A LITTLE FINGER
The king of Jugendheit, Prince Ludwig, and the chancellor sat in the
form of a triangle. Herbeck was making a pyramid of his finger-tips,
sometimes touching his chin with his thumbs. His face was cheerful. His
royal highness, still in the guise of a mountaineer, sat stiffly in his
chair, the expression on his face hardly translatable; that on the
king's not at all. He was dressed in the brilliant uniform of a colonel
in the Prussian Uhlans, an honor conferred upon him recently by King
William. Prior to his advent into the Grand Duchy of Ehrenstein he had
been to Berlin. A whim, for which he was now grateful, had cozened him
into carrying this uniform along with him on his adventures. It was only
after he met Gretchen that there came moments when he forgot he was a
king. He was pale. From hour to hour his heart seemed to grow colder and
smaller and harder, till it now rested in his breast with the heaviness
of a stone, out of which life and the care of living had been squeezed.
He rarely spoke, leaving the burden of the conversation to rest upon his
uncle's tongue.
"So your royal highness will understand," said Herbeck, "that it was the
simplest move I could make, and the safest. Were it known, or had it
been known this morning, that the king of Jugendheit and the prince
regent had entered Dreiberg in disguise and had been lodged in the
Stein-schloss, there would have been a serious riot in the city. So I
had you arrested as spies. Presently a closed carriage will convey you
to the frontier, and the unfortunate incident will be ended."
"Thanks!" said Prince Ludwig.
"And when you cross the frontier, it would be wise to disperse the
troops waiting there for you."
Prince Ludwig smiled. "It was only an army of defense. The duke had
nearly twenty thousand men at the maneuvers. I have no desire for war;
but, on the other hand, I am always ready for it."
"There will never be any war between us," prophetically. "The duke
grows impatient at times, but I can always rouse his sense of justice.
You will, of course, pardon the move I made. There will be no publicity.
There will be no newspaper notoriety, for the journalists will know
nothing of what has really happened."
"For that consideration your excellency has my deepest thanks," replied
Prince Ludwig.
"I thought it best to let you go without seeing the duke. The meeting
between you two might be painful."
"That also is thoughtful of your excellency," said the king. "I have no
desire to see or speak to his highness."
"There is, however, one favor I should like to ask," said the prince.
"Can I grant it?"
"Easily. I wish to leave a sum of money in trust, to be paid to one
Gretchen Schwarz, who lives in the Krumerweg. She is ambitious to become
a singer. Let nothing stand between her and her desires."
"Granted."
The heart of the king, at the sound of that dear name, suddenly
expanded and stifled him. The stiffness went out of his shoulders.
"Ah, this little world of ours, the mistakes and futile schemes we make
upon it!" The chancellor dallied with his quill pen. "It was a cynical
move of fate that your majesty should see the goose-girl first."
"Enough!" cried the king vehemently. "Let us have no more retrospection,
if you please. Moreover, I shall be obliged to you if you will summon at
once the carriage which is to take us to the frontier. The situation has
been amicably and satisfactorily explained. I see no reason why we
should be detained any longer."
"Nor I," added Prince Ludwig. "I am rather weary of these tatters. I
should even like a bath."
The three of them were immediately attracted by a singular noise outside
in the corridor. The door swung in violently, crashing against the wall
and shivering into atoms the Venetian mirror. The king, the prince, and
the chancellor were instantly upon their feet. The king clutched the
back of his chair with a grip of iron: Gretchen? Her highness? What was
Gretchen doing here? Ah, could he have flown! He muttered a curse at the
chancellor for the delay. But happily Gretchen did not see him.
The duke came in first, and he waited till the others were inside; then
he shut the door with lesser violence and rushed over to the chancellor.
"Herbeck, you villain!"
The chancellor stared at the Gipsy, at Von Arnsberg, at Grumbach.
"Herbeck, you black scoundrel!" cried the duke. "Can you realize how
difficult it is not to take you by the throat and strangle you here and
now?"
"He is mad!" said Herbeck, bracing himself against the desk.
"Yes. I _am_ mad, but it is the sane madness of a terribly wronged man.
Come here, you Gipsy!" The duke seized Herbeck's hand and pressed it
down fiercely on the desk. "Look at that and tell me if it is not the
hand of a Judas!"
"That is the hand, Highness," said the Gipsy, without hesitation.
The duke flung the hand aside. As he did so something snapped in
Herbeck's brain, though at that instant he was not conscious of it.
"It was you, you! It was your hand that wrecked my life, yours! Ah, is
there such villainy? Are such men born and do they live? My wife dead,
my own heart broken, Arnsberg ruined and disgraced! And these two
children: which is mine?"
To the king of Jugendheit the ceiling reeled and the floor revolved
under his feet.
"Villain, what have you to say? What was your purpose?"
How many years, thought Herbeck, had he been preparing for this moment?
How long had he been steeling his heart against this very scene? Futile
dream! He drew himself together with a supreme effort. He would face
this hour as he had always planned to face it. Found out! He looked at
his finger, touched it with an impersonal curiosity. He had forgotten
all about such a possibility. Where had he read that there is no crime
but leaves some evidence, infinitesimally small though it be, which
shall lead to the truth? After all, he was glad. The strain, borne so
long, was gradually killing him. A little finger, to have stopped the
wheel of so great a scheme! Irony!
"Your Highness," he said, his voice soft and strangely clear, "I have
been waiting for this hour. So I am found out! How little we know what
God intends!"
"You speak of God? You blaspheme!"
"Bear with me for a space. I shall not hold you long."
"But why? What have I done to you that you should wreck all I hold
dear?"
"For you I have always had a strong affection, strange as it may sound."
Herbeck fumbled with his collar, which was tightening round his throat
like a band of hot iron. "I have practically governed this country for
sixteen years. In that time I have made it prosperous and happy; I have
given you a substantial treasury; I have made you an army; I have
brought peace where you would have brought war. To my people God will
witness that I have done my duty as I saw it. One day I fell the victim
of a mad dream. And to think that I almost won!"
"And I?" said Hildegarde, her hands clenched and pressed against her
bosom. "What have you done to me, who am innocent of any wrong? What
have you done to me?"
"You, my child? I have wronged you greatest of all. The wrong I have
done to you is irreparable. Ah, have not my arms hungered for the touch
of you, my heart ached for the longing of you? To see you day after day,
always humble before you, always glad to kiss the back of your hand!
Have I not lived in hell, your Highness?" turning to the duke.
"What am I, and who am I?" whispered Hildegarde, her heart almost
ceasing to beat.
"I am your father!" simply.