another. The Red Fox, fearful
for his son's peace of mind, had kept this important piece of
information to himself.
"We just left him," said Nick.
"Who, father?"
"Yes. For the first time in his life he visited Framkor Castle and,
almost on his knees, begged the General to tell him what we had done
with you. I never saw a man so moved. He actually wept."
"Poor father."
"He was well-nigh distracted. His visit was the first intimation the
General had that Marbosa had carried out his intention. I imagined that
Dr. Wharton and you had ridden home to Dhalmatia after you became
separated from us at the hunt, and rode home after you. I arrived there
just as the Red Fox came to the door. He became like a crazy man when
we told him we could not help him. I had to forcibly restrain him to
prevent him from doing the General harm. He seemed very much afraid of
me. When he left, alternately pleading with us and cursing at us, we
set out for the lodge, knowing you must be here."
"What will father do? Will he not think of the lodge also?"
"No; he fancies the Order has stolen you. He is more likely to go first
to its headquarters at the Turk's Head Inn. He is in touch with the
underground and said he had been expecting this."
"He did. He refused to permit me to hunt yesterday. Begged me not to
go, when I would not submit. How I wish he had been more frank and told
me why. But he was ever afraid of frightening me."
Yesterday? The Prince referred to the hunt as if it were long past.
Surely he meant to say "to-day." I looked at my watch. The hands
pointed to ten minutes of four. It would soon be growing daylight and
the coronation was now only one day distant. The Prince was right; it
was Wednesday, December 30. The New Year fell on Friday. There was no
time to be lost.
"If the General's arguments with Marbosa prevail, we may take you back
with us," said Nick. "In that case you will not object to spreading the
rumour that you were lost in the Forest of Zin all night. But I have
little hope." He shook his head doubtfully as he listened to the high
voices of the two elders deep in their discussion.
"Can nothing be done?" suggested the Prince.
"There will be the devil to pay in Nischon to-day. Your father will
inform the King and his friends. The entire Alliance party will arm
themselves and take the road. There will be bloodshed and civil war."
"That disaster may be prevented," said the Prince.
"How?"
"If I should escape."
Nick's eager expression of interest altered itself into a smile. He
detected a hint in the Prince's words. I alone caught the meaning.
"Believe me, Your Highness, I can do nothing. I admit that I dislike
this method of fighting, but I cannot be traitor to my comrades. As an
illustrious patriot once said, 'We must hang together now, or we shall
hang separately later.' In fact, sir, if I should see you making off, I
would feel it my duty to stop you though it cost me my life."
"I admire your loyalty," said the Prince. "How does my sister bear up
under this trial?"
"I have not seen her," Nick replied. "But I shall take the liberty of
calling upon her when I return and assure her of your safety."
"Do so. I wish you would."
I found myself smiling at the difficulties which would prevent Nick from
keeping his word. Then I heard my name mentioned.
"What have they done with Dale? I don't see him anywhere."
"They may have killed him," said the Prince, smiling into my eyes over
Nick's shoulder. "I last saw him following me through the trees. He
saw your friends carry me off, for I heard him shout. But they did not
bring him in with me. I infer that he is either dead or lost out there
in the jungle."
"Great heavens!" he exclaimed. "I must find out about this. They would
not harm him, I know. He is only lost. I must make up a party to find
him."
He moved away toward the group.
"Good night," the Prince called after him. "If they ask for me say that
I have retired."
While Nick hurried to the General to tell him of my supposed plight,
Solonika, leisurely and boldly, came up the stairway to my side. She
trailed her hand idly along the railing as she mounted the steps, but I
knew that she was watching for some sign of disapproval from the
company. They heeded her not and in a moment she stood beside me and
placed her hand trustingly in mine.
The time for action had arrived. Neither she nor I spoke a word until
we had ascended the two flights of steps and come to the tower on the
roof. The first blush of the new day was showing itself behind the trees
of the Forest of Zin. The early morning birds were still silent in
their nests. It was dark enough for our purpose.
"Can you do it?" I asked as I crept into the branches and helped her up.
It was a dizzy height over the sloping roof to the ground and I knew
that few girls would dare attempt such a perilous climb.
It seemed easy for Solonika. Unhampered by skirts, she moved quickly
and silently. No matter how rapidly I descended, she was always close
behind urging me forward. Once on the ground, I lifted her tenderly out
of the branches because I wished to avoid the noise she might make
jumping without knowing the distance and--well, because.
The never-ceasing murmur of voices in the lodge room told us that the
Prince had not been missed. We ran swiftly over the grass and had gained
the protection of the wall on our way to the little gate, when the door
of the lodge opened, sending a broad stream of light down the pathway.
By that cruel fate which runs through the lives of all of us when Mother
Nature uses even love to encompass our destruction, we were in danger of
losing our new-found freedom before it was fairly won.
Nicholas, bent on rescuing me from the forest, rushed out of the open
door, followed by a number of Marbosa's men. By that time he must have
learned from the lone horseman of the blow I had received and the
subsequent fall from my horse. As far as his knowledge went, I was
lying dead in the forest; or, if the blow had not killed me, I was
wandering about dazed and bleeding, lost. Although I appreciated his
kindly motive, I would have loved him none the less if he had delayed
one moment longer.
We crouched against the wall fearing to move. While the men, laughing
and talking, rolled around the corner of the lodge in the direction of
the stables, Nicholas stood in the light on the steps, looking so
steadily at me that I thought he must see. But his eyes were not yet
used to the gloom and he was turning something over in his mind. He was
aroused from his deliberations by the bang of the door as it was shut
behind him, the iron bars rattling into place. Following his friends
he, too, disappeared around the lodge corner.
"Quick," I whispered to Solonika, "now is our chance. The little portal
is unlocked."
We slipped quickly through and came face to face with another but far
more agreeable surprise than the last. Before us, tied to a ring in the
wall, were the two horses Nick and the General had ridden. With a body
of men ranging the woods in friendly search, I realized that our escape
on foot in that direction was difficult, if not impossible, but here was
an easy way open to our hand. I suppose Solonika to this day thinks I
planned it. She took our good fortune as a matter of course and was
soon in the saddle. I leaped on the back of the General's big roan and
we were off.
For the first few rods we walked our horses over the leaves. Nick and
his band would naturally take an eastward course, back into the heart of
the forest toward the boar-hunting grounds. We therefore turned toward
the west and placed the lodge between us and the main entrance to
prevent possible discovery when he issued from the gate. I wondered if
he would notice the disappearance of the horses, but concluded that, if
he did, he would imagine a groom had stabled them. At all events, when
he did come forth, he did not stop, for we heard his party noisily
gallop away into the woods.
"One fortunate thing; there will be fewer men to pursue us when they
discover my escape," whispered Solonika.
"Ride," I commanded curtly, "we will talk later."
If she was surprised at my manner, she showed it by driving the spurs
into her horse's flanks, which put her in the lead. It was getting
light enough now for us to see the road, if the half-outlined path we
were following could be termed a road. Solonika never hesitated; she
seemed to know the forest well, for she found a sort of bridlepath
between the trees and kept to it unerringly; whereas, had I been left to
myself, I must have missed the way frequently.
For an hour we rode steadily without speaking, although I would have
given much to have heard her voice again. But, when the sun came up,
driving away, as I fondly imagined, plots and fear of sudden death, I
could no longer resist the temptation. I knew that we were not out of
danger by any means, for the horses were plainly tired, having covered
the journey once that evening. Now I understood why Nick deliberated
upon the steps. He was making up his mind not to use his own horse, but
to take a fresh mount from the Duke's stable. When we emerged at last
from the forest, and found ourselves in a pleasant country road, lined
at intervals with farmers' houses, I signalled to Solonika and drew down
to a walk.
"How far to Dhalmatia?" I panted.
"Thirty miles."
Thirty miles on tired horses! I was aghast. Our only hope now was that
our escape had not been discovered. I recalled that it had taken only
three hours to ride to the hunting grounds, but Solonika explained that
I had walked sixteen miles in the night. If my calculation was correct
the poor beasts we rode would have to cover some eighty miles from
Framkor to the lodge and back.
"And furthermore," she added, "if your friend Nicholas takes the back
track in search of you, he will come out on the Framkor lawns and we may
meet him on the road ahead."
"He will have to pass Dhalmatia to do that," I said.
"Well, he promised to assure my sister of my safety."
She threw back her head and laughed, while I forgot my weariness, my
aching head, my empty stomach, and laughed with her for the pure joy of
laughing. To rest our horses we dismounted, walking hand in hand down
the middle of the dusty road like two school children coming from
school. We stopped occasionally at farmhouses where Solonika begged milk
and bread for me, saying, as she fed me with her own hands, that the
good things of this world were not equally divided, since she had had
too much to eat and I too little.
I told her of America, my own United States, and described it to her as
a land where there were no kings or queens but where every man was a
king and every woman a queen. My description was so glowing that she
promised to visit the States, after she was crowned and grew tired of
being always a man. One day, she said, she would run away incognito,
put on her loved woman's finery, which she could not forsake altogether,
and send me her card from her hotel. Would I have forgotten her by that
time? Would I be pleased to see her?
Ah, would I indeed? As well ask an aquatic fowl if he can navigate in
water. How could I ever forget her? She would always be in my thoughts
waking or sleeping until "the leaves of the Judgment book unfold." She
was pretty, witty and full of airy fancies; a witch of the road, she
interested me with her graceful charm. How was I to know that she
exerted herself and talked so much in order to keep me from remembering
how tired and ill I was? Twice, she said afterward, I would have fallen
had she not held me up in her strong young arms.
But all dreams come to an end, and our awakening was rude enough. The
General's roan, which I was leading with the bridle rein tucked under my
elbow, was the first to give the alarm. He stopped deliberately and
looked behind with a friendly whinny, nearly dragging me over backward.
In plain view over the rise of a hill our pursuers came thundering
along, not a mile in the rear. The tread of their horses shook the
earth. Had we not been so interested in our conversation, we would have
heard them long ago.
"Solonika!" I shouted, but she was already in the saddle, waiting as
usual for me.
"There are only twenty of them," she said. "Your friend Nicholas is not
among them."
"Can you make out the General?"
"No, he is not there. Duke Marbosa is leading."
Only twenty; small comfort in that, for, if our horses could not stand
the strain, unarmed as we were, five would have been too many. But the
long rest seemed to have done them a world of good. Both were carrying
lighter weights than they were accustomed to, and for the next five
miles we increased our lead considerably. It was only momentarily. The
tide slowly turned against us and yard by yard the Duke's men gained,
until it seemed we must fall into their hands almost in sight of home.
Peasants stopped their carts as we galloped past and, after a hasty
glance at the cavalcade blackening the road behind, drove quickly into
the neighbouring fields, regardless of ditches to avoid the trampling
hoofs.
I reeled in the saddle twice for some unknown reason, but, ride as we
would, we could not hold our lead. My poor old roan was dripping with
blood where I drove the spurs into his heaving sides, and his face was
white with the foam that dripped from his mouth.
Solonika kept ever close to my side, reporting the progress of the enemy
and calling out words of encouragement to me and my wavering animal when
her own beast was staggering as well.
"Ride! ride!" she shouted, her voice drowned by the noise behind. "They
can never catch us. We are almost home. Do not lose courage, Dale. Oh,
my brave Dale, do not give up."
Once, when I thought that human strength could stand no more, I looked
around me. Our pursuers were not a hundred yards behind. Their angry
voices came plainly to our ears, ordering us to stop. The Duke of
Marbosa, still far in the lead, was within three horse lengths of the
Prince, eagerly reaching forward to grasp his rein.
"Faster," I cried, turning my stumbling beast in behind so that the Duke
would have to pass me before he reached his quarry.
We turned into a road which I recognized as leading to Dhalmatia. The
castle and safety were only two miles away. Could we hold out? After
the long journey, it seemed such a trivial distance. The Duke's horse
commenced to lap mine. I could see the red eye, the straining neck, the
foam-flecked mouth. I must soon throw my poor animal across his path
and prepare for the terrible shock of collision, if I would save the
Prince.
"Look! Oh, look!" It was a shout from Solonika.
I looked ahead, and there, drawn up in our pathway, completely blocking
the road, was another body of horsemen, more numerous than the pursuing
host. Hope fled out of my finger tips, but by a supreme effort I kept
my seat.
"We are lost!" I cried in despair. These could be none other than
Nick's men and he would have no mercy.
"On! on!" cried the brave girl. "Do not give up!"
I could see the Duke's horse no longer out of the corner of my eye. For
some unaccountable reason he was slackening his pace. What need to ride
so hard when his men headed us? What hope was there in riding on?
"Ride! ride!" still rang in my ears. Solonika had not given up. Yes,
my good girl, I would ride! But to what purpose? Do not give up! Aye,
that was the spirit. But oh, how bitter was this defeat. Blind,
splitting headache, but the deadly ache at the heart was worse.
In sight of home, and yet to fail! God, what suffering! What agony of
soul! Ride! Yes, I would ride into the very mouth of Hell. God pity
the poor brute and the worse brute of a rider who stood in my path. If
their bullets did not find my heart, or the heart of the faithful old
roan, I would strike that mass, that solid mass of men and animals
ahead.
Ride! Aye, Solonika, I was riding like a madman, not thinking or seeing
clearly. Oh, if only I had brought my automatic Colt's revolver along,
some of them would go with me before I was down in the dust beneath
their feet. As it was, only one would remember the impact as long as he
lived, if he did live afterward.
"Stop," I called to her, feeling dimly that there was no need for her to
die among kicking, struggling hoofs.
"Ride!" was all I heard as answer.
She was still beside me. She was not slackening her pace. Our pursuers
seemed far away and the solid phalanx in front deadly near. They
shouted to us. What were they trying to say? It sounded like a cheer.
But why should they not cheer? Had they not trapped us within sight of
safety. Oh, for five minutes more. Had they been only five minutes
later we would have gained the hedge that surrounded the Red Fox's
estate and been able to beat them to the castle.
It was all a horrible dream. Yes, it must be that. Else why did it
seem to me that the ranks in front of us wavered as if to let us
through. Cowards! They dare not face a naked horse and an empty-handed
rider. I held my breath for the shock, but it did not come. Could I be
mistaken? The ranks in front _did_ give way. We were passing between
them. Not a hand was stretched out to detain us. That was surely a
cheer. A cheer of conquerors!
Then came the sound of musketry. Oh, my head; my poor head! It was
blinding me with its aching. But I was not hit. No! no! they were
trying to save me alive for future torture, these Bharbazonians. But my
horse was done. Surely they had riddled him with bullets. He wavered
under me. His noble head went suddenly down between his forelegs. He
had stopped and all my efforts to pull him to his feet were vain. I
felt myself slipping downward as if in a dream. I did not feel that I
struck the hard earth. I did not know that I was rolling in the dust.
"Ride! ride! we will run through them!" I dimly heard myself shout. Was
that my voice, or was another soul crying like a lost, blind thing in
Hell?
"Father, dear darling old father," it seemed to be saying, "is it you?
Yes, I knew it must be you."
Then the noise of battle ceased and I drifted down into the blackness of
the pit and suffered the pain of it.
*CHAPTER XVII*
*BEFORE THE STORM*
Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.
I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
That almost freezes up the heat of life.
--_Shakespeare: Romeo and Juliet_.
By degrees I became conscious that friendly hands were lifting me into
the saddle and holding me there while the journey continued. Even
though I suffered a physical collapse on account of weakness, my brain
refused to die and I knew what was passing. Out of the confusion of
battle and the thud of horses' feet I was aware that somehow Marbosa's
men had been put to flight and that I was on my way to Dhalmatia.
How this miracle had been wrought I knew not, neither did I care. It
was pleasant to know that I was in the hands of the Red Fox's men and
that Solonika had slipped from Marbosa's outstretched hands. When at
last I got a grip on myself, I found that I was in the precious little
summer-house and that Solonika, safe and uninjured, was on her knees
beside me, watching me. Oh, the anxiety in her face, and the happy
smile she gave me when I opened my eyes and reached out my hand.
"You are better," she said, gripping me hard.
The Red Fox, himself, stood over us. He was dividing his attention
between giving me a drink from the brandy bottle he held, and taking one
himself. The nervous old man was also sadly in need of a stimulant.
Tears of joy were running down his cheeks.
During our ride home, Solonika had evidently told him of her capture by
the Duke of Marbosa and our escape. He was profuse in his thanks to me.
But my eyes were for Solonika and I paid little heed to what he said.
"Solonika, Solonika, you are safe," I repeated, as if it were too good
to be true. Knowing her to be safe, I threw caution to the winds.
If the look of intimate understanding that passed between us was not
sufficient to arouse his suspicion, the manner in which I addressed the
Prince left no room for doubt. The Duke lost his graciousness, and
spoke in tones of icy coldness. Thus easily does gratitude take wing.
"He knows?" he demanded, ever mindful in spite of everything that she
was in the dress of the Prince.
"Hush," said Solonika softly, laying a restraining finger upon her lips,
and indicating with a sweep of her hand the group of retainers at the
door. They appeared to be watching the road, but she knew they were
drinking in every word of the conversation. The Duke waved them aside
and shut the door. When he again faced me I saw that the look of rage
had changed to cunning. In my mental vision as I watched him an old
woman fell with a shriek from the top of the battlements and lay mangled
on the rocks below, silent for ever.
"Yes, he knows," admitted Solonika. "He has known for a long time, but
he has kept the secret. He is one of us now, father. I swear that you
have nothing to fear from him."
"Nothing to fear from Palmora's guest and that mysterious Fremsted's
friend? Daughter, have you gone mad?"
"No, father, I have not gone mad," she replied. "I know Dale Wharton.
After what he did for the House of Dhalmatia to-day you should know him
too. Think, for a moment, how many opportunities he has had to play us
false if he so intended. Think, father, how easily he could have
betrayed my sex among all those drunken nobles in Marbosa's lodge. How
they would have gloried in it. But did he do it? No; instead he sent
me his message of escape with this ring."
As she pointed to it she remembered that she had failed to return it.
It fitted the third finger of her left hand perfectly. She tugged to
take it off, but I restrained her.
"Keep it to remember me by," I said feebly. "After the coronation I
expect to leave Bharbazonia for ever."
On the third finger of her right hand was the only other ring she wore
that day. It was in reality three rings welded together on the inside
of the finger. Each ring contained four rubies, four diamonds, and four
sapphires. She slipped this circlet off and placed it gravely upon my
little finger.
"It lacks only the stars to be the flag of your country," she said.
"Think of me and our ride from the forest of Zin whenever you look at
it. And I will think of you."
In the meanwhile the Duke walked to and fro with his hands clenched upon
his breast, in great agitation. If one considers the fact that this old
man had been consumed with one idea for twenty years until it had a
stronger hold upon his affections than even his only child could ever
claim, one can understand his struggle. He must have felt that his
little world was tumbling about his ears. But there could be no doubt
about my loyalty. I had proved that unmistakably. Only one day
remained and then he would see his child upon the throne of his brother.
How long had he waited for that happy day! Call it madness if you will.
All men are somewhat mad who harp for years upon one string. He was
forced to trust me, and he finally accepted the inevitable.
"Again I thank you for what you have done," he brought himself to say,
almost graciously. "In the years to come, you will always keep the
secret?"
"After to-morrow, more than ever," I said. And he was satisfied.
"Father," interrupted Solonika with sudden feeling, "who is the Grand
Duke of Novgorod?"
The old man straightened as if he had received an unexpected blow from
which he needed time to recover. He smiled cunningly at his daughter to
conceal his lack of pleasure.
"The Grand Duke of Novgorod?" he echoed, thinking hard. "Who spoke of
him?"
"Ah," said she, "then there is a royal house in Bharbazonia. Nicholas
Fremsted was right."
"Fremsted, the American?"
"He is not an American. I have done as you wished. I made him speak in
the language. I think he is Bharbazonian."
"As I suspected," murmured the Duke. He resumed his walk thoughtfully,
stopping now and then to exclaim: "Ah, I see! I see! That would
explain it."
But what he saw, or what had been explained, he kept to himself, and
came out of his reverie only when Solonika repeated her former question.
"Oh," said he, "Novgorod? 'Way back in the fifteenth century there was
such a royal house in Bharbazonia. But it has been long since extinct."
"But it is said one of them still lives. The nobles have a plot to
place him upon the throne."
"I know what they hope to do, my daughter. But they will not rob me of
my own. There is no such man alive. I have sent my envoys all over the
world for him, but they cannot find him."
I had the feeling that it would not have been well for the unlucky heir
if the Red Fox had found him, but I may have wronged the old zealot.
"You are speaking the truth, father?" She gripped my hand
unconsciously, and watched him almost breathlessly as he replied:
"Yes, yes, daughter. As far as I am able to learn it is the truth."
"It is bad enough, this deception," she said, "but I do not wish to rob
another of his rights."
"Let me suggest again, Solonika," he replied, "that you leave matters of
state entirely in my hands. You are too soft-hearted. When the House
of Dhalmatia rules in Bharbazonia you will find yourself surrounded by
more serious complications. Always remember you have a father who loves
you and stands ready to lend his aid."
"I must be going now, before my friends return to find me out," I said,
feeling my desire for sleep overcoming me.
As he realized that I must carry his secret back into the presence of
General Palmora, the Duke renewed his suspicions.
"A word before you go, sir," he said. "I am willing to accept you at my
daughter's valuation--I can do no less--and I want to thank you for what
you have done. You must now share for life the burden which we have
borne so long alone. I shall feel that I can trust you with more
assurance if you will swear upon this cross to remember your promise."
It was not a Greek cross that he held before my eyes.
"I have given my word to Her Highness," I said, rising, "but, if it
would give you greater peace of mind, I will swear."
"Swear," he repeated solemnly.
And I did so.
"Thank you," he said. "Now I shall give you safe escort to the gates of
Framkor Castle."
I found, when I arose, that I could walk quite well, much to my
surprise. Solonika insisted that I stay for luncheon, it being near the
noon hour, but I held to my determination. I felt sure that neither the
General nor Nick yet knew of the part I played in the rescue and they
could not know until Marbosa returned to the lodge. In order that the
presence in his stable of the horses we had stolen might not betray me,
I asked the Duke if he would keep them hidden until after I had left the
country. When the old man caught the drift of my thoughts his eyes
twinkled with merriment and he readily consented.
He offered to send his men with me for safety, but I refused for fear I
might be seen on the road. It was only a short walk across the fields,
and, much against Solonika's earnest protestations, I set out on foot
alone. Her father forbade her to ride even to the gates with me. He
had had his lesson and would not permit her again out of his sight.
"Good-bye, my proven friend," was all she said as I held her hand long
at parting. Parting! aye, this we both knew was our final parting. I
would see her again as she rode through the streets of Nischon, but
never again, perhaps, would I speak with her, or hold her hand as I did
at this moment. The palace of the King would swallow her up on the
morrow.
"Good-bye, Your Highness," was all I dared trust myself to utter. But I
know she was reading my inmost thoughts.
"Not 'Your Highness,'" she said, "but always 'Solonika' to you, Dale. I
shall visit that America of yours some day."
She came through the hedge in front of the summer-house with me, her
hand resting upon my shoulder, and my last view of her was the glimpse I
received as I turned at the bend and looked back. There she stood in her
little torn riding breeches, covered with dust and dirt. The picture
will never fade from my memory while life shall last.
When I arrived at the castle, as I expected, neither the General nor
Nick was home. The butler served me with food and I ate with the
abandon of a half-starved dog. Hunger appeased, sleep overtook me in my
chair.
My dreams were not restful. For a time I fought wild boars, my only
weapon being an absurd little toothpick. Fortunately for me the animals
appeared much afraid of my little pike and I chased them over the forest
of Zin with joyful shouts. But my joy turned to sudden rage when an
unseen enemy took me in the rear in its enfolding arms from which there
was no escape. It bore me swiftly to the edge of a terrible precipice,
tore my clothing from me and hurled me violently into space. I fell
down and ever down, my invisible enemy chuckling horribly as if my fall
were a jest. But somehow I never reached the bottom and gradually
ceased to fall. Instead, I floated away peacefully upon a cushion of
down, lying full length upon the restful bosom of the atmosphere in a
dreamless sleep, where only Solonika walked. She held a stilling finger
to her lips; there was an expression in her eyes that is found only in
those of a watchful mother who bids the whole world walk quietly that
her cradled babe be not disturbed.
Once I awoke to find it night and I closed my eyes again. But when next
I opened them sunlight was streaming into the room and Nick's curly
black head was on the pillow beside me. He was watching me intently.
"Happy New Year," he cried quickly with all the pleasure of a schoolboy
who "says it first."
I looked and said nothing. I feared that this would be a most unhappy
new year for me and that none of the succeeding years would be any
happier.
"How do you like the forest of Zin?" he continued gaily.
"'Tis an extensive place," I replied. "Happy New Year to you, Nick."
"Footsore and weary he treads the wild way through," carolled he. "At
least you will have something to tell when you get back to America. I
spent a devil of a night in the forest looking for you."
"Did you?" I asked, innocently enough. "What did they do with the
Prince, those highwaymen?"
"Highwaymen? Humph, do not give yourself any concern about the Prince.
I happen to know that he is in safe hands. They will not harm him;
only, he will be unavoidably detained and not be able to attend the
ceremonies to-day. Do you realize, old pal, that I killed a horse
looking for you and all the time you were sitting in the dining room
peacefully asleep in your chair. Most inconsiderate of you."
"I'm sorry," I said, but I was not.
"How did you get home?"
I told him I had walked a great part of the way, which was true as far
as it went. He said he knew that, from the condition of my shoes and
clothes which he took off when he carried me to bed at three in the
afternoon. Also, he had found my horse wandering in the woods.
"Where's the General?" I asked. It was evident that Nick had not
returned to the lodge and did not know the latest news.
"In his room, I suppose. I heard him come in early last evening. But
like you I needed the sleep. So I guess I did not greet him very
cordially and he went away."
Even as Nick spoke the General, dressed in his finest green uniform,
emblazoned with much gold braid over the shoulders and broad chest,
strode into the room, his long sword dragging over the carpet behind
him.
"Get up, you boys," he commanded; "there isn't much time. Nick, Nick, I
have brought your uniform. It was your father's court dress. I want you
to look your best this day of all days."
"Happy New Year," we both shouted, neither ahead of the other.
"Thank you," he returned gravely.
"Then you succeeded? You have made Marbosa relent? There will be a
coronation?" cried Nick.
"I did not succeed. But there will be a coronation at Nischon to-day,
never fear. But whether it be the Prince of Dhalmatia or--some one else
who is made king, I am not certain. The Prince gave Marbosa quite a
scare shortly after you left the lodge. He escaped."
"Yes, yes?" I cried, eager to hear the end of the tale.
"Hurrah for the Prince. There is good stuff in that lad," cried Nick.
"Tell me all about it."
"There is nothing to tell, except that the rascal made off with my roan
that I wanted to ride in the parade to-day--also with your mare."
"What did he want with two horses? Was there any one with him?"
"No one knows. We had arrived at that stage in the discussion when it
was necessary to have a word with the Prince as to his policy with the
Turkish problem. If he would consent to continue the present cabinet,
and keep his father at home, he had a chance of going free."
"You got that far with Marbosa?"
"Yes; we sent for the lad, but could not find him. Some one said he had
probably retired. We searched all the bed rooms. The Prince was not in
the lodge. It is a great mystery how he escaped. At first the absence
of my horse at the gate did not disturb me. I thought your party had
taken it in their haste--"
"Not I," said Nick; "they were too tired."
"But when the grooms assured us that you had mounted your friends from
the stable and we counted the horses, we knew there was little use
searching around the premises. Marbosa was furious, as you may well
imagine. He swore that he'd kill the Prince when he overtook him.
Marbosa is a man of his word, as we all know. My roan is a good horse,
but he is not equal to eighty miles in a day."
"He was caught then?" said Nick.
"Probably," said the General. "At all events I would not be surprised
if some one else were made king of Bharbazonia to-day."
"Novgorod?" asked Nick.
"Novgorod," said the General, with a look I did not understand. "Now
get dressed, you two, as quickly as possible."
"A pretty stew Marbosa is getting us into," growled Nick, but the
General went away without replying. I longed to tell dear old Nick that
the Duke had failed in his effort to capture the Prince, but I felt that
the time was not yet. Silently I thanked God for our lucky escape from
Marbosa's awful temper. It had been more serious than we thought.
When he finally struggled into it, Nick looked every inch a king himself
in his father's court dress. It was a Grand Duke's uniform, he told me,
of scarlet with green facings. The double-breasted coat reached to the
knees and fitted him splendidly, although to my modest American taste
there was too much gold braid and "ginger-bread" about it. Close-fitting
knee boots with wide fluted tops joined the coat at the knee and almost
hid the tight trousers beneath; they had green stripes down the side. A
military helmet of green with scarlet and gold trimmings, a lengthy
sword that trailed like the General's upon the ground, numerous medals
and insignia of ancient orders pinned upon his breast, made Nicholas of
Framkor look as if he had come into his own.
My own neat-fitting dress suit and silk hat were very republican
compared with Nick's kingly costume, but Nick said it was perfectly
correct to wear it to the coronation; that he had often ridden through
the streets of Berlin so attired at eleven o'clock in the morning to
make a formal call.
"Oh, king," I cried mockingly, "have mercy upon thine humble subject.
Deign to cast one kingly, kindly eye upon his plebeian, tear-stained
countenance, before thou shalt send him to his deserved doom."
"What ho, varlets," he shouted, catching the spirit of the play, "bind
yonder rascal and cast him from the castle wall."
"What," I cried, "hast no pity? Then listen, varlets, while I insult
him who once was my dearest friend. Wouldst know what he looks like?
Wouldst? He looks to me like one of those paper soldiers I used to
shoot spit-balls at in my nursery."
"I do, do I?" shouted Nick. "For that thou diest."
But I refused to die easily, and he chased me all around the room until
his long sword got ignominiously between his legs and sent him face
downward to the floor. The noise brought the General upon us in a rage.
"Stop that, you--children!" he hurled at us. "Will you never grow up?
Come to breakfast."
In the main hall of the castle the General stopped before the great
picture of Nick's father in the scarlet uniform. I was struck with the
likeness. There were the same large dreamy eyes that could become so
terrible when the owner was angry. Except for the snow-white hair and
the other usual signs of age, the man in the picture might be standing
by my side. Every old person in the kingdom who was acquainted with the
elder Fremsted would be sure to recognize Nicholas in that uniform
to-day. The General beamed with happiness. He tarried in front of the
picture after we entered the dining-room and I heard him say:
"I will do the best I can for you this day, old friend. But I shall
also remember my oath."
The sun shone hot and the air was balmy as a spring day when, with Teju
Okio at the wheel, we three friends set out for Nischon and the
coronation. But, instead of beating high with pleasure at the thought of
seeing a bit of barbaric royalty for which I had crossed the ocean, my
heart was heavy in my bosom. Although I had no doubt as to who would be
crowned king that day, knowing Solonika safe, I dreaded the ordeal she
must pass through.
Marbosa would not give up without a struggle and some further attempt
might be made in the interest of this mysterious scion of royalty, who
permitted his friends to fight his battles for him, while he enjoyed
himself elsewhere.
I remembered, too, the sight of Nicholas's face when he spoke of the
sacrilege; the witch of Utrepect haunted me and I was afraid--afraid!
*CHAPTER XVIII*
*THE CORONATION*
Knights, with long retinue of their squires,
In gaudy liveries march and quaint attires;
One laced the helm, another held the lance,
A third a shining buckler did advance.
The courser paw'd the ground with restless feet,
And snorting, foam'd and champ'd the golden bit.
The smiths and armourers on palfreys ride,
Files in their hands and hammers at their side;
And nails for loosen'd spears and thongs for shields provide.
The yeomen guard the streets in seemly bands;
The clowns come crowding on, with cudgels in their hands.
--_Palawan and Arcite_.
Nischon was in holiday attire. Hundreds of blue and gold flags were
suspended across the streets and every house was draped with bunting.
The largest of the flags was fifty feet wide at the top; they were
triangular in shape and came to a point so close to the ground that they
brushed our faces as we passed swiftly under them.
Every shop was closed; the peasantry, not only of Nischon but also from
the surrounding towns and villages, were upon the street dressed in
their best gay colours, waiting for the grand parade, hungering for a
sight of the Prince and the nobles. The parade was all the populace
would see of the ceremonies, for only the nobles of the land, the
personal representatives of the kings and queens of Europe, and the
foreign attaches of the court of Bharbazonia were to be permitted within
the Cathedral.
On the facades of several houses I saw the same emblem of sinister
meaning--a red fez with a dagger run through it, draped in black--and
beneath, the motto which Nick translated from the dialect, "Down with
the Osmanli;" the national hatred for the Turk must protrude itself even
when Bharbazonia tried to be happy.
The two ancient fortresses on the opposite hills fired blank charges
from their heaviest guns and from every noisy street came the sputtering
reply of small arms in the hands of the peasantry. For only the lower
classes were permitted to carry firearms that day. They took keen
delight in displaying these weapons before the nobles, who found equal
pleasure in carrying swords, a privilege denied to peasants.
Although the General took us toward the Palace by the quieter streets,
he was greeted with cheers from all sides. The wave of sound followed
our flight like a wall of water, ready to topple over, but never quite
able to overtake us.
The roadways were full of richly attired nobles on horseback, riding
rapidly toward the Palace where the pageant was to start. There were
hundreds of victorias and open carriages coming and going. Within were
seated beautifully gowned women, some attired in modern Paris gowns and
others in Bharbazonian gaudy finery. Our conveyance played sad havoc
with the equilibrium of these noble dames when horse after horse caught
sight of us and tried to break away from the attending grooms.
The courtly General, forgetful of the use he had made of the machine
during the past three weeks, cursed Teju Okio every time such an
accident was threatened, but the boy, ever smiling, replied:
"Very dam fine."
Although the General made several attempts to get out, his martial
dignity forbade him going on foot and he subsided. Matters were
adjusted to his satisfaction when he caught sight of a gay young colonel
of his regiment and ordered him to bring two horses as quickly as
possible. When they came, the General and Nicholas rode away to the
Palace, ordering Teju Okio to take me to the Cathedral where I might
procure a position near the great door before the crowd of vehicles
blocked the way.
The green grass under the minarets and shining domes of the high church
were black with people. They gathered around the car when we took our
position before the entrance, feeling the hard tires and caressing the
shining paint of the tonneau, making me feel as if I were part of the
parade placed there for their amusement.
Hour after hour crept slowly by and I began to regret that I had not
accepted the General's offer to ride with him, although I should have
felt out of place in the procession and lost the position for the
automobile, which, as it afterward transpired, was of value to me and
made easy that which might have been otherwise impossible.
I amused myself by idly smoking endless cigarettes and buying cakes and
sweets from the street venders. About two o'clock the blare of a
powerful band somewhere near the Palace told me that the procession was
moving at last. In order to give the common people their full share of
the festivities, the pageant wended its way through all the principal
streets of the city, beginning with that part which lay on the opposite
side of the river.
From our elevated position, half-way up the hill on the Cathedral side,
we were able to follow the line of march until it reached the bridge and
began the circuit on our side. Shouting, confetti-throwing and
detonating fireworks marked the progress of the entourage. The forts
high overhead seemed to go mad with joy. It was four o'clock when the
head of the procession turned into the street which led to the Cathedral
grounds.
First came an army of mounted troops--five thousand in number--with
General Palmora riding proudly at their head. This was only the
vanguard intended to clear the way around the entrance. As it came on
it formed into two solid lines of horsemen from the massive doorway of
the Greek Church extending back along the avenue as far as the eye could
reach. The soldiers wheeled their horses, the two lines facing each
other, and backed their animals into the crowd behind, leaving a wide
pathway vacant for the procession. Everything had to move back before
them, but the General saw to it personally that the automobile was
permitted within the enclosure.
I thus had an unobstructed view of the proceedings. The regimental band
again scattered the crowd and took up its position on the plaza before
the Cathedral and the King's Own Guard in scarlet uniforms, which
distinguished them from the General's fighting men in their green cloth,
followed. These red soldiers were about two thousand strong. They lined
up in front of the cavalrymen, thus making a double barricade of horses
around the entrance and lending their brilliant colour to the entrancing
military picture.
Close behind his Guard, riding a quiet black charger covered from head
to foot with a black riding cloth emblazoned with gold so that only his
pointed ears and flashing eyes were exposed, peeping from small
apertures in the head-dress, came old King Gregory. At sight of him the
populace shouted with joy and the legion of mounted men flashed their
thousand swords in the air held at salute.
For all his eighty-two years and flowing white beard, the King was
magnificent. One could readily believe him capable of winning his
encounter thirty years before in front of the Turk's Head Inn. He sat
his horse firmly and carried his head erect, looking neither to the
right nor left. His face was gravely serious. Only when he came
opposite the General did he show that he saw or heard. He acknowledged
Palmora's military salute, dismounted and walked with great dignity up
the Cathedral steps.
Behind him were his Prime Minister and cabinet, followed by the Grand
Dukes of the realm and the nobles. Nicholas in his scarlet uniform was
among them, but he did not notice me. Beside him rode Marbosa. There
was a scowl upon the Duke's face and I knew he had learned that the
Prince had not disappointed the people. He looked none the worse for
his hard ride. Around him I recognized many of the young nobles who had
been with him in the lodge. They were sober now, but the look of
determination on their faces brooded ill for the Prince. Oh, if I only
knew what they intended to do in the Cathedral!
The foreign attaches and representatives of the European potentates came
next. They were headed by a band of long-skirted Cossacks. Riding
before them was a stern gentleman in a brilliant Russian uniform whom I
took to be Grand Duke Alexoff, the personal representative of the Tzar
of all the Russias. Among the crowd of attaches I had no difficulty in
picking out the blond head and red uniform of the Englishman, the court
dress of the Frenchman and the modest dress suit of the American consul.
As each detachment dismounted before the Cathedral, under the admirable
system of the General, their horses were taken to the rear by the
soldiers, so that there was no congestion about the entrance.
The women of the court, and the wives and daughters of the nobles and
foreign dignitaries, followed in their open carriages, and it was upon
these that the populace showered confetti and flowers. At any other
time this fine display of magnificent gowns might have interested me,
but I was anxious to see Solonika. I chafed under the delay occasioned
by the long line of carriages from which the women leisurely disembarked
and ascended the steps with many glances behind at their long trains.
As it happened, Solonika brought up the rear of the procession.
Surrounded by her father's retainers in such number that even Marbosa's
men might hesitate to attack them, she came, mounted on a snow-white,
prancing horse, whose pink muzzle and dainty pricked ears pronounced him
an Arab. Her waving red hair reflected the departing kiss of the setting
sun and her eyes were bright with excitement at the murmur of admiration
which the peasantry could not suppress.
Like the King's horse, her magnificent animal was covered with a similar
riding cloth. Except for the absence of the red cross and shield, she
might have been a Crusader about to set out for the Holy Land, or Sir
Lancelot of King Arthur's time. Nothing but the eyes and ears of her
steed was visible; and the white cloth was stiff with heavy golden
embroidery worked, I thought, by her own hands, during the long years of
waiting. Over her shoulders, fastened with a golden buckle under her
chin, hung a long flowing white cloak similarly embossed; it melted into
the riding cloth and gave the impression that horse and rider had been
carved out of one piece of white marble. White satin knee breeches and
white buckled shoes and silk stockings completed the most magnificent
picture of Solonika my memory treasures.
The Red Fox, in the crimson uniform of a Grand Duke, rode nearest her;
but I knew that the smile of satisfaction on his face concealed his
apprehension of the outcome of the day and the strain under which he was
labouring. For the present there was nothing to fear from Marbosa. The
Red Fox's strong retinue was followed by the entire garrison of Castle
Novgorod of the province of the North, the other half of the army of
Bharbazonia. Governor Hassan led them, and they were fully ten thousand
strong, filling up the entire avenue with horses. General Palmora, I
know, controlled them and, until he joined with Marbosa, the nobles
would be powerless.
The Red Fox had good cause to be uneasy, not so much because of his
secret, but because of the sullen attitude of the peasantry. For, while
they had greeted King Gregory with rapturous applause and cheered the
General and every dignitary in the long line, they were ominously silent
as Solonika passed. Some it is true did attempt a greeting, but they
were promptly put down by rival cries of "Down with the Osmanli." Duke
Marbosa's sympathizers seemed to be everywhere in the crowd. The years
he had spent in educating the people to believe in the Red Fox's Turkish
tendencies were bearing fruit. It was only too plain that, had not the
Prince appeared to-day at the Cathedral, the wily Duke of Marbosa would
have easily had his way in proclaiming his favourite, Prince Novgorod.