Like most members of the kingly caste, Karl XXII. was a big eater and
an early riser. On the morning following Trafford's adventures in
the slums of Weidenbruck, the genial monarch was breakfasting on
innumerable fried eggs and abundant grilled ham at the early hour of
seven. He was dressed in high, white leggings, stout boots, and a
dark brown woollen jersey; and the reason of his athletic attire was
a suggested ski-ing expedition in the neighbourhood of Nussheim,--a
small village some ten miles distant from the capital. His Majesty
was breakfasting alone save for his faithful major-domo, Herr Bomcke,
an old gentleman of great dignity and superb whiskers. Bomcke moved
noiselessly about the room, with one eye on his royal master's needs,
and the other on the doorway, which was guarded by a young officer in
a snow-white uniform and glistening steel cuirass. The apartment
itself was the moderate-sized chamber where Karl was wont to conduct
his private affairs. In one corner stood a satinwood bureau strewn
thick with papers; in another a marble bust of his father on a
malachite pedestal. Two entire sides of the room were devoted to
book-shelves, which contained such diverse treasures as
fifteenth-century bestiaries, "Alice in Wonderland," "Moltke's
History of the Franco-Prussian War," and the Badminton volume on
"Winter Sports." The whole of the apartment had a mellow golden
tinge, a soft atmosphere of affluent homeliness and regal
respectability.
Just as his Majesty was consuming his fourth roll and honey, there
was a whispering in the doorway and Saunders' name was announced in
the mellifluous tones of the major-domo.
"Good-morning," began the King. "You are ready for our expedition, I
perceive."
"My family motto is _semper paratus_--always ready," replied Saunders
lightly. "But I understand our train does not start for Nussheim
till 8 A.M. I came early because I wished to talk over a delicate
situation with you."
"Talk away," said the King, attacking another roll, and draining his
coffee cup.
"The Princess Gloria is in Weidenbruck."
Karl nodded thoughtfully.
"And her address?" he asked.
"I don't know. I did not want to know, so I refused to see her home
last night."
Again the King nodded. He understood his friend's position perfectly.
"The Princess Gloria----" he began, producing an enormous meerschaum
pipe, and proceeding to stuff it with some dark tobacco.
"Is being very closely watched," said a voice from the doorway. It
was General Meyer, who had entered unannounced, as was his privilege.
"And how about Father Bernhardt?" grunted the King, puffing at his
pipe without looking up. "He has been closely watched for some time."
"It was about him that I came to speak," said the General, walking
into the middle of the room.
"You have taken him, of course," said the King. "I told you to
employ four men."
"I followed your Majesty's advice," said Meyer. "I was wrong. I
should have followed Herr Saunders'. He advised, if I remember
rightly, a battalion of Guards and a squadron of Dragoons."
"Do you mean to say," demanded the King, with some warmth, "that four
armed men were incapable of dealing with one priest?"
"So it appears," returned Meyer calmly. "They say there was some
sort of a rescue. That, of course, may be a lie to excuse their
failure. Any way, one of them is suffering from a broken thigh, the
result of a fall from a window. Another has a dislocated jaw. Two
others,--who pursued our friend down the Sichelgasse--were foolish
enough to follow him along the banks of the Niederkessel.
Fortunately they could both swim."
The King turned with a gesture of impatient weariness to Saunders.
"What do you say?" he demanded.
"Yes, what do you say?" said Meyer, putting up his eyeglass and
fixing his glance on the Englishman.
Saunders shrugged his shoulders.
"Oh, I say, that there evidently must have been some sort of a
rescue."
"A most determined rescue," added Meyer.
"A most determined and reckless rescue," affirmed Saunders, meeting
Meyer's glance without flinching.
"But your advice, Saunders," said the King.
"I gave it you yesterday, sire. Act! Hitherto we have schemed. We
have been patting the mad dog on the head, but as he still shows his
teeth,--shoot him!"
"Who is the 'him'?" demanded Meyer. "The sort of person who rescues
rebels when they are being arrested?"
"By mad dog," explained Saunders, "I meant the snarling,
discontented, dangerous element in Weidenbruck. We have had plenty
of clever schemes for pacification. What we want is a little stupid
brutality."
"Saunders is right," said the King. "In theory I am a Democrat, a
Socialist, a believer in the divinity of the _vox populi_. In
practice I am a believer in platoon firing and _lettres de cachet_.
There are only two nations in Europe who are genuinely capable of
self-government, and Grimland is not one of them. We have tried the
velvet glove, and we must show that it contains a hand of steel, and
not a palsied member."
"So be it," said Meyer, with a slight inclination of his head. "We
will give the policy of open repression a trial, a fair trial and a
full trial, and may the God of Jews and Gentiles teach the loyalists
to shoot straight."
Saunders scanned Meyer's face critically. There was no colour in his
sunken cheek, no fire in his heavy eye. The man had no stomach for
fighting, and his complex nature abhorred straightforward measures.
Yet he had proved himself a faithful servant before, and though life
meant more to him than to most soldiers, he was not one to purchase
personal safety by the betrayal of his sovereign.
Again Herr Bomcke upraised his honeyed tones.
"Captain von Hügelweiler," he announced.
The Captain bowed, and then stood at the salute.
"Good-morning, Captain," said his Majesty. "To what am I indebted
for this honour?"
"I wish to send in my papers, sire."
"You wish to resign? What is it? Money troubles?"
The Captain hesitated.
"I am thinking of getting married, sire," he answered at length.
"Young and a bachelor," said the King, "of course you are thinking of
getting married. That is very right and proper, but hardly a reason
for sending in your papers."
Again Von Hügelweiler was at a loss for words, and a tinge of colour
mounted to his olive cheeks.
"I am tired of soldiering," he said, after a long struggle for
thought.
"Meyer," said the King, turning to his Commander-in-Chief, "is not
this man a Von Hügelweiler?"
"Yes, your Majesty. A member of one of the oldest and most
distinguished families in your kingdom?"
"The son of Heinrich Salvator von Hügelweiler, who fought in the
trenches in '84?" persisted the monarch.
Again the Commander-in-Chief replied in the affirmative.
"He is tired of my service, Meyer," went on King in a low voice.
Von Hügelweiler's head sank onto his breast, as if weighed down with
shame.
"Your Majesty can be served in more ways than one," he murmured.
"But in none so well as by the sword," returned the King. "When an
officer resigns his commission on the eve of war we call him by an
ugly name, Captain."
"But we are not on the eve of war, sire," expostulated the poor
Captain.
"Pardon me," said Karl, "I think otherwise."
"If there is fighting, sire, my sword is at your service."
"There is fighting and fighting," mused the King. "Fighting in the
long-drawn firing-line with your nearest comrade ten yards distant,
and your nearest foe a mile off; and there is fighting in the narrow
street with your company shoulder to shoulder, and the enemy at the
end of your swordpoint. The former needs courage, but the latter
needs courage and a loyal heart. Do I make myself clear, Captain von
Hügelweiler?"
Von Hügelweiler straightened himself. Life's problems seemed very
puzzling just now. He had acted from the best motives in tendering
his resignation, for if he decided to aid and abet the King's
enemies, he preferred not to do so in the King's uniform. But the
instincts of a soldier and certain splendid traditions of his family
warred hard with his desires.
"I understand my resignation is not acceptable, your Majesty," he
said at length.
"I neither refuse it nor accept it," said Karl. "This morning I am
going ski-ing to Nussheim. I need protection these troublous times,
and I am taking my Commander-in-Chief with me. I am taking Herr
Saunders, who is a deadly revolver shot; I am also taking Mrs.
Saunders, who has nerves of steel and the heart of an Amazon. Will
you make assurance doubly sure and form part of my body-guard to
Nussheim?"
Von Hügelweiler's eyes flashed proudly at the honour, and his hand
went to the hilt of his sword.
"Your Majesty's safety shall be on my head," he said.