The Puppet Crown - Harlod MacGrath (nice books to read TXT) 📗

some day I shall be free again, and then God help some of you."

Maurice gazed at the candles on the table, and smiled.

"I'm sorry they dragged you into it, Maurice," said Fitzgerald.

"I'm glad they did. What you want is company." There was a glance, swift as light. It went to the mantel, then passed to the captive. "Well," said Maurice, "what is next on your damned program?"

"The other side of the frontier."

"Maybe," said Maurice.

With an unexpected movement he sent the table over, the lights went out; and he had judged the distance so accurately that he felt his hands close over the revolvers.

"The door! the door!" a voice bawled. "Knock down any one who attempts to pass."

This was precisely what Maurice desired. With the soldiers massed about the door, he would be free to liberate Fitzgerald; which he did. He had scarcely completed the task, when a flame spurted up. The leader fearlessly lit a candle and righted the table. He saw both his prisoners, one of them with extended arms, at the ends of which glistened revolver barrels.

"The devil!" he said.

"Maybe it is," replied Maurice. "Now, my gay banqueteers, open the door; and the first man who makes a suspicious movement will find that I'm a tolerable shot."

"Seize him, your Excellency!" shouted one of the troopers. "Those are my revolvers he has, and they are not loaded."


CHAPTER VIII


THE RED CHATEAU

Two o'clock in the morning, on the king's highway, and a small body of horse making progress. The moon was beginning to roll away toward the west, but the world was still frost-white, and the broad road stretched out like a silver ribbon before the horsemen, until it was lost in the blue mist of the forests.

The troop consisted of ten men, two of whom rode with their hands tied behind their backs and their feet fastened under the bellies of the horses. The troop was not conspicuous for this alone. Three others had their heads done up in handkerchiefs, and a fourth carried his arm in a sling.

Five miles to the rear lay the sleeping city of Bleiberg, twenty miles beyond rose the formidable heights of the Thalians. At times the horses went forward at a gallop, but more often they walked; when they galloped the man with his arm in the sling complained. Whenever the horses dropped into a walk, the leader talked to one of the prisoners.

"You fight like the very devil, my friend," he said; "but we were too many by six. Mind, I think none the less of you for your attempt; freedom is always worth fighting for. As I said before, no harm is meant to you, physically; as to the moral side, that doesn't concern me. You have disabled four of my men, and have scarcely a dozen scratches to show for it. I wanted to take only four men with me; I was ordered to take eight. The hand of providence is in it."

"You wouldn't be so polite, Colonel," spoke up the trooper whose arm was in the sling, "if you had got this crack."

"Baron, who told you to call me Colonel?" the leader demanded.

"Why, we are out of the city; there's no harm now that I can see."

"Is it possible," said Maurice ironically, "that I have had the honor of hitting a baron on the head and breaking his arm?"

The baron muttered a curse and fell back.

"And you," went on Maurice, addressing the leader, "are a Colonel?"

"Yes."

"For the duchess?"

"For the duchess."

"A black business for you, Colonel; take my word for it."

"A black business it is; but orders are orders. Have you ever been a soldier?"

"I have."

"Well, there's nothing more to be said."

"America-" Maurice began.

"Is several thousand miles away."

"Not if you reckon from Vienna."

"I'd rather not reckon, if it's all the same to you. Your friend- I might say, your very valuable friend-takes the matter too much to heart."

"He's not a talkative man."

Fitzgerald looked straight ahead, stern and impassive.

"But now that we are talking," said Maurice, "I should like to know how the deuce you got hold of my name and dragged me into this affair?"

"Simple enough. A card of yours was given to me; on it was your name and address. The rest was easy."

Maurice grew limp in the saddle.

"By George! I had forgotten! The woman is at the bottom of it."

"Quite likely. I thought you'd come to that conclusion. Sometimes when we play with foxes they lead us into bear traps. Young man, witness these gray hairs; never speak to strange women, especially when they wear veils."

Fitzgerald was now attending the conversation.

"And who is this woman?" asked Maurice.

"Mademoiselle of the Veil, according to your picturesque imagination; to me she is the intimate friend and adviser of her Highness Stephonia." He wheeled to the troopers with a laugh: "Hoch, you beggars, hoch!"

Maurice indulged in some uncomplimentary remarks, among which was: "I'm an ass!"

"Every man improves on making that discovery; the Darwinian theory is wrong."

After a pause Maurice said: "How did you get on the ground so quickly?"

"We arrived yesterday afternoon as the escort of your charmer. A pretty woman finds it troublesome to travel alone in these parts. When you slapped your friend on the back and bawled out his name-a name known from one end of the kingdom to the other-the plan of action was immediately formed. You were necessary, for it was taken for granted that you knew too much. You had also promised your sword," with a chuckle.

"I made no promise," said Maurice. "I only said that I should easily be found when wanted."

"Well, so you were; there's no gainsaying that."

Maurice said some more uncomplimentary things.

"It was neatly done, you will admit. Life is a game of cards; he wins who plays first."

"Or he doesn't. Colonel, a game is won only when it is played'."

"That's true enough."

"Kings are a tolerable bother on earth," Maurice declared, trying to ease his wrists by holding them higher against his back.

"What do you know about them?"

"When I was in the army I often fell in with three or four of a night."

"Eh?-kings?"

"Yes; but usually I was up against aces or straight flushes."

"Cards! Well, well; when you get down to the truth of the matter, real kings differ but little from the kings in pasteboard; right side up, or wrong side up, they serve the purpose of those who play them. There's a poor, harmless devil back there," with a nod toward Bleiberg. "He never injured a soul. Perhaps that's it; had he been cruel, avaricious, sly, all of them would be cringing at his feet. Devil take me-but I'm a soldier," he broke off abruptly; "it's none of my business."

"Have you any titles?" Maurice asked presently.

"Titles?" The Colonel jerked around on his horse. "Why?"

"O," said Maurice carelessly, "I thought it not unlikely that you might have a few lying around loose."

The Colonel roared. "You Americans beat the very devil with your questions. Well, I am politely known as Count Mollendorf, if that will gratify you."

"What! brother of Mollendorf of the king's police?"

"God save the mark! No; I am an honest man -some of the time."

Maurice laughed; the old fellow was amusing, and besides, this conversation helped to pass away the time.

"Wake up, Jack; here's entertainment," he said.

A scowl added itself to the stern expression on Fitzgerald's face.

"I trust that none of your teeth are loose," ventured the Colonel.

"If they are, they'll be tight enough ere many days have passed," was the threatening reply.

"Beware the dog!" cried the Colonel, and he resumed his place at the head of the little troop.

Maurice took this opportunity to bend toward Fitzgerald. "Have you anything of importance about you?" he whispered significantly.

"Nothing. But God send that no chambermaid change the sheet in my bed at the hotel."

"Are they-"

"Silence." Fitzgerald saw the trooper next with his hand to his ear.

After a time the Colonel sang out: "Fifteen miles more, with three on the other side, men; we must put more life into us. A trot for a few miles. The quicker the ride is done, baron, the quicker the surgeon will look to your arm."

And silence fell upon the troop. Occasionally a stray horse in the fields whinneyed, and was answered from the road; sometimes the howl of a dog broke the monotony. On and on they rode; hour and mile were left behind them. The moon fell lower and lower, and the mountains rose higher and higher, and the wind which had risen had a frosty sting to it. Maurice now began to show the true state of his temper by cursing his horse whenever it rubbed against one of its fellows. His back was lame, and there was a dull pain in one of his shoulders. When he had made the rush for the door, clubbing right and left with the empty revolvers, he had finally been thrown on an overturned chair.

"Here, hang you!" he said to the trooper who held the bridle of his horse, "I'm cold; you might at least turn up my collar about my throat."

"You are welcome to my cloak," said the trooper, disengaging that article from his shoulders.

"Thank you," said Maurice, somewhat abashed by the respectful tone.

The trooper offered his blanket to Fitzgerald.

"I wish no favors," said the Englishman, thanklessly.

The trooper shrugged, and caught up Maurice's bridle.

At length the troop arrived at the frontier. There was no sign of life at the barrack. They passed unchallenged.

"What!" exclaimed Maurice, "do they sleep here at night, then? A fine frontier barrack." He had lived in hopes of more disturbance and a possible chance for liberty.

"They will wake up to-day," answered the Colonel; "that is, if the wine we gave them was not too strong. Poor devils; they must be good and cold by this time, since we have their clothes. What do you think of a king whose soldiers drink with any strangers who chance along?"

Maurice became resigned. To him the present dynasty was as fragile as glass, and it needed but one strong blow to shatter it into atoms. And the one hope rode at his side, sullen and wrathful, but impotent; the one hope the king had to save his throne. He had come to Bleiberg in search of excitement, but this was altogether more than he had bargained for.

The horses began to lift and were soon winding in and out of the narrow mountain pass. The chill of the overhanging snows fell upon them.

"It wouldn't have hurt you to accept the blanket," said Maurice to Fitzgerald.

"Curse it! I want nothing but two minutes freedom. It would be warm enough then."

"No confidences, gentlemen," warned the Colonel; "I understand English tolerably well."

"Go to the devil, then, if you do!" said Fitzgerald discourteously.

"When the time comes," tranquilly. "Of the two I like your friend the better. To be resigned to the inevitable is a sign of good mental balance."

"I am not