kinship to his friend Paul, who had already entered into conversation
with Her Grace of Schallberg. Carter found a temporary distraction from
his unearned wounds in listening to her cheery prattle and answering her
light queries about the wilderness she imagined his country to be, just
beyond the environs of the municipalities. Their group was constantly
augmented by fresh arrivals, so the conversation grew general, and
Carter had no opportunity except for a chance word now and then with the
woman to whom he had silently yielded his heart. Enthusiastic young
officers, cadets of ancient lineage, boasted hopefully of the efforts
which they would make to restore the fatherland to its place among the
great nations of the world. Even Natalie was soon claimed by an admiring
young hussar glittering in black and gold, and Carter found himself
alone for the nonce. He suddenly remembered a forgotten duty, and the
possibility of its performance was now causing him some perplexity.
"You look troubled, Captain Carter," said Trusia, at his elbow. "Is
there anything we can do?"
He smiled gratefully. "Yes, Highness," he responded eagerly. "I was just
cudgeling my brains for a suitable form in which to present my
request."
"It is----"
"Permission to cable my address in the morning to my New York agent."
"It is granted," she said. "A messenger will leave at seven to-morrow
morning for Vienna. I will have Josef call with him in the morning. I
need scarcely caution you not to refer to the state of affairs here."
"You have my word, Highness," he answered.
"I could ask for no better guaranty," she commented sweetly.
If Carter was distrustful of the emissary she had chosen, he was well
aware that his vague misgivings would find no other reception than
coldness did he even dare to hint at them. He turned to find Sobieska's
look of pseudo-indolence upon him.
"Have I your permission, Highness, to make Captain Carter acquainted
with some of his brother officers?" queried the Minister of Private
Intelligence. She nodded her consent and Carter was led away, but not to
meet any military men. Having found a place sufficiently out of earshot
of the others, the Count motioned the American into a seat, placing
himself opposite him.
"There is nothing like a common object of suspicion, Captain Carter, to
make men friends," he began guardedly. Then probably recognizing that
the man to whom he was speaking would hold his disclosures sacred, he
threw away his diplomatic subterfuges and came frankly to the point.
"I wanted to tell you," he said gravely, "that I have already cabled my
agents in London and Paris to investigate the history of your man
Carrick." The American turned to regard him with a slight frown. Had the
fellow brought him here to tell him they had not been believed at the
afternoon's trial? Sobieska, understanding what was passing in the
other's mind, smiled indulgently.
"Oh, I believed your story, don't fear," he said; "but, in the face of
all things, I have always doubted the sincerity of Josef. I cannot
convince myself that his motives are entirely as disinterested as he has
convinced Her Grace they are. There was something, too, about Carrick's
story of his father's death that awakened my suspicions. That medal for
instance."
"You surely cannot mean----" began Carter, fairly rising from his seat
in his wild surmise.
"Quietly, quietly," cautioned Sobieska, glancing warily back toward the
throng of guests to assure himself that the American's perturbation had
passed unnoted. Having satisfied himself that it had attracted no
attention, he took up the thread where it had been dropped by him.
"I meant nothing more at present than that I want to know everything my
agents can learn. Meanwhile not a word to any one, especially Josef.
Don't trust him in any way, though."
With such an opportunity, Carter naturally told him about his dilemma
concerning the despatches.
"Oh, if they refer to business, I suppose you may let him have them," he
was assured. "He would hardly tamper with private papers. They will be
perfectly safe, especially as he will know that you have already spoken
to Her Grace concerning them. I may be doing him an injustice," he
continued cogitatingly, "but I somehow feel that he is playing a deeper
game in Krovitch than you or I have any idea of at present. Every one
here from Her Highness down almost worships him. Can I count on your
aid?"
"Certainly," replied Carter as they both arose. "I don't like the fellow
either." They sauntered nonchalantly back to the others, baffling
Josef's inquiring eyes.
XIII
A NEW MAJOR OF HUSSARS
Carter admitted that in his present state of mind dawn was no more to be
welcomed than darkness. For hours on end now, he had been fighting
grimly and silently to the end that he might cast out of his heart, for
all time, the love for a woman which had crept in. Sleep had dared not
come within range of that titanic struggle. Worn with the battle which
had witnessed his defeat, he had just completed his cipher message,
when, following a modest knock at the door, Josef entered complacently
with the pent-browed peasant at his heels.
"If monsieur desires to send despatches," said the Hereditary Servitor,
"he can make his arrangements with Johann here. Johann goes at once to
Vienna, via Schallberg. He is trustworthy and discreet. Can I be of
further service to monsieur? No? Then I shall go." Without waiting for
any reply, he closed the door behind him as though upon a nervous
patient.
After giving the messenger minute instructions and a liberal gratuity,
Carter dismissed him and the despatches from his thoughts. Later in the
day he was to be reminded not only of them but of the evil leer
bestowed by Johann at the munificent tip dropped into his horny palm.
From the window of his room Carter watched the stir in the camp. In
response to the first call from the bugles, the men were already
bestirring themselves along the tent-marked company streets; some
industriously polishing belt plates and buttons; some tightening the
laces of their leggings, while still others, ruddy of visage, were
plunging close-cropped heads into buckets of splashing cold water. At
the far end of the street, opposite his window, the over prompt were
already falling in. The sergeants picturesquely marked the points of
rest. The first sergeant was glancing over the bundle of orders he had
drawn from his belt, preparatory to roll call and the routine of the
day.
The world beyond, the world of fields and woods and flowers, looked
fair; the sun had not yet dried the dew, and jaded as he was, Carter
thanked God for all things sweet and pure. Something choked in his
throat. He welcomed the galloping approach of Zulka, who, shortly, drew
up beneath his window. In a flash, the Count read the trouble in the New
Yorker's face, but pretending not to, he touched his hat brim in precise
military salute.
"I've rare tidings for thee, my lord," and he vigorously waved an
oblong paper in a melodramatic manner. "Given under hand and seal, as
your lawyer chaps would say."
"Just as soon as I can get this boot on," answered Carter in a tone he
strove desperately to keep cheerful. Having accomplished his task
without unreasonable delay, he picked up a hat and crop and descended to
the courtyard of the inn where the other was impatiently waiting with
some good tidings he found hard to contain.
"Read that, Cal," he said, as he thrust the papers into his friend's
hands. Carter opened the document to be confronted with an
incomprehensible jumble of letters in Latin,--a language he had promptly
forgotten the day of his graduation,--a lordly seal and, dearest of all,
in an angular feminine hand, in subscription:
"_Trusia, Dei Gratia, Vice Regina._"
He feasted his eyes on the one word that for him blurred all the rest,
"Trusia."
"Trusia" of the marvelous eyes. "Trusia" of the ensnaring hair. "Trusia"
the beloved, the desirable.
"So you haven't forgotten your Latin, after all," Zulka was saying,
leisurely dismounting from his horse.
"But I have," answered Carter. "What does it all mean?"
"Your commission, man. Major of the Royal Hussars. For the present
attached to Her Grace, as Aide. I congratulate you."
"Don't, Paul; not yet. It is going to be all the harder for me."
Zulka nodded his head gravely. "You'd better fight at close range. It is
harder, but quicker."
He noted Calvert's riding costume at a glance and made a sudden resolve.
"Better take a ride, old chap. Get yourself in condition. I'm busy
to-day. Borrow Casimir's horse--he's off for the morning. I think
Natalie will be out on the road this way. She'd appreciate your escort,
I'll wager. We creep a step nearer the city this morning, and as
Division Adjutant I'll have my hands full.
"Here, Casimir," he called to the equerry who was lazily swinging his
feet over the edge of the porch on which he had seated himself, "lend
Major Carter your mount for this morning, can't you?"
"Gladly. Saral is the right sort and I guess bears him no ill will for
yesterday's stampede."
Carter was about to mount when Carrick put in a solemn appearance from
the stables.
"Some one has tackled the automobile with an axe, sir," he announced
ruefully. "The wheels are left, and that's about all of the 'go' part."
Carter turned wrathfully from the horse to follow Carrick back to the
shed where the big car had been housed. With ready sympathy the two
young Krovitzers followed.
"It is dastardly," Paul remarked as he bent over and discovered that not
a particle of the motive mechanism had been left intact.
"Count on me, sir," Casimir volunteered, "to help you ferret out the
rascals. Have you any idea who could have played such a shabby trick?"
While Carter had pretty definite suspicions he was not prepared just
then to announce them.
"The car is done for, certainly," he said gloomily. "No," he said as he
turned indifferently away, "I don't know who did it, and thank you,
Casimir, I don't care to. I don't think I would be justified in killing
a man for breaking up even six thousand dollars' worth of property, but
if I was certain just now who did it I feel I would be strongly tempted
to wring his neck. Au revoir, gentlemen, I am not going to permit this
to spoil my ride." With this and a nod, he returned and, mounting the
horse, cantered out of view along the road to the castle.
The handsome bay pounded steadily ahead. The air was soothing soft with
a thousand scents of forest and hill, of field and farm; kind zephyrs
of morning touched his brow and eased his sorrows, while the sun, from a
bed of pearl-pink clouds, rose slowly before his eyes. Beyond and
alongside of the already striking camp, on the right of the road, the
woods began again, leaving the open fields like an alternate square on
some mammoth checker board. More than one soldier gazed admiringly at
his strong figure as he cantered past, while the sentries, doubtless
under instructions, permitted him to pass unchallenged through the
lines.
When he reached the spot where he had first seen Trusia--the place of
the accident, he checked his horse to indulge in the sensations the
scene awakened. He beheld again the marble beauty of the face; he felt
the wondrous softness of the skin, and once more his heart was entangled
in the meshes of the fragrant hair as the loosened strands blew against
his hot cheek.
Round the bend in the road, as then, he heard approaching hoof beats. He
marveled that his heart should beat so high merely for the advent of
Lady Natalie. In the indulgence of his dream, the suggested thuds
presaged the coming of Trusia. He sat immovably upon his horse in
mid-road, waiting. Every sense was aquiver, every nerve on edge.
A black horse swept into view as it first had in his fancy. It was
ridden by Trusia. Saladin had not forgotten. As his mistress reined him
in, his wide eyes shifted about distrustfully. A quiver ran beneath the
satiny flanks while his slender legs trembled. Carter made no effort to
conceal his surprise, as he lifted his hat in salutation.
"Your Highness," he ejaculated.
"Yes," she laughed. "Why, aren't you disappointed? Lady Natalie is. Her
mother found some unwelcome duty shirked which she insisted should be
properly discharged. I am her apologetic substitute. Besides I wished to
discipline Saladin to this place before he should acquire the habit of
shying at it. There, Beauty," she said patting his arching neck as he
snorted in pure ecstasy of terrified recollections. Calmed by her
caressing voice and the touch of her hand he stretched forth his head to
nozzle the other horse in neighborly fashion.
"Natalie is a sweet girl, Major Carter," she said tentatively, giving
him his full title. "Am I forgiven for coming--in her stead?"
"On condition that Your Highness will do me the honor of riding with
me--in her stead." He smiled his usual frank smile. "Besides," he
pleaded, "it will take me some time to thank you for your kindness in
giving me my brevet. I know it is an honor which many a man of Krovitch
would die to win."
She flushed as she answered him. "It was but a small return for what you
have suffered."
In silent assent to his invitation, she pointed her crop to a path among
the trees, which might easily have escaped the observation of those not
familiar with its existence.
"Right beyond the turn in the road is a bypath. Let us take that. It
goes down into the heart of the wood, to the ancestor of forests. The
trees stand there as if brooding over the lost centuries of their youth.
The moss is as gray as Time himself. The only sounds, save the soughing
sighs of the giant branches, are the chime of the waterfall and the
chirping of birds. I love it," she said with sparkling eyes, "because
those trees seem typical of the undying faith of the land, which for two
centuries has never lost hope and has never ceased working for the day
which will soon crown our efforts. See," she pointed down the aisle of
overhanging branches they were entering, "is it not magnificent?"
Side by side, comrades under the spell of the woodlands, rode Trusia and
Carter, inhaling the fresh morning sifted through the leaves. A vista of
trees arose on either hand, each one seemingly more massive, more aged
than its fellow; some bowed in retrospection, some erect with hope and
looking skyward for the new star in their country's firmament.
A peace begotten of serenity settled on Carter's soul. He turned to look
at the girl beside him. The magic of the place had brought a refreshing
expression of content into her face. He noted the soft turn of her
cheek, the inviting round chin and the steady splendor of the eyes. The
spell of silence was broken then. The wood sprites were routed by a
modern girl. Feeling his eyes upon her, she turned to him, her lips half
parted in a smile.
"Is it not wonderful, all of this?" she said, caressing the leafy
monarchs with a wide-spread gesture. "Do you have such forests in
America, such trees? Oh, I have heard of your California forests, where
roads are cut through the trunk of a single giant without destroying its
life. But it is the spirit of the woodlands, I mean. Do they breathe
traditions?"
"Not to us, Highness. We are not their children. Perhaps the Indian when
he bade them farewell could understand their counsels."
"You were a soldier," she said, as a suggested possibility caught her,
"did you ever fight Indians?" Her eager face was almost as a child's who
begs a story.
"Sorry I can't oblige you," he laughed indulgently. "I engaged only the
prosaic European from Spain."
"You fought in Cuba? Tell me about it."
So much as he modestly might tell, he related to her as they rode on.
They were young, time was cheap and the tale was not uninteresting.
The labored heaving of the horses' shoulders brought them back to their
surroundings. They were leaving the forest to mount a little hill upon
whose side a small hovel stood, which Carter some time in his need was
to bless.
"It's Hans's, the charcoal-burner's," Trusia said with surprise; "we've
ridden ten miles, Major Carter, and scarcely faster than a walk. We must
turn back at once; my household will be filled with alarm. Please come,"
she said earnestly.
Together they turned their horses about, and started the return journey
at a good ground-eating gallop. Mile after mile they canceled, occupied
in the thoughts the ride had awakened. She was silent, in the spell of a
new obsession wrought by this man with his honest voice and stories of
the new, strange land, from which he came. Carter, distressed that
possibly he had caused trouble by his senseless prattle, was dutifully
bent on getting her back to the castle with the least possible delay.
Mentally he was attempting to frame a suitable and fitting apology to
offer her. Several times he cleared his throat, but she seemed so
preoccupied that he maintained silence.
Finally he achieved an explanation.
"I have been trying, Highness, to apologize, but really I can't. You
understand, don't you? I would be a hypocrite to say that I am sorry. I
am not. It must have been the magic of the place to which a year is as a
second quickly passed, so old is the forest."
"Have you been worrying about that all this time, my friend?" she said
with a quick laugh, awakening from her revery. "You remind me of my
duty," she added gently. "I was wool-gathering." She turned to discover
if he had in any measure divined her thoughts. Satisfied that he had
not, she was content to talk of many things which would claim her time.
Their conversation became gradually impersonal and general.
Once he had asked her why she had been so relieved at the answers
concerning the medal the Cockney wore. She hung her head for a moment
answering almost in a whisper, "It was Stovik's medal. I feared Carrick
was the king to whom I am to be married." Carter pursued the matter no
further. To his regret he saw that they were fast approaching the
entrance to the wood.
Bending forward suddenly she looked athwart his horse into the shadows
of bough and bush.
"Did you see him?" she inquired breathlessly.
"Whom? Where?" He pivoted about stupidly.
"Johann, the messenger," she answered, "who should have been in
Schallberg two hours ago. There, he's skulking behind that white oak.
Johann!" she commanded imperiously. Seeing that concealment was no
longer practicable, the fellow sulkily came from his hiding-place and
stood, with sullen countenance, in the path beside them. "Find out what
he is doing here, Major Carter."
The messenger maintained a dogged silence to Carter's inquiries. Fearing
that some treachery was at the root of the matter, the American finally
asked whether the fellow had the despatches given him that morning. With
an evil leer Johann looked up at this, breaking his silence.
"Ja, Herr Major," he replied, "I have them all right, and your hush
money, too." He jingled the coins in his pocket with insolent
significance.
"He's surely drunk, but what does he mean, Major?" asked Trusia in
bewilderment.
"I do not know, Highness," he replied tensely, "but if, as I suspect,
some treason's afoot, I would suggest he be at once taken to the castle
for a formal investigation."
The man guffawed impudently. "You wouldn't dare," he said meaningly to
Carter, "you wouldn't dare let Count Sobieska or Her Grace know what is
in that letter."
Indignant at the suggestion that his message had been read Carter
retorted: "We shall see, my man, for to Count Sobieska you go at once."
"All right," the peasant answered jauntily, with a satisfaction Carter
thought was assumed, "if you are willing, I am. Come along," and with a
leering wink he initiated the return castleward.
XIV
FOUND IN THE COURTYARD OF THE INN
Through the thronged courtyard Johann was led directly to the office of
the Minister of Private Intelligence. Not, however, before Josef had
attempted to communicate with him. This privilege Carter denied.
Nevertheless he was unable to prevent a covert exchange of triumphant
glances between the Hereditary Servitor and the closely watched
messenger. This argued that the two were in league. Josef followed,
unbidden.
As they entered his official sanctum, Sobieska looked up, and, as he
arose, a genuine surprise passed, cloudlike, across his face. He
appreciated at a glance that something unusual had occurred. He bowed
Trusia to a seat, directing a well-defined look of inquiry toward
Carter. The latter merely shrugged his shoulders, implying that it was
not his affair.
Sobieska consulted his watch, which lay on the table beside him, while
he turned sternly to Johann. "Why aren't you in Schallberg?" he
demanded; "you had despatches, as well as a cable to send for Major
Carter."
"I have that cable still, Excellency," he grunted.
"What, you didn't transmit it?"
"No," the man answered boldly. Seeing the volcanic wrath awakening
behind the Minister's sleepy eyes, he hastened to explain.
"I went to his room," he said, pointing fiercely at Carter, "he gave me
a sealed envelope. After I had taken it he handed me a large sum of
money--a fortune to a peasant. He told me to let no one see it but the
telegraph operator at Schallberg."
"That is true," said Carter. "It was a business transaction, a
communication relating to my personal affairs."
"I am an ignorant man," whimpered the messenger, stimulated by a mental
contemplation of his supposed injuries, "but I was made the tool of that
traitor--that spy." His eyes, red from excessive potations, glared with
hatred as he pointed to Carter.
"Be careful, sir," broke in indignant Trusia, "remember the gentleman is
one of our Aides and bears a commission in the royal army. Would you
taste the whip?"
"Better that than the noose he planned for me," sulkily retorted the
peasant.
"You had better be precise," said Sobieska.
"Well, if you will have it, I'll tell you," the man answered.
Emboldened by an encouraging murmur from Josef he continued.
Carter held up his hand. "Wait a moment," he exclaimed as he turned
appealingly to Trusia. "Highness, this may be of greatest interest to
some one not present when Johann, the messenger, was apprehended. It may
also be of secret importance to Krovitch, to Your Highness. Is Josef
necessary here? Surely he can offer neither testimony nor
enlightenment."
Though cautioned to stay within call, Josef was dismissed to his
unrevealed disappointment.
"Now, go ahead, Johann," commanded the Privy Counselor, when the sound
of receding footsteps assured him that Josef was no longer in earshot.
"I never had so much money at one time," continued the messenger,
manifestly ill at ease since the departure of Josef. "I began to wonder
why the stranger had given it to me for so simple a service. When the
dumb man ponders overlong he seeks counsel. That was my case. My friend
and I sat and talked of it and as we talked we drank.
"My friend said that the reason for keeping it secret was the person to
whom it was written. At first I laughed at him. It could mean nothing.
He pushed the brandy toward me and laughed too. I supposed he thought
the same. Then I began to turn it over in my head, and as it seemed
possible it might mean something, I besought him how such a thing could
be. He replied by asking to whom the letter was addressed. I said in a
foreign language,--English I do not understand. He pondered and said it
might be sent by a spy to the Russian police. He added that it might
mean hanging for me; I was afraid it was so, then in my fright I drank
more brandy. My head reeled, but I was less afraid. I laughed once more.
I asked him what he would do. He requested to see the letter. I was
angry. 'Fool,' he said, 'not to open it; just to see the address. That
will tell. No one will know.' I gave it to him. He pushed the brandy to
me as he puzzled over the odd letters. When I looked up from the bottle,
he was staring at me, his eyes big and scared. 'It is as I thought,' he
said, in a whisper one uses near the graveyard at night. I hardly knew
what to do, Excellency, so I wandered in the forest. I fear I was drunk
from the brandy. The rest Her Highness can tell you," and the man wiped
the perspiration from his brow.