Max's surprise may be imagined when, after he had fallen unconscious, he
opened his eyes to find Bertram kneeling beside him.
"Thank God!" said the latter, as soon as he saw that his friend
recognised him. "We had begun to think it was all over with you."
Max endeavoured to speak, but his voice was too weak to utter a word. A
moment later he had closed his eyes once more. Though so near death's
door, he had managed to slip out before that grim portal had actually
closed upon him. The effect of all that he had been through, however,
was not to be shaken off in a day. For a week he hovered between life
and death, devotedly attended by Bertram, who scarcely left his side for
a moment. Needless to say, the curiosity of the trio was painfully
excited to know what had become of Moreas, and how it was that Max had
returned alone. The bullet-wound in his shoulder and the marks upon his
chest, which, by the way, were beginning to heal, only added to their
wonderment. But, anxious as they were to hear the story, Bertram would
not allow him to give them as much as a hint of it until he was strong
enough to do so without fear of injury to himself. Then, for one
never-to-be-forgotten hour, Max spoke. He described all that had
befallen them since they had said farewell to each other; he told them
of the success that had attended their labours on the field, and then
went on to speak of Moreas' treachery, and of the last great discovery
he had made.
"Feeling that it was the only thing to be done, I returned to the camp
and taxed him with it," he continued. "As soon as he knew that he was
discovered, and not only discovered, but that his precious stones had
been found and hidden elsewhere, he was beside himself with rage. For my
own part, I believe it was his intention, in any case, to have shot me
as soon as I should return; be that as it may, however, he certainly
fired at me, and his bullet pierced my shoulder. In return, I shot him
dead. Then, without thought of anything else, save to see the last of
it, I gathered my goods together and fairly bolted from the plain."
"But what about the second bag of diamonds?" cried Rodriguez, and
Pereira echoed the question.
"I left them in the place I had chosen for them," Max replied. "There
let them remain."
"Hear, hear!" said Bertram. "I for one will have nothing to do with
them."
The two Spaniards, however, thought otherwise. If Moreas were dead, and
the two others were willing to forego their share, here was a chance of
a glorious fortune for both of them. Max, however, encouraged by
Bertram, remained obstinate. He was determined that the two men, even
provided they were willing to run the risks attendant on reaching the
plain, should not obtain the stones. They might curse, implore,
threaten, and cajole, but without success.
"There are diamonds there," said Max. "If you are desirous of making
your fortunes, go and search for yourselves; but the stones which cost
Moreas his life, and very nearly cost me mine, shall remain where they
are hidden."
With that decision the two men were compelled to be content, but black
looks and sinister mutterings became the order of the day, and more than
once it was necessary for Bertram to give them very plainly to
understand what course he should adopt in the event of certain
contingencies arising.
"And what are we going to do now?" Bertram inquired of Max, when the
latter had recovered sufficiently to make it possible for them to think
of retracing their steps to civilisation.
"That's more than I can say," Max replied. "Let us get back into the
world first."
Next day they accordingly started on their homeward journey, but for the
first week they were compelled to travel slowly, on account of Max's
still enfeebled condition. Little by little, however, his strength
returned to him, until, by the time they had reached the forest, which
alone separated them from the village at the end of the railway, the
same at which they had purchased the mules, he was almost himself again.
On arrival they installed themselves at the _hospederia_, the same at
which Bertram had announced his recognition of Max as the Crown Prince
of Pannonia, and at which Moreas and the Spaniards had indulged in their
orgie so many months before. What a variety of things had happened since
they had said good-bye to it! Then, they had been setting out on the
expedition, full of hope and confidence; now, they had returned, minus
one of their party, and without the great wealth which they expected to
bring with them. They had, however, the small bag which Max had brought
with him, and this being so, on the morning following their arrival,
Bertram set off for Rio, returning next day with an elderly individual
who weighed, tested, and valued the stones. A price having been agreed
upon between them, the money was paid over and each man received his
share, after which the old gentleman returned to the capital, and all
that was left was for Max and Bertram to decide what their future
movements should be. The two Spaniards had determined to take a holiday,
then they intended purchasing fresh mules with which to make another
attempt to reach the place where the diamonds were hidden. Again and
again they had endeavoured to induce Max to reveal the hiding-place, but
without success. Finding entreaty useless, they attempted to bribe him,
promising him first a quarter and at last half the stones, if he would
supply them with the necessary information. But he was not to be
tempted. Bertram and he had decided that since Moreas had paid for the
stones with his life, they should not be touched. Accordingly, they
departed next day for Rio.
"Have you formed any plans for the future?" inquired Bertram of Max,
when they were alone together.
"None," Max replied, "except that I am determined to leave Brazil as
soon as possible. Have you anything to propose?"
"Not at present," the other replied. "If only there were some fighting
to be had, I should have liked to have tried my hand at soldiering. But
when we left the world was so confoundedly peaceful, and I suppose it is
still. There's one idea that I have at the back of my head, however. I
don't know whether it would commend itself to you?"
"Tell me about it," said Max.
"Well, it concerns the South Sea Islands," said Bertram a little
diffidently. "Ever since I was a youngster I've had a hankering to visit
them. In fact, it was my original intention to do so, and if I hadn't
got stranded in this country, who knows but what I might have been a
king by this time."
"The South Sea Islands?" said Max at once. "I'm inclined to think that's
not by any means a bad idea. And what was it your intention to do there
besides founding a kingdom?"
"I thought of purchasing a schooner and going in for the island trade,"
the other answered. "It must be a jolly life, if all one hears is true.
Sailing continually across blue seas, amongst the loveliest islands man
can imagine, dealing with the pleasantest people on earth----"
"And figuring as the _piece de resistance_ at some native banquet, I
suppose," answered Max with a laugh. "Seriously, I like the idea
immensely. Why shouldn't we try it together? We're both in possession of
a decent sum of money, and if we make our way to Buenos Ayres, and then
across the Andes into Chili, we could easily get a boat from Valparaiso
to Honolulu. We shouldn't find much difficulty in picking up a handy
schooner I expect, and then the firm of Bertram & Mortimer could be
placed on a definite footing. What do you say?"
"It's just the very thing I should enjoy," answered Bertram. "But what
about yourself? Are you as determined as ever not to return to Europe?"
"Every bit as determined," Max replied. "In point of fact, I intend
going a step further. As soon as we get to Rio I shall have a document
drawn up in which I shall renounce, once and for all, any claim I may
have upon the throne. Let my brother take it; he is a far better man in
every way, and though you may think me a fool for saying so, I have felt
for many years positively certain in my own mind that he is decreed by
fate to occupy it."
With that, Max told Bertram the old legend of Michael's cross, and of
the gipsy's prophecy concerning it.
"Do you really mean to say that you believe it?" asked Bertram when he
had finished.
"I certainly do," Max answered, "and you can see for yourself how much
of it has come true. Paul has Michael's cross upon his brow, and he will
sit upon the throne as soon as the Republic shall come to an end. I am
as confident of that as I am of anything. And now let us discuss the
pros and cons of this South Seas business. I am all eagerness to embark
upon it."
They did as he suggested, and for over an hour were busily engaged
working out the details of the scheme. Eventually it was arranged that
they should start for Rio next morning, and find some one there to draw
up the deed of which Max had just spoken, and who could be trusted to
keep his secret, and when it had been despatched to the proper quarter,
make for the capital of the Argentine, and thence across the Andes into
Chili, embarking as soon as a vessel could be found for the islands.
That night Max dreamed of tropical islands lifting their palm-clad heads
out of azure seas, of fast-sailing schooners, and a life that was all
sunshine and excitement. When he woke he was even more keen on the
notion than he had been on the previous day. They caught an early train
for Rio, and towards the middle of the afternoon found themselves once
more in the capital of the Republic. Now what Max had to do was to get
his money out of the bank and to transact his legal business without
Brockford or De Montezma becoming aware of it.
"I will give you my cheque," he said to Bertram, when they had taken up
their abode at a small hotel at the opposite end of the town to that at
which his friends had their offices. "You can cash it while I remain in
the background."
Bertram agreed, and set off upon his errand. On entering the bank he
placed the cheque upon the counter. The cashier picked it up and
examined the signature with a look of surprise upon his face. The
manager happened to be passing at the moment, and when the draft was
shown to him he glanced sharply at Bertram.
"Pardon me," he began, "but might I request the favour of a few moments'
conversation with you while the cashier is counting the money?"
"I shall be very pleased," said Bertram, and when the manager had given
an instruction in an undertone to one of his clerks, he followed him
into his private room. The door having been closed, and when the other
had pushed forward a chair, Bertram inquired what he could do for him.
"I notice that you have presented a draft signed by Mr. Mortimer, who, a
few months since, was employed in the firm of Montezma & Co., of this
city. I also notice that the cheque is dated to-day, a circumstance
which would seem to point to the fact that Mr. Mortimer is in Rio at the
present moment."
"That is quite possible," Bertram returned stiffly. "He may be or he may
not. I don't see how it concerns anyone but himself. I am not aware that
he has done anything to necessitate his keeping out of the way!"
"I am afraid we are playing at cross purposes," said Doubleday. "Pray do
not imagine that I am in any way antagonistic to his Royal----"
Bertram pricked up his ears. So the manager was also aware that Max was
the Crown Prince of Pannonia? He was sorry for that; it might lead to
complications.
"My only desire," the other continued, "for speaking to you about--well,
about Mr. Mortimer, was that, should you know his address, you might be
able to tell him how anxiously his friends have been seeking his
whereabouts. If he would only grant them an interview, they would be so
thankful."
"That, I feel sure, he will not do," said Bertram. "Nothing would induce
him to think of such a thing."
The manager sighed.
"It seems a pity," he went on. "I cannot think why he should be so
wilful."
"Nor I," answered Bertram. "The fact, however, remains that it is his
own business, and he is entitled to conduct it as he pleases." As he
said this he rose.
"I will see if your money is prepared," said the manager, following him.
"Many thanks," returned Bertram, and when he had received it from the
cashier, he left the bank, the manager bidding him good-bye upon the
doorstep. Then, having made sure he was not being followed by anyone
from the bank, he set off as fast as he could go in the direction of the
inn where he and Max had taken up their abode. He was not aware that Mr.
Brockford had been standing on the opposite side of the street waiting
for him to come out, and that as soon as he did so and had started on
his walk, the other followed him, keeping a safe distance behind, but
never for one moment losing sight of him. Reaching the inn, Bertram made
his way to their sitting-room and handed Max the money. He was in the
act of informing him of what had taken place at the bank, when there was
a tap at the door. A moment later it opened, and Brockford stood before
them.
Max sprang to his feet with an exclamation of astonishment.
"Brockford!" he cried, "what on earth does this mean? How did you know I
was here?"
He looked at Bertram as if he thought he must be responsible for the
other's presence.
"You do your friend an injustice if you suspect him," said Brockford.
"He did not know that I was following him. It was Doubleday, the bank
manager, who put me on the trail. He sent word to me that your friend
was at the bank, and when he left I followed him here. Thank God, I have
found you at last. We have searched the country for you. Oh, you foolish
man, why did you run away like that?"
"Because my brother Paul was in Rio looking for me," Max replied simply.
"To have remained here would have been to have fallen into his hands."
"And could you have fallen into kinder hands?"
"That is beside the point," said Max. "It is because of his love for me
that I must keep out of the way. It may sound paradoxical to say so, but
it is the truth."
"Well, you can keep out of the way no longer now," answered Brockford.
"You have returned in the nick of time."
"Returned for what?" Max inquired in astonishment.
"Do you mean to say that you don't know?" asked the other.
"I know nothing," Max replied, with an unmistakable faltering in his
voice. "We have been in the wilds so long that we are ignorant of all
that has happened elsewhere. What is it?"
Bertram noticed that the hand resting on the back of the chair trembled.
"What have you to tell me?" he asked again.
"Is it possible that you are not aware that you are the King of
Pannonia?" continued Brockford in an awed voice.
Max started back with an exclamation of horror.
"King!" he cried in a choking voice. "My God, man! What do you mean? You
don't mean--that--that----"
"I mean that your father is dead, Sire," said Brockford quietly. "He
died three months ago, and your mother followed him six weeks later."
This was more than Max could bear. He dropped into a chair and covered
his face with his hands. For some minutes silence reigned in the room.
Then he rose and, with a face white and haggard as a sere cloth, turned
to Brockford.
"Tell me everything," he said. "I'm stronger now and can bear it."
Thereupon, Brockford, to whom I had written, in case he should hear of
him, gave a complete _resume_ of all that had occurred during his
absence. He informed him of our father's death, just at the time when
there was a possibility of Pannonia becoming a Monarchy once more. He
told him of our mother's end such a short time afterwards; of the
gradual crumbling away of the Republic, and of the war with Mandravia to
which it had given rise. He revealed to him the fact that being unable
to find Max, search how I would, and seeing that there was no time to
lose, I had sprung into the breach, and, supported by the Count von
Marquart, now a very old man, but as keen and self-assertive as of yore,
and the majority of the nobles, had seized the throne and declared
myself Regent in his stead. Max's face, so Brockford has since told me,
when he heard the news, was almost transformed.
"I have heard a great deal during my life," said the latter, "of what is
called kingly dignity. I never realised what it was, however, until I
looked at his. At that moment he was every inch a king."
"Father and mother dead," he said, "and my country in danger. There is
no doubt now; no doubt at all."
The others did not understand what he meant at the time, but they have
learnt since.
"My friends," he began in a softer voice than he had yet used, "my kind
friends, you see how this news has affected me. Will you give me time to
think it over?"
They were about to withdraw in order to leave him alone with his
thoughts.
"Will your Majesty believe that all I have is at your Majesty's
disposal?" said Brockford, in an undertone before he left.
Max started as if he had been stung.
"No, no!" he cried, "you must not call me that."
An hour later he was back at Brockford's house at Paqueta, where for
some hours he shut himself up and would see nobody. He was fighting the
greatest battle of his life. During the afternoon he called for all the
newspapers that could be procured, in order that he might study the war
from its commencement. Later on he left his room and found the other two
men in the garden. Traces of the struggle he had passed through still
lingered on his face as he greeted them. It was plainly seen that he had
arrived at a decision.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I ask you to give me your words of honour, that
what I am about to say shall never pass your lips."
He waited for them to speak. They looked first at each other and then at
him. At last they gave him their assurance that his wish should be
respected.
"I have fought it out by myself," he said, "and have come to a
conclusion. I shall return to Pannonia at once!"
"God bless you!" muttered Brockford, but not so low that Max could not
hear it.
"My country is at war, and if she is to be victorious, every son who has
the strength to wield a sword should rally to her assistance. It is my
intention to go back and offer my services, not in the capacity of her
king, but taking my place beside the humblest in the ranks. I place my
life in the hands of God, and leave the issue with Him. If Pannonia is
victorious, then I shall have proved my love for her, and it is possible
that what you wish may some day come to pass. If not, then I shall have
done what I shall always believe to have been my duty."
"In that case, I have a request to make," said Bertram nervously.
"What is it?" Max inquired. "It would be hard if I could not grant it,
seeing that I already owe you a debt I never can repay."
"It is that, if you are going, you will allow me to accompany you?"
"You shall do so if you wish," said Max quietly, and as he said it he
held out his hand, which the other took.
Two days later Max and Bertram sailed for Europe.