By the fireplace of the great hall of the Brunvarad, Karl was
standing with his two Generals, Meyer and Von Bilderbaum. It was six
o'clock, and with the falling of night a thin haze of clouds had
swept up from Austria, and a mist of fine snow was descending with
silent persistence on hill and roof, rink and run, on the inviolate
forts of Meyer's planning, and on the battered remains of the
Marienkastel. Within the palace abundant electric light and blazing
logs lent cheerfulness to the great stone walls of the chamber, and
the huge dark beams that spanned them. On the men's coats were
rapidly diminishing tokens of the storm without.
"I have to thank you for your congratulations," Karl was saying as he
shook the snow from his cap into the spluttering flame, "and to thank
you more especially for the efforts which have rendered those
congratulations applicable."
Von Bilderbaum tugged nervously at his huge white moustache.
"I had so little to do, sire," he protested. "If I had headed a ski
charge----"
"You would probably not be here to receive my thanks," interrupted
Karl with a kindly laugh and a hand laid roughly on the old General's
shoulder. "I'm sure Frau von Bilderbaum will agree with me, that
Meyer's tactical passivity was superb. Meyer, again I thank you.
You have served me well."
"My motives for doing so were so obvious," drawled the
Commander-in-Chief. "Had Bernhardt won I should probably have been
shot; certainly exposed to danger and hardships. As it is, I shall
sleep well to-night in a comfortable room, with the pleasing
conviction that your Majesty's gratitude will ultimately take a
tangible form."
Karl laughed heartily. His eye was very bright, and the burden of
many years seemed taken off his wide shoulders.
"Upon my word," he said, "I sometimes pity my dear cousins of Germany
and England, who rule over united and contented kingdoms. I have my
anxieties, God knows, but I also have my compensations. Fair weather
is a pleasant thing, but it is the storm that distinguishes the
friend from the parasite."
The great bell of the Brunvarad clanged, and a minute later Bomcke
announced Robert Saunders and his wife.
"We come to offer your Majesty our congratulations," said Saunders.
Karl took the Englishman's hand, and held it in a firm grasp.
"You are a lucky man," he said with a glance at Mrs. Saunders'
radiant cheeks. "You possess the silver of friendship and the gold
of love. I have only friendship, and therefore I prize the lesser
metal at great value. If this day is the turning-point of my
fortunes, and I become King again of a whole country, I shall not
esteem my happiness complete unless my friend, Robert Saunders, is my
right-hand man."
"Your Majesty's fortunes are assured," said Saunders. "The enemy is
half-way back to Wallen by now."
"And is being pursued?" asked Karl.
"Von Hügelweiler begged leave to harry them," said Meyer, "and he is
harrying them to such purpose that they have shed their guns one by
one in their flight. Had it not been for the snow-storm he might
have captured a hundred or two prisoners."
"I think," said Karl, "we will not push our victory further. We have
won the day, and there has been sufficiency of bloodshed. To-night I
am a happy man, and I wish no one ill. Meyer, give orders for Von
Hügelweiler to be recalled. He has done his work well, and he shall
have his reward."
Meyer withdrew with a shrug to the room where the telephone was
installed.
"It is good to see your Majesty happy," said Mrs. Saunders in the
silence that followed Meyer's departure. "There has sat a cloud on
your brow ever since we have been in Grimland. And to-night for the
first time the cloud is gone, and there is sunshine--the old sunshine
of 1904--in your face."
"Aye, I am happy," assented Karl with a smile, "happy in my friends."
"Here comes another happy person," said Saunders with an upward
glance to the staircase, down which the spacious person of Frau von
Bilderbaum was slowly descending.
"Truly spoken," said Karl, for as the ex-maid-of-honour caught sight
of her lord and master she quickened her footsteps to a bovine
canter, and hurled herself enthusiastically on to the General's
breast.
"My brave, brave Heinrich!" she gasped.
"Not at all, at all!" murmured the warrior, disengaging himself
gently from the overpowering embrace. "I have done literally
nothing. Now, if there had been a ski-charge----"
At this moment Meyer returned from the telephone.
"I have sent to recall Hügelweiler," he said; "but I must say I think
the policy of mercy is being over-done. My forbears of Palestine
were not half so kind when they got the Amalekites on the run."
"We are not dealing with Amalekites," said Karl, "but with
Grimlanders, who happen to be our fellow-countrymen. But come,
ladies and gentlemen, let us eat, drink, and be merry, for the storm
is over and the sun is already gleaming through the thin edges of the
cloud-wrack."
"I am not a weather prophet," said Meyer, "nor did Providence assign
to me a sanguine temperament. We have hit the enemy hard, and we
have drawn most of his teeth, but until Bernhardt's dead body is
discovered stiffening in the snow I have no intention of celebrating
a decisive victory."
"Don't do so, then, dear raven," laughed Karl, "but at least take
food for your strength's sake. At any rate, I hear that Bernhardt
was wounded in the attack on Sanatorium Hill."
"A wounded tiger is not a particularly innocuous beast," returned the
Commander-in-Chief, "and there is a certain friend of Herr Saunders
who has the unpleasant gift of rising superior to difficulties, and
whom I fear is not even wounded."
The meal at the Brunvarad was neither very long nor very festive.
Meyer's taciturn refusal to admit premature victory had a distinctly
damping effect on the spirits of the company. Noises of revelry and
jubilation were audible from the world without, _feux de joie_,
rockets, songs of carousal and bursts of cheering broke in on the
desultory conversation that flowed fitfully round the royal
dining-table. But these sounds of jubilation only brought a deeper
frown to the features of Von Bilderbaum, an added sneer to the lips
of the Commander-in-Chief; even the King began to lose the exaltation
that had so illumined his countenance.
"The Weissheimer is in his element to-night," said Meyer. "He
believes himself a hero, and will get most heroically drunk. If
Bernhardt's retreat is only a ruse,--as I suspect,--he will return in
the small hours and capture a town guarded by fuddled swine."
"Is there no discipline in my army?" asked Karl irritably.
"Very little just at present," was Meyer's cool reply. "Our friends
have stood by us at a pinch; it is too much to expect them to keep
sober when the danger is apparently over."
Karl rose angrily to his feet.
"And are we to assume," he demanded, "that the garrisons of our
redoubts are drunk at their posts?"
"Certainly not," said Meyer; "they are drunk in the streets and
taverns of Weissheim."
"Then I am going where my men ought to be," said Karl. "If we can
gather a sufficient body of sober men to hold Redoubt A, we can at
least foil any attempt of Bernhardt's to rush the town in the dead of
night."
"An admirable idea," said Meyer rising with the others, "and one
which I was going to suggest myself. I can manage a searchlight, and
Von Bilderbaum can train a _mitrailleuse_, and Herr Saunders can
order a company of riflemen--if he can find them."
"Come," said Karl, making towards the door, "let us waste no time!"
"Your Majesty," said Mrs. Saunders, speaking with some hesitation,
"this morning I asked my husband to let me accompany him to the
Marienkastel. He refused, and with reason. But there is no danger
in your quest to-night. I am not asking you to let me help guard the
redoubts, but to use a woman's influence in obtaining recruits for
your garrison."
"Bravely spoken!" said Karl. "Wrap yourself well in furs, dear lady,
and come with us. Bilderbaum can swear, and Meyer can sneer, but a
beautiful woman can compel by surer means."
"If Frau Saunders goes, I will go too," said the wife of General
Bilderbaum. "I will shake these drunken soldiers into a sense of
discipline, or I am not the wife of the bravest soldier in your
Majesty's army."
The party of six sallied forth into the night. The snow had ceased
falling, and the haze of clouds had drifted southwards, leaving the
black dome of night clean and clear and jewelled with the steely
brilliance of the winter stars. Through the courtyard they strode,
over the squeaking snow, past the sentinels in their black and yellow
boxes with their charcoal braziers, past the great piers of the
entrance with their fantastic caps of overhanging snow, and as they
went the sounds of revelry assailed their ears with louder note.
"Dissipation is the better part of valour," was Meyer's sneering
comment, as the refrain of riotous song floated on the thin air. "It
is so easy to be brave when the red wine is well within range, and
the ammunition of the _bier-halle_ is inexhaustible."
In the road were groups of men, soldiers and civilians, with linked
arms, reeling gait, and a gift for making the night hideous with
tuneless song.
Within fifty yards of the palace a bonfire had been kindled, and
round its ruddy flames a wild dance, a veritable _carmagnole_ of
drunken triumph, was in progress. Here the royal party stopped to
watch, and in a few minutes they were recognised.
"Hail, Karl the Twenty-second of Grimland!" cried a big-bearded man
in a military overcoat. "Long live our gallant King!"
"Three cheers for Karl!" cried another, a burly form well muffled in
a gigantic green ulster. "Death to the revolutionaries!"
Karl saluted gravely.
"Your sentiments are admirable, sirs," he said. "It would be perhaps
even nobler if you put them into practice."
"I have been in the firing-line all day," answered the first speaker,
"and Bernhardt and his men are two leagues from here by now."
"They may not be so in the small hours of the morning," said Meyer.
"If they take it into their heads to return, they will have an easy
task to overcome an army of sots."
The dance had ceased for the moment. The majority stood at a little
distance from the royal party, ashamed to pursue their orgy, but
resentful of its interruption. Two other figures, however, arm in
arm,--as if to steady their unruly footsteps,--joined the group. One
of them,--a small man with a big blonde moustache,--was clad in the
uniform of a private. The other was wrapped in a sheepskin overall
and had a woollen helmet pulled down over his ears and chin. The
latter raised a guttural voice in husky protest.
"It is hard if we cannot celebrate your Majesty's victory in our own
way!" he hiccupped. "A glass or two of wine hurts no man on a cold
night like this." He steadied himself against the small soldier.
"Frantz will be all right in half an hour," said the bearded one
confidently. "He has had but two or three cups of Kurdesheim, and
his head is not over-strong. A few more dances round the bonfire and
he will be as sober as any of us."
"Look here, my merry gentlemen," said Meyer. "You seem to me to be
only partially drunk, and a brisk walk down to the forts would
probably render you tolerably sober. If you will stand by us
to-night and help us guard the town till daylight you shall be drunk
for a week on end at the King's expense--I swear it on the honour of
a Jew."
"That's well spoken," said the bearded man pensively. "I like to get
jolly now and again, but I don't want to see those d----d
Weidenbruckers stealing a march on us when we're in our cups. I'm
for the King, I am, and to the devil with the Schattenbergs!"
"But to-morrow there will be no sport afoot," objected the man in the
green ulster, "and to-night there will be grand fun in the 'Drei
Kronen' and outside the Meierei."
A murmur of agreement came from the others.
"They say they're going to burn Father Bernhardt in effigy," said the
fellow in the woollen helmet, "and that there will be free beer at
the 'Drei Kronen.' The beer at the 'Drei Kronen' is good--very good."
It was Mrs. Saunders who spoke next.
"I think these men are quite right," she said coolly. "They have
probably seen a little fighting from a distance, and are quite
satisfied with that. They evidently prefer the smell of beer to the
smell of gunpowder, and would be quite useless if there was serious
work to do in the forts."
"What's that?" demanded the bearded man, in a sudden access of
indignation. "We afraid! My father was a soldier, and so was my
grandfather, and I have served his Majesty twelve years come
Michaelmas, and one doesn't serve twelve years in the army of
Grimland without learning something about ball cartridges. Afraid!
Bah! I'd sooner spend a night in the trenches potting at old
Bernhardt and his friends than drink the best brandy in the cellars
of the Brunvarad."
"An admirable sentiment," said Meyer, "but one not apparently shared
by your comrade in the green ulster."
"Oh, I like fighting well enough," replied the individual in
question, "only it is cold work doing sentry-go when there's no enemy
within six miles of you."
"For shame!" cried Mrs. Saunders. "Is your idea of military service
the mere excitement of fine-weather fighting? Is not _duty_ among
your ideals as well as _glory_? We so far mistrust this retreat of
Bernhardt's that we are going to Redoubt A to watch against any
return of the rebuffed Weidenbruckers. Must we go alone,--four men
who are wearied with long hours of anxiety and ceaseless activity,
and two women who have never handled a rifle in their existence? Is
that your creed of loyalty, your standard of a soldier's honour?"
"Rudolf," said the man in the ulster to the gentleman with the beard,
"we must accompany our good sovereign and his friends to the fort.
The lady is right. Duty is duty, and the beer of the 'Drei Kronen'
can wait. I would have liked a dance outside the Meierei, but----"
here he wiped an eye with the sleeve of his ulster--"I am a man of
honour--and the beer will keep."
"Forward then!" said Meyer, striking while the iron was hot. "Down
the hill to Redoubt A, and gather what recruits we can in the name of
duty--and postponed beer."