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THE TRAITORS

by

E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM

Author of
"A Millionaire of Yesterday," "The
World's Great Snare," etc.

Illustrated







New York
Dodd, Mead & Company
1903

Copyright, 1902
By E. Phillips Oppenheim

Copyright, 1903
By Dodd, Mead & Company

First Edition published March, 1903




[Illustration: "MARIE ... SHOT THE MAN THROUGH THE HEART."]




ILLUSTRATIONS


                                                            PAGE

 "MARIE ... SHOT THE MAN THROUGH
 THE HEART,"                                      _Frontispiece_

 "'I BELIEVE,' HE SAID, 'THAT YOU OUGHT
 TO KISS--MY HAND,'"                                         160

 "NICHOLAS OF REIST STOOD ON THE
 THRESHOLD,"                                                 220

 "'THE WAR IS OVER,' HE CRIED,"                              342




The Traitors




CHAPTER I


"Down with the traitors! Down with the Russian spies! Down with
Metzger!"

Above the roaring of the north wind rose the clamour of voices, the
cries of hate and disgust, the deep groaning sobs of fierce and
militant anger. The man and the woman exchanged quick glances.

"They are coming nearer," he said.

She drew aside the heavy curtain, and stood there, looking out into
the night.

"It is so," she answered. "They are pouring into the square."

He rose and stood beneath the great carved mantelpiece. Over his head,
hewn out of the solid oak, black with age and  with that deep
richness which is to-day as a lost art, were blazoned the arms of one
of Europe's noblest families. He, Nicholas of Reist, its sole male
representative, stood deep in thought, his dark young face furrowed
with anxiety. The moment was critical. It was one of a lifetime.

She dropped the curtain and came over to his side. The flush of
excitement was in her cheeks. Her eyes were like shining stars. Of
their close relationship there could be no manner of doubt. The same
oval face and finely-cut features, the same pride of race, the same
firm, graceful bearing. Only there were lines upon his face--the lines
of thought and care; whilst hers remained as smooth as damask,
typically and wonderfully beautiful.

Again the murmur of hoarse voices--nearer now and more clamorous.

"Down with the traitor Metzger and his accursed government! Reist!
Reist! A Reist!"

Her white fingers fell upon his shoulder.

"They are calling for you, Nicholas," she said, softly. "Listen! It is
the voice of our people, and they need you. Will you go out and speak
to them? Shall I open the window--yes?"

"Not yet," he answered, swiftly. "Not yet."

Her hands were already upon the curtains. She turned around, an
impatient frown upon her face.

"You do not hesitate, my brother," she cried. "No, it is not possible.
It is our country, Nicholas, our homeland which calls for you to save
it."

"Ay, to save it--but how? Metzger has made the way difficult."

Her eyes flashed fire upon him. She was superbly disdainful.

"Are you the first Duke of Reist who has governed Theos?" she cried.
"Is there not the blood of former Kings in your veins? Holy Mother,
but it is intolerable that you should hesitate! Nicholas, if you let
these people call in vain you will be the first of our race who has
ever shrunk from his duty. I will not call you any longer my brother.
Listen!"

"Reist! Nicholas of Reist! Down with the common dogs. Down with the
traitors. Down with Metzger!"

He smiled faintly. Those subtle lines about his mouth were not there
in vain.

"I wonder where Metzger is hiding," he murmured. "How good it would be
to see him now. How he would quiver and shake. There is death in those
voices."

She flashed a look of impatient scorn upon him.

"You are trifling with your destiny, Nicholas," she cried. "What
matters the life or death of such as Metzger? Our people need you. Out
and tell the men of Theos that once again a Reist will save his
country."

"Brave words, little sister. Brave words."

Her eyes were ablaze with anger.

"Have I been mistaken in you all these years, Nicholas?" she cried.
"Listen again. Those are the children of your city who call to you for
aid. Have you no longer the heart of a man or the blood of a patriot?"

A storm of wind and rain shook the high windows. From below came the
sound of a multitude thronging nearer and nearer till the square
seemed filled to overflowing with a surging mob. The man raised his
head as one who listens, and the smile no longer lightened his face.
The woman who watched him anxiously drew a long sigh of relief. She
knew then beyond a doubt that it needed no words from her to fire his
resolution.

"Marie," he said, quietly, "those are the voices which I have prayed
all my life that I might hear. Only I fear that they have come too
soon. Have you considered what it is that they would have from me?"

"They would make you lord of the country," she cried. "Who better or
more fitted? Have no fear, Nicholas. You come of a race of rulers. The
God of our fathers will guide your destiny."

The room, huge, unlit and darkened with tapestry hangings, seemed full
of mysterious shadows. Only those two faces--the girl's passionate,
the man's keenly thoughtful--seemed like luminous things. From below
came still the murmur of voices rising every now and then to a hoarse
roar. The man became suddenly explicit. His face relaxed. He came back
from a far-away land of thought.

"Listen," he said. "These people have come to put me in Metzger's
place. There would be no difficulty about that. Already I have
received a message from the House of Laws. Bah! I have no stomach
to sit in council with tradesmen and citizens, to have my will
questioned, to rule only by a casting vote. These modern forms
of government are vile. They would make me President of their
Republic--I, a Reist of Theos, whose forefathers ruled the land
with sword and fire. They would put me in the place of Metzger, the
merchant--Metzger, who would have sold his country to the Russians.
I say no!"

"What, then?" she cried. "What, then? Speak, Nicholas. There are
thoughts behind. Who but I should know them?"

"When I rule Theos," he answered, slowly, "it shall be even as the
Dukes of Reist have ruled it before me, with a sceptre in their hands,
and a sword upon their knees. That time is not yet, Marie, but it may
come. I think that you and I will see it."

"Why not now?" she cried. "The people would accept you on any terms.
The Republic has fallen. You shall be their King."

He shook his head.

"The time is not yet," he repeated. "Marie, believe me, I know my
people. In their blood lingers still some taint of the democratic
fever. You must learn, little sister, as I have learned it, the legend
on our walls and shield, the motto of our race, 'Slowly, but ever
forward.'"

"But the people," she cried. "What will you say to them? It is you
whom they want. Their throats are hoarse with shouting."

He threw open the great windows, and a roar of welcome from below rose
high above the storm.

"You shall hear what I will say to them, Marie," he answered. "Come
out by my side."




CHAPTER II


Almost as the man stepped out on to the massive stone balcony of his
house, the wind dropped, and a red flaring sun dipped behind the
towering mountains which guarded the city westwards and eastwards. A
roar of greeting welcomed his appearance, and while he waited for
silence his eyes rested fondly upon the long line of iron-bound hills,
stern and silent guardians of the city of his birth. For a moment he
forgot his ambitions and the long unswerving pursuit of his great
desire. The love of his country was born in the man--the better part
of him was steeped in patriotic fervour. And most of all, he loved
this ancient city amongst the hills, the capital of the State, where
many generations of his family had lived and died. Dear to him were
its squares and narrow streets, the ancient stone houses, the many
picturesque records of its great age ever, as it seemed to him,
frowning with a stern and magnificent serenity amongst the tawdry
evidences of later days and the irresistible march of modernity. The
wine-shops of a hundred years ago flourished still side by side with
the more pretentious _cafes_, half French, half Russian, which had
sprung up like mushrooms about the city. The country-made homespuns,
the glassware and metal work, heritage of generations of craftsmen,
survived still the hideous competition of cheap Lancashire productions
and Brummagem ware. The picturesque old fought a brave battle with the
tinsel and tawdriness of the new. If Nicholas of Reist could have had
his way he would have built an impenetrable wall against this slow
poison, the unwelcome heritage of western progress. He would have
thrust the ages back a century and built bulwarks about his beloved
country. He looked downwards, and his heart grew warm within him. Many
of the people who shouted his name were from the country districts and
wore the picturesque garb of their forefathers long extinct in the
city. The sight of their eager, upturned faces was dear to him. Some
day they should be his people indeed. It should be his country to rule
as he thought best. He felt himself at that moment a patriot pure and
simple.

So he spoke to them in that clear, sweet voice which every Reist
possessed, and he spoke fluently and convincingly.

"My fellow-countrymen," he said, "these are not days for those who
love their country to waste breath in idle speech. Your Republic of
which you were so proud has fallen. Metzger has proved himself a
traitor. Well, I am not surprised at either of these things. I warned
you, but you would not listen. Your ancient Kings must indeed have
turned in their graves when you elected to be ruled by such men. You
have tried them, and you have been betrayed. What would you have with
me?"

"A new government," they cried. "A Reist for President!"

He raised his hand. The roar of voices died away at once.

"You would put me," he said, "in Metzger's place. You would make me
President of the Republic of Theos. Is that what you would have?"

"Ay! Ay!" from a thousand tongues. Then there was a breathless
silence. They waited in deep anxiety for the answer of this man whom
they had come to look upon as their one possible saviour.

For awhile he stood there speechless, deep in thought. After all, was
he not throwing away a certainty for what might prove an empty dream?
There had been Presidents who had become Dictators, and between that
and Monarchy the chasm was narrow and easily bridged. It was not for
long, however, that he wavered. His plans were too carefully thought
out to be changed by an impulse, however powerful. His time was not
yet.

"My people," he said quietly, "I thank you, and I am sorry that what
you ask may not be. It is not because I do not love my country, it is
not because I would not shed my last drop of blood in her defence. But
President of your Republic I never will be. No earthly power should
draw my footsteps across the threshold of your brand-new Parliament."

There arose a deep murmur of disappointment--almost of despair. They
shouted questions, appeals, prayers, and Nicholas of Reist leaned far
over his time-worn stone balcony and spoke to them again.

"You are questioning my patriotism," he cried. "You do not understand.
Very well, you shall know all that is in my mind. I am going to say
what will sound like treason to you. Perhaps you will shout me
down--it may be that you will leave me now in disgust. Nevertheless,
listen. I hate your Republic. It is a rotten, corrupt thing. I hate
what you have called your Parliament. There is scarcely a man in it
whom I would trust. What has your new-fangled scheme of government
done for you? It has made you the sport and plaything of the Powers,
our independence is hourly threatened, ay, even before this year has
passed away the cannon of the invader may be thundering against your
walls. When that time comes I promise that you shall not call to me in
vain. You shall find me amongst you sword in hand, and I pray God that
I may do my duty as a patriot and a faithful son of the State. But
this thing which you ask of me now I will not do. I will not take my
seat at the same table with those who have helped Metzger to traffic
in the freedom of this country. I will not speak with or have any
dealing with them. How is it that you have dared to ask me this thing,
men of Theos? Already the war beacons are built--soon they may be
reddening our skies. This is what your Republic has done for you, and
as God is my witness, so long as that Republic exists I will not lift
my little finger to help you."

Something of a panic seized the people, for indeed the words of the
speaker had come home to them, winged with a foretelling truth.
Metzger, their President, had been caught red-handed in a flagrant
attempt to barter away the freedom of their country. Who else might
not be implicated? They looked at one another fearfully. One feeling
alone was common to all. Before them was the only man whom they could
trust--one of their ancient nobility, a patriot, above suspicion. He
had more to say. They would take him on his own terms. So once more
the air was rent with their cries, and Nicholas of Reist raised again
his hand.

"Listen," he said. "You want my advice. You have come to me because
the State is in danger, and because those who should have defended it
have played you false. So be it! I speak to you as man to man, citizen
of Theos to citizen of Theos. No Republic can save you. It is a King
you want."

A deep, hoarse murmur swept upwards from the packed square. The
Republic had been their plaything, the caprice of an impulsive people,
and they were loth to own themselves in the wrong. Nicholas of Reist
read their faces like a book. Now or never must he win his way from
this people, or fall forever from their regard. His pale countenance
was lit with a passionate earnestness. He leaned towards them, and his
voice throbbed with tremulous eloquence.

"Listen," he cried. "You have had a Parliament and a
President--Metzger. What glories has he won for you?--how has he
enriched you, how much more prosperous is our country? I will tell you
what he has done. He has tried to sell you and Theos for a million
pounds. Oh, I am not afraid to tell you the truth, though one of you
should shoot me whilst I stand here. Theos was to become a tributary
state to Russia. Your country, which has defied conquest for a
thousand years, was to be bartered away that one man might live in
luxury on his miserable blood-money. Men of Theos, turn over the back
pages of your country's history. Think of those heroes who gave their
lives that you might be free men. Think of King Rudolph, who
vanquished all the hosts of Austria, or King Ughtred, who drove the
Turks back across the Balkans in midwinter, and with five thousand
ill-armed men routed the whole army of the Sultan. Remember Rudolph
the Second, who defended this very city for twelve months against
fifty thousand Turks, until for very shame England held up her hand
and all Europe rang with the gallantry of our King and his little band
of half-starved soldiers. Leave Republics to nations who have no past,
and whose souls are steeped in commerce. What have we to do with them?
We have a magnificent history, an ancient and glorious country. We
have soldiers, few perhaps, but matchless throughout the world. And
men of Theos, listen. Metzger has gone far in his treachery. I know
nothing of your State affairs, but this I do know. The covetousness of
those with whom he dealt is whetted. They are not likely to bear their
disappointment quietly. Before many months have passed the storm may
burst--the war beacons may be flaring round our borders. So I say to
you, have no more dealings with Republics. Scatter your Parliament to
the four winds of Heaven, summon back your ancient House of Laws,
choose for yourselves a soldier King, one of the ancient and royal
race, who shall rule you as his forefathers did in times of peace, and
ride before you with drawn sword when the war clouds gather."

The babel of many voices broke loose. Reist felt his sister's fingers
close upon his arm.

"It is you who must be their King, Nicholas."

He shook his head. Then they saw that he would speak again, and the
murmur of voices died away. Reist leaned over towards them, and his
face was very pale. This was his renunciation.

"My people," he said, "listen. Many of you have heard of the war which
the English have been carrying on in Egypt. You have heard perhaps of
a Captain Erlito, who, with a dozen men, held a Nile fort for two days
against a thousand dervishes, and for this and other acts of valour
has won the Iron Cross. But this at least you do not know. Captain
Erlito is the assumed name of Ughtred of Tyrnaus, Prince of Theos."

The murmur of voices became a roar of acclamation. Then Nicholas of
Reist raised his voice at once.

"Listen, men of Theos," he cried. "Is it your will that I seek out for
you Prince Ughtred and offer him the throne of Theos? Think well
before you answer. He is a soldier, a brave and honest man, and he is
of the royal race of Tyrnaus, who for many generations have been Kings
of Theos. He will not sell you to Russia or beckon the hosts of the
Sultan across the mountains. Will you have him for your King?"

The square, nay, the city, rang with their passionate answer. Never
was anything more unanimous. Nicholas stepped back into the room. His
sister faced him with blazing eyes and cheeks dyed red with anger.

"Fool!" she cried, "fool! They would have made you King. They were
yours to do what you would with. You have been false to your destiny.
I will never forgive you, Nicholas."

He smiled curiously, and pointed upwards to that deep-engraven legend.

"My time," he said, "is not yet."




CHAPTER III


The lift went rumbling up to the topmost storey of the great block of
flats, and stopped at last with something of a groan. The gates were
opened, and Reist stepped out. He looked about him at the bare walls,
the stone floor, and shrugged his shoulders. Erlito was none too well
lodged then--soldiering had brought him some brief fame, but little
else. Then he suddenly smiled. The incongruity of the thing was
ridiculous. His sense of humour, by no means a characteristic trait of
the man, was touched. The smile lingered upon his lips. He had come to
offer a kingdom to a pauper!

The lift-boy slammed his gates and prepared to descend.

"Captain Erlito's rooms are at the end of the passage, sir," he
volunteered. "Last door on the left."

The information was properly rewarded, and the boy's tolerant contempt
for the foreigner, who at his journey's end seemed afflicted with a
curious hesitation, became an extinct thing. He pulled the rope and
descended in hot haste, a large silver coin locked in his fingers and
a glorious tingling sensation of unbounded wealth in his bosom.

Reist knocked at the door which had been pointed out to him, and
waited. There came no answer. He tried again, and became conscious of
a confused volume of sounds within, altogether drowning his summons
for admission. He listened, perplexed. Light and rapid footsteps, the
swishing of a silken skirt, a clear, musical laugh and cry of triumph,
a succession of sounds which were wholly meaningless to him. Surely it
was some sort of pandemonium. A momentary silence was followed by a
chorus of voices. Reist raised his stick and knocked more loudly. A
man's voice travelled out to him like mild thunder.

"Come in!"

Reist opened the door and crossed the threshold. Before him was an
explanation of the sounds which he had heard. Only he was, if
possible, a little more bewildered than ever.

He was in a high, bare apartment, carpetless, and almost without
furniture. Across the middle of the floor was stretched an upright
net, and on either side of it were chalk-marked squares. Facing him
was a girl with her left foot poised slightly forward, her arm raised,
in the act of striking a feathered cork with a small racquet. By her
side was a man whom Reist recognized at once. Directly he saw his
visitor he stopped the game.

"One moment, Miss Van Decht," he cried. "I am wanted."

He crossed the room, swinging his racquet in his hand, and addressed
Reist with a pleasant smile.

"We have been making so much noise," he said, "that I am afraid we did
not hear your first knock. I am Captain Erlito. You wished to see me?"

Reist looked him steadily and full in the face. If physique went for
anything this man was surely born to be a King. He was well over six
feet, splendidly made, and of military appearance. His features were
clean-cut in the unmistakable Tyrnaus mould--only his mouth, which,
stern though it was, was full of humour, seemed unfamiliar. His eyes
were a wonderful deep blue, and his skin bronzed and burned with the
Egyptian sun. A momentary bitterness possessed Reist. The people of
Theos would care little for the brains which this man might lack. The
first glance of him would be sufficient. They would shout him King
till they were hoarse.

"You do not remember me, then?" Reist asked, softly.

Erlito stood swinging his racquet lightly in his fingers, and looked
into his visitor's face with pleasant and deferential courtesy.

"Do you know," he said, "I am very sorry, but I am afraid that I do
not. I have a very bad memory for faces. There is something about
yours which seems to me familiar, but it comes from a long way back."

Reist smiled faintly.

"Yes," he said, "it comes indeed from a long way back. It comes from
our boyhood. I hope at least that you have not forgotten my name. I am
Nicholas of Reist."

A radiant smile broke across Erlito's face. He dropped his racquet and
held out both his hands.

"It is little Nick!" he cried. "By all that is wonderful it is little
Nick! Remember you? Why, we played soldiers together when we were
children. A thousand, thousand welcomes."

He wrung his visitor's hands. His eyes were very bright. He was
undoubtedly affected.

"I am glad that you have not forgotten those days," Reist murmured.
"As children we were together day by day. Yet it is very long ago, and
for you at least," he continued, "there have been so many great
happenings."

"It is splendid of you to have found me out," Erlito cried. "I
imagined that no one knew even of my existence. And Marie?"

"My sister is quite well," Reist answered. "I had forgotten for the
moment that she too was once your playmate. It is so long ago."

"She is with you in London? You are living here, perhaps?" Erlito
asked. "It is the most hospitable city in the world."

Reist shook his head.

"There is only one home for us," he answered. "I do not love strange
cities."

"You mean----"

"Theos!"

Erlito's face clouded suddenly over. He glanced uneasily behind him.
His face became graver, his expression resolved itself into sterner
lines. A sudden bitterness found its way into his tone. The mention of
Theos had stung him.

"The Republic tolerates aristocrats, then," he remarked. "You are
fortunate."

Reist drew himself up.

"The Republic," he answered, proudly, "would never dare to interfere
with us. While the people of Theos remain, we of Reist are safe."

There was a momentary pause. Reist was conscious that his impetuous
speech was scarcely a happy one. For it was this man indeed who was
the outcast--whose name even had become strange to the people over
whom his forefathers had ruled. Erlito showed no resentment, but his
eyes were very sorrowful.

"Your family," he said, slowly, "have always been patriots. You
deserve well of your country people."

Reist glanced once more around the room.

"My visit to you," he said, "is not one of courtesy--nay, let me say
affection, only. I have a weighty matter to discuss with you. Will you
allow me to outstay your guests?"

"With all the pleasure in the world," Erlito answered, heartily. "I
should indeed insist upon it."

"You will perhaps continue your--game," Reist suggested, with another
glance towards the net. "My time is yours."

Erlito hesitated.

"You are very good, Nicholas," he said. "We are, as you see, playing
Badminton, and as a matter of fact we are very much in earnest about
this game. Miss Van Decht and I are playing the deciding match with my
friends there, Hassen and Brand. Let me find you a chair, and present
you to these good people. Afterwards--it will not be long--I shall be
wholly at your service; and, Nicholas, if you please, I am Erlito only
here. You understand?"

Reist assented gravely, and Erlito turned round. The two players were
talking to the girl across the net. An elderly man with grey imperial
and smoking a long cigar was leaning back in a deck-chair.

"Miss Van Decht," Erlito said, turning to her, "will you permit me to
present to you my very old friend, the Duke Nicholas of Reist--Miss
Van Decht, Mr. Van Decht, Mr. Hassen, Mr. Brand."

Reist bowed low before the girl, who looked straight into his
eyes with a frank and pleasant curiosity. She was largely made,
but the long flowing lines of her figure were perfectly and
symmetrically graceful. Her features were delicate, but her mouth was
delightful--large, shapely and sensitive. Her light brown hair, which
showed a disposition to wave, had escaped bounds a little during the
violent exercise and had fallen into picturesque disorder. She smiled
charmingly at Reist, but said nothing beyond the conventional words
of greeting. Then she looked up at Erlito with twinkling eyes.

"Mr. Brand is getting insupportable," she declared. "He is like all
you obstinate Englishmen. He does not know when he is beaten."

"We will endeavour," Erlito said, taking up his racquet, "to impress
it upon him. There are cigarettes by your side, Reist."

The girl went to her place at the end of the court.

"This must be the deciding game," she declared, "for the light is
going, and dad is smoking his last cigar. Ready! Serve!"

The game recommenced. Reist sat upon an overturned box by the side of
Mr. Van Decht smoking a cigarette and watching gravely the flying
figures. It was the girl who absorbed most of his attention. To him
she was an utterly new type. She was as beautiful in her way as his
own sister, but her frank energy and the easy terms of intimacy which
obviously existed between her male companions and herself was wholly
inexplicable to him. He watched her with fascinated gaze. All the
beautiful women whom he had ever known had numbered amongst their
characteristics a certain restraint, almost an aloofness, which he had
come to look upon as their inevitable attribute. Their smiles were
rare and precious marks of favour, an undisturbed serenity of
deportment was almost an inherent part of their education. Here was a
woman of the new world, no less to be respected, he was sure, than her
sisters of Theos, Vienna, and St. Petersburg, yet viewing life from a
wholly different standpoint. From the first there was something
curiously fascinating to Reist in the perfect naturalness and
self-assurance of the girl whose every thought and energy seemed
centred just then upon that flying cork. Her lips were slightly
parted, her eyes were bright, her face was full of colour and
vivacity. She sprang backwards and forwards, jumped and stooped with
the delightful freedom of perfect health and strength. She even joined
in the chaff which flashed backwards and forwards across the net,
good-humoured always, and gay, but always personal and indicating a
more than common intimacy between the little party. Reist would have
been quite content to have sat and watched her until the game was
over, but for a sudden, and to him amazing, incident. At a critical
moment Erlito missed a difficult stroke--the younger and slighter of
his two opponents threw his racquet into the air with a curious little
cry of triumph.

"Ho-e-la! Ho-e-la!"

Reist started almost to his feet, and the blood surged hotly in his
veins. Where had he heard that cry before? He looked the man over with
a swift and eager scrutiny. Olive-cheeked, with black eyes and
moustache, slightly-hooked nose and light, graceful bearing, he might
have belonged to any of the southern nations. He was certainly no
Englishman. "Ho-e-la! Ho-e-la!" How the fever of hate was kindled in
Reist's heart as the echoes of that cry rang through the room. His
memory, too, was swift and vivid. No longer he sat in that bare attic
watching the flying figures of the Badminton players and listening to
their cheerful badinage. Walls enclosed him no more. He saw out over
the sea and land, he saw things the memory of which still thrilled his
pulses, tugged at his heart-strings. Over the snow-capped hills he
rode, wrapped in military furs, his sabre clanking by his side and a
storm of stinging sleet driven into his face. Below were lights
flashing in a white wilderness--amongst the hills flared the red fire
of the guns, the music of their thunders was even then upon his ears.
Down the steep defile he rode at the head of his troop, the sound of
their approach muffled by the deep snow--afterwards the roar of
meeting, the breathless excitement of the charge, the deep battle-cry
of the men of Theos and from those others--ah, he had it now.

"Ho-e-la! Ho-e-la! Allah! Allah!"

A cry of triumph. The game was over. Sara Van Decht threw herself into
a chair between her father and him and fanned herself vigorously with
a pocket-handkerchief. The others were laughing and talking amongst
themselves. Erlito came over at once to her side.

"Miss Van Decht," he cried, gaily, "we are invincible. You played
magnificently. Reist, we are going to have some tea, and then I shall
be at your service. Why, our tussle seems to have interested you."

Reist withdrew his eyes reluctantly from watching Hassen. He smiled
faintly.

"Yes," he said. "New things are always interesting! New things--and
old friends!"




CHAPTER IV


Afternoon tea was brought in by an elderly man-servant in plain
livery, and was probably the most unconventional meal which Reist had
ever shared. They sat about promiscuously upon chairs and overturned
boxes, and there was a good deal of lively conversation. Brand was a
newspaper man, who had served as war correspondent with Erlito in the
Egyptian campaign, Mr. Van Decht and his daughter were rich Americans,
loitering about Europe. Hassen remained silent, and of him Reist
learned nothing further. The little which he knew sufficed.

Brand came over and sat by Reist's side. He was a tall, fair man, with
keen eyes and weather-beaten skin--by no means unlike Erlito, save
that his shoulders were not so broad, and he lacked the military
carriage.

"I am interested in your country, Duke," he said. "You are making
history there. It seems to me that it may become European history."

"Theos has fallen upon evil times," Reist answered. "All that we pray
of Europe is that we may be left alone. If that be granted us we shall
right ourselves."

Sara Van Decht looked across at him with frank interest.

"Do you come from Theos, Duke?" she asked.

Reist bowed.

"I have lived there all my life," he said, "and I know it better than
any other place.

"It is a very beautiful country," he continued, "and very dear to its
people. To strangers, though, and specially you who have been brought
up in America, I must confess that we should probably seem outside the
pale of civilization."

"Tell me why," she asked. "What are you so backward in?"

"Luxuries," he answered. "We have no electric light."

"It is detestable," she exclaimed.

"No street cars."

"They are abominable!"

Reist smiled quietly.

"We have scarcely any railways," he said, "and the telephone is rare
enough to be a curiosity."

She laughed back at him, and gave her empty cup to Brand.

"Primitivism," she declared, "is quite the most delightful thing in
the world. Then your politics, too, must be most exciting. You have
revolutions, and that sort of thing, do you not?"

"I do not understand you, Miss Van Decht," he said, quietly. "Will you
not tell me what you mean?"

"The papers are all so vague," she answered, "but one gathers that
Theos is in a state of political unrest. I believe in South America
they would call that a revolution."

Reist's eyes flashed fire. A faint smile flickered upon Hassen's lips.

"There is not any comparison," he said, haughtily, "any possible
comparison, between the affairs of one of the most ancient and
historical countries in Europe and the mushroom States of South
America. Theos, it is true, has made mistakes, and she will suffer for
them--she is suffering now."

"The Republic, for example," Hassen remarked, quietly.

"Theos," Reist answered, "is a country in which the Republican
instinct is as yet unborn. Her sons are homely and brave, tillers of
the soil, or soldiers. We have few cities to corrupt, and very little
attempt at the education which makes shopkeepers and anarchists of
honest men. Perhaps that is why we have kept our independence. Ay,
kept it, although hemmed in with false friends and open enemies."

Reist spoke with fervour, a fire in his dark eyes, a note of passion
vibrating in his slow tones. The girl especially watched him with keen
interest. To her all this was new and incredible. She was used to men
to whom self-restraint was amongst the cardinal virtues, to the
patriotism of torchlight processions and fire-crackers. This was all
so different, it was as though some one had turned back for her the
pages of history.... Reist surely was not of this generation? Erlito
had averted his face, Hassen was busy lighting a cigarette, Mr. Van
Decht was as bewildered as his daughter. Yet Reist's words, in a way,
had moved all of them. It was Hassen who answered.

"If the Republican instinct," he remarked, quietly, "is as yet unborn
in Theos, whence the banishment of the Tyrnaus family, and the
establishment of a Republican government?"

Reist turned full upon him, and his eyes were like the eyes of an
angry lion.

"Maurice of Tyrnaus," he said, "was one of the degenerates of a noble
race. I say no more against one whom, if alive, I should still
acknowledge as my King."

Hassen shrugged his shoulders.

"You are a long way from Theos, Count," he remarked, pointedly. "You
took, I presume, the oath of allegiance to the Republic when it was
formed?"

"That is a false saying," Reist answered, scornfully. "I neither took
the oath nor recognized the government."

"Yet they allowed you to remain in the capital city?" Hassen asked.

"There was no one," Reist answered, "who would have dared to bid me
depart. Of the ancient nobility of Theos we alone remain, alas, close
dwellers in our native country. Else Metzger had been hung in the
market-place with short shrift--he a merchant, a trafficker in coin,
who dared to sit in the ancient Council House of Theos and weave his
cursed treason. And listen, sir," he continued, turning abruptly upon
Hassen. "You would know whence sprang that evil weed of a Republic! I
will tell you. It was the work of foreign spies working with foreign
gold amongst the outcasts and scum of Theos. It was not the choice of
the people. It was the word of sedition, of cunning bribery, the vile
underhand efforts of foreign politicians seeking to weaken by
treachery a country they dared not, small though it is, provoke to
battle."

There followed a strange, tense silence. No one thought of
interruption. They held their breath and waited. The conversation
which had started harmlessly enough had become a duel. The grim shadow
of tragedy seemed suddenly to have stalked in amongst them. Hassen
sprang to his feet, livid, his coal-black eyes on fire. Reist was
facing him, his head thrown back, passionate, contemptuous, bitter.
With a swift, threatening gesture he threw out his arm towards his
adversary.

"Hassen Bey," he said, "my private enemies I meet under the roof of my
friends, and courtesy demands that I hold my peace and pass on. The
enemies of my country I denounce at all times, and in all places. You
are a Turkish spy, one of those of whom I have been speaking, who
sought the hospitality of Theos only to scatter gold amongst the
common people to plot and intrigue for your master, the Sultan. Oh, I
know that you are also a soldier and a brave man, for I have met you
face to face in battle, and may God grant that I do so again. Yet you
are a spy and a treacherous rogue, and I am very thankful that I have
come here to tell you so, and to order you to leave this roof."

Hassen had recovered himself. He turned to Erlito.

"The Duke of Reist," he said, quietly, "is a friend of yours. Perhaps
it is better that I should go. I regret very much to have been the
passive cause of such an outbreak. Miss Van Decht, you will accept my
apologies."

Erlito was very grave. He did not seem to see the hand which Hassen
held out to him.

"Hassen," he said, "we have been friends, but I do not understand
these things which the Duke of Reist has said of you. You have spoken
of yourself as a Frenchman--of Theos or of Turkey I have heard
nothing. Have you any explanation to offer?"

Hassen shrugged his shoulders lightly.

"My dear Erlito," he said, "the Duke of Reist is an honest man,
but--he will forgive me--he is an anachronism. He should have lived
two centuries ago--or, better still, he would have made an excellent
crusader. The necessities of modern diplomacy are unknown to him. He
has passed all his days in a semi-civilized country. He is not a
fitting judge of the things which happen to-day."

A sudden lightning flashed in Erlito's blue eyes. He drew himself to
his full height, and pointed towards the door.

"That semi-civilized country, sir, is mine also, and if you are one of
those who have sought to corrupt it, I beg that you will leave this
room while you may with a whole skin. At once, sir!"

The imperturbability of the man was clearly disturbed. He looked at
Erlito in amazement. The face of Nicholas of Reist shone with joy.

"Your country?" Hassen repeated, incredulously. "What have you to do
with Theos?"

Erlito hesitated--not so Reist. He stepped forward, and the leaping
firelight threw a strange glow upon his pale, mobile features.

"After all," he cried to Hassen, "it seems that you are but a poor
fool of a conspirator. I will do you an honour which you ill deserve.
I will present you to his Royal Highness, Prince Ughtred, of Tyrnaus."

"Gracious!"

The single monosyllable--from Sara Van Decht--was the only speech
which broke the amazed silence. She was leaning forward in her chair,
gazing eagerly at the three men, her beautiful eyes eloquent with
excitement--a crown of fire gleaming in her brown-gold hair. No one
noticed her. Hassen, who had regained his composure, but in whose face
was written a deep self-disgust, moved towards the door. With his
fingers upon the handle he paused and looked back at the little group.

"You are both," he said, in a low tone, "a little hard upon a soldier,
and a servant of the Sultan, with whom obedience is forced to become
an instinct. Of that--no more. But there is one thing which you may
call me as often and as thoroughly as you will, for it is as true as
the Koran, that I am an absolute--a blind fool!"

He passed out, and they heard him singing for the lift. Sara Van Decht
looked up at Brand, who was sitting next to her. Her half-whispered
remark dissolved the situation.

"I suppose that we are all awake," she said. "I feel as though I
wanted to pinch myself to be sure of it."




CHAPTER V


"And what has brought you to London, Nicholas, my friend?" Erlito
asked. "Is it pleasure, or you have perhaps a mission to the English
Government?"

It was the great moment. Reist, too restless to sit down, stood upon
the hearthrug, the angry fire lingering in his eyes, a spot of dull
colour burning still in his cheeks. He had not yet got over the shock
of finding one of the men he most hated and despised in life a guest
in this house of all others.

"Pleasure," he repeated, thoughtfully. "People would call me a
fanatic, yet nevertheless, Ughtred, this is the truth. There is no
pleasure for me outside my country. The life of the European capitals
chokes me. There is a tawdriness about them all, something artificial
and unreal. I do not know how to describe it, but it is there--in
Petersburg, in Paris, in London and Vienna. It is like a gigantic
depression. I seem to become in them a puppet, a shadow walking across
a great stage. Always I am longing to be back in Theos--in Theos where
the winds blow down from the hills, and the faces of the men and women
in the streets are clean with health. Ah, my friend, I know what you
would say. The great cities, too, with their factories and huge
buildings which shut out the sky, they are part of God's earth. The
smoke which stains the heavens comes from the making of useful and
beautiful things. Yet I watch my peasants tilling their little farms,
tending their hillside vineyards, without luxuries, without knowledge
of luxuries, ever light-hearted, contented, strong and healthy as
children of the earth should be. The love of that little strip of land
of theirs is the keynote of their patriotism. It is a passion, a joy
to them. Oh, do you wonder that I think these things are best!"

Erlito's eyes were full of sympathy. His head sank upon his folded
arms. His thoughts travelled backwards. It was so many years ago, yet
he could remember.

"Listen, Nicholas," he said. "I have travelled much more than you. I
have been in many strange countries and seen life under many strange
conditions. But all the while there has been a pain in my heart. I
have found no home. I, too, love Theos! There will come a day when no
sentence of banishment will keep me away."

Reist looked up. The moment had come.

"That day," he said, "may be nearer than you think. Ughtred, I have
left Theos on no slight business. I am here with a mission, and my
mission is to you!"

Erlito's eyes were full of questioning wonder.

"The accursed Republic," Reist continued, "has fallen like a pack of
cards. There is panic in the city and throughout the country. Theos
knows now that she has been deceived and misguided, that she has been
brought to the very verge of ruin. The Powers no longer continue to
assure her of their protection. A sovereign and a Tyrnaus had ever a
claim upon them, not so this bastard and bungling Republic. The city
is full of Russian spies, the Austrians watch us night and day, the
Turks are creeping up even to the Balkans. Rumours of partition have
reached us from the great Cabinets. Ughtred of Tyrnaus, there is only
one man to-day who can save the country, and that man is you."

Erlito dropped his pipe, and leaned forward in his chair.

"Are you mocking me, Reist?" he asked.

"May God forbid," Reist answered, fervently, "that I should speak idle
words upon such a subject. The people of Theos are still brave and
true, and their freedom is as dear to them as life itself. They came
to me, who for long have lived apart, and I have shown them what I
truthfully believe to be their only chance of salvation. You are that
chance, Ughtred. The throne of your fathers is yours if you will have
it. A brave man can seize it, and a brave man can hold it in the teeth
of all Europe, and by your God and for the sake of the blood which is
in your veins, Ughtred of Tyrnaus, I summon you to return with me to
Theos."

Erlito rose slowly up. His cheeks were flushed with excitement.
Reist's appeal had moved him deeply.

"You mean this?" he said. "You mean that you bring me this message
from the people of Theos?"

Reist raised his hand solemnly.

"I mean that on their behalf I, Nicholas of Reist, than whom none has
a better right to speak for their country, offer you the crown of
Theos."

Erlito walked restlessly up and down the little study into which he
had brought his visitor.

"We of Tyrnaus," he said, "are under sentence of perpetual exile."

"It was the illegal sentence of an illegal assembly," Reist answered.
"The voice of the people has revoked it. They bid you forget all else
save that your native land looks to you in her hour of trouble.
Listen. It is no rose-strewn way along which you will pass to your
inheritance. There will be no popular reception, no grand ceremony. We
must travel day and night to Theos, secretly, perhaps even in
disguise. You must be crowned King in the Palace the moment we arrive
there. Secretly I have already called together the army, for the
moment the news is known there will be a storm. There are Russians and
Austrian secret agents in Theos, each working for their own ends. They
believe that I have gone to Vienna and Petersburg to beg for the
intercession of the Powers. Meanwhile the Turkish dogs are creeping up
the Balkans. They are gathered around our country, Ughtred, like
wreckers waiting for the ship to break up. It is for you to steer that
ship into safe waters."

There was a long silence. Erlito was standing with his elbow upon the
mantelpiece, looking into the fire. In his heart were many emotions,
in his face a strange light. A new world had been opened up before
him. He saw great things moving across the vista of the future. No
longer then need he brood over an empty life, or bewail the idle sword
of a gentleman of fortune. Here was stuff enough to make a dozen
careers, a future, successful or unsuccessful, more brilliant than
anything else which he could have conceived. But Reist, who failed to
read his companion's thoughts, was troubled. This prolonged silence
was inexplicable to him.

"You do not hesitate?" he asked at last.

Erlito laughed and drew himself up.

"You must not think so ill of me as that, Nicholas," he answered.
"Nay, there was no thought of hesitation in my mind. I accept--gladly,
thankfully. Only you must know this. Of soldiering I have learnt a
little, and nothing would make me happier than to lead the men of
Theos into battle. But of statesmanship I know little, and of
kingcraft nothing at all. You must find me faithful advisers. You
yourself must stand at my right hand."

Then Nicholas of Reist drew a long breath, and the cloud passed away
from his face.

"There are still many faithful citizens," he said, "whom we can rally
around us, and I myself--I live only for Theos. Let me tell you this,
for it will give you confidence. It is a soldier for whom the people
are pining. They want no more merchants in high places. They shall see
you, Ughtred of Tyrnaus, in the uniform of their Guards. They shall
hear you give the word of command, they will shout you King--ay, they
will take you into their hearts, this people."

So the hands of the two met in a long, fervent clasp. Erlito embraced
his destiny, and Reist set the seal upon his renunciation.

       *       *       *       *       *

A King! As Ughtred fastened his white tie before the tiny mirror
upon his dressing-case those lines at the corner of his mouth gave
way. He suddenly burst out laughing. A King! The incongruity of the
thing tickled his sense of humour--he laughed long and heartily. He
looked around him. His bedchamber was tiny, and he had only been
able to afford furniture of the cheapest description. He looked at
the plain rush carpet, the swords and foils which were almost his
sole decoration upon the walls, the humble appointments of his
dressing-table. Everything was scrupulously neat and clean, stern and
soldier-like in simplicity. What a change was before him. From here to
the royal palace of Theos, where a chamberlain would wait upon him
with bended knee, and the small etiquette of a Court would hamper his
every movement. The last few years passed in swift review before him.
He had lived always like a gentleman, but always with a certain amount
of rigid self-denial necessitated by his small income. He had few
acquaintances and fewer friends. The luxury of a West-End club had
been denied to him--fencing and long walks were almost his sole
relaxation. All that he had had to hope for was the breaking out of
some small war in any corner of the world, when his sword and military
experience might give him a chance to follow his profession. He was,
if anything, deficient in imagination, but he had humour enough and to
spare. He laughed softly as he donned his carefully-folded and
well-worn dress-coat, and reflected that this was perhaps the last
dinner which he would eat in such garments with companions of his own
choosing. It was surely a strange turn in the wheel of fortune.




CHAPTER VI


"I think your friend the Duke of Reist is a very interesting man,"
Sara Van Decht remarked, "but as a dinner companion he's just a little
depressing. I wonder what father and he will find to talk about."

Ughtred laughed. They had just come out from the restaurant, to find
the great hall almost full. Reist and Mr. Van Decht were sitting a
little apart from them.

"Reist is a very good fellow," Ughtred declared, "but just now he is
not very much in the humour for gaiety. He is passionately attached to
his country, and Theos, alas, is passing through a very anxious time
in her history. No, you must not judge him by his demeanour to-night.
I had much difficulty in persuading him to accept your father's
invitation."

She nodded sympathetically.

"Has he come over to obtain aid from England?" she asked. "From the
papers this morning it seems as though one of the Powers would have to
interfere and straighten things out."

Ughtred looked down with grave, steadfast eyes into the girl's
upturned face. It was time for him to tell her. How ridiculous it
would sound. She would probably laugh at him.

"Reist came to England," he said, "to find me."

She looked at him in mild wonder.

"You! But you are no longer interested in Theos, are you?"

He sighed.

"I have been an exile for many years," he said, "and Theos has come to
mean little else to me save a beautiful memory. Yet I have never
forgotten that she is my native country. I am never likely to forget
it."

"Do you hope ever to return?" she asked.

"I hope to be in Theos within a week," he answered. "I am returning
with Reist."

She looked up at him startled, but deeply interested.

"You mean it?" she cried. "Oh, tell me!"

"You have read of the downfall of the Republic," he continued. "Reist
assures me that the people will never tolerate another. They speak
already of a King, and, Miss Van Decht--you must not laugh, please--I
am the only surviving member of the royal family of Theos."

She gasped.

"You are to be King!" she exclaimed.

"The people have sent for me," he answered, simply. "Of course there
are difficulties, and after all it may not come to pass. Still, the
crown is mine by right, and I am going to strike a blow for it. We
leave for Theos to-morrow."

"A King! To-morrow!" she repeated, vaguely.

She was bereft of words. Ughtred laughed nervously.

"Miss Van Decht," he said, "it isn't altogether a prospect of
fairyland. There are many things to be given up. There are many things
which a man may possess but a King can only covet. I have become
somewhat of a Bohemian in my wanderings, and my freedom is very dear
to me. Yet I think that I am doing right in making this attempt. I
love Theos, and it will be a joy to fight her battles. I love the old
city and the mountains and the wild country. I may not be a patriot
like Nicholas of Reist, but the old war music seems to leap and burn
in my blood when I think of the Turks creeping nearer and nearer to
the frontier, and our ancient city full of foreign spies, gathered
together like carrion birds before the massacre. It is intolerable!"

She was thoughtful and sympathetic.

"Yes," she said, softly; "it is right that you should feel like that.
Ours is a new country, and there is nothing about her beautiful or
historic. Yet, if she were in danger--oh, yes, I understand. You are
right to go. May you be successful!"

A crash of martial music from the band filled the air with ringing
melody, and for a moment they sat silent. Ughtred took up his as yet
unlit cigarette, and Sara sipped her coffee. Around them were little
groups of men and brilliantly-dressed women. The pleasant hum of
conversation and light laughter came to them with something of an
inspiring ring. Down the broad promenade two men were walking. Sara
touched her companion on the arm with her fan.

"Look!" she whispered.

Ughtred recognized Hassen with a frown, and his companion with a
sudden thrill of interest. They were coming slowly down from the
restaurant, talking earnestly together, and by the side of the tall,
distinguished-looking man, who was listening to him with so
inscrutable a countenance, Hassen appeared almost insignificant.
Nicholas of Reist, who had moved from his chair to fetch an evening
paper, met them face to face. He would have passed on with a
contemptuous glance at Hassen, but that the older man turned and
accosted him with grave yet pleasant courtesy.

"The Duke of Reist is far from home! This is indeed a surprising
meeting."

Reist started as he recognized the speaker. He cast a single
lightning-like glance at Hassen, who lingered by.

"It is as welcome as surprising," Reist answered, quietly. "I had
promised myself the pleasure of paying my respects at the Embassy
to-morrow."

"You will not, I trust, let anything interfere with so amiable an
intention," was the suave reply. "You and I should have much to say to
each other, Reist. You have a vacant chair here, I see. Will you allow
me to take my coffee with you?"

"I shall be much honoured," Reist answered, quietly. "As you say,
there is much which we might discuss. Will you permit me to introduce
you to my friends?"

The faintest indication of surprise was followed by a murmur of
delighted assent. Hassen, perplexed and white with anger, moved away.
The two men threaded the little maze of chairs and palm trees and
women's skirts, and reached the corner where Sara and Ughtred sat.
Reist gravely performed the introduction.

"Miss Van Decht, will you allow me to present to you the Prince Alexis
of Ollendirk, Miss Van Decht--Mr. Van Decht. Ughtred, I am sure you
two should know one another. Prince Alexis of Ollendirk, Ughtred of
Tyrnaus."

The Prince, who had bowed low and gracefully to Sara, held out his
hand frankly to Ughtred.

"To number Tyrnaus amongst one's acquaintances," he said, "has been an
honour for centuries. I knew your father, Prince Ughtred. His Majesty
was always very good to me. The Gold Star of Theos is amongst the most
treasured of my possessions."

More coffee was ordered by Mr. Van Decht, and cigarettes. A measured
and somewhat curious conversation followed. The Russian Ambassador
talked to Sara chiefly. Ughtred seemed to interest him only as a
pleasantly-met acquaintance. They exchanged views on Paris and Vienna,
and Prince Alexis pleaded eloquently for the charms of his own city.
With consummate skill he led the conversation to Theos.

"The most picturesque country in Europe," he declared, "to-day I fear
the most unfortunate. You see, Mr. Van Decht," he continued, turning
towards him, "it is not always that a great country can exist and be
developed upon democratic principles. Theos, under the royal House of
Tyrnaus, had at least a recognized place amongst the European States.
To-day she has lost it. Of her future--no man can speak with
certainty."

The Russian leaned back and lit a cigarette. Yet Reist felt that he
was being watched by those half-closed, sleepy eyes. He leaned a
little forward and lowered his voice.

"I am a man of Theos, bred and born," he said, slowly, "and the
future of my country is as my own future. I am not in this bastard
government, as you doubtless know, Prince Alexis, but I have the
confidence of the people. They have come to me for counsel, they have
asked me how best they can secure their continued independence. It is
a great emergency this, and since we have met here I am venturing to
ask for your advice. You have a precise knowledge of the situation,
you know the country, the people, our environment. How best do you
think that I could answer them?"

The Russian smoked thoughtfully for a moment. In the little clouds of
blue smoke which hung about his head he seemed to be seeking for
inspiration. Was this simplicity, he wondered, or had Reist indeed a
hidden purpose in seeking to make him declare himself?

"It is not an easy question which you ask, my friend," he answered at
last. "Yet, after all, I doubt whether more than one course is open to
those who would direct the destinies of your country. Theos is a weak
State hemmed in by powerful ones. She is to-day the certain prey of
whomever might stretch out his hand--even her ancient enemy the Turk.
So, after all, it is not difficult to offer you good advice. I would
say to you this: Let her seek out the strongest, the most generous of
those environing Powers, and say to her frankly, 'Give me your
protection,' and I believe that for the sake of peace her prayer would
be promptly answered."

Reist was silent. Ughtred, who had been listening intently,
interposed.

"The advice," he said, "sounds well, but it seems to me to have one
weak point. It is her independence which Theos seeks above all things
to retain. The protection of any one Power must surely jeopardize
this."

"By no means," Prince Alexis answered, blandly. "Let us take my own
country for example. Russia is great enough and generous enough to
befriend a weakened state without any question of a _quid pro quo_. A
love of peace is the one great passion which sways my master in all
his dealings. For the sake of it he would do more even than this."

"The Czar does not stand alone," Reist remarked, thoughtfully. "He has
many advisers."

"To whom he listens," Prince Alexis answered, "when it pleases him. It
is said in this country, yes, and in others, that the Czar is a
puppet. We who know only smile. For, my dear Reist, it is true that
there has not reigned in Europe for many years a greater autocrat than
he who sits on the throne of Russia to-day. But to return to the
subject of Theos. Your danger seems to me to lie here. Supposing that
the present state of disquiet continues, or any form of government be
set up which does not seem to promise permanent stability. Then it is
very likely that those stronger countries by whom Theos is surrounded
may, in the general interests of peace, deem it their duty to
interfere."

"Theos," Reist said, proudly, "is not yet a moribund State. She has an
army, and at the first hint of invasion all political differences
would cease."

Prince Alexis smiled, and raised his tiny glass of liqueur.

"Floreat Theos!" he said, lightly. "Long may she continue to retain
her independence--and to know her friends."

They all raised their glasses. From Reist came a whisper, little more
than a breath--

"Long live the King!"




CHAPTER VII


Prince Alexis made the toast the signal for his departure, murmuring
something about a diplomatic reception which his duty forbade him to
ignore. In the lobby Hassen brushed up against him.

"A word with your Highness outside," he murmured.

The Ambassador signified assent by a scarcely-noticeable gesture. He
lit a cigarette and leisurely buttoned his fur coat. A swift glance
towards the little party in the corner showed him that Reist was
missing.

"You had better slip into my carriage quietly," he said to Hassen.
"Our good friend the Duke of Reist is on the lookout somewhere, and it
would be better that he did not see us together."

Hassen nodded, and preceded the Ambassador, who lingered to speak to
some acquaintance. In a few moments he followed, pausing with his foot
upon the carriage steps as though to re-light his cigarette. He looked
quickly up and down the pavement. At the corner of Pall Mall and the
Haymarket a man was standing with his face half turned in their
direction. He shrugged his shoulders and entered the carriage.

"The Duke of Reist is interested," he remarked to Hassen. "Come, my
friend, what have you to say?"

"First of all, then," Hassen began, "your bribe to Metzger was large,
but you will never get your money's worth. You have worked hard for
the political disruption of Theos. It may chance that you have failed
utterly."

The Ambassador nodded pleasantly.

"Possibly," he admitted. "I do not quite follow you, though. Metzger
has been chased from the country. There is no government, no law, no
order. The Powers cannot permit this to continue. A protectorship will
be proposed within a week."

"It will be four days too late," Hassen answered. "In less time than
that Theos will occupy a stronger position politically than ever
before."

"You surprise me," the Ambassador admitted, politely.

"Do you think that the Duke of Reist is the sort of man to be dining
at London restaurants whilst his country bleeds to death!" Hassen
exclaimed. "Bah! His presence here with Ughtred of Tyrnaus to-night is
no chance affair. There is a deep scheme on, and broadly I have
fathomed it."

"Yes?"

"Theos has had enough of Republics. She is going to try a King. It is
Reist himself who put the idea into their heads. He has come as the
envoy of the people to Ughtred of Tyrnaus."

"That," the Ambassador remarked, "will not do at all."

"You think so, knowing nothing of Ughtred of Tyrnaus. I know him well,
and if you wish Theos to become a Russian province he is the very man
in Europe to baulk you. He is brave, shrewd, patriotic, and a fine
soldier. If he ever reaches Theos the people will worship him. He will
make order out of chaos. He will hold the reins and he will be proof
against the wiles of your agents. Short of absolute force you will not
be able to dislodge him."

"He must not reach Theos," the Ambassador said, thoughtfully. "The
man's very physique will win him the throne ... and I believe that you
are right. The House of Tyrnaus has never been friendly towards
Russia. What will your master say, Hassen?"

The man smiled grimly.

"Do we want a soldier King in Theos?" he asked, "when our soldiers are
creeping northwards to the Balkans day by day? You are ready to seize
by intrigue and by stealth--we are preparing to strike a blow of
another sort."

The Ambassador smiled. The Turkish soldiers were brave enough, but in
Constantinople at that moment was a Russian envoy on secret business,
who had very definite instructions as to the occupation of Theos. It
is possible, however, that Prince Alexis had forgotten the fact, for
he did not mention it.

"At least," he said, "one thing is clear. Ughtred of Tyrnaus must be
delayed."

Hassen shrugged his shoulders. The gesture was expressive.

"It will be worth--say five thousand pounds to you," the Ambassador
remarked, carelessly, "to make sure of it."

Hassen nodded and stepped out of the carriage. They had drawn up
before one of the embassies, and his arrival with Prince Alexis was
not a thing to be advertised.

"I shall do my best," he said, slipping away in the crowd.

       *       *       *       *       *

"Why, yes, I shall miss you. Isn't that natural?"

"I hope so," he answered. "I shall never forget these days." She
laughed gaily. The music was playing something very soft and low.
Reist had not yet reappeared.

"Isn't that a little rash, my friend? You love experiences, and you
are going to enter upon a very wonderful life. You are much to be
envied."

"Sara," he said, "you must come to Theos."

She laughed outright in frank and unrestrained merriment.

"You must talk to father," she said. "I dare say he will come. He
loves new countries. Only I'm sure he won't behave properly at Court.
He's a terrible democrat, and he likes to shake hands with everybody."

"He shall shake hands with me as often as he likes," Ughtred said.
"You must remember, Sara, that royalty in Theos is not exactly like
royalty in this country. Why, my whole domain is not so large as some
English counties. I mean to go about my kingdom exactly like a private
individual. Come to Theos, and we will play racquets in the throne
room."

She shook her head.

"The smaller the kingdom, as a rule," she said, "the more
circumstance and etiquette surround the Court. I do not think that you
will be allowed to play racquets in the throne room, or to shake hands
very often with a Chicago stock-jobber, even though he is my father.
We shall come and gaze upon you from afar."

"So long as you will come," he replied, confidently, "we will see
about the rest. Do you know, Sara, it would almost spoil everything if
I felt that this change in my life were to disturb--our friendship."

She drew a long palm leaf through her fingers and let it fall
regretfully. It was cool and pleasant to the touch. A violin, hidden
somewhere amongst the waving green, sent strange notes of melody out
through the court, and a little man, bravely dressed in scarlet and
yellow, bobbed up and down over his instrument. The girl was
thinking--wondering! It was so sudden a change, this. Ughtred Erlito
had been a delightful friend--but Ughtred of Tyrnaus! It was so
strange a transition. She kept her eyes fixed upon the marble floor,
and her heart beat for a moment or two to the sad music of the wailing
violin. Then she sprang to her feet--the folly had passed. With one
sudden movement one of the little ornaments hanging from her bracelet
became detached and rolled away. Ughtred recovered it, and would have
fastened it upon the gold wire, but she stopped him.

"It is my four-leaved clover," she said. "See, I shall give it to you.
May it bring you good fortune. Floreat Theos!"

He held it in his palm--a dainty ornament set with diamonds and
quaintly shaped.

"Do you mean it?" he asked.

"Why, of course," she answered. "If it is not exactly a coronation
present, it will at least help to remind you--of the days before you
were a King."

"I need no trinkets to remind me of some things," he answered,
quietly, "but Theos will give me nothing which I shall prize more than
this. I shall keep it, too, as a pledge of your promise. You will come
to Theos?"

"Yes, I will come," she answered.

Nicholas of Reist was by their side, dark, almost saturnine in his
black evening clothes and tie. His presence had a chilling effect upon
them both. Sara rose to her feet.

"Will you see if you can find father?" she said to Ughtred. "He was
talking to some Americans who went into the restaurant."

He moved away. She turned quickly to Reist.

"I wanted to ask you," she said. "You live in Theos, and you can give
me an idea. What is there that I can send Prince Ughtred for a
coronation present?"

"That is a very difficult question to answer," Reist said. "Will you
not be a little more explicit? A steam yacht would be a present, so
would a cigarette-case."

She nodded quickly.

"Yes! I should have explained. Money is of no consequence at all. I
had thought of a team of horses and a coach."

He was suddenly serious. He eyed the girl with a new curiosity. She
then was one of the daughters of this new world before whose golden
key every Court in Europe had yielded. She was of striking appearance,
perhaps beautiful, instinctively well bred. She might be destined to
play a part in the affairs of Theos.

"'Money is of no consequence at all,'" he repeated, thoughtfully. "We
are poor folk in Theos, Miss Van Decht, and we do not often hear such
words."

"Sometimes I think," she said, "that our wealth is our misfortune. Now
you understand, don't you? Prince Ughtred was very kind to us at Cairo
and on the voyage back, and we have seen quite a little of him in
London. I should like to give him something really useful. Please
suggest something."

"I will take you at your word then, Miss Van Decht," he answered.
"Send him a Maxim-Nordenfeld gun. If you want to be magnificent, send
him a battery."

She looked at him in amazement.

"Do you mean it?" she exclaimed.

"I do," he answered. "Prince Ughtred is a very keen soldier, and he is
never tired of praising these guns. For the first year or two at the
least we shall have troublous times, and a battery of maxims might
save all our lives and the throne. Theos has, alas, no money to spend
in artillery, though her soldiers are as brave as any in the world."

"Father and I will see about it to-morrow," she declared. "Hush! here
they come."

Ughtred was approaching with her father, and watching him it occurred
to her for the first time how well his new part in life would become
him. He was tall and broad, and he moved with the free, easy dignity
of a soldier accustomed to command.

"I have found your father," he said, "and your carriage is waiting. I
thought that if Reist would excuse me for half-an-hour----"

Reist interrupted him at once.

"You must not go away," he declared, earnestly. "Not for five minutes.
Believe me it is necessary."

"My dear fellow----" Ughtred protested.

"Is it possible," Reist exclaimed, with some impatience, "that you do
not recognize the great misfortune of this evening? I was wrong to
allow you to come--to be seen in London with you. Prince Alexis is
more than an ordinary ambassador. He is a born diplomatist, a true
Russian--he is one of the clique who to-day rule the country. With
Hassen's aid he has, without a doubt, surmised the purport of my visit
to you. By this time he is hard at work. Let me tell you that if he
can prevent it you will never set foot in Theos. There must be no more
delay. Come!"

Sarah held out her hand. Her eyes met his frankly.

"The Duke of Reist must be obeyed," she said. "I am sure that he is
right. Good-bye, Prince Ughtred! You are very fortunate, for you have
a great and noble work before you. May you succeed in it. I shall hope
and pray for your success."

A little abruptly she turned away and took her father's arm. The two
men watched them disappear--the little grey-headed man with his
ill-cut clothes, and hard, shrewd face, and the tall, graceful girl,
whose toilette was irreproachable, and whose carriage and bearing
moved even Reist to admiration. They passed down the carpeted way and
through the swing-doors. Then Reist touched his companion on the arm.

"It is half-past eleven," he said. "We are going to catch the twelve
o'clock train from Charing Cross."




CHAPTER VIII


The whistle sounded at last, the train began to glide slowly away from
the almost deserted platform. But at the last moment a man came
running through the booking-office, and made for one of the
compartments. He tugged at the handle, wrenched it open, and was
preparing for a flying leap when an inspector seized him. There was an
altercation, a violent struggle--the man was left upon the platform.
Reist drew a long breath of relief as he settled down in his corner.

"The way these things are managed in England," he said, "it is
excellent."

Ughtred shrugged his shoulders. Reist had been dumb for the last
half-hour, and he was puzzled.

"Will you tell me now," he asked, "the meaning of it all?"

"The meaning of it all is--Hassen!" Reist answered. "How long have you
known him?"

"We fought together in Abyssinia," Ughtred answered, "and I found him
always a capital soldier and a pleasant companion."

"Did you ever ask him where he learnt his soldiering?"

"Once--yes!"

"Did he tell you?"

"I do not think that he did. He told me frankly enough that he had no
past--that it was not to be referred to. There were others like that
in the campaign, men who had secrets to bury, men who sought
forgetfulness, even that forgetfulness which a bullet brings. We were
a strange company enough. But the fighting was good."

"And since then you have met him again in England?"

"I met him at a little fencing-academy six months ago, and since then
we have fenced together continually. But for your recognition of him I
should have written him down as harmless."

A spot of colour burned in Reist's cheek. He ground his heel into the
mat.

"Harmless! He! A Turk! A Russian spy! A double-dealing rogue. Sword in
hand I have chased him through the Kurdistan valley all one night, and
if I had caught him then Russia would have lost a tool and the Sultan
a traitorous soldier. He holds still, although an absentee, a high
command in the Turkish army, and all the while he is in the pay of
Russia. Prince Alexis knows of my mission to you by now, and if we
reach Theos we are lucky, for I do not think that a Tyrnaus upon the
throne of Theos would suit Russia at all."

"I may seem stupid," Ughtred said, seriously, "but it is necessary
that I should understand these things. Why should Russia object so
much to my reinstatement upon the throne of my fathers? Surely of all
the nations of Europe one would expect from her the least sympathy
with a democratic form of government."

"Russia is above all sympathies or antipathies," Reist answered,
bitterly. "She is the most self-centred, the most absolutely selfish
nation on earth. The present state of turmoil in Theos is owing
largely to the efforts of Muscovite secret agents. Russia desires a
weak Theos. She wants to stand behind the government and pull the
strings. It is she whom we have most to fear now."

Ughtred lit a cigar and leaned back in his corner. He was still in his
evening clothes, and he looked doubtfully at the window-panes
streaming with rain.

"Neither Russia nor her agents can interfere with us on neutral soil,"
he remarked. "I wish, Reist, that you had let me send for my bag. I
shall be a very dilapidated object by the time we reach the frontier."

"My wardrobe," Reist answered, "is at your service immediately we are
upon the boat. I am smaller than you, but I have some things which may
be useful. Now I will tell you something which will help to explain my
haste. When first I saw Hassen and Prince Alexis together I understood
that we must change our plans, and I sent for your bag. Your rooms
were then being watched front and back. My servant bribed a postman to
go to your door and ask for you. He discovered that a gentleman was
already in your rooms waiting for you. They are very much in earnest,
these people, my Prince. It will need all our wit to reach Theos."

"We will reach it, though," Ughtred said, softly. "We are on our
guard, and there can be no means of forcibly detaining us. In a
quarter of an hour we shall be at Dover."

Reist nodded. He was examining the chambers of a revolver which he had
drawn from the pocket of a loose ulster.

"Let us remember," he said, "to avoid all strangers and to speak to
no one unless compelled. We know nothing of Theos. We are returning to
Budapesth, and, Prince Ughtred, there is a revolver in the pocket of
your coat also, not for use but for show. We must not be led into a
disturbance with any one. Mind, it is the policy of every one to
detain us if once the object of our journey is known. In Germany we
shall not be safe, in Austria every moment will be perilous. But once
across the frontier nothing will avail. I had news from Theos this
morning. The people are on fire for your coming."

The train slackened speed. The lights of Dover flashed out on either
side. They drew up at the town station and waited there for some
minutes. Reist let down the window and addressed a porter.

"Why do we not go on to the harbour?" he asked. "We are already late."

"There is a special coming in just behind you, sir," the man answered.
"We shall send you both along together."

Reist thanked him and turned to Ughtred with a little laugh.

"So we are to have a travelling companion," he remarked, dryly. "Our
friends are not to be caught asleep. We must watch for the occupant of
this special train. We shall know then against whom we have to be upon
our guard."

They moved slowly on again. Behind them was an engine and a single
carriage. Reist let down both windows, and a fresh salt wind blew in
upon their faces. In a few moments they were at the landing-stage.

Reist leaped lightly out, and Ughtred followed him. Opposite was the
gangway leading to the steamer, through which a little crowd of
passengers were already elbowing their way. They lingered on its
outskirts and watched the single carriage drawn by the second engine.
It drew up within a few feet of them, and a tall, fair young man
handed out his portmanteau to one of the porters and leisurely
descended on to the platform. Ughtred recognized him with a little
exclamation of surprise.

"Why, it's Brand!"

He would have moved forward but for Reist's restraining arm.

"Wait! Who is he?"

"A newspaper man," Ughtred answered. "An honest fellow and a friend. I
will answer for him."

"He was at your rooms with Hassen," Reist said, quickly. "I would
trust no one whom I had seen with that man. Let him pass. We will
follow him on board."

But it was too late. Brand possessed the quick, searching gaze of a
journalist, and already, with a little start of surprise, he had
recognized them.

"Erlito," he exclaimed. "What luck!"

Erlito shook hands with him, laughing. They turned towards the boat
together.

"Have you become a millionaire, my friend," he asked, "that you must
travel in special trains?"

Brand shook his head.

"Personally," he remarked, "I am in my usual lamentable state of
impecuniosity. Nevertheless, for the moment I am representing wealth
illimitable. That is to say, I am in harness again."

Reist looked askance at them both. He did not understand. Ughtred was
suddenly grave.

"I must ask you where you are going," he said. "There is no rumour of
war, is there?"

Brand hesitated.

"Speaking broadly," he answered, "I have no right to tell you. But the
circumstances of our meeting are peculiar. To tell you the truth, I am
bound for Theos."

Reist's face was dark with anger--Ughtred's blank with amazement.
Brand hastened to explain.

"The Duke of Reist," he said, "probably does not understand my
position. I am a special correspondent to the _Daily Courier_. They
send me at a moment's notice to any place where interesting events are
likely to happen. Our chief has been studying the aspect of things in
Theos, and half-an-hour ago I had my route. It was the same, Erlito,
when I travelled with you to Abyssinia!"

Ughtred nodded thoughtfully.

"That is true," he remarked. "Reist, I am sure that we can trust Mr.
Brand. He is not in league with any of those who would hinder us upon
our journey."

"That may be so," Reist answered, "but he knows too much for our
safety. There must be an understanding between us. A single paragraph
in his newspaper to-morrow as to our journey, and we shall have as
much chance of reaching the moon as Theos."

Brand, who was writing upon a telegraph-form, paused at once. They
were on the side of the steamer, remote from the bustle of departure,
and almost alone.

"There is likely to be trouble, then, on the frontier, or before?" he
inquired. "You have opponents?"

"So much so," Reist answered, fiercely, "that if we were in Theos now,
and you talked of filling the newspapers with idle gossip of us and
our affairs, we should not stop to argue the matter with you."

Brand laughed softly.

"I don't want to do you any harm," he said. "We must compromise
matters."

Reist misunderstood him.

"An affair of money," he exclaimed. "I understand. We will give your
paper one, two hundred pounds, to make no mention of Theos for a
week."

Brand glanced at Ughtred with twinkling eyes.

"The special train which brought me here cost more than that, I am
afraid," he said. "Believe me, Duke, it is not a matter of money at
all. The proprietors of my paper are millionaires. What they want is
information. When I spoke of a compromise I meant something entirely
different."

"Perhaps you had better explain exactly what you mean," Reist said,
curtly. "I do not understand this Western journalism. It is new to
me."

Brand nodded.

"Good!" he said. "You want to keep this journey secret until you are
safe in Theos. Very well, I will send no message to my people until
you give me leave. Only you must supply me then with exclusive
information. And you must see that I am the first to cable it from
your country."

"That is an agreement," Reist answered, solemnly. "If you will keep to
that I am satisfied."

They were already in the Channel. A wave broke over the bows of the
vessel, drenching them with spray. Brand led the way down-stairs.

"Since we are to be fellow-passengers," he said, "let us drink to our
prosperous journey--and Theos."

Reist touched Ughtred's arm upon the stairs.

"He is to be trusted, this friend of yours?" he whispered, anxiously.

"Implicitly," Ughtred answered, with emphasis.

"Then we are very fortunate," Reist said, "for it is such a man as
this whom we wanted."




CHAPTER IX


"Monsieur will pardon me!"

Ughtred glanced up, startled. For an hour or more he had been watching
with fascinated eyes the great rolling pine forests through which the
train was rushing. Brand and Reist were in the restaurant-car--Ughtred
was rapidly becoming too excited to eat. They had entered upon the
last stage of their journey. Somewhere away beyond that dim line of
mountains was Theos. So far they had been neither accosted nor
watched. This was the first stranger who had addressed a word to
either of them.

"You wished for a seat here?" Ughtred asked.

The priest, who had come through from the dining-car, held between his
fingers an unlit cigar. His fat, good-humoured face was a little
flushed. He had the appearance of a man who has found his dinner a
satisfactory meal.

"It is your _coupe_, I understand, monsieur," he answered, "but the
smoking-car is full. I wondered if monsieur would permit me to occupy
his friend's seat until he returns. One misses a smoke so much."

He looked longingly at the cigar. Ughtred rose and cleared off the
rugs and papers which were spread over the vacant seats.

"My friends, I am sure, will have no objection," he declared. "I think
that there is room for all of us."

The priest was volubly thankful. He lit his cigar and puffed at it
with obvious pleasure.

"Monsieur is doubtless a great traveller," he remarked, urbanely. "For
me a journey such as this is an event--a wonderful event. Not once in
many years do I leave my people. Monsieur will be amused, but it is
indeed ten years since I found myself in a railway train."

Ughtred was reserved, but the priest was quite willing to bear
the brunt of the conversation so long as he had a listener. It
appeared that he was on his way to visit his brother, who was a
prosperous merchant in Belgrade. And monsieur?--if he were not too
inquisitive--should he have the pleasure of his company all the way?

Ughtred hesitated for the fraction of a second. Reist was passing
along the corridor with imperturbable face, but with his cap in his
hand--an agreed upon sign of danger. So Ughtred, to whom a lie was as
poison, braced himself for the effort.

"I go even farther than you," he declared. "My journey is not ended at
Constantinople."

The priest's fat face was wrinkled into smiles. It was most
fortunate--his own good fortune. For himself he was so unaccustomed to
travel that he found it impossible to read. He was excited--besides,
it gave him the headache. To converse only was possible. But after all
he had no right to inflict himself thus upon monsieur. He had perhaps
affairs to attend to--or he desired to sleep? Ughtred, who found it
impossible to suspect this fat, simple-mannered man so shabbily
dressed, so wrapped in enjoyment of his bad cigar, smiled, and shook
his head. They drifted into conversation. Ughtred learned the entire
village history of Baineuill, and was made acquainted with the names
and standing of each of its inhabitants from Jean the smith to
Monsieur le Comte, who was an infidel, and whose house-parties were as
orgies of the evil one.

"And monsieur," the priest asked, ingenuously, "monsieur is perhaps a
soldier? I have talked so long of my own poor affairs. It must be
tedious."

Just then Reist and Brand passed along the corridor, laughing
heartily. Brand paused, and with a bow to the priest held out a paper
to Ughtred.

"Read that, Brand!" he exclaimed. "These papers are the drollest in
the world."

Ughtred looked up puzzled, but took the paper held out insistently
towards him. At the bottom of an illustration were a few pencilled
words.

"Be careful! Remember! You are W. B. The priest has been asking
questions about us!"

Ughtred read, and smiled. The priest leaned forward.

"It is a joke, eh? Monsieur will permit me also? It is good to laugh."

Brand was equal to the occasion. He took the paper quickly away from
Ughtred.

"Monsieur," he said, removing his cap, "the joke which I pointed out
to my friend has, without doubt, humour, but the journal, as you see,
is for the students. Monsieur will excuse me if I refrain from
offering it to him."

The priest acquiesced with a graver face, and some show of dignity.

"But I fear, monsieur," he said to Brand, "that I am occupying your
seat. You wish to return here, beyond a doubt?"

Brand shook his head.

"By no means, monsieur," he declared. "For the present, at any rate, I
am engaged elsewhere."

They passed along the corridor. Glancing up at the priest, Ughtred was
aware of a slight change in his expression. His brows were contracted,
he was immersed in thought. The change was momentary, however. Soon he
was again chattering away--still always of his own affairs. But there
came a time when he wound up a little speech with a question.

"Is it not so, Monsieur Brand--was not that how your friend called
you?"

Ughtred assented.

"My name is Walter Brand," he answered.

Again there came that faint change in the priest's face.

"Monsieur will not think me curious," he said. "He is perhaps a
soldier?"

Ughtred shook his head.

"I have seen some fighting," he said, "but I am not a soldier. I am a
journalist, if you know what that means--one who writes for the
newspapers. My friend whom you saw speak to me just now is a soldier
by profession."

The priest nodded pleasantly.

"And he, like yourself," he asked, "is he, too, English?"

Ughtred looked around, and lowered his voice.

"He has been in the English army, but he is not an Englishman. He has
had a very unfortunate history. I wish that I could tell it to you,
but the time is too short, and he does not like to be talked about."

The priest's face shone with sympathy.

"Poor fellow!" he murmured.

"Brand!"

They both looked up. Brand himself had entered the _coupe_. There was
a slight frown upon his forehead, and his tone was curt.

"I wish you would explain to the conductor about our tickets," he
said. "He is very stupid, and I cannot make him understand."

Ughtred rose at once and left the _coupe_. Brand bowed gravely to the
priest.

"I trust monsieur will excuse me," he said, "for interrupting what I
am sure must have been a very agreeable conversation."

The slight foreign accent was beautifully done. Brand was as tall as
Ughtred, and although not so broad his carriage was good and his
natural air one of distinction. The priest smiled benignly upon him.

"I fear," he said, "that I have already wearied your friend. My life
must seem so humdrum to him, and to you, who have travelled so far and
seen so much. For I, monsieur, as I have told your friend, have lived
all my days in one quiet country place, and this journey is a great
event for me."

Brand slipped into the vacant seat. In the vestibule Ughtred met
Reist. He drew him into the smoking-compartment. He was very pale,
and his voice shook with emotion.

"The priest," he said, "is a creature of Domiloff's. You were on your
guard?"

Ughtred nodded.

"What a famous fellow Brand is. Up to now, at any rate, his scheme has
worked. He is personating me bravely, and really we are very much
alike."

"He will be too clever for him," Reist said. "It is a matter of time.
Do you know that in half-an-hour we shall be at the frontier?"

"So soon?" Ughtred exclaimed.

"Listen! I had a message from our friends at Limburg. The train will
be searched at the barrier. There will be a determined attempt to
prevent your entering the country. Theos is in a state of hopeless
confusion. The motion to repeal your sentence of banishment is still
before the House of Laws. The Custom officers, and I am afraid the
Government officials, have been heavily bribed by Russia not to pass
you across the frontier."

A bright light flashed in Ughtred's eyes.

"So we shall see," he muttered.

"They have a plan ready for us, no doubt," Reist continued, "and that
priest is in it. Never mind. We shall outwit them. If only your friend
Brand is equal to his part."

"The man is a born actor," Ughtred said. "I left him playing the
Prince as I could never have done it. I do not think that Domiloff's
man will find him out."

Reist pulled the window softly down and looked out. The train was
passing across a high bridge. Below, the river wound its way through a
stretch of rocky, broken country.

"We are barely twenty miles from my home--the castle of Reist is to
the left of the hills there. In a few minutes the train will stop. Be
ready to follow me, and do exactly as I do."

"But we are not timed to stop until we reach Gallona!"

"Never mind," Reist answered. "This will be a stop that does not
appear upon the time-table. It is the plan of those who are working
for us in Theos, and it is good. At the village station of Moschaum
the signals will be against us, and we shall stop. Our task is to
leave the train unseen--it may be difficult, but I have bribed all the
servants, and they are preparing to see nothing. There will be horses
waiting for us--and then--then it will be a gallop for a kingdom."

"The plan seems good enough," Ughtred said, thoughtfully, "and I am in
your hands. But what about Brand?"

Reist shrugged his shoulders.

"He is one of those who love adventure, and I do not think that he can
come to any harm. Let him play out his game. It was his own idea to
personate you, and the risk is his own. Ah!"

There was a sudden slackening of speed. The brakes were on and the
whistle sounding. Reist strolled to the platform of the car as though
to look out, and Ughtred followed him. A conductor unfastened the gate
and slipped away. The train had come to a standstill in a tiny
station, a little wooden building with a cupola, and everywhere
surrounded with a dense forest of pines. Reist looked swiftly round.

"Now," he said. "Follow me."

They slipped from the train on the side remote from the platform, and
in half-a-dozen strides had reached the impenetrable shelter of the
trees. Then there was a whistle. The train crawled onward serpent-like
with its flaring electric lights and the shower of sparks which flew
upwards from the engine. An hour later Ughtred, riding in silence and
at breakneck speed with Reist at his elbow crossed the frontier of his
kingdom.




CHAPTER X


"Prince Ughtred of Tyrnaus."

Brand awoke from a hideous nightmare, sat up on a rude horsehair
couch, and held his head with both hands. He was conscious of a sense
of nausea, burning temples, and a general indisposition to take any
interest in his surroundings. He sank back upon his pillow.

"Oh, rot," he murmured. "Go away, please."

There was a short silence, then footsteps, and the newcomer bent over
the sofa.

"Drink this."

The invitation was alluring. Brand's throat was like a limekiln. He
sat up and took the proffered tumbler into his hands. The liquid was
cold and sparkling--almost magical in its effects. He drained it to
the last drop, and then looked curiously about him.

"Where the mischief am I?" he asked; "and who are you?"

The newcomer stood in the light from the window. He was a short and
thick-set man, with iron-grey hair and black moustache slightly
upturned. He had a pallid skin and keen grey eyes. His manner was at
once grave and conciliatory.

"Your memory, Prince," he remarked, "is scarcely so good as mine. I
have had the pleasure of seeing you but once before, yet I think that
I should have recognized you anywhere."

"Oh, would you!" Brand remarked, beneath his breath.

"I will recall myself to your memory," the other continued, blandly.
"My name is Domiloff!"

"Domiloff, of course," Brand echoed. "You are still----"

"Still the representative of Russia to the State of Theos. It is
true."

"And where am I?" Brand asked, looking around the bare, lofty room
with some surprise; "and what am I here for?"

"You are in the House of Customs at Gallona. I met the train at the
frontier to secure the honour of a little conversation with you before
you proceeded to the capital. I found you exceedingly unwell, and took
the liberty of bringing you here that you might have the opportunity
of resting a little before completing your journey."

Brand rose slowly to his feet. He was still giddy, but rapidly
recovering himself. His last distinct recollection was the coffee
which he and the priest had ordered in their _coupe_. There was a
peculiar taste--a swimming in his head--afterwards blank
unconsciousness.

"You have been most considerate, I am sure," he said, slowly. "I am
glad to have your explanation, otherwise my presence here, under the
circumstances, might have suggested unpleasant things to me."

Domiloff's lips parted in an inscrutable smile. He remained silent.

"I might have remembered," Brand continued, "that I was travelling
with two friends. What has become of them?"

Domiloff shrugged his shoulders.

"It was most unfortunate," he declared. "The train pulled up for a
moment at a wayside station, and they appear to have descended--and to
have been left behind."

Brand nodded.

"I might also have remembered," he continued, stroking his moustache
thoughtfully, "a priest whose interest in his fellow-passengers was a
little extraordinary--a cup of coffee pressed upon me, a queer
taste--bah! Why waste time? I was drugged, sir, with your connivance,
no doubt, and brought here. What is the meaning of it?"

Domiloff shrugged his shoulders.

"You assume too much, my dear Prince," he declared, blandly. "Let us
not waste time by fruitless discussion. I will admit that I was
particularly anxious to have a few minutes' quiet conversation with
you before you entered the capital. The opportunity is here. Let us
avail ourselves of it."

"Well?"

Domiloff coughed. He had expected a torrent of indignation and abuse.
His guest's nonchalance was a little disquieting.

"You are entering," he said, "upon a troublesome inheritance."

"Well?"

"It is an inheritance," Domiloff continued, "which you can neither
possess yourself of, nor hold, without powerful friends."

"Well?"

"My country is willing to be your friend."

"Your country," Brand remarked, quietly, "is renowned throughout the
world for her generosity."

Domiloff bowed.

"You do us, sir," he said, "no more than justice."

Brand smiled.

"Well! Go on!"

"Theos is in a state of hopeless confusion," Domiloff remarked. "It is
very doubtful whether the actual state of the country has been
represented to you. The people are all clamouring for they know not
what, law and order seem to be things of the past. South of the
Balkans the Turks are massing; northwards, the mailed hand of Austria
is slowly being extended."

"And Russia?" Brand asked. "It is not her custom to remain in the
background."

"Russia," Domiloff said, "desires to be your friend. She will secure
for you the throne, and she will guarantee your independence."

"At what price?"

Domiloff shrugged his shoulders.

"You are very suspicious, my dear Prince," he said. "My master does
not sell his favours. He asks only for a reasonable recognition of
your gratitude. I have here the copy of a treaty which will secure you
against any foreign interference in the affairs of your kingdom. Its
advantages to you and to Theos are so obvious that it is idle for me
to waste time by enlarging upon them. Read it, my Prince."

"I shall be charmed," Brand exclaimed, stretching out his hand for it.

"You would doubtless prefer," Domiloff said, "to look it through
alone. I will return in half-an-hour."

"You are very thoughtful," Brand answered. "By the bye, you will
excuse my denseness, but I am not quite clear as to our exact
relations at the present moment. I am, I presume, at Gallona?"

The Baron bowed.

"It is indisputable!"

"At an hotel?"

"You are," Domiloff declared, "my honoured guest."

"Is it part of your diplomacy to starve me?" Brand asked, coolly, "or
may I have some breakfast?"

Domiloff touched the bell.

"My dear Prince!" he exclaimed, deprecatingly.

A servant entered with a tray--cold meats and a flask of wine. Outside
the window a sentry walked up and down. Brand eyed him thoughtfully.

"I think that I should like a stroll," he remarked. "My head is still
heavy."

Domiloff advanced, and laid his hand upon his shoulder.

"My dear Prince," he said, "I beg that for the present you will not
think of it. It is of the utmost importance that your presence upon
the soil of Theos should not be suspected. I have a special train
waiting to take you to the capital. Until we start it will be far
better, believe me, that you do not attempt to leave this room."

"At what hour do we start?" Brand asked.

Domiloff hesitated.

"It depends," he said, slowly, "upon circumstances."

Brand sat down and poured himself out a glass of wine.

"That means when I have signed the treaty, I suppose?"

Domiloff was already at the door. He affected not to hear.

"If your Highness will ring when you are prepared to give me an
audience," he said, "I shall be entirely at your service."

       *       *       *       *       *

Brand ate and drank, threw himself into an easy-chair, and lit a
cigarette. Presently he tried the handle of the door. It was locked.
He moved to the window and looked out. Below was an old courtyard
enclosed within high grey walls and iron gates, through which he could
catch a glimpse of the town. The wide, open space, half square, half
market-place, was crowded with people in strange costume, having
baskets of fruit and vegetables, before which they squatted and called
out their wares. Beyond were houses with vivid, whitewashed fronts,
red roofs, and narrow windows. At the gates were stationed two
soldiers in red tunics and broad white trousers, very baggy, and
tucked into their boots. They were bareheaded, and they smoked long
cigarettes, chattering meanwhile to one another and the people around
in a dialect which to Brand was like a nightmare. He watched them for
a while, and laughed softly to himself. This was an adventure after
his own heart.

He looked at his watch. It was three o'clock.

"So Reist and the Prince were left behind," he murmured. "It was very
well arranged. By now they should be on their way to the capital. I
must make this last out as long as possible. What a coup!"

He lit another cigarette, and turned the treaty over in his hands.
Here he met with a disappointment. There were two copies, one in
Russian, the other in the Thetian language. He could not read either.
After a few moments' deliberation he rang the bell.

Domiloff hurried in, expectantly.

"You are ready for me?" he asked. "You have read our proposals? You
will perhaps now be disposed to admit the generosity of my master?"

Brand shrugged his shoulders.

"As yet," he said, coolly, "I am in a position to admit nothing. As a
matter of fact, I cannot read this document. I cannot read Russian,
and I have forgotten nearly all Thetian. You must have a copy made for
me quickly either in French or English."

Domiloff started. A momentary shade of suspicion darkened his
forehead.

"Forgotten your Thetian, Prince?" he exclaimed. "Your native tongue!"

"You forget that I have been an exile from Theos ever since I was a
child," Brand answered. "I can understand a word or so here and there,
but that is not sufficient. It is necessary that I should have an
exact and precise comprehension of your proposals."

Domiloff took up the document.

"I will make a copy myself," he said. "It will not take long. I hope
that you will soon find your recollection of the language revive,
Prince. You will find the people sensitive about it."

Domiloff seated himself at the table, and for some time there was
silence in the room except for the scratching of his pen. Brand
lounged in the easy-chair--amused himself by speculating as to the end
of his adventure. Presently there was a sharp tap at the door. A
messenger entered, and conversed for awhile with Domiloff in Russian.
He was dismissed with a few rapid orders. Domiloff turned round in his
chair and faced Brand.

"Prince Ughtred," he said, "I have disturbing news from the capital.
The disorder in the city is so great that the Powers must intervene at
once unless some decisive step be taken. I have finished my
translation. Sign it and you shall enter into your kingdom before
sunset."

Brand smiled.

"I will give you my answer," he said, "in ten minutes."

Domiloff bowed.

"I shall await your decision, Prince," he said. "Only remember this.
To-night there must be a King of Theos or a Protectorate."




CHAPTER XI


The ten minutes became half-an-hour. Domiloff at last lost patience
and knocked at the door. Brand, who had just finished a shorthand copy
of the treaty, and had tucked it within the inner sole of his boot,
realized the fact that he had reached the end of his tether.

"Come in," he called out cheerfully.

Domiloff entered and closed the door behind him.

"I cannot understand your Highness's indecision," he said,
impatiently. "The document which I have had the honour to submit for
your approval is one of the most simple and straightforward which was
ever written. And while you hesitate, Prince, your kingdom passes
away. Every moment affairs in the capital draw nearer to a crisis."

Brand leaned back in his chair. He looked no longer at the manuscript.
It was evident that his decision was taken.

"It seems to me," he said, quietly, "that my kingdom passes away none
the less surely when I sign this paper. Your terms, Baron Domiloff,
amount to a Russian Protectorate. Our trade is to be yours, and yours
only. Russian is to be taught in our schools, and Russians are to
control our army and our customs. What will Theos gain in return for
this?"

"Her independence will be guaranteed. Russia will be her faithful
friend!"

"Her independence!" Brand smiled. "Her independence will be rather a
tattered garment."

Domiloff shrugged his shoulders.

"Prince," he said, "you scarcely yet know the nature of your
inheritance. Theos is a small, weak State, hemmed in with powerful
nations. One of the Powers must needs to be her protector. Russia,
ever generous, offers herself. Without her aid you could not hold your
kingdom for an hour."

Brand sighed.

"Well," he said, slowly, "supposing I agree--will you tell me this?
How can I sign a treaty before I am King?"

Domiloff touched the paper with his forefinger.

"That has been provided for," he said. "What you will sign is a
promise to ratify the treaty on your accession to the throne."

Brand shook his head.

"As a private individual," he said, "my signature is worth nothing.
Further, I decline to sign a paper which might at any future time be
brought up against me, and cost me the respect and allegiance of my
people."

Domiloff looked anxious. A moment ago the affair had seemed settled.

"What do you propose, then?" he asked.

"I will swear upon my honour," Brand said, "and before witnesses if
you desire it, that I will sign the treaty whenever you require it
after my accession to the throne."

Domiloff hesitated, made up his mind to yield, and yielded gracefully.

"It is sufficient," he declared. "The honour of the House of Tyrnaus
has never been questioned. But there is one more promise which I must
ask you to add. The Governor of the Customs, in whose house we now
are, has acted as a patriot and a wise man in conjunction with me."

"I understand," Brand said, with a quiet smile. "He shall be held
harmless, so far as I am concerned."

Domiloff vanished for a moment, and reappeared followed by a
soldierly-looking young man in dark blue uniform of decidedly Russian
appearance, and an olive-skinned, black-bearded civilian, with shifty
eyes and nervous manner. They both bowed low before Brand, who drew
himself up to his full height and eyed them scornfully.

"These are your witnesses, Baron?" he asked Domiloff.

Domiloff assented.

"Captain Barka," he said, "who is in command of the barracks here, is
one of the most gallant and faithful officers in the army of Theos.
Mr. Omardine is Governor of the Customs, and a civic magistrate."

Brand regarded them coldly.

"You are here," he said, "to listen to these words of mine. On the
sacred honour of the House of Tyrnaus, and before the God of Theos, I
swear that whenever I may be asked after my accession to the throne of
this country, I will sign the treaty which I hold now in my right
hand. And further, I swear not to divest of his office or punish in
any way for their treachery, Captain Barka or Mr. Omardine, your two
witnesses."

The two men started. Omardine turned pale and glanced at Domiloff with
furtive eyes. Barka laid his hand for a moment upon the hilt of his
sword, and the deep colour dyed his cheeks. Domiloff stepped hastily
forward.

"It is sufficient, your Highness," he said; "but I must protest
against the word 'treachery' being used as applying to either of these
gentlemen. They have simply studied the best interests of their
country in recognizing that her destiny is identical with that of
Russia."

Brand turned his back upon them.

"So far as their safety is concerned," he said, "I have passed my
word. My opinions are my own. Will you tell me, Baron, at what time
you propose to release me?"

"If your Highness will accept my escort," Domiloff said, "I propose to
leave for the capital at once."

"The sooner the better," Brand declared.

"Then there remains only for your Highness to put on the uniform which
I have sent for," Domiloff remarked, touching the bell.

"What uniform?" asked Brand, quickly.

"The uniform of a Colonel in the Guards of Theos," Domiloff answered.
"Here it is."

A servant entered, carrying a suit of gorgeous light blue and white
uniform. Barka and Omardine respectfully withdrew.

"I see no need at all for me to wear these things," Brand exclaimed,
glancing in bewilderment at the many trappings and strange fastenings.
"I will go as I am. There will be plenty of time afterwards for this
sort of thing."

"It is impossible," Domiloff interrupted. "Your Highness seems to
forget that your throne has yet to be won. The people have had enough
of civilians. You must appear before them as a soldier, and they will
shout you King till their throats are hoarse and the water stands in
their eyes. They are a dramatic people, lovers of effect. They must be
taken by storm. I cannot offer your Highness a valet, but perhaps I
can be of assistance."

Brand yielded, but not without secret misgivings. With his clothes a
certain part of his easy confidence departed. His share in the game
was no longer to be a purely passive one. With the donning of this
uniform to which he had no manner of claim he entered the lists of
intrigues boldly, as an impostor and masquerader. Under certain
circumstances the way out might be difficult.

Domiloff watched him make his toilet with a certain curiosity. It was
odd that a military man should be so much embarrassed by buckles and
straps, yet when all was completed he was bound to admit that the
result was satisfactory enough. Brand was a good-looking fellow, and
he looked the part.

"Your Highness will be so good now as to follow me," Domiloff
directed. "A carriage is waiting to take us to the station."

A guard of honour surrounded the open landau, whose military salute
Brand gravely returned. The news of his arrival had quickly spread.
The country people thronged around, shouting and cheering. The air
was rent with strange, barbaric cries. Their short drive to the
railway station was a triumphal progress. Brand alone was wholly
uncomfortable. Surely amongst all this press of people there would be
some one to whom Prince Ughtred was known. They reached the station,
however, without incident, and amidst ever-increasing enthusiasm. A
handsome saloon was drawn up to the carpeted platform, and a cordon of
soldiers kept the station clear. In less than five minutes they were
off.

Brand unbuckled his sword, and threw his helmet up in the rack. Then
he made himself comfortable in an easy-chair, ostensibly to sleep, in
reality to think out the situation.

"How long will it take us to reach the capital?" he asked.

"Two hours," Domiloff answered. "Sleep for a time if you like. You may
make yourself quite easy. My arrangements for your reception are
complete. You will receive a tremendous ovation. The news of your
coming has electrified the city."

Brand's gratification at the prospect was certainly not apparent.
However, he closed his eyes, and relapsed into thought. Two hours! He
reckoned it all out. His knowledge of the geography of the country was
slight, but it seemed to him impossible that Prince Ughtred and Reist
could yet have reached the capital. So far all that he had done had
been good. The difficulty which confronted him now was to select the
proper moment for his avowal, and, having made it, to escape. He
foresaw difficulties. Domiloff was not a man to be made a fool of
lightly. His one comforting reflection was that when the explosion did
come he would be safer in Theos than in a frontier town which was
obviously under Russian influence.

Slowly the train wound its way across a rocky and difficult country,
a country of mountains, woods, and rivers, valleys rich with
corn-tracts, tiny villages whose gleaming white homesteads made
picturesque many a hillside. Brand sat quite still with half-closed
eyes. Presently the door of the saloon opened, and closed again
softly. Domiloff looked in and withdrew. Then there came the sound
of voices from the next compartment. Listening intently, Bland caught
a word or two here and there.

"Absolutely impossible.... I saw him in Paris after the Algerian
campaign ... thinner, that is all.... Reist and the English journalist
were simply left ... _plante la_. Hernoff planned everything."

"Mistakes.... He does not make mistakes. If I believed it I would
shoot him like a dog. You have your revolver, too. Good! Oh, yes, he
will sign! It will be a record reign. It may last a month. They will
see that he is under the thumb of Russia. No, he is fast asleep. After
Hernoff's medicine one is sleepy for days."

The voices died away. They passed through a little wayside station gay
with flags, and the train began to descend a series of gradients.
Below was a great fruitful plain, bounded southwards by a range of
towering mountains. Far away westwards was a huge ascent to a
wide-spreading table-land. Brand sat with his eyes fixed steadily upon
it, and a queer little smile upon his lips. He was sufficiently aware
of his surroundings to know that there was the fortress capital of
Theos.

He heard footsteps, and closed his eyes again. Domiloff entered the
saloon, and shook him by the arm. He awoke with a drowsy murmur.

"Wake up, your Highness! We are within a few miles of the capital."

Brand sat up.

"All right," he said. "I am ready. But how my head aches."

Domiloff smiled grimly, and thrust a sheet of paper into his hand.

"It will pass off," he said. "See, this is your speech. Learn it. It
will not be wise for you to address the people in any save their own
language."

Brand took the sheet of unintelligible characters into his own hand.
He looked blankly at it.

"Read it to me," he said. "Let me hear how it sounds."

Domiloff declaimed and translated it. Brand listened thoughtfully.
Apparently the return of Ughtred of Tyrnaus to the throne of his
forefathers was solely owing to a benevolent desire on the part of
Russia to bring to Theos an era of unparalleled peace and prosperity.
Far away a gleam of white and grey towers flashed upon the hillside.
Villages became more plentiful. They were nearing the capital.




CHAPTER XII


Once more the men and women of Theos thronged the streets of their
time-worn capital. A thousand torches flared in the open space before
the palace. Lanterns and flags waved from all the principal houses and
public buildings. Only the great Reist mansion was silent and gloomy,
and many questioning eyes were turned towards it.

"It was the Duke himself who has brought Ughtred of Tyrnaus here,"
muttered one. "Yet his house is dark and empty, and no man has seen
him."

"There is something strange about it," said another, "and I like not
the wolf Domiloff at the shoulder of a Tyrnaus."

"Please God, the son may not be like the father!"

"Let us see him," cried another. "Come--shout!"

So the air shook with the roar of voices, and servants in the blue
Tyrnaus livery came out upon the balcony of the brilliantly-lit palace
and spread a carpet. But the man whom they longed to see lingered.

Domiloff argued with him in vain. He was unaccountably obstinate.

"It is the Duke of Reist who should stand by my side when first I
speak to my people," he declared, coolly. "It is he who brought me
from England, not you. He must be my sponsor. If he is not here I will
wait."

Domiloff was naturally furious. He had been at considerable pains to
insure the absence of Reist from the capital on this occasion, and his
inopportune return would amount to a disaster. On the other hand, the
populace were fast working themselves up into a state of frenzy. Let
this man show himself, and the success of his coup was assured. It was
unpardonable hesitation. He trembled with rage. In the King's palace,
in his own chamber, he had lost for the moment his hold upon this man.
It was the one weak spot in his carefully thought-out scheme. It was
the one contingency against which he was comparatively helpless.

"You are losing a golden opportunity, Prince," he declared. "Your
hesitation is a crime. The people are on fire to see you. They will
shout you King with one voice. Give to Reist all the glory if you
will, but, if you would win your kingdom, out on to the balcony and
show yourself. Hear them!"

The roar of voices sounded like thunder from the street below. Brand
smoked on stolidly.

"I shall wait one hour for the Duke of Reist," he decided. "At the end
of that time, if he has not arrived, I will reconsider the matter."

Domiloff, who did not expect the Duke of Reist in an hour, was forced
to acquiesce.

"I will send messengers out amongst the people," he said. "I will let
them know that you are worn out with travelling, but that in an hour
you will address them. Shall it be so?"

"You can do as you like," Brand answered, quietly. "I make no
promises."

Domiloff withdrew, furious. Brand was left alone. He was a journalist
of the modern type, and he had been in a good many tight corners. His
nerves were of iron, his courage indomitable, and his sense of humour
prodigious. But this was getting beyond a joke. He was in a
_cul-de-sac_. Escape was scarcely to be hoped for, disclosure would
certainly cost him his life. Nevertheless, as the roar of voices
mounted again to his ears the corners of his mouth twitched and his
eyes shone with laughter. He found himself longing for pen and paper,
wondering how much of this he dare use as copy. Then the clock struck.
He became instantly grave. After all, an hour was a short time. He
concentrated his thoughts once more upon the situation.

On one point he was resolved. He would not carry his personation any
further. He would not present himself to the people of Theos as an
impostor, with Domiloff for his introducer, and unable to frame a
single sentence in the language of his supposed forefathers. The
speech which Domiloff had written out for him was, of course, an
impossibility. Some time to-night the Prince and Reist must surely
arrive, and the situation then might become possible. Failing that, he
could see nothing but chaos.

Half-an-hour had passed, but he was not greatly disturbed. He had a
touch of that beautiful faith which is the heritage of the born
adventurer. He was content to wait for something to turn up. He threw
away the end of his cigar and walked slowly up and down the great
vaulted room. The ceiling was of extraordinary height, and the wooden
panels which covered the walls were black with age and beautifully
carved. He paused before one of them to examine the design, and
passed his fingers lightly over the figure of a priest who knelt by
the side of a wounded man in armour. It was a rugged but wonderful
representation. Suddenly he started back as though he had been shot.
The priest was being split down the middle before his eyes.

He stood rigid. Even his nerves were scarcely proof against this sort
of thing. The head of the wounded knight had parted from his body, and
the legs of the priest were every moment drawing further apart. He
approached the panel gingerly. It was not fancy. There was a long,
thin crack from the floor to the tapestry border, which stood about
six feet high. Whilst he watched, it widened. He slipped his hand into
his pocket and drew out his revolver.

From one inch to two--to half a foot, and then wide open, the panel
slid back. Brand uttered a soft cry of amazement. A woman, dark,
slender, and beautiful, stood upon the threshold of what seemed to be
a passage, herself almost as motionless as a painted figure. Her eyes
met his with a challenging light, her pose was imperious. Diamonds
flashed from her neck and bosom, and her hair was coiled upon her head
coronet-like, after the manner of the women of Theos. Her black gown
was cut in a manner unknown to western dressmakers--to Brand she
seemed like a wonderful Italian picture of the middle ages stepped
bodily from its frame. He lowered his revolver, and took a quick step
backward. Then to his surprise, she spoke to him in English,
haltingly, but with perfect distinctness.

"Lock the door."

The sound of his native language made a new man of Brand. His senses
were no longer dazed.

"It is--already locked," he answered.

She took a step forward, and before he could divine her purpose sank
gently on one knee in a wonderful courtesy. He took the slim white
hand, and bowed low over it.

"You are Ughtred of Tyrnaus?" she said, eagerly. "Is it not so?"

He laughed quietly.

"It is the first time," he said, "that I have been asked the question.
Personation seems to come natural to me."

She looked at him intently, and the fine, dark eyebrows were drawn a
little closer together.

"I am not very quick at speaking English," she said. "You are Ughtred
of Tyrnaus?"

"Well, I am supposed to be," he admitted.

"Then where is my brother?" she demanded. "Why is he not with you?"

He looked at her, puzzled.

"Forgive me," he said. "I am rather stupid. What is your brother's
name, and who are you?"

Her eyes gleamed with suspicion. Was it not obvious who she was?

"I am the Countess Marie of Reist," she said. "Will you answer me
quickly?"

He divined the likeness at once.

"And do you live--in the wall?" he asked.

She frowned imperiously.

"If you indeed are Ughtred of Tyrnaus," she said, "you should know
that the Reist house adjoins the palace, and that this passage has
been in existence since the days of King Rudolph. Tell me what you
have done with my brother Nicholas, and how it happens that you have
entered the city without him, and in company with Domiloff the wolf."

He smiled. His optimism was justified. Something had turned up.

"You must allow me to make a confession, Countess," he said, easily.
"I am not Ughtred of Tyrnaus. The Prince is on his way to the city
with your brother, and, to tell you the truth, if they do not arrive
here very soon my position will become extremely uncomfortable."

She withdrew within the shelter of the panel and regarded him
haughtily.

"You say that you are not Ughtred of Tyrnaus," she exclaimed. "Then
who are you? An impostor! Yes! You are in the royal chamber, and even
now the people call for you. You are a tool of Domiloff's. Good! The
people shall know that they are being deceived!"

He was only just in time to seize her by the wrist. She wrenched
herself free with a furious little cry, but he blocked her escape.

"Countess," he said, with perfect respect, but with a gleam of
laughter in his eyes, "pray do not desert me, for I am a friend of
your brother's, and especially of Prince Ughtred's. I am not
masquerading for the fun of the thing, I can assure you, but solely to
outwit Domiloff. Permit me to explain, The fact is, I need your help."

She eyed him coldly. The touch of his fingers seemed burning still
upon her wrist.

"Well?"

"Three of us left England together," Brand said. "Your brother, Prince
Ughtred, and myself--Walter Brand, a newspaper writer and a person of
no importance. I won't stop to tell you how I became one of the party.
It isn't of any consequence, and time is. I happen to slightly
resemble Prince Ughtred, and we got scent of a plot to stop our
entrance into Theos. Well, Prince Ughtred and I exchanged identities.
The consequences were these. The Prince and your brother left the
train secretly before we left the frontier, I was drugged, and awoke
to find myself _tete-a-tete_ with a remarkably gentlemanly personage
called Domiloff."

Her eyes flashed fire. She came a little further into the room.

"Ah! Well!"

"He took me for granted in the kindest possible manner--waived aside
the matter of my abduction--affected to consider me as an afternoon
caller. He introduced politics in a casual sort of way. Russia I found
was the great and generous friend of Theos. Russia was pining for the
friendship of Theos."

She interrupted him with a fierce little gesture of contempt.

"The hound! Russia is our enemy! It was she who sought to buy our
freedom from Metzger, the merchant, for a million pounds."

He nodded.

"Exactly. However, I had to listen to him. In the end he produced a
treaty--Russian protection for Theos in exchange for every shred of
independence she possessed. If I would swear before witnesses to sign
it when I became King, I might proceed, and Domiloff himself would be
my escort. If I refused--well, I think then that other things were in
store for me. After a becoming show of hesitation I promised to
sign--when I was King. Then Domiloff hustled me along here. I have
delayed things as long as possible, but it's getting a little
uncomfortable. Domiloff can't understand why I won't go and speak to
the people. If I declare myself, he will shoot me on sight. What I
have been praying for is a chance to escape, or that your brother and
the Prince might turn up."

She regarded him with unfeigned admiration.

"I did you an injustice," she said. "I see that you are a very brave
man, and we in Theos love brave men."

He bowed before her so gallantly and looked into her eyes so closely
that a wave of colour flushed in her cheeks. A distant sound in the
Palace, however, brought them to a swift sense of the danger which
threatened him.

"You see," he explained, "I was bound to keep it up as long as I
could, or Domiloff would have tried to prevent your brother and the
Prince from reaching the capital. Besides, since I have read the
proposed treaty they would never allow me to escape alive."

She nodded slowly.

"Yes, that is so. It would not be well that you speak first to the
people with Domiloff at your elbow, but if it comes to a matter of
life or death you must do it. I will send servants and horses to
hasten my brother's coming, and you must continue the personation."

"There is an objection," he replied, quickly. "I do not know a single
word of your language, and to speak for the first time to the people
in any other would do the Prince a great injury with them."

She reflected for a moment. Then her face lit up. She pointed down the
passage.

"I think," she said, "that it would be a very good time for Prince
Ughtred to disappear. You shall come with me."

Brand hesitated.

"But, Countess," he protested, "they will search your house. You will
be accused of harbouring an impostor."

She dismissed the idea with a gesture of superb contempt.

"The Reist House," she assured him, "is secure against Domiloff or any
of his creatures. I offer you its shelter, sir. I beg you to come with
me."

Still he hesitated. A fresh murmur arose from the swelling crowd
without--footsteps were heard in the corridor--the hour struck. She
laid her fingers upon his arm, and looked upward into his face.

"Sir," she said, softly, "I beg that you will come with me."

Brand felt his heart beating with more than the mere excitement of the
moment. He yielded. She pressed a spring with her finger, and the
panel rolled slowly back into its place.




CHAPTER XIII


Up the steep ascent to the capital two men galloped their tired horses
in stern silence. For twelve hours they had ridden with scant waste of
breath in speech. Only at each change, and seven times since break of
day, had they changed horses. Prince Ughtred had lit a fresh cigar and
asked the same question and met with the same reply.

"How goes it, Nicholas?"

"We keep up with the time. Forward!"

As they neared the capital they rode through a stream of people
wending their way citywards. Reist drew rein.

"Whither away, friends?"

"To the capital, sir. Prince Ughtred of Tyrnaus, our future King, is
there. We go to greet him."

The two men exchanged quick glances as they rode on.

"I do not understand it," Reist admitted. "Our coming is unannounced.
A certain amount of secrecy was necessary. Something strange seems to
have happened."

By degrees their progress along the narrow road grew more and more
difficult. The country folk thronged the thoroughfare, gay in
picturesque holiday attire, many of them singing a strange national
air which stirred in Ughtred's heart some faint echo of far-away
recollections. He watched them eagerly, and his heart swelled with
pride. A fine, stalwart race, with the free swinging walk of
mountaineers, bright-eyed, clear-skinned, with cheeks as brown as
berries. His dormant patriotism, already awakened by his long ride
through the beautiful, dimly-familiar country, beat in his heart. He
would rule these people as his children, and though he died sword in
hand the yoke of the conqueror should never bow their shoulders. It
was a great task--a great heritage.

A train, brilliant with lights, glided serpent-like over the high
viaduct to their left. A murmur arose from amongst the people.

"The Prince," they cried. "The Prince."

"What does it mean?" Ughtred asked.

"God only knows," Reist answered, bewildered.

At the station a cordon of soldiers blocked the way. The two men
spurred on into the front ranks. Amongst a thunder of acclamation they
saw Domiloff and Brand in his brilliant uniform take their places in
the waiting carriage. They were speechless.

"To the palace," Reist cried at last. "Come, Ughtred; there's some
damned underhand plotting going on."

"It was Brand!" Ughtred exclaimed. "Brand in the uniform of the Theos
Guards. Is the man mad?"

"I do not think that it was Brand at all," Reist answered, fiercely.
"It is a plot of that accursed Russian. Way, good people, way!"

But the people, good-natured though they were, were wedged too thickly
to let them pass. At last in a rush they were almost unhorsed. A
direct progress to the palace was impossible. Reist turned up a side
street.

"We will go to my house," he said. "It will take us some time this
way, but we shall never succeed in reaching the palace."

       *       *       *       *       *

The panel slid back behind them, and closed with a spring. From some
place upon the wall invisible to him the Countess took a small silver
lamp, and carefully lit it. Then holding it high over her head she
turned towards Brand.

"You must follow me closely," she said. "The way is narrow, and there
are steps. Listen!"

They both stood for a moment with bated breath. In the room behind was
tumult. There were angry voices, the ringing of bells, bewildered
exclamations.

"It is my friend, Domiloff," Brand whispered. "I am afraid that he has
lost his temper. I might at least have left a note."

She motioned him to follow her.

"You are quite safe," she declared. "The secret passage has not been
used for many years. It is unknown to any within the palace. I do not
know what made me think of it to-night."

"It was," Brand remarked, "a remarkable piece of good fortune for me.
I do not fancy that our friend Domiloff in a passion would be at all a
pleasant companion."

Her face hardened.

"Domiloff," she said, "is a traitor and a ruffian. When I saw you
alone with him and without Nicholas I knew that something must have
happened. My brother would never have suffered him to have stood by
your side to-night. This way."

They stepped into a large dimly-lit room, with high panelled walls and
a vaulted roof. The door rolled back behind them. The girl passed her
hands along the wall till even the crack was invisible. Then she moved
to the table and struck a gong.

"You must need wine," she said. "Basil!"

A grey-haired old servant entered the room, and at the sight of Brand
would have fallen upon one knee, but the girl stopped him.

"Basil, this is not Prince Ughtred," she said, "but a friend of his
and ours who has been taking the Prince's place in order that Domiloff
might be deceived. Bring us some wine."

Brand drank from the long Venetian glass, and afterwards sank
gratefully into the high-backed chair to which she motioned him. At
her request he told her everything which had happened since the coming
of Reist to London. And from below there came to them often the murmur
of the waiting crowds.

She was superbly devoid of nerves. She had no manner of apprehension.

"They will come," she said, "and the people will wait. Tell me some
more of your wonderful London."

"You have never been there?" he exclaimed in astonishment.

She shook her head.

"No, nor in Paris even. No further west than Vienna."

"It is incredible," he murmured.

"And why incredible?" she asked him, with delicately upraised
eyebrows. "I do not understand. Theos is my home--those places are
nothing to me. Whilst I was in Vienna I was miserable. All was hurry
and bustle. There was so little dignity, so little repose. I do not
think that people who live in such places can understand what it is to
love one's homeland. Everywhere, too, even amongst the aristocracy,
one met vulgar people. Shopkeepers and merchants who had made very
much money mixed freely with the nobles. They tell me that in England
it is also like this. In Theos I think that we are wiser."

She spoke simply--as one who points out a grievous impropriety. Brand
smiled.

"I have heard your country spoken of as one of the most aristocratic
in the world," he remarked. "I think that it must be true."

"From what I have seen," she answered, "it may be so. There are very
little of the old nobility left in Theos, but we are content to let
them die out rather than to raise to their ranks those who have
enriched themselves with commerce. We believe that our way is best."

"And you yourself?" he asked. "Tell me how you occupy yourself. You
have friends--amusements?"

She shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly.

"My brother has large estates," she said, "and with them come many
duties. I see that our peasant women are properly brought up, and that
they retain their skill in lace work. Then there is music, and when we
are at Castle Reist we hunt. It is true that I have not many friends
of my own order, but that is scarcely to be expected. The care of so
many of those who are dependent upon one is a very absorbing duty. We
give a dowry to every girl who marries suitably amongst our own
people. For many generations this has been a religion with us. Tell
me, then, is it not so with the maidens of your country?--I speak, of
course, of those who are of noble birth."

He shook his head.

"I think not," he answered. "You see, for them there are many
diversions. They play games, hunt, shoot, and ride with their brothers
and their brothers' friends when they are at their estates. Then for
half the year they live in London, and every night there are dances,
concerts, theatres, and parties of all sorts."

She nodded gravely.

"That is what I have heard," she said. "They take life so much more
lightly than we who live in quieter places. Here there is born with us
the consciousness that our rank has many obligations. There is not a
peasant girl on my estates whom I do not know by name. It has been so
with the women of our house for many generations."

There was a short silence. Then she raised her eyes to his.

"Your own sisters?" she asked. "Are they, too, such as you describe?"

Brand smiled faintly.

"I have only one sister," he said, "and she is married. But my own
people would scarcely count--from your point of view."

She looked at him, faintly puzzled.

"You mean," she asked, "that you are not of noble birth?"

He shook his head.

"By no means! My father was a physician, and I myself write for the
newspapers!"

"But you spoke of Prince Ughtred," she remarked, "as your friend."

He smiled.

"In England," he explained, "all these things are regarded very
differently. We are a very democratic nation, and Prince Ughtred, you
must remember, is half an Englishman."

She was silent. He had an absurd fancy that she was disappointed--that
her momentary interest in him was gone. He was angry with himself for
the idea, angry with himself also for the effort which his little
speech had cost him. In England he counted himself a Radical, almost a
Socialist, and would have laughed to scorn the idea that the slightest
possible barrier could exist between men and women of unequal birth.
But out here, in the presence of this girl who spoke her mind so
simply, yet with such absolute conviction, he seemed to have come into
touch with a new order! The aristocracy which was to her as a creed
was a real and a live thing! He almost justified her in his mind. What
was surely a fallacy in England might be truth here.

The silence was prolonged. Then he glanced up to find her watching him
with a slight smile curving her lips.

"To you," she said, "I must seem very old-fashioned. Oh, yes, I can
understand your point of view. If I have not travelled I have at least
read, and your English books make these things clear enough. But here
we are surrounded with the old customs. It is not possible to escape
from them. We are almost mediaeval."

"I am looking forward to studying your country closely," he said.
"What I have seen of it has charmed me. So far I have come across but
one thing which I would gladly change."

"And that?" she asked.

"Is the uniform of the Thetian Guards," he answered, turning slightly
in his chair. "I must confess that my body was never made for such
gorgeousness."

She laughed and struck the gong.

"Basil will show you to my brother's room," she said. "Wear any of his
clothes you choose."

He rose with alacrity.

"You will be safe--alone?" he asked, with a doubtful glance towards
the door.

She shrugged her shoulders.

"Domiloff has courage, I believe, of a sort," she answered, "but not
enough to bring him uninvited across the threshold of this house in my
brother's absence."

He followed the servant from the room, and was shown into a bedchamber
of huge proportions. He changed his clothes as quickly as possible for
those which were tendered to him, and returned to the room where he
had left the Countess. She welcomed him with a smile which she tried
in vain to suppress.

"You must forgive me," she said, as their eyes met. "Indeed, it is
hard to avoid a smile. My brother is of slight stature, and you are
very tall,--is it not so?"

"Oh, I don't mind," he answered, good-humouredly, conscious that his
trousers terminated at the ankle, and that the seams of his unbuttoned
coat were bursting. "I should be comfortable in anything since I have
got rid of that sword and the other thing like a satchel which kept
tripping me up. The management of a woman's train has always seemed to
me an accomplishment, but it is nothing compared with the difficulty
of walking like a soldier with those things whacking at your ankles
every few moments. One thing I can promise you and myself, Countess.
If Domiloff and the whole lot of them catch me nothing would induce me
to put on that uniform again."

"It was very becoming," she said, smilingly.

"You are making fun of me," he declared, reproachfully.

"Indeed I meant it," she assured him. "I never doubted but that you
were Ughtred of Tyrnaus!"

He felt absurdly pleased. There was a note of regret too in her tone.
Then, as though with some effort she addressed him more formally.

"You need have no fear," she said, "that Domiloff will find you here.
Neither he nor any of his creatures dare force their way into this
house. All that we must pray for now is the speedy coming of Nicholas
and the Prince."

Almost as she spoke they heard quick footsteps upon the corridor
outside. The door was thrown open.




CHAPTER XIV


Nicholas of Reist, closely followed by Prince Ughtred, strode into the
room. Marie uttered a little cry of joy--Brand drew a long sigh of
relief.

"Nicholas, at last!" she cried.

He seized her hands and drew her to him. Then he turned to Ughtred.

"You will not recognize your old playmate, Prince," he said. "Marie,
this is Prince Ughtred of Tyrnaus."

He bowed low before her, and she murmured a few words of greeting.
Then both Nicholas of Reist and Ughtred saw Brand standing underneath
the great chimneypiece.

"Brand!" the former cried. "Brand! How in God's name did you find your
way here?"

Brand smiled enigmatically.

"Listen," he said, "and I will tell you."

They stood grouped around him. He told his story tersely yet fully.
When he had finished there was a moment's breathless silence. He
pointed to the door.

"You have not a moment to lose," he exclaimed. "The people are
bewildered now, soon they will become impatient. The uniform is in the
room where I changed. Let Prince Ughtred put it on and speak to the
people from your balcony. It will turn Domiloff's hair grey, but he is
powerless. Listen!"

Once more brother and sister exchanged quick glances. Once more the
men of Theos, as with one throat, shouted for Nicholas of Reist. Marie
looked curiously towards the Prince. He was handsomer than Brand,
broader and of finer presence. Yet her eyes narrowed with something
which was akin to hate. In her heart she believed that her brother was
making a great mistake. It was a Reist this people wanted, not one of
his corrupt race.

"Brand is right!" Reist decided. "Prince, my servants will show you to
my room and assist you. I will speak a few words to the people and
prepare them for your coming."

From topmost storey to basement the Reist house flashed out in sudden
light. The people, who were weary of shouting in front of the palace,
marked the change, and a sudden rush took place. It was Reist who
stood there with his hands resting lightly upon the balustrade. A roar
of welcome greeted him. Now at last this mystery would be cleared up.
Then there followed a silence so intense, so breathless, that the very
air seemed charged with the tension of it. Reist's voice rang out like
a still, clear note, perfectly audible to all.

"My country people," he said, "not many days ago you charged me with a
mission. To-night I acquit myself of it. I bring you good news. The
illustrious soldier who has won fame fighting another country's
battles has never for one moment forgotten his name or his native
land, has never forgotten his descent from that great race of Tyrnaus
who, generations ago, made your country one to be feared and respected
throughout Europe. He is willing to come to our aid in these evil
times. He is a brave man and a just. He will rule you as a soldier
King! May the God of our ancestors bless his reign, and preserve for
everlasting the independence of Theos and the freedom of our sons!"

As the last word had left Reist's lips Ughtred of Tyrnaus in all the
bravery of his brilliant uniform passed through the great room. Marie,
who had been watching for him, shrank back at his near approach in
something like awe. For indeed it seemed as though Rudolph the Great,
whose picture frowned down upon them from the wainscotted wall, walked
once more in their midst. The unwonted excitement had given fire to
his features, seemed indeed to have added inches to his great stature.
No wonder that the people who saw him come raised their voices in a
great shout of welcome.

"A Tyrnaus! A Tyrnaus! God save the King!"

The band struck up the National Anthem, and from the throats of
thousands came that strange, thrilling air, the song of their liberty.
Prince Ughtred listened with tears in his eyes--and in the palace
Domiloff held his head and walked backwards and forwards in speechless
bewilderment. The last bars died away. Then Ughtred spoke to his
people, and these are some of the things which he said.

"Men of Theos, that song which you have sung has followed me into many
strange countries. I have ridden into battles with it in my ears, I
have heard it amongst the roaring of the guns and in the silent
watches of the night. To me it has always sounded like very sweet
music, for it has recalled to me ever my native land.... I, too, you
must remember, am a son of Theos. For long I have been an exile, but
no other country has ever seemed like home to me. Always I have hoped
that some day my lot might bring me back to the homeland amongst the
mountains so inexpressibly dear to all of us.... I, too, though far
away, have followed ever the fortunes of Theos. I have read of her
sufferings and her misfortunes. I have blushed with shame to read of
those, who, calling themselves her sons, would have bartered away her
liberty for gold.... And now you have done away with this hateful
Republic. The House of Laws is once more convoked. The Duke of Reist
has sought me out and brought from you a wonderful message. Well, I
know little of kingcraft, but I may at least call myself a soldier.
If the House of Laws will ratify your choice, nothing in this world
could make me happier than to throw in my lot with yours, to devote
my life to preserving for you and Theos that ancient and God-given
heritage--our freedom! This little State is surrounded, it is true, by
powerful enemies. Yet God is not always with the strong. Let us be
fearless, just, and slow to give offence. Then, if we are attacked, it
must be war to the bitter end. We can at least live like men and die
heroes. My people, if it comes to pass that I am chosen to be your
King, I can promise you this. While I live, and whilst a single one of
you will stand by my side, we will remain a free and independent
nation. We will hand to our children their birthright untarnished and
entire. This is my word to you, and if ever I fail to keep it may I
forfeit my place through all eternity by the side of my forefathers
who gave their lives for Theos."

The air was rent with frantic cheering. These were the words and this
the man to win their hearts. So throughout the crowd swept a
passionate and overwhelming wave of enthusiasm. Domiloff heard it and
swore unutterable things under his breath. Reist, for all that this
was his doing, felt a certain momentary anger with this people who had
taken a stranger so swiftly into their heart. Marie said nothing, but
her dark eyes were eloquent. Ughtred stepped back at last into the
room with a glow upon his face which for a moment transformed it.

"You are an orator, my friend," Reist said, quietly. "You have won
your throne. No House of Laws would refuse to confirm the choice of
such an assemblage."

"I think," Brand said, quietly, "that I will go round to the telegraph
office. The time has arrived when I may take a hand in the game."

From the corridor came the sound of hurried footsteps. Old Basil, the
major domo, threw open the door.

"The Baron Domiloff, your Excellency," he announced.




CHAPTER XV


The room was large and dimly lit. Domiloff, beside himself with anger,
saw only Ughtred's tall figure in resplendent uniform, standing
beneath the great carved mantelpiece. He addressed him fiercely.

"How is this?" he exclaimed. "How came you here? What is the meaning
of it?"

Ughtred looked at him for a moment gravely; then turned to Reist.

"Who is this person?" he asked. "Why does he address me in this
fashion?"

Reist looked from one to the other with a faint smile.

"Permit me to present to your Highness," he said, "Monsieur, the Baron
Domiloff, the representative of Russia in Theos."

Domiloff was white with rage.

"But it is a farce, this!" he exclaimed, fiercely. "Prince Ughtred and
I are not strangers. I demand an explanation, sir."

"An explanation of what?" Ughtred asked.

Domiloff was beside himself. His black eyes burned like live coals,
his cheeks were pallid almost to ghastliness, the muscles of his face
were twitching.

"Of your presence here, sir," he exclaimed. "Of your flight from the
palace, of your speech to the people. It was only an hour ago that you
declared yourself ignorant of the language. It seems that your
statement was false!"

"Baron Domiloff is suffering, perhaps, from some hallucination,"
Ughtred said, quietly. "I have never, to the best of my belief,
exchanged a word with him in my life. As to my flight from the palace,
I have never yet entered it; nor do I propose to do so until I enter
it as King of Theos."

Domiloff's senses were blinded with passion. The broader stature of
the Prince, his more military bearing and different accent were things
of which he took no note. He never once questioned the identity of the
man whom he was addressing so fiercely.

"Your Highness will deny next," he exclaimed, "that you travelled with
me from the frontier, that your word is pledged to sign a treaty with
Russia."

Ughtred shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"The duties of a minister plenipotentiary," he remarked, "are, I
believe, arduous. Baron Domiloff is suffering, without doubt, from
overwork. It is unnecessary for me to remark that I reached here on
horseback in company with my friend Reist, and that my word is pledged
to sign nothing--least of all a treaty with Russia."

Domiloff was absolutely speechless with passion. Brand came out from
the shadows amongst which he had been loitering, and faced the
Russian.

"Do you know," he said, amiably, "I believe that I can clear up this
little misunderstanding. Baron Domiloff is obviously mistaking you,
Prince Ughtred, for me."

Domiloff turned upon him swiftly.

"And who, sir, are you?" he asked, harshly.

"Walter Brand, journalist--the _Daily Courier_, you know."

Domiloff caught up the lamp which stood on the long oaken table, and
looked steadily from one to the other of the two men. When he set it
down there was a queer, bitter, little smile upon his lips. The moment
was one of unspeakable humiliation to him. He, a seasoned diplomatist,
trusted by his master, feared and respected everywhere, had been
befooled and outwitted--by an Englishman!

"I beg to offer my tardy congratulations to your Highness," he said,
bowing to Ughtred. "My mistake was an unpardonable one. Yet this
gentleman is, perhaps, also of the family of Tyrnaus? The resemblance
is certainly remarkable."

"Mr. Brand is not connected in any way with my family," Ughtred
answered. "The resemblance between us is merely a coincidence--to
which it seems I owe my presence here, Baron Domiloff."

The Russian remained silent. He stood with bowed head, awaiting the
storm.

"It appears," Ughtred continued, "that by proxy I was drugged and
detained upon the frontier by your orders. For these doings I shall
certainly, when the proper moment arrives, demand an explanation."

Domiloff raised his eyes for a moment. His expression was inscrutable.

"When the time comes, your Highness," he said, "I shall be prepared to
satisfy you."

He passed from the room without any formal leave-taking. Reist looked
after him thoughtfully.

"An enemy! Well, at least we are forewarned. Prince Ughtred, there
will be no rest for you now, or, I fear, for many days. Domiloff has
gone without doubt to the barracks. We must forestall him. I have
ordered fresh horses to be brought to the door. Marie, some wine! We
are thirsty! Wine from the King's cup!"

A servant, whose livery seemed but a slight modification of the native
dress, brought some dust-covered bottles. Marie, with her own hand,
unlocked an oaken cabinet, and produced some quaint horn cups,
emblazoned in gold, with the Reist arms. One larger than the others
she set before the Prince.

"They were a present," Reist said, "from Rudolph the Second to my
great-grandfather. The cup you have is called the King's cup. No one
who is not of Royal birth has ever drunk out of it. Permit me!"

He filled it to the brim, and Ughtred, who was thirsty, raised it
gladly to his lips. Reist and Brand waited.

"To Theos and her King," Reist said, gravely. "This is our ancient
toast. May her sons be ever brave, her rulers wise, and her soil
fruitful! God save the King!"

They drank together. Marie stood at the head of the table, her dark
eyes full of silent fires, her fingers nervously twitching. Ughtred
turned towards her.

"You, too," he said, "must drink with us. Nay, I will have no refusal.
You will honour me."

He held his cup towards her. She shook her head.

"Not from the King's cup," she said. "See, I have a goblet here."

But Ughtred was insistent.

"I have the weakness of my forefathers," he declared, "and I am
superstitious. It will be for my good fortune, and the good fortune of
Theos. You shall drink with me from the King's cup."

A spot of colour burned in the girl's cheeks. She drew back. A swift
glance passed between brother and sister. It was Reist who answered.

"Your Highness," he said, gravely, "in this little corner of the earth
we hold hard to all our old traditions, and for more than a hundred
years--ay, since first that cup was fashioned, none have drunk from it
save only those of the royal House, and----"

He hesitated. Ughtred waited for him to continue.

"And their betrothed."

Ughtred started. Marie looked downwards, and the deep colour mounted
even to her forehead. There was a moment's silence. Then the spirit of
obstinacy which had been kindled in Ughtred prevailed.

"I take upon my own shoulders," he said, smiling, "all the evil that
may come of it, and I pray, Countess Marie, that you will honour me by
drinking from my cup."

She lifted her head, and the eyes of brother and sister met once
more--a single electric moment. Ughtred was conscious of little save
of a masterful desire to have his own way. His blue eyes were filled
with a compelling light. Perhaps, too, a little admiration was
apparent in his bronzed, handsome face. Marie took the cup, and
raised it to her lips.

"I drink," she murmured, "to the welfare of Theos, and to her King!"

There was another brief but curiously intense silence. Reist was
standing apart with folded arms and absorbed face--Brand, too, had set
down his cup, and was watching Marie. Ughtred had an uneasy feeling
that what he had regarded merely as an act of courtesy had become a
sacrament. The entrance of a servant was a relief to them all.

"The horses, your Grace," he announced, "are at the side door. The
people are lining the way to the barracks."

Reist roused himself quickly.

"Your Highness is ready!" he exclaimed. "There is not a moment to
lose. We shall know now how deep is the corruption which Domiloff's
gold has caused."

Ughtred drained his cup and stood up.

"I am ready!" he declared.




CHAPTER XVI


"It is not only your country's welfare," Domiloff said, "which
trembles in the balance. It is her very existence. I appeal to you,
General Dartnoff--to you, Bushnieff. If you accept this man, Theos as
an independent country will soon be blotted from the map."

Domiloff stood leaning with his back against the long deal table.
Gathered together before him were a dozen men or more in the
undress uniform of the Moranian Guards. Dartnoff, his white hair
brushed straight back from his forehead, a tall, soldierly figure
notwithstanding his sixty years, stepped a little forward.

"My friend, Domiloff," he said, "we are gathered here, as you know, in
a state of some indecision. I will frankly admit that as yet we have
not made up our minds how to act. Yet it seems to me that you go a
little far. We have more faith in ourselves and in the destinies of
our ancient kingdom than you seem willing to give us credit for. The
end might be as you say supposing we found ourselves involved with one
of the great Powers. But let me assure you, Baron Domiloff, that the
contest would be no bloodless one. Theos has held her own, beset
though she has been by powerful enemies, for many centuries."

A little murmur of applause escaped from the lips of those gathered
around him. Domiloff held up his hand.

"The past of your country," he exclaimed, "is a magnificent chapter
in history. It is the more incumbent upon you to see that she has a
future. Warfare to-day has become a science. Reckless bravery is no
longer the surety of success. Theos is without any of the modern
appliances of war. Her artillery is ancient and her guns fit for the
dust-heap. General Dartnoff, a heavy responsibility rests upon your
shoulders."

Dartnoff stroked his long grey moustache thoughtfully.

"Domiloff, my friend," he said, "you appear a little flurried, but you
are also very much in earnest. Now speak to us exactly the words which
are in your heart. You have advice to give, eh? Well, we will listen."

Domiloff moved to the high bare window, and looked downwards towards
the town. As yet there was no sign of the figures which he dreaded to
see. He faced once more the little assemblage.

"Here are plain words," he said, speaking rapidly, and with rising
colour. "If I have seemed evasive hitherto it is because I come to
persuade, not to dictate, and I know that the tempers of you men of
Theos are easily kindled. Nicholas of Reist brings to-day a forgotten
descendant of the Tyrnaus family, and with your consent would make him
King. I say with your consent, because the House of Laws is nothing
to-day but a farcical assembly, and they will do what Reist bids them.
The real decision rests with you. Listen. Russia will refuse to
recognize this man. If you accept him her restraining hand upon Turkey
will be removed. Russia herself may not think it worth while to move
against you, but even now in secret the Turks are massing upon your
borders. They wait only for the signal."

Dartnoff nodded gravely.

"Well," he said, "let us hear what will happen to us supposing we
accept your warning and refuse to recognize Ughtred of Tyrnaus."

"The protection of Russia," Domiloff cried, eagerly. "My master
himself shall guarantee your independence. I will give you pledges.
You will reserve for a friend and an ally the most generous of the
Powers. But you must be quick," he added, with a sudden start. "Now is
the time for you to act. Close the gates upon those who come here
to-night. It shall be your answer."

Dartnoff shook his head.

"I cannot do that," he said. "Nicholas of Reist is a colonel in our
army, and he has the right to enter here at any time."

There was the thunder of hoofs in the courtyard. Domiloff bit his lip
and looked nervously around.

"Reist is a traitor," he exclaimed. "It is against the law to harbour
a Tyrnaus."

"We will hear what our friend Nicholas of Reist has to say," Dartnoff
answered, coldly. "You might perhaps find it advisable to retire,
Baron Domiloff."

The door was thrown open. Nicholas and Ughtred entered. General
Dartnoff stepped forward.

"General," Nicholas exclaimed, "and brother officers of the Thetian
Guards. I have the honour to present you to Prince Ughtred of
Tyrnaus."

Ughtred held out his hand frankly. But there was not one of them who
did not bow low, after the manner of one making an obeisance rather
than exchanging greetings.

"Your names are well known to me," Ughtred said. "I believe that by
hereditary right I may call myself a colonel in your regiment and a
brother officer."

Dartnoff bowed.

"Your Highness is pleased to remember what is undoubtedly a fact," he
said. "The brave deeds of Captain Erlito in the Soudan have been a
source of pride to all of us."

Ughtred smiled with pleasure--and Nicholas, with his hand upon his
sword, addressed General Dartnoff in clear tones.

"General Dartnoff," he said, "I take the liberty of addressing you as
Commander-in-Chief of the Thetian army. The Republic of Theos has
ceased by reason of its own misdeeds to exist. I have always, as you
know, refused to recognize its legislation. I claim that its decree
abolishing the ancient monarchy and establishing a republic here was
invalid and worthless. We have been made the laughing-stock of Europe
by the gold-bought merchants and traitors who have presumed to occupy
the high places of Theos. That is all at an end. It rests with us to
restore honour and dignity to our country. There is but one way, but
that a sure one, General Dartnoff and brother officers. We come here
alone and unattended, but had we wished it we could have stormed your
walls with half the population of Theos at our backs. I call upon you
all to take the oath of allegiance to Ughtred of Tyrnaus, King of
Theos, by divine right and the choice of the people."

General Dartnoff hesitated for a moment.

"Duke of Reist," he said, slowly. "You ask us to take a step on the
impulse of the moment from which there could be no drawing back, which
for good or for evil must decide forever the destinies of our country.
Whatever my own personal inclinations might be, I owe it to my brother
officers, and to our deep sense of patriotism to consult with them for
a few minutes."

Reist would have spoken hastily, but Ughtred checked him.

"General Dartnoff has spoken like a wise man," he said. "I am content
to wait."

With folded arms, drawn to his full height, a commanding figure
indeed, Ughtred of Tyrnaus stood by the window looking down upon the
city and the country which he loved. General Dartnoff, surrounded by
his officers, stood at the head of the table. In the further corner of
the room where the shadows were deepest Domiloff lurked. He watched
their faces, and he knew that the game was lost.

Only a very few minutes had gone by before Dartnoff approached the two
men by the window.

"Your Highness," he said, to Ughtred, with marked respect. "There is
one question which we feel constrained to ask."

Ughtred bowed.

"As many as you will," he answered.

"In your coronation oath you swear to maintain inviolate the
independence of Theos. We would know if at all costs, though the cost
should be famine, death or annihilation, will you keep this oath to
the letter?"

"May God have no mercy upon me hereafter if ever I should depart from
it one hair's-breadth," Ughtred answered, with a sudden note of
passion surging up in his tone. "I have no fancy for ruling a
tributary state, sir. My forefathers have held safely for Theos
through long generations the priceless gift of her liberty, and I
would sooner die a thousand times over than that mine should be the
hand to part with it."

General Dartnoff dropped on his knee, and drawing his sword from his
scabbard, kissed its hilt.

"Your Majesty," he said, "we are all your faithful servants."




CHAPTER XVII


"Well!"

Reist unfastened his sword. The State uniform of the Thetian Guards
was cumbersome, and the day was hot.

"Let Basil bring me wine," he ordered. "The cathedral was a furnace.
Everywhere the air seems hot with the shouting of the people."

"Up here," Marie said, "the clamour of voices has seemed incessant. I
have never heard anything like it."

He walked up and down moodily. He was not sure whether the day had
gone according to his liking. All the time her eyes questioned him.

"One thing," he declared, "is certain. Never again will a republic
exist in Theos. Two generations of _roues_ and madmen have not
sickened this people of the House of Tyrnaus. Their loyalty is
amazing."

"This man," she said, "is neither _roue_ nor madman."

"It is true," he admitted.

He drank his wine, and as he set the glass down he felt her watching
him. He understood the unspoken question in her deep, blue eyes.

"Of his betrothal," Reist said, slowly, "there was no word."

She drew herself up haughtily, a slim, stately figure in her
magnificent white dress, caught up with jewels, and the curious
bejewelled head-dress which in Theos was the symbol of her rank. Yet
Nicholas, who watched her closely, caught the gleam of something in
her eyes which surprised him. It was more like relief than anger.

"Was our ancient usage explained to him?" she asked.

"Yes! I told him that an unmarried king was contrary to the
time-sanctioned custom of our country. I told him that the
announcement of his betrothal should be made at the moment of
his coronation. The people expected it, and it would add immensely
to his popularity."

"You told him that?"

"Yes!"

"And he answered?"

"He answered me with a jest. As yet he was not prepared to marry or to
think of marriage. He preferred to retain his liberty."

She bit her lip, and the colour mantled in her cheeks.

"And you?"

He hesitated.

"It was after the words of the ceremony. He was my king. Between a
Reist and a Tyrnaus the difference is purely accidental. The Reists
are, indeed, the older and the nobler family. But between a Reist and
his king there is a gulf. I cannot point my sword against him."

She walked restlessly up and down the room. Her thoughts were in
confusion. For some vague, unacknowledged cause, her first impulse had
been one of relief. She had expected a formal offer for her hand, and
she would scarcely admit even to herself that that expectation had
been a dread. Yet to be ignored touched her pride keenly. She stopped
by her brother's chair.

"What, then?" she asked. "Am I, the Countess Marie of Reist, to be
flouted and passed over by a beggarly soldier, whose life has been
spent as an adventurer, because the blood of the House of Tyrnaus is
in his veins and chance has brought him to the throne? Nicholas, am I
to look to you in vain to avenge this insult?"

The man's eyes flashed fire.

"Be patient, Marie," he answered. "Ughtred of Tyrnaus has lived in
strange countries all his life, and imbibed the hateful modernisms of
the West. Let us wait for a little. Perhaps he does not understand.
Perhaps the time would seem to him too short even for a royal wooing.
We will watch and wait. Meanwhile, listen. This is certain. If Ughtred
of Tyrnaus lives out his reign, you and no other shall be his queen.
That at least I can answer for."

She shrugged her shoulders.

"It may be," she said, "that when he is ready he may find his
opportunity gone. The throne of Theos will be no bed of roses. In the
meantime, I at least shall not go to the palace."

Reist looked doubtful.

"It was arranged," he reminded her, "that you should receive the wives
of the Ministers. It is your right of birth."

"I renounce it then for the present," she answered. "Let him see how
the fat old Kolashin woman will look on his left hand."

Her brother watched her thoughtfully. Then he shrugged his shoulders.

"Women are all alike," he said to himself, bitterly, on his way to the
palace. "She is in love with Ughtred of Tyrnaus. She has drunk with
him from the King's cup. It is enough!"

       *       *       *       *       *

"Baron Domiloff!"

She rose to her feet perplexed--a little annoyed. It was a visit which
she did not understand. He came swiftly across the lawn to her,
unattended and unannounced.

"I do not understand," she said, as he bowed low before her. "My
servants have no authority to send you here. I am not receiving this
afternoon--and you--you surely should be at the palace."

"I offer my most profound apologies, Countess," he said respectfully.
"Your servants are not at fault. It was my persistence which
prevailed."

"You have some message for me?" she asked, doubtfully.

"None," he answered. "I have come here on my own initiative. You will
permit me the honour of a few minutes' interview. As to my absence
from the palace, is that more likely to be remarked upon than yours,
Countess?"

She waived the question.

"It is at least more surprising," she answered. "Do you wish your
Austrian friends to have it all their own way with the King?"

"The Countess of Reist's sympathies are, I fear," he murmured, "with
my rival."

"My sympathies," she answered, "are with neither of you. You each seek
aggrandizement at our expense. I am a Thetian, and I believe that the
less we have to do with foreigners the better. But I do not see, Baron
Domiloff, what profit there can be in a discussion of this sort
between you and me. I am still waiting for an explanation of your
presence here. Which of my servants has proved faithless?"

"None," he answered. "I made my way here unknown to anybody. I came,
Countess, to ask you a question."

"Well!"

He did not immediately reply. There was a good deal at stake, and her
manner was not encouraging. In the end it came, however.

"Is it true what they are whispering in the city--that you have drunk
with Ughtred of Tyrnaus from the King's cup?"

The Countess rose from her seat with flashing eyes. The Russian stood
his ground, however, respectful, insistent, having well calculated the
effect of his words.

"What an infamy--that you should dare to come here and ask me such a
question. If you will not leave me at once, sir, I myself must return
to the house. Your presence here is an insult."

Domiloff stood in the centre of the path, and his manner was the
manner of a man who has something to say, and will surely say it.

"Countess," he exclaimed, "I can claim no more with you, it is true,
than the merest acquaintance, but I beg of you to consider whether I
have the reputation of doing foolish things or asking foolish
questions. You may not believe it, but I have the good of your country
at heart. We in Russia desire an independent Theos. When I see her,
therefore, drifting gradually towards certain destruction, I brave all
things to save her."

She regarded him steadfastly, still angry, but a trifle curious.

"Explain yourself, sir--if any explanation is possible."

"Countess," he answered, "for the sake of your country, answer my
question."

She hesitated. Her cheeks were flushed. She drew herself up proudly.

"You are well served, Baron," she said. "Your spies, it seems, can
penetrate even within the walls of the Reist house. Yet the matter is
no secret. I have drunk with Ughtred of Tyrnaus from the King's cup."

He inclined his head slowly.

"Yes," he said, "I was sure of it. Yet you have done well to tell me.
Now I will tell you this. Ughtred of Tyrnaus before he had been King
an hour sent to London to summon here an American woman with whom he
had been--on the best terms in London."

She was thoughtful for a moment.

"You are sure of this?"

"I am sure of it," he answered.

"Is she of noble birth?"

Domiloff, who had been in New York, smiled faintly.

"She is an American," he answered. "Her father was a shopkeeper, her
grandfather a labourer. He intends to marry her!"

"That is impossible," she answered, curtly. "The people of Theos would
not permit it."

"When did a Tyrnaus," he asked, "ever consider the welfare or opinion
of his subjects when the gratification of a caprice was concerned."

She shrugged her shoulders.

"And why," she asked, "do you bring this news to me?"

"To give you an opportunity of saving your country," he answered,
promptly. "See, I will risk everything--I tell you the whole truth.
Ughtred of Tyrnaus is not acceptable to my master as King of Theos. We
know the race too well. They are not to be trusted--the integrity of
the State is not safe in their hands. There is only one man who is the
Heaven-designed ruler of Theos!"

"And he?"

"It is your brother!"

Now, indeed, she was interested. A rush of colour warmed her cheeks.
The frigidity of her manner vanished as though by magic.

"I myself have told him so," she exclaimed. "When the people rose
against the republic they called for him. It was the golden
opportunity which he failed to seize."

"It will come again," he assured her, earnestly. "I give you my word
that it will come again. That shall be my care. Yours is to see that
next time he is prepared."

"Why do you not yourself speak to him?" she asked.

He smiled.

"You know your brother. The knowledge should answer that question. He
has sworn loyalty to Ughtred of Tyrnaus, and for good or for evil he
will keep his vow. We must wait till the thing is inevitable."

"And I," she murmured, "I, too, am a Reist, and he is my king."

"You are the first lady in Theos," he answered, "and you will not be
content to bend your knee day by day before a plebeian. I will prove
to you that I am sincere. If the King seeks your hand in marriage, I
will not raise a little finger against him. But we will not support
another Tyrnaus in another reign of folly. We will not recognize a
king who places by his side upon the throne the daughter of
tradespeople."

"It would be infamous," she murmured.

"Dear lady," he said softly, "try to forget that I am a Russian, or
that Russia was ever your fancied enemy. An independent Theos is my
policy, it is your religion. Let us work hand in hand."

The old distrust was hard to smother. She gave him the tips of her
fingers.

"You can speak with me again," she said. "I make no promises. I will
watch."




CHAPTER XVIII


Ughtred, with a deep sigh of relief, sank into an easy-chair, and
mopped his forehead in most unkingly fashion. He had escaped for a
moment into the royal ante-room.

"Nicholas," he exclaimed, "if I am to be preserved for the service of
the State order me a whisky-and-soda. This is harder work than our
ride from Castle Reist."

Reist touched the bell and smiled.

"It is not yet concluded," he said. "I have many yet upon my list who
have not been presented to your Majesty. There must be no
heartburnings to-night. We must make no enemies."

Ughtred sat up with a sudden sense of injury.

"Nicholas," he demanded, "where is your sister?"

Reist's face was imperturbable.

"My sister," he said, "regretted exceedingly her inability to be
present. She will pay her respects to your Majesty later."

The King frowned. His manner was impatient.

"It is now that I require her help," he said. "The Baroness is an
utter impossibility. Her French is unrecognizable, she remembers no
one, and the woman herself with her dyed hair and feathers is a
caricature. Your sister must really make an effort, Reist. She must
come and help me out."

"I will see that your Majesty's wishes," Reist answered quietly, "are
conveyed to her."

The King eyed him keenly. Reist then was concealing something. His
sister's absence was not motiveless.

"On reflection," he said, "I desire to emphasize my wishes. Your
sister's absence is significant, and might possibly be commented upon.
You will go yourself and fetch her, Nicholas. Say that I desire her
immediate presence."

"Your Majesty," Reist protested, "my sister may have to make her
toilette. Her immediate return with me will doubtless be impossible."

"The Countess will use her own discretion as to the time she keeps me
waiting," Ughtred answered coolly. "I have told you that I shall await
your return."

Reist turned away with immovable face. Ughtred remained in the
ante-room alone. He lit a cigarette, and took a pile of telegrams from
the table by his side. Selecting the topmost he read it thoughtfully
to himself.

     "My best wishes to you and for the welfare of your kingdom.
     May my offering remain forever an ornament. May peace and
     happiness be the lot of your people and your own.--SARA VAN
     DECHT."

"A coronation present with such a wish," he said to himself, "must
remain an enigma. Enter."

An attendant withdrew the curtain.

"Captain Hartzan, of the Artillery, desires a moment's audience with
your Majesty," the servant announced.

The King nodded.

"Let him be shown in."

A young officer bowed low as he passed through the curtains.

"Your Majesty," he announced, "a messenger has arrived at the barracks
from the English firm of Vickers, Son, and Maxim. He is in charge of a
whole battery of Maxims and quick-firing pom-poms, and awaits
instructions as to their delivery."

"I know nothing of them," the King answered. "I understood that the
firm you mention had declined the orders of the late Government."

"It is true, your Majesty," the officer answered, "and in consequence
we have scarcely a modern gun at the barracks. The battery which has
arrived here was intended for the Russian Government, but was
purchased, the person in charge informs me, by a private individual
for cash, as a coronation present to your Majesty."

The King started.

"Are you sure that there is no mistake?" he asked.

"None, your Majesty," the officer answered. "The messenger is quite
explicit. It is a princely gift. Colonel Dartnoff instructed me to
make an immediate report to your Majesty."

Ughtred for a moment was puzzled.

"I know of no one," he said reflectively, "who could make such a
present."

The young officer hesitated.

"The artillery man in charge, your Majesty, claims to have seen the
donor's cheque. It was a draft upon Rothschilds, drawn by an American
of the name of Van Decht."

Ughtred caught up the telegram by his side. His eyes were suddenly
bright. He understood.

"You will inform the agent in charge," he said, "that I will receive
him to-morrow, and arrange a date to inspect the battery."

The young officer bowed respectfully, and withdrew. Reist took his
place. The King eyed him sternly, for at first it seemed to him that
so prompt a return was significant.

"Well, sir!"

Reist lifted the curtain. Marie stood there in Court dress, her long
train held by pages in the Reist livery, her neck and arms ablaze with
jewels, a coronet of pearls upon her forehead. She was a little pale,
and she carried herself with more than ordinary dignity. The King
rose, and, bowing low, raised her hands to his lips.

"You are very welcome, Countess of Reist," he said, "although you are
amongst the latest of those who have come to offer their good wishes."

"I have come," she answered, "in obedience to your Majesty's
commands."

"Commands!" He smiled good-humouredly. "It is very unkind of you," he
said, "to have thought of deserting me on such a day as this."

"My brother----"

"Oh, Nicholas is invaluable," the King declared, lightly. "He can tell
me what to say to the men, but it is in receiving the women I need
your help."

"The Baroness Kolashin is as well acquainted with our countrywomen as
I," Marie answered. "I did not doubt but that her aid would be
sufficient."

"The Baroness," Ughtred answered, "has done her best; but another hour
by her side would rob me of the few wits I have left. I should like to
know for what special sin I was committed to her charge."

Marie shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly, but she did not smile.

"I am at your Majesty's service," she said.

Ughtred was puzzled. In what manner had he offended her?

"If my message seemed to you peremptory," he said, "will you not
ascribe it to my desire to taste the full measure of my powers? I know
nothing of the privileges of a king save what I have read in books.
But it seems to me that included amongst them must surely be the
privilege of choosing one's companions--and one's friends."

"Your Majesty," Marie answered, "may find that a rash assumption. It
may lead to disappointment. Friends are scarcely to be made in a day,
or to order. You must send for some of those whom you have left behind
in England."

He looked at her, curious to know if anything lurked behind those
words.

"Mine has not been the sort of life," he said, quietly, "which leads
to the making of friendships. I have been a wanderer always, and a
lonely one. I had hoped to fill the empty places--here."

There was a note of appeal in his tone--dignified, yet not in a sense
without pathos. He glanced at Nicholas, but he looked first at Marie.
A faint touch of colour flushed her cheeks. Her manner was visibly
softened.

"I trust that your Majesty may not be disappointed," she said. And her
eyes fell before his for the first time.

A crash of music reminded them of those who still waited to bow before
the King. So they passed out into the great ballroom, and mounting the
dais, Marie stood on the King's left hand. The room was a blaze of
light, of brilliant uniforms and beautiful dresses. At ten o'clock,
Reist came up with a look of relief upon his face, and a gleam of
excitement in his eyes.

"The English Minister and his wife, your Majesty," he murmured. "It is
excellent. The others will follow."

The news spread. A little flutter of joy rippled through the room. The
coming of this dignified, kindly old man, with his grey hair and
single decoration, was the one thing needed. Theos had taken to
herself a King, asking leave of no one, but the countenance of some at
least of the Powers was a vital thing. At the informal coronation,
rushed through by Reist and his friends, not one of the Ministers had
been present. Domiloff, with smooth face and with many lying regrets,
had presented an interdictory note from Russia, but owing to the
peculiar conditions prevailing there had not been until after the
coronation any properly-appointed person to receive it. The late
foreign Minister had refused it with a smile and a polite word of
regret, and his example had been followed by every member of the
Royalist party. There was, they explained, at the moment no
government, no officials, no Minister. Their various appointments
were arranged for and would be confirmed immediately after the
coronation. Until then they were only private persons. So Domiloff,
with a suave jest and a shrug of his shoulders, shut himself up in his
house, while the cathedral bells clashed and the cannon roared from
the walls.

The English Minister was followed in quick succession by the
representatives of France and Austria, and with their coming a certain
sense of restraint passed away from the brilliant assemblage. Before
there had been a certain sense of unreality in the whole thing. The
tone of the rejoicings had been feverish--who could tell but that in a
week this thing might not have passed away like a mirage. Now a
heartier note altogether prevailed, especially amongst the men. There
were no more side glances, or shrugged shoulders--the volcano no
longer trembled beneath their feet. Dancing commenced, and the King
stood up with Marie of Reist. At supper she remained on his right
hand. Many people spoke to Reist of this.

"It is excellent, Duke," declared old Baron Kolashin, once
Commander-in-Chief of the Army. "Theos needs no outside alliance. It
means only entanglement. That," he inclined his head to where Marie
and the King were talking, "will send Theos crazy with joy."

Reist shook his head.

"You anticipate, my dear Kolashin," he answered. "Our Court circle is,
as you know, small, and Marie's rank entitles her to receive. But this
is only their second meeting. I am sure that as yet no such idea has
entered the King's head."

Kolashin twirled his fierce moustache, and smiled knowingly.

"Eh, but my friend, there is a report that they have drunk together
from the King's cup. How about that?"

"It is true," Reist admitted, "but the King knows nothing of the
history of the cup. His offer was one of gallantry--no more. They were
children together."

The general chuckled.

"Marie is a beautiful girl," he said. "There is none like her in
Theos. Eh, but if I were young again."

He went off smiling to himself.

Reist was touched on the arm by Brand.

"May I speak to you for a moment, Duke?"

"By all means."

"There is still one of the foreign Ministers absent besides Domiloff."

Reist nodded.

"Effenden Pascha. There is yet time, however."

"Effenden Pascha is not coming," Brand said.

Reist eyed him sharply.

"How do you know that?"

"I was at the palace gates," Brand answered, "when Effenden Pascha
drove up. He was on the point of entering when he was accosted by our
friend Domiloff."

Reist's face grew black as night.

"The hound!" he murmured. "Go on!"

"They stayed talking for five minutes or more. Eventually they both
reentered Effenden Pascha's carriage and were driven off."

"The wolf and the dog," Reist cried, fiercely. "Let them beware how
they bark at the gates of Theos."

He was white almost to the lips with anger. Brand watched him
curiously.

"I do not believe that you people like the Turks," he remarked.

Reist turned upon him with a sudden violent gesture. His voice was
low, but charged with passionate hate.

"Like them! To us they are as vermin, a pest upon the face of the
earth. You wonder why! I tell you that it is because we know them,
because their border villages are in touch with ours, we know their
life and the manner of it. I could tell you things which you dare not
put in print; stories which, if English people read in your paper they
would brand you a liar. So, my friend, Brand, believe this. There is
not a true Thetian breathing who would not rather die himself and kill
his wife and children than that the Turks should enter Theos....
Pardon me!"

He moved away with a quick, expressive gesture. Brand remained in his
corner, and presently the King with Marie of Reist upon his arm passed
by. They paused before him.

"Come, Brand," Ughtred remarked, "why so thoughtful? You must dance,
my friend."

"Your Majesty," Brand answered, "I was pondering upon the inequalities
of life. Yesterday I was a King, and a most uncomfortable position it
was! To-day you are King--and"--he glanced at Marie--"it is a trial to
one's disposition to refrain from envy."

Marie detached her hand softly from the King's sleeve.

"So gallant a speech, sir," she said, smiling, "must be rewarded. You
have not yet asked me to dance!"




CHAPTER XIX


"It seems to me," she said, quietly, "that all men must be ambitious,
that the love of power must be a part of their very existence."

"In England," he remarked, "we are more circumscribed, our limits are
more exact. Yet I suppose in our small way we all flutter our wings."

"I have a curiosity to understand things," she said, leaning back and
fanning herself slowly. "Help me to understand yourself."

He smiled.

"Do I puzzle you then?"

"A little--yes!"

"How?"

She looked at him reflectively out of her dark, full eyes. He looked
into them once and turned away--he scarcely knew why.

"You do not seem to me," she said, "like a man who would be content
with small things. You outwitted Domiloff himself. Yet you call
yourself a writer, and you are perhaps content?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Why not? There is excitement in it. One travels everywhere, meets
strange types of people, penetrates into unknown countries, carries
often one's life in one's hands. Oh, it's not a bad life."

"Perhaps," she answered, "I do not quite understand. Our newspapers
in Theos are different. You then are content?"

Again that curious searching gaze from the most beautiful eyes into
which he had ever looked. Brand, in whose life women had played a
small part, was unaccountably ill at ease. His easy nonchalance of
manner had deserted him. Content! He looked for a moment into his
future, and was astonished to find in it a new emptiness. She bent
over towards him, and at her touch a thrill went through his veins,
and set his heart beating to a new music.

"Just now," she murmured, "you told the King--that you envied him. Was
it true?"

"For the moment," he answered, "I think that it was."

"You then would like to be a king?"

He laughed, and answered her with a forced lightness.

"I? Not I! It would not suit me at all."

"What did you mean, then?" she persisted.

"I think," he said, "that I was a little lonely. You see I know none
of these people. I am a stranger, and I felt a little out of my
element. And then--then he came by with you, and--well, I wished I
were in his place."

She laughed very softly.

"So far as I am concerned," she murmured, "you very soon had your
wish."

"It was very kind of you," he said, "to take pity upon me."

"I think that I wanted to talk to you again," she said. "I am tired of
all these people. Tell me, Mr. Brand, how long will you stay on in
Theos?"

"I am not sure," he answered, "perhaps a week, perhaps a month. It
depends upon my paper. They may recall me at any time."

She frowned, and stopped fanning herself.

"Why do you go back?" she said, abruptly. "Why do you not stay in
Theos?"

"There is no place here for me," he answered. "I am a stranger."

"You say," she continued, "that in your own country the limits of life
are being drawn closer. Why do you not make for yourself a career in a
country like this? Theos has need of such men as you."

He shook his head.

"Theos has her own sons to direct her future. I am a stranger."

"So is the King!"

"But he is a Tyrnaus. The people have chosen him for their King."

"You are his friend," she said, "and to you I may not say very much.
But he is young, and he may make mistakes. He comes of a family who
have done much evil here."

Brand was startled.

"I thought that you and your brother were his chief supporters," he
said. "People are saying, too----"

Her fan stopped. Brand hesitated.

"Please to go on," she said, imperiously.

"It is not my affair," he continued, awkwardly. "I ought not to have
alluded to it. But they are speaking of the possibilities of a
marriage between you and him."

The slow waving of white feathers recommenced. He felt that she was
looking at him; almost in spite of himself their eyes met. He looked
away with hot cheeks and burning eyes. Was this girl a trained
coquette, or----

"I do not think," she said, "that you need consider that. I do not
think that I shall ever marry Ughtred of Tyrnaus."

Despite himself he spoke the thoughts which had filled his mind.

"You," he said, "are ambitious. Have you no desire to be a queen?"

"I love power," she answered, "but I am a woman--and I do not wish to
marry Ughtred of Tyrnaus."

Brand told himself fiercely that he was a fool. Yet the music was
suddenly sweeter, his vague antipathy to the King had vanished into
thin air, the taste of life was sweeter between his teeth.

"You may think me mad," he said, "but I am--not sorry--to hear it."

There was a short silence. It was evident that if she thought him mad
she was not displeased.

"Some day," she said, presently, "I should like to talk to you of
Theos. I believe that before long there will be great changes here. A
new order of things may come--and you are one of those whom Theos may
look to for help."

"I?" he repeated. "But, indeed, Countess, you are overrating me. I am
only a journalist. I know nothing of statecraft."

"You are a strong man," she answered, "and strong men are scarce.
Promise me that you will not leave Theos without letting me know."

"I am not likely to do that," he said. "If ever I can help you or your
country I would do it willingly. But you will remember that I am the
friend of Ughtred of Tyrnaus."

"You may have other friends--is it not so?"

The significance of her speech once more filled him with new
emotions--half-delightful--half-uneasy. A sudden passionate impulse
came to him to seize the little white hand all ablaze with jewels
which hung over the arm of her chair so near to his. He mastered it
with a stupendous effort. They sat there in a silence which was to him
almost ecstatic. Then Nicholas of Reist stood suddenly before them,
his black eyebrows contracted into a lowering frown.

"Marie," he said, "the King is asking for you."

She shrugged her shoulders, and rose without haste.

"I think," she said, "that I have done my duty--and I am tired. I
should like to go home, Nicholas."

"You must make your adieux, in any case," he answered, giving her his
arm, and ignoring Brand. "No one is leaving yet, and there is to be a
display of fireworks in the grounds."

She looked over her shoulder to Brand with a parting smile.

"Good-night, Mr. Brand. I have enjoyed my rest very much."

He bowed low, and remained for a moment alone in the Palm House.
Through the open windows came the sound of ascending rockets hissing
through the still night air--the grounds were ablaze with lights. He
passed out, and mingled with the crowd of people.




CHAPTER XX


Illuminations, fireworks, and the thunder of saluting cannon closed
the day. The excited crowds dispersed slowly to their homes, the
National Hymn ceased at last to echo through the squares and streets.
Towards midnight Domiloff, who had left the palace early, knocked at
the door of a large white house in the Place des Estrangers, and was
at once admitted. He passed into a hall furnished after the Turkish
style, and into the presence of Effenden Pascha.

The Turk was still in the uniform and jewelled turban which he had
donned for the reception at the palace. He greeted Domiloff eagerly.
They conversed in French.

"It is well that you have come," the Turk exclaimed. "To-morrow it
will be known in Constantinople that you and I alone of the foreign
Ministers failed to attend the reception of the new King. How am I to
explain this, Domiloff?"

Domiloff nodded, and lit a cigarette.

"Listen, Effenden Pascha," he said, quietly. "I have within the last
few minutes received a message from St. Petersburg ordering me to
recognize on behalf of Russia, Ughtred of Tyrnaus. It does not suit my
country just at present to be at variance with the other Powers.
Accordingly I must present myself at the palace to-morrow. You,
however, are outside the concert. Now, listen. I speak truth, do I
not, when I say that the ancient enmity between your country and
Theos is still a live thing--that but for the Powers your soldiers
would long ago have pillaged Theos, and sacked the city?"

"It is true," Effenden Pascha admitted. "What then?"

"The accession of Ughtred of Tyrnaus is not approved of by my master.
As I have explained, we cannot move ourselves, for the time is not yet
ripe for a European war. This, however, we can undertake. If your
master should refuse to recognize the new sovereign of Theos, and
should think the time ripe for an effort to regain what was once a
part of the Ottoman Empire, there shall be no interference. Russia
will not interfere, and Russia will see that no other Power does. You
follow me?"

"Perfectly," Effenden Pascha answered, quietly; "and afterwards?"

"The afterwards," Domiloff remarked, with a shrug of the shoulders,
"is of your own making."

The Turk shook his head slowly.

"Domiloff," he said, "so far all is well. But your price? Your master
serves no one without a price. Wherein is to come your advantage?"

"We have none to gain," Domiloff answered. "Simply we object to a
Tyrnaus once more upon the throne of Theos."

The Turk moved towards the door.

"There is still time," he said. "I go to pay my respects to King
Ughtred."

"You are too late," Domiloff cried.

"Not so," the Turk answered, pointing through the trees. "The palace
is still a blaze of light."

Domiloff swore softly between his teeth.

"Do not be so hasty, my friend," he exclaimed.

"My country," Effenden Pasha answered, "is too often the tool of
yours. We are to do the work, and at the last moment--the Bear's paw.
We are to conquer Theos for Russia."

"You are entirely wrong," Domiloff declared earnestly. "The eventual
possession of the country may become a matter of private treaty
between your Court and mine, but I will give you the word of the Czar
that if for any reason we should desire to occupy it you shall have a
_quid pro quo_. You shall have a free hand in Asia Minor and a loan."

"You will give me pledges of this nature in writing?" Effenden Pascha
asked.

"Certainly!"

The Turk walked to the window with a smile.

"Allah!" he exclaimed. "It will be good to hear once more the guns
roar in the Balkans. We Turks, Domiloff, are a nation of soldiers, and
these long intervals of peace are ill for us."

Outside there was a sudden tramp of feet. Into the square filed a
company of soldiers. They halted in front of the house. The two men
exchanged rapid glances.

"What is this?" the Turk asked, quickly.

"Heaven knows," Domiloff answered. "Listen!"

A thunderous summons at the door; voices in the hall. An officer in
the uniform of the Thetian Guards entered, bearing a letter.

"To Monsieur Domiloff," he announced, saluting.

Domiloff opened it without a word. As he read he grew pale to the
lips.

     "SIR,--I have the honour to enclose your passport and safe
     conduct to the frontier of Theos. I have informed the Czar,
     your Imperial master, of the circumstances which render your
     further presence in my dominions displeasing to me.

          (Signed)         "UGHTRED OF TYRNAUS,

                              "REX."

Domiloff crushed the letter in his fingers.

"Well, sir?" he said to the officer. "In the morning I will seek an
audience of his Majesty."

"I regret, sir," the officer answered, "that my orders allow me no
latitude whatever. A special train is waiting, and my instructions are
to escort you to the frontier."

Domiloff drew the Turk on one side.

"Listen," he said, "this is a bold stroke. I half expected it. Ughtred
of Tyrnaus has courage at least. I go straight to St. Petersburg. I
will give pledges of what I have promised to your Minister there."

Effenden Pascha bowed. He was most uncomfortable, but there was a
certain pleasure in witnessing the discomfiture of the wily Russian.

"I shall await your news," he answered.

Domiloff and his escort departed. Effenden Pascha at once undressed,
sent for his physician and sought his bed. Before morning Theos knew
of the sudden attack of malignant fever which had most unfortunately
laid hold of him at the moment of starting to attend the reception at
the palace.




CHAPTER XXI


Ughtred slackened his reins about his horse's neck, and turning round,
called to Brand, who was sitting a few yards away making some rapid
sketches. The King's cheeks were flushed with colour, and his eyes
were bright.

"What do you think of that, Brand?" he asked, proudly.

He pointed to where a cloud of dust hung round the last company of
galloping Thetians. The roll of the drums and the shrill music of the
fifes still reached them.

"They are born horsemen, and born soldiers, your Majesty," Brand
answered, with enthusiasm. "I only wish that there were more of them."

Ughtred smiled.

"The mountains are our chief protection," he said, with a little wave
of his arm. "The passes through which men could be poured into Theos
are narrow, and for defensive purposes a small, perfectly-trained army
is sometimes as useful as a large one. I am proud of my army, Brand."

"You have reason," Brand answered. "I am even now trying to make
Europe understand what manner of men these are."

General Dartnoff came galloping up.

"If your Majesty will ride now to Pinter's Pass," he said, "you will
be able to trace the progress of the attack."

The King and Brand rode off together, followed by his small bodyguard.

"Your people have said nothing yet about recalling you?" Ughtred
asked.

"Nothing," Brand answered. "I think that Theos is still being watched
with interest."

"And you yourself?"

Brand looked straight ahead.

"I am content here," he answered. "I shall be sorry to leave."

There was the thunder of hoofs on the turf a short distance away, and
Marie of Reist in a white riding-habit and the military cap of the
Thetian Guards galloped past. Her lithe, superb figure was at its
best--she managed her charger with the easy confidence of a born
horsewoman. Ughtred eyed her thoughtfully.

"There are not many women like that--even in England, Brand," he
remarked.

"Your Majesty is quite right," Brand answered. "The Countess of Reist
is the most beautiful woman whom I have ever seen."

Ughtred smiled and looked down into the valley. They reined in their
horses upon a small knoll.

"I think that I know one who is more beautiful," the King said, in an
undertone. "I heard this morning from our friends, the Van Dechts,
Brand. They are travelling in Italy, and may come on here."

Brand shrugged his shoulders.

"Your Majesty will find their presence welcome?" he asked.

The King looked at him in surprise.

"Surely! They are friends of mine. It would give me great pleasure to
have them here. Why not?"

Brand hesitated.

"I wondered," he said, slowly, "if they might not find their presence
here a little equivocal. Your Majesty is no longer a private
individual, and Mr. and Miss Van Decht, however agreeable in
themselves, are not of the rank which entitles them to a familiar
footing at your Court."

Ughtred looked at his companion in some surprise.

"That speech," he remarked, "might have come from Nicholas of
Reist--from you, my friend, it sounds strangely."

"I admit it," Brand answered. "For myself it is true that I am a
democrat, but then I am only a journalist. I have noticed that the few
nobles who remain in Theos are aristocrats to the backbone. I believe
that you find their principles absolutely rock-bound."

The King frowned. His eyes had rested upon Marie of Reist, sitting
upright in her saddle, and watching eagerly for the development of the
sham fight.

"Well, well," he said, "we shall see! I wish to see the Van Dechts
here, and it is useless to meet trouble halfway. Be so good, Brand, as
to convey my regards to the Countess of Reist, and suggest that she
join us. Our position is better chosen than hers."

Brand cantered over to her side and repeated the message. She rode
with him towards the King.

"You have been much occupied lately, perhaps," she said to Brand. "My
brother tells me that you have been invisible."

"I have been busy," he answered. "Perhaps because of my small share in
events here, I have become wonderfully interested in Theos. I have
been making excursions in all directions. I want to understand many
things which are hard for a stranger to form a right idea of."

She smiled.

"Then why do you not come to me?" she said. "I can tell you very much
about Theos. I can tell you about the country people, and how they
live. Did I not ask you to come, Mr. Brand? You are very ungallant."

He met a glance from her dark eyes, and his pale cheeks were suddenly
flushed.

"You were good enough to say that you would receive me," he answered.
"If I may come, then, I will."

"My brother has shown me in the English papers some of the things
which you have written about Theos," she continued. "I cannot tell you
what pleasure they gave me. It is a wonderful gift, yours, Mr. Brand.
When one reads one seems to see a picture of the whole place. You have
written wonderfully of your adventures here."

"And yet," he said, in a low tone, "the adventure here which was most
interesting to me, which I shall never forget so long as I live, I
have not written about at all. It is for the memory only."

Again their eyes met. He was very bold, this Englishman. Yet though
her eyebrows were slightly raised she did not rebuke him.

"I think, perhaps," she said, "that we had better obey the royal
command."

She touched her horse with the whip, and they galloped up the
hillside. Ughtred watched them closely as they rode up. He made room
for Marie by his side. Brand had perforce to fall behind. They talked
together eagerly of the manoeuvres. The girl was thoroughly well
versed in the situation.

"I believe from the south," she said, "that Theos is unassailable. If
only we had more heavy guns for the passes."

"You have seen the new battery?" Ughtred asked.

She nodded.

"Yes. The Maxims are wonderful."

"I am expecting," he said, "that the donor will be paying us a visit
here soon."

She looked up inquiringly.

"An American was it not?"

"An American and his daughter, Mr. and Miss Van Decht. If they come I
hope that I may count upon you, Countess, to help me make their visit
an enjoyable one."

"I will do all that I can," she answered, coldly. "I have never met
any Americans. They must be wonderful people. In England they are
intermarrying, is it not so, with the aristocracy?"

"There have been many such marriages," Ughtred assented.

"It is the worst of England," she murmured. "A great nation, but
indeed a nation of shopkeepers. Amongst the nobles, the pride of race
seems to have died out. The fear of poverty is to them as the fear of
death. Ah, see."

Through the pass below was a sudden movement. Little puffs of smoke
burst out all over the hillside. General Dartnoff and his staff came
galloping up.

"Your Majesty," he said, saluting, "I shall ask for your
congratulations on behalf of Colonel Bushnieff. The attacking force
have been entrapped into the pass, and are now subject to a terrible
cross-fire. Bushnieff's guns are so placed that every one of them is
effectual. I go to give the award. The defending force have easily
triumphed."

"I will come with you," the King answered.

Brand drew back to let them pass. Marie also lingered. In a moment
they were alone. He turned to her.

"You are coming?" he asked.

"I think not. I am tired. My servants are below. I shall return to
Theos."

Brand hesitated.

"My horse is lame," he remarked.

"I do not wonder at it," she answered. "You have been galloping about
without choosing your way."

"I too am tired," he continued, thoughtfully.

Her lips parted.

"I shall be glad of your escort, Mr. Brand."

They rode slowly across the open country in the waning day. Before
them on the hilltop were the grey towers and the piled-up houses of
Theos, a picturesque medley with their red roofs and white fronts now
fast becoming blurred in the gathering twilight. As they neared the
road a sudden waft of perfume from the lavender-fields beyond filled
the air, and a breath of wind came sweeping through the yellow
corn-fields. Brand, with his hat in his hand, looked thoughtfully
about him.

"I think," he said, "that no man could be born here who would not die
for such a country as this. I believe that I am beginning to
understand what patriotism might be."

Her face lit up in a moment.

"It is beautiful," she said, "to hear you say that. I wish, Mr.
Brand," she added, softly, "that it were your country too. Then we
should be sure of one good patriot."

"I think," he said, "that if trouble came to Theos I should be proud
to reckon myself amongst her sons. I have never seen country people
like yours. I have ridden into the furthest parts, and wherever I have
seen men and women I have heard singing. I have been greeted like a
friend. I have been offered bread and wine before I could even
dismount. How they toil, too. No wonder the soil is fruitful."

"Oh, it is good to hear you talk like this," she cried, with a sudden
little burst of passion. "The love of my country is in my blood--it is
part of me. I could not live if Theos were dishonoured, and lately
there have been so many sorrows. I seem to have found myself
listening, and over the land there has been silence, no longer the
whistling of the men and the singing of women. It has been as though
something terrible has always been about to happen. It is a fancy, of
course. Nicholas laughs at me. It is foolish! But the love of Theos is
more to me than the love of life. I fear for her when for myself I
have no fear. Tell me, Mr. Brand, this seems strange talk to you."

"I know Theos, and I know you," he answered. "I understand."

She did not speak again for some time, but he saw that her eyes were
full of tears, and he kept his face turned from her. When at last they
passed into the city she spoke to him softly.

"I am indeed very foolish," she said, "but just now I am anxious.
Theos seems to have made for herself new enemies. The coming of
Ughtred of Tyrnaus has provoked Russia, and it is the one country
which I fear most. You will come and see me soon, Mr. Brand?"

He bowed over the hand which she held half-shyly out. It was not a
form of greeting in which she often indulged.

"I will surely come," he answered.

He left her at the Reist house and rode slowly towards his own
quarters. Already the streets were lined with people awaiting the
return of the King and the troops. Torches were waved hither and
thither. In the open space in front of the palace a huge bonfire had
been lit. Everywhere was the pleasant murmur of cheerful voices.
Further down the street they were singing in a low rhythmical chant
the National Anthem. Now the King was in sight, and a roar of voices
welcomed him. The front of the palace blazed out in a fire of
illuminations, a shower of rockets shrieked upwards from the park. The
King was coming. Long live the King!




CHAPTER XXII


Sara Van Decht leaned back in her basket-chair and looked across the
cobbled street, across the trim square where the miniature fountain
was playing, to where a cluster of red-roofed, white-fronted houses
were huddled together in picturesque confusion.

"Well, I think it's delightful!" she exclaimed. "I never could have
imagined anything so picturesque--or so restful."

Mr. Van Decht scratched his chin thoughtfully and selected a cigar
from his case.

"It is restful," he admitted. "I can't say that I'm quite accustomed
to taking my meals upon the pavement, even under an awning, and there
is an odour of garlic about the hotel which I don't altogether relish.
I grant you that it is restful, though! There's no denying that!"

The girl laughed softly.

"Poor old dad," she exclaimed. "I guess it's selfish of me to drag you
all across Europe to this little bit of a country, but I couldn't help
it a bit. I positively must see Ughtred with a crown on his head and a
sceptre in his hand before we go back. It's too delicious. Now I
wonder how we ought to let him know that we are here."

"Telephone!"

She laughed again--laughed till the tears stood in her eyes.

"Father, you must try to be more mediaeval," she exclaimed. "Fancy
ringing up a king!"

"Send a boy round with a note then," he suggested, "or shall I stroll
round to the palace and let them know? I'd just as soon. It's only a
few minutes' walk."

"I will write," she decided, "but there is no hurry. We will go out
for a walk presently and look at these dear, quaint little shops.
There are heaps of things I want to buy."

Mr. Van Decht rose suddenly from his chair.

"Jehosophat!" he cried. "What's that?"

It was a horse-car, old-fashioned, rickety, with canvas awnings, drawn
wearily along by an aged horse. Mr. Van Decht eyed it with vast
curiosity.

"Jehosophat," he repeated. "I'd like to take that whole affair right
back with us and sell it to the first dime museum that'd give the
price. Look at the bonnet on the horse's head, Sara, and the bell! My,
how she bumps! I must have a talk with your King, Sara. My
number-three installation is what is wanted here with overhead wires
and forty Cambridge wagons. With cheap labour and water transport I
guess it would be a light contract. I'm going to board the next that
comes along, Sara, and get the thing into my head."

"The streets look very narrow and hilly for cars, father."

"Guess the whole place wants straightening out a bit," Mr. Van Decht
admitted. "If your King wants to make this place go, Sara, he's got
to imbibe a few Western notions, and the sooner the better."

"You shall talk to him," Sara remarked, with a little smile at the
corner of her lips. "I am sure that he will be interested."

"I guess I can give him some ideas," Mr. Van Decht remarked, puffing
vigorously at his cigar. "You'd better write that note, Sara."

"In a moment, father. It's so fascinating to watch these country
people with their baskets. Look! There is something you can't beat in
New York, anyhow."

Up the steep, narrow road came a company of horse-soldiers--a gay
sight--in flashing helmets, plumes, and the soft blue uniform of the
Thetian Guards. A band up at the palace played them in. The people
rushed to the right and to the left, lined the pavements and shouted a
greeting. Then suddenly every head was uncovered, and a little
respectful murmur rippled through the crowd.

"The King! Long live the King!"

Sara rose eagerly from her place at the table. They were virtually
upon the pavement--a little extended near the hotel and dotted about
with tiny round tables. It was Ughtred who rode at the head of the
little troop of soldiers, and suddenly their eyes met. A sharp word of
command broke from his lips. He dismounted and crossed the street
towards them, drawing off his heavy white gloves as he came.

"Welcome!" he cried. "Welcome to Theos."

He took Sara's hands in his and held them tightly.

"This," he said, "is charming of you. One moment!"

He beckoned to the officer who had been riding by his side, and gave a
few brief orders. The troop passed on. Reist and a younger man in dark
riding-clothes remained.

"If you will allow me," Ughtred said, "I will take a cup of coffee
with you. There is a garden here, I believe."

The hotel proprietor came hurrying out. Reist explained what was
required. They made their way into a semi-public garden, which was
instantly cleared of chance loiterers. A table was set in a shady
corner.

"Mr. Van Decht," Ughtred said, "I must shake hands with you. You are
most welcome. I appreciate your coming here immensely."

"My daughter," Mr. Van Decht explained, "has been set upon this trip
ever since your friend Brand began his letters upon Theos in the
_Daily Courier_. They have been very widely read, sir. We must
congratulate you upon having taken hold of your kingdom so firmly."

"You are very good," Ughtred answered. "Brand has been a God-send to
us. The position here has been fairly represented to England, and, in
fact, Europe, through his reports. He, too, will be delighted to see
you again. Miss Van Decht, you must allow me to present Captain
Hartzan of the Artillery--the Duke of Reist you already know. Now,
when did you arrive?"

"Last night," Sara answered. "That dear little train of yours brought
us from the frontier. We scarcely expected to see you so soon."

"It is my great good-fortune," Ughtred answered. "I go every morning
to the fortifications to direct the artillery practice. The Van Decht
battery has been in action this morning," he added, smiling.

"I presume, sir, that this is a warlike country!" Mr. Van Decht
remarked.

A shadow crept over the King's face.

"It is not our choice," he answered. "We are surrounded by dangerous
enemies, and we are a very small nation. Our security depends solely
upon our readiness to resist attack. For these last two months I have
had to forget that I am a King, and remember only that I am
Commander-in-Chief of our little army."

"I presume that you are not anticipating any immediate trouble, sir?"
Mr. Van Decht asked.

The King glanced round. Already he was learning the lesson of caution.

"The history of Theos," he said, "is doubtless unknown to you.
Turkey is our old and historic enemy, and her attitude towards us
just now is, to say the least of it, threatening. We trust to our
inoffensiveness and the good-will of the Powers to preserve our
independence, but we judge it best to be prepared so far as possible
to fight our own battles. Well, Crasten, what are you bringing us?"

The hotel proprietor bowed low, and filled some finely-cut glasses
with liqueur from a dusty and carefully cradled bottle.

"The fin champagne, your Majesty, was brought from the cellars of
Louis Philippe by my father. I trust your Majesty will approve."

Ughtred sipped it, and did approve. He accepted some coffee also, and
broke a roll in his fingers.

"This is my longest fast," he explained, laughing. "We ride out at six
to escape the heat. Part of my afternoon I spend at the barracks and
part at the House of Laws."

"It appears to me, sir, that you find pretty considerable to do," Mr.
Van Decht remarked. "I'd an idea that royalty had an easier time of
it."

"A good many people share that idea, Mr. Van Decht," Ughtred answered,
good-humouredly. "For myself, I never worked half so hard in all my
life. But then, it is work I love, and for my country, which is very
dear to me. Some day I hope, when things are more settled, to be able
to drop the military part of my labours, and give all my attention to
the development of my country."

Mr. Van Decht nodded. He was greatly enjoying the fin champagne.

"You're right there, sir," he declared. "Make a nation strong
commercially, and she'll hold her own in time against the world. I
guess you're a travelled man, sir, and you won't mind a stranger
remarking that in some ways you're a little behind the times here."

Sara's eyes twinkled with amusement. The young officer, who understood
a little English, glanced at Reist, and was speechless.

"You mustn't mind father," Sara exclaimed. "You know he's a terrible
democrat, and utilitarian to the backbone. He's dying to introduce
electric cars here and electric light."

"Why, you want them bad enough," her father admitted. "I don't suppose
we've a town of half the size in the States where we haven't both, and
this a capital city too."

"Mr. Van Decht is quite right," Ughtred said, gravely, "only one has
always to remember that this is a very poor country, and we can't
afford to pay for luxuries."

"I guess those cars would pay for themselves before long, sir," Mr.
Van Decht declared.

"It is very likely," Ughtred answered. "I'm sure that if any
capitalist were disposed to undertake the commercial part of it, there
would be very little difficulty about the concession."

Mr. Van Decht rose up briskly.

"If you'll excuse me, sir," he said, "I guess I'll hail that bobby
hutch and go the round."

The King laughed.

"You are a man of business, Mr. Van Decht," he said. "Certainly, go
and help yourself to all the information you can. Sara, if you will
come up with me I will show you the palace. I am afraid there is
nothing there to interest your father, but he will have many
opportunities of seeing it. Reist, will you see if the carriage has
come?"

For a moment they were alone.

They looked into one another's eyes, and Sara laughed softly.

"Why, this is just the queerest thing in the world," she murmured.
"What will happen to me at the palace if I forget to say 'your
Majesty,' and ought I to curtsey when I speak to you?"

Ughtred smiled back at her.

"I believe," he said, "that you ought to kiss--my hand."

"Then I guess I won't," she answered. "I believe I'm democrat enough
to expect----"

"What?"

He leaned over towards her, but the sentence was never finished. Reist
stood before them, and the look on his face was a forecast of coming
trouble.

"The carriage is here, your Majesty!" he announced.

[Illustration: "'I BELIEVE,' HE SAID, 'THAT YOU OUGHT TO KISS--MY
HAND.'"]




CHAPTER XXIII


"What do I think of Theos?" Sara repeated. "I think it must be the
lost paradise of the lotus-eaters. It does not seem possible for
anything ever to happen here."

Ughtred laughed.

"We share the primitive passions with the rest of mankind," he assured
her. "We know what it is to be excited, even to be rowdy. The wear and
tear of life perhaps touches us more lightly than in your Western
cities. You see we are a rural people."

"Miss Van Decht," Reist remarked dryly, "misses perhaps the clang of
the electric cars and the factory sirens."

"It is the proverbial peace of the city amongst the mountains,"
Ughtred said. "Yet if you listen you can hear the murmur of voices in
the _cafes_, and there is a band playing in the square."

"It is all--delightful," Sara declared. "Only I wonder that you find
it possible to take life seriously here."

They were sitting out on the great stone balcony behind the
palace--Ughtred, Reist, and Marie, Mr. Van Decht and Sara. A servant
in spotless white livery had silently arranged coffee and liqueur in
strange-looking bottles upon a table already laden with fruit. Below
them were the terraced lawns leading to the river, dotted with dark
fir-trees and flowering shrubs--beyond the red roofs and white fronts
of many villas, in the distance the blue mountains. The King and Sara
Van Decht were sitting side by side. Marie, unusually taciturn, leaned
back in her chair, listening and watching with half-closed eyes.

Ughtred lit a fresh cigarette, and smoked for a moment thoughtfully.

"I can assure you," he said, "that life is, in its way, as complex a
thing here as in the greater cities. The people are very poor, and how
to raise money enough to develop the country and pay our way without
undue taxation is a very serious problem indeed. Then you must not
forget that we live always in the shadow of a great danger."

Sara looked at him inquiringly. He pointed southwards to the
mountains.

"Beyond there," he said, "is Turkey, and Turkey is our eternal enemy.
Even now there are strained relations between us. Night and day our
watchmen guard the passes. There have been rumours lately of an
impending raid upon our frontier villages."

Sara listened with rapt attention.

"How fascinating. It really sounds quite mediaeval."

"We are mediaeval in more ways than one," he continued. "Our standing
army consists of barely one thousand men, but in case of war the whole
of our male population would take up arms. Every man must fight
himself for his home and his native land. If you can spare the time
here we will go to some of the more distant villages, and you will
see the Saturday drill. I am rather proud of my military system."

She looked across at her father.

"He is so restless," she said. "I can never tell how long he will
stand any one place. Just at present he talks as though he were
disposed to settle down here for the rest of his life."

Marie leaned forward. Her face gleamed pale in the twilight, her tone
was almost openly contemptuous.

"Away from the electric cars, and sirens, and all the delights of your
Western cities?"

Sara nodded gravely.

"Yes! Away even from the Paris edition of the _New York Herald_. But
then, my father, you know, is terribly mercenary. I believe he thinks
that there is scope for the capitalist here."

"Your father is quite right then," Ughtred answered, smiling. "Try and
persuade him to give the place a trial. It is supposed, you know, to
be the healthiest spot in Europe."

"Why, I'm in no hurry to leave, and that's a fact," Mr. Van Decht
admitted. "I've an appointment with the manager of your cars here
to-morrow, and if we do business I guess I'll have to stop."

Sara laughed softly.

"That's just like father!" she exclaimed. "Wherever he goes and finds
horse-cars he wants to either buy the company out or put in his own
system of electric cars. I'm afraid you think we're very commercial,
don't you, Countess?"

"Oh, no," Marie answered, coldly. "One rather expects that, you know,
from your nation. It is very interesting. I must confess, though, that
I do not wish to see electric cars in the streets of Theos."

"And why not, young lady?" Mr. Van Decht inquired.

"Because I love my old city too well to wish to see her modernized and
made hideous," Marie answered. "It is scarcely a feeling with which
one could expect strangers to sympathize; but there are many others
besides myself who would feel the same way."

Mr. Van Decht nodded.

"Is that so? Well, nowadays the countries who place the picturesque
before the useful are very few and far between. I guess it's as well
for the community at large that it is so. You would scarcely call that
broken-down old omnibus, dragged along by a lame mule, a credit to
Theos or a particularly picturesque survival."

Marie shrugged her shoulders, and dismissed the subject with a little
gesture of contempt. Mr. Van Decht waited for a minute, and then, as
she remained silent, continued--

"A country which neglects the laws of progress is not a country which
can ever hope for prosperity. Don't you agree with me, sir?" he asked
the King.

Ughtred nodded.

"I am afraid that I do," he admitted. "Theos, with its vineyards and
hand-ploughs, its simple hill-folk and its quaint village towns, is,
from an artistic point of view, delightful. Yet I am bound to admit
that for the sake of its children and the unborn generations, I would
rather see factory chimneys in its valleys and mine shafts in the
hills. The people are poor, and so long as we have to import
everything we use and wear, we must get poorer and poorer. The country
is productive enough. We have minerals and a wonderful soil. What we
need is capital and enterprise."

Marie shuddered.

"And you are a Tyrnaus!" she murmured, with a sidelong glance of
reproach.

"It is my fortune," he said, "good or bad, to know more of the world
outside than those who came before me. Please God, I am going to leave
Theos a richer and happier country when my days here are spent. If we
are spared from war I shall do it."

"In future," Marie said, "I shall dread war less. I begin to see that
there are other evil things."

She rose and bowed slightly to the King.

"Your Majesty will excuse me," she said. "I find the air a little
cold."

She passed down the terrace steps, her maid a few yards behind. A
certain reserve fell upon the others.

"I am afraid," Sara said to Nicholas of Reist, "that your sister does
not approve of me."

He hesitated.

"Marie," he said, "is passionately faithful to all the traditions of
our family and our race. This is a conservative country, and no one
more so than she. I myself am in close sympathy with her. Yet my
reason tells me that we are both wrong. Our peasantry are finding
already the struggle for existence a severe one--a single failure in
the crops would mean a famine. It has occurred to me, Mr. Van Decht,
that the advice of a man of affairs such as yourself may be very
useful to us."

Ughtred rose up.

"You shall talk progress together," he said, "while I show Miss Van
Decht my pictures."

       *       *       *       *       *

Marie held the note in her fingers, looking at it doubtfully. It was
addressed to her, thrust secretly into her maid's hand by a stranger
in the crush outside the palace gates. At least that was the girl's
story. She tore it open.

     "You are a patriot, the sister of Nicholas of Reist, and the
     King's friend. By you he may be warned. The American woman
     who with her father has come to Theos, was betrothed to him
     in London. She has come to claim her position. The people of
     Theos will never accept as their queen a woman of humble
     birth, the child of tradespeople. Let the King be warned."

She tore the note into a thousand pieces, and walked restlessly up and
down the great room. Her eyes were lit with fire, and a scarlet spot
burned in her cheeks.

"Oh, if he should dare," she murmured. "If he should dare!"

She stopped abruptly before the picture of Rudolph. The flickering
light of fifty wax candles from the huge silver candelabra on the
oaken table lit up the dull canvas. It was Ughtred himself who looked
down at her.

"Queen of Theos!" she murmured. "Why not? We have drunk together from
the King's cup."

"Countess!"

She turned quickly round. Brand had come silently into the room.




CHAPTER XXIV


"You!"

Her surprised interjection recalled to him for the first time the hour
and the strangeness of his visit. Yet he attempted little in the way
of excuse.

"I may stay five minutes," he begged. "You are alone?"

"It is very late," she murmured.

He pointed out of the great window at the far end of the room.

"Your brother is attending the King. If he should return--well, mine
is no idle errand. I can justify my coming, even at this hour."

Then she noticed that he was not dressed for the evening, that he was
pale, and that there was trouble in his eyes. She led him into a
smaller room, pushed open a window, and beckoned him to follow her
down the worn grey steps into the gardens.

"This is my favourite corner," she said. "Beyond are the flower
gardens, and the air here at night is always sweet. You shall sit with
me, my friend, and you shall tell me what it is that brings you with
this look of trouble in your face."

His eyes remained fixed upon her with a sudden passionate wistfulness.
She was very sweet and gracious, and her slow speech seemed to him
more musical than ever. So he sat by her side, and a little sea of
white satin and lace and soft draperies covered up all the space
between them, for it had been a State dinner at the palace, and he
found speech very difficult.

"Now this is restful and very pleasant," she said, after a long pause.
"But you must tell me why you have come. It was not by chance--to see
me? But no? You spoke also of my brother."

Her eyes sought his--a spice of coquetry in their questioning gleam.
But the cloud lingered upon his face.

"I would not have dared to come at such an hour," he said, "if my
visit were an ordinary one."

"How very unenterprising," she murmured. "I am sure that this is much
the pleasantest time of the day."

"Countess," he said, slowly, "is Baron Domiloff a friend of yours?"

"Of mine? But no. Why do you ask such a question?"

"He has been banished from Theos. Did you know that he was hiding
still in the city?"

She shook her head slowly.

"I know nothing," she answered. "How strange that you should ask me."

"Is it not true, then," he continued, "that you and he and your
brother are plotting against the King?"

She regarded him with uplifted eyebrows. Then she patted him gently on
the arm with her fan.

"It is the moon, my friend," she declared. "A little brief frenzy, is
it not?"

His tone recovered confidence. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"The man lied to me," he declared. "Now I will tell you just what has
happened to me. You know that I have a room in the Theba Place. Well,
to-night, as I was about to prepare for dinner, a messenger, a native
Thetian he seemed to me, brought a note to my rooms. It was neither
signed nor addressed. But it bade me follow the bearer without
question if I would be of service to Theos."

"You went?" she asked.

"Of course," he answered, quickly. "If the summons was genuine, well
and good--if it was false, I still wanted to know the meaning of it."

"And which was it?" she asked.

"Genuine enough," he answered, gravely. "I was led into a quarter of
Theos where I have never been before, and which I am sure I could not
find again. We arrived at a little _cafe_--I do not know the name--it
was somewhere outside the walls. A man was waiting for me in a back
room. He was disguised, but I recognized him at once. It was
Domiloff!"

She started. Instinctively he felt that she was deeply interested.

"At first I thought that it was a trap--that Domiloff was preparing
some revenge for my personation of the King. Soon, however, I learnt
that his intention was a different one. He is concerned in a plot to
dethrone the King, and he proposed that I should throw in my lot with
his party."

"Did he tell you, then, that Nicholas and I were concerned in it?"

"No. From his point of view your cooperation as yet was unnecessary.
Yet the whole thing is concerned with you and your brother, for
Domiloff has named him as the future ruler of Theos. He offered to
give me positive evidence that Russia has decided to remove Ughtred
from the throne, that Theos itself is in deadly peril."

"There is one thing," she said, "which I do not quite understand. Why
did Domiloff send for you? You are not a soldier, nor are you
well-known to the Thetians."

"It is very simple," he answered. "To-day the Press has an immense
influence upon public opinion in England and all the Western
countries. I am writing for my paper in England a series of articles
upon Theos, and I am writing from a point of view friendly to Ughtred
of Tyrnaus. Domiloff wants these articles stopped. He professes to
need my active help. What he really desires is that I write no more,
or alter the tone of my letters."

Her satin slipper traced a mystic pattern upon the smooth green turf.

"These are two things," she said, "which I do not understand. The
Baron Domiloff has repute as a cunning and very shrewd diplomatist.
Did he ask you for no pledge that you would not speak of these things
to the King?"

Brand shook his head.

"It would have been useless," he answered. "I think that he knew quite
well that I should give no such pledge. That is what makes me believe
that the matter is serious. He is so sure of coming events that
failing my joining with him he expressed himself as indifferent as to
what my course of action might be. There was only one condition he
made before I left--and that one I agreed to."

She looked at him inquiringly.

"It was that I should come to you--before I went to the King."

Their eyes met. In that single luminous moment he learned that these
things came at least as no surprise to her. He seemed even to divine
something of that desire which had eaten its way into her heart.

"To me!" she murmured. "Well?"

"Countess," he said, gravely, "for myself there is but one course of
action possible. I came here as the friend of Ughtred of Tyrnaus. I am
bound to his cause by every tie of honour, as well as my own
sympathies. Before the morning I shall have told him all that I have
told you."

Her fan fluttered idly in her fingers. She remained silent, but he had
a fancy that a shadow had fallen between them.

"Domiloff sent me to you," he continued. "What does that mean?"

She shook her head.

"The ways of Baron Domiloff," she said, "are not easy to understand."

"Are you and your brother concerned in this--plot?" he asked, gravely.

"My brother," she said, "would, I believe, shoot you if you asked him
such a question. It is only a few months ago that he himself brought
Ughtred of Tyrnaus here. Nicholas has too little ambition. He is a
patriot, pure and simple."

"And you--yourself?" he asked.

"I have had no dealings with Baron Domiloff," she answered, "but I
think that he knows my views. I do not love the family of Tyrnaus, and
I do not think that Ughtred had any claim to the throne of Theos. His
father and grandfather misgoverned the country, and estranged all the
nobility, who were the backbone of the State. We alone are left, and
if Ughtred should marry the daughter of this American tradesman we,
too, must become exiles."

"But you would not stoop," he murmured, "to plot against the King?"

"It is not necessary," she answered. "I believe that what you have
been told is true. I believe that Russia will not tolerate Ughtred of
Tyrnaus. My friend," she added, in a softer tone, "why do you concern
yourself in these things? Leave Domiloff alone, and, believe me, your
warning to the King would be wasted. Stay here, and watch for the
things which may happen. Do you remember what we talked about that
night at the palace? The times are coming--wait, and your opportunity
may also show itself. Who knows that your own future may not become
linked with the future of Theos?"

She leaned over towards him, her hand fell upon his shoulder, and its
touch, though light, was like a caress. Then Brand understood that
this was temptation, for his whole being quivered with the delight of
her softened tone, and the unspoken things which trembled there and
shone from her eyes. In truth, she, too, was thinking of the moment
when she had believed him to be the King.

"Dear lady," he said, almost pleadingly, "I would be content to live
all my days in Theos if----"

He hesitated. A wonderful smile curved her lips, and her eyes were
full of invitation. Yet he hesitated.

"For a brave man," she murmured, "you are very--very faint-hearted."

Whereupon he took her into his arms, and kissed her.




CHAPTER XXV


It chanced that a brilliant autumn brought a season of great
prosperity to the Thetian wine-growers and farmers, and the year of
Ughtred's accession to the throne seemed likely to be marked with a
white stone in their annals. Never had a ruler been more popular with
all classes. His military system, while it made no undue demands upon
the people, provoked the admiration of Europe, and several important
and successful industrial undertakings were due entirely to his
instigation. Mr. Van Decht, fascinated by the climate, the primitive
but delightful life, and a firm believer in the possibilities of the
country, still lingered in the capital, and already the results of his
large investments were beginning to be felt. Only a few people knew of
the hidden danger which was ever brooding over the land--a danger
which Ughtred had realized from the first, and which from the first he
had set himself steadfastly to avert. A soldier himself, he knew
something of the horrors of war. Nothing seemed to him more awful than
the vision of this beautiful country blackened and devastated, her
corn-fields soaked with blood, her pleasant pastoral life swept away
in the grim struggle against an only partially-civilized enemy. He set
himself passionately to work to strive for peace.

Reist came to him one evening straight from the House of Laws with a
suggestion.

"Your Majesty," he said, "the people are asking for a queen."

Ughtred laughed.

"I'm sorry I can't oblige them off-hand," he answered.

"Has your Majesty never thought of an alliance through marriage with
one of the Powers? Not a direct alliance, perhaps, but one which might
be useful to us if the worst should come."

Ughtred shook his head.

"A dream, my friend," he answered. "There is only one country in the
world who could help us, and I fear an English princess would be
beyond our wildest dreams. Friendship with Russia is more to be
dreaded than her open enmity. France has no royal family, and is bound
up with Russia. Germany and Austria are tied."

"Your marriage has been spoken of, sire," Reist said slowly. "I have
promised to convey to the House your views. A queen would be very
popular."

"I am not prepared at present to make any announcement upon the
subject," Ughtred answered.

"I should not hesitate at any sacrifice which the safety or benefit of
Theos seemed to require. At present there is no question of anything
of the sort."

Reist bowed, and abandoned the subject. But late that night he sought
his sister. She was sitting on the stone balcony which led from her
own suite of rooms, her elbow upon the worn balustrade, her clear,
beautiful face clouded with thought. For the first time Nicholas
noticed a change in her. She was thinner, and there were dark lines
under her eyes. A vague trouble was in her eyes.

"Marie," he said, "you have not been to the palace lately."

"No."

"Tell me why."

She turned slowly towards him.

"Need you ask! I hate that American girl. She is always there. She
monopolizes everything. I wish to Heaven that she would go away."

Reist came a little closer. His voice dropped.

"Has he spoken?"

"You know that he has not."

The face of the man was stern and grey--even as the face of one musing
upon evil things.

"To-night," he said, "I gave him every opportunity. By all ancient
laws and customs he is your betrothed--and he knows it. Yet he
persists in this uncompromising silence. The difficulty remains only
with himself."

She drew nearer to him.

"It is an insult to our house," she murmured. "I am glad that you have
spoken to me of this, Nicholas. It is unbearable!"

"You are right," he admitted. "You have been patient, Marie, and so
have I. The time has come to end it."

She laid her slender fingers upon his arm. Slenderer than ever they
seemed to him now, and unbejewelled save for one great emerald set in
dull gold which burned upon her fourth finger.

"What can you do, Nicholas? You know the meaning of it all. It is the
coming of Sara Van Decht."

He nodded thoughtfully.

"I myself," he said, "have watched--and seen. But, Marie, the daughter
of a tradesman, though he were rich enough to buy a kingdom, can never
sit upon the throne of Theos."

"He is masterful," she said, "and I think that he cares for her. He
will have his own way."

Reist was wearing his uniform, for there had been a reception at the
Austrian Minister's. As though by accident he touched the hilt of his
sword.

"Our honour is engaged, Marie," he said. "You may safely leave all in
my hands."

"He is your King!" she reminded him, with a sidelong glance, as though
anxious to watch the effect of her words.

"And I," he answered, hotly, "am Nicholas, Duke of Reist. Since when,
Marie, have the men of Tyrnaus reached a pinnacle when the Reists
could not address them as equals? Our quarterings are more numerous,
our House is more ancient than theirs. Ughtred of Tyrnaus must answer
to me as would any other gentleman of his rank if the time should come
when our honour demands it."

"Those are brave words, my brother!" she said.

"You do not doubt me, Marie?"

She shook her head.

"I do not doubt you, Nicholas, only----"

"Well?"

"There was a time when the throne was yours, when the people would
have shouted you King. You let it go by. You pointed there! Tell me,
Nicholas, is it forever this waiting?"

Her forefinger was raised to that carved motto. Nicholas remained for
a moment lost in thought.

"Marie," he said, presently. "I will tell you the truth. I did not
give Ughtred of Tyrnaus credit for such gifts as he has shown. I
wanted the principle of monarchy reestablished, and it was best to
revert to the royal house. Then I found that he was a better man than
I had thought, and an alliance with you would have reconciled me to
his reign. Now--I must admit--I am doubtful."

She remained for a moment lost in thought. Had the time come when she
might speak? He detested Domiloff and all his ways--at heart, too, the
good of Theos was far dearer to him than any personal ambition.

"Nicholas, you say that you are doubtful. I have a feeling that before
long the King will announce his intention of marrying Sara Van Decht.
Will you remain even then his faithful servant?"

The scorn in her tone first stung, then moved him to wonder.

"You do not love the King, Marie!" he exclaimed.

"Love him! Nicholas, it is better that there should be now a clear
understanding of things between us. I am a Countess of Reist, and I
have been slighted by an adventurer--a man who but for you would even
now have been living in poverty in a foreign land. I would not marry
him though he begged me with tears in his eyes, to save his throne, to
save his life."

He walked restlessly up and down. His own pride had been wounded
bitterly. Marie was right.

"I am willing," she continued, "to endure this affront if it seems to
you that your duty to Theos still bids you hold by the King! But there
is one thing to which I will not submit. I will not bow the knee to
this American girl if he should make her Queen. Nor in that case will
I suffer you, Nicholas, to remain the King's counsellor."

"Nor will I!" he answered.

"Promise me one thing more, my brother!" she begged. "If again we
should hear that cry ringing through the squares, promise me that you
will not fail them. We have had enough of strangers in Theos. It is
those who have lived here all their lives, to whom every stone of the
place is dear, who should control her destinies."

"I am the faithful servant of Ughtred of Tyrnaus," he answered,
slowly, "while he serves the State wisely and well. But if that should
come to pass which we have spoken of, the evil must fall upon his own
head. Listen!"

There was some commotion without. A servant threw open the door.

"His Majesty the King!"




CHAPTER XXVI


The King followed hard upon the footsteps of his seneschal, and
neither Reist nor Marie was wholly at ease in the first moments of
greeting. It was the latter to whom the King addressed himself.

"My visit, Countess," he said, "is to you. I am fortunate in finding
you at home."

"Your Majesty is very kind!" Marie answered.

"I have come," he continued, "to demand an explanation from you--or
rather to beg for it. You have been absent from all our gatherings at
the palace lately. I came to assure myself that we had not unwittingly
offended you, or to ask you how we can render them sufficiently
attractive to insure your presence."

Marie was taken unawares both by the King's visit and by the
directness of his questioning. It was Nicholas who answered for her.

"Your Majesty," he said, "my sister does not enjoy the best of health.
I was even now endeavouring to persuade her to spend a few weeks at
the castle. The mountain air is always good for her."

"Your sister's appearance, then," the King replied, "much belies her
condition. I have never seen her looking better."

"Nevertheless, my brother is right, your Majesty," Marie said. "I have
decided to leave Theos for a while."

The King bowed.

"It is not amongst my prerogatives to question the movements of my
subjects," he said, gravely, "but you must forgive me if I remember
that you and your brother are my earliest and best friends here. I
shall venture to ask you therefore if ill-health is your only reason
for desiring to absent yourself from the Court?"

Nicholas intervened. He rose and held back the curtains which led into
another suite of rooms. Marie understood, and with a quick courtesy
rose from her seat.

"Your Majesty," Nicholas said, "with your permission I will return
your candour. The subject is one which we can best discuss in my
sister's absence."

Marie passed out. Nicholas let fall the curtains.

"Your Majesty," he said, "only a short while ago, as your counsellor,
and as one who has the interests of Theos greatly at heart, I ventured
to allude to a somewhat delicate subject--to your marriage."

The King nodded.

"Well?"

"I must take the liberty of reminding your Majesty of your first visit
here on your arrival at Theos. We drank wine together in this room,
the Royal betrothal cup was filled for you, and notwithstanding my
remonstrances, at your particular desire my sister drank with you from
that cup. Its history and associations were known to you."

The King rose up.

"But----"

"Your Majesty will permit me," Reist interrupted. "It was doubtless
an act of thoughtless good-nature on your part, but we Thetians hold
fast by our old traditions, and regard them as sacred things. The news
of this leaked out, and the marriage of your Majesty and the Countess
of Reist has been freely talked of throughout the State. Your Majesty
will perceive, therefore, that my sister's position at Court naturally
became a trying one, especially as her rank entitles her always to the
place by your side."

Ughtred was silent for several moments. A frown of perplexity spread
itself over his face.

"Reist," he said slowly, "your sister is very charming, and I have a
great admiration for her. Yet I must admit this. The idea which you
have suggested is an altogether new one to me. I did not, for one
moment, imagine that she or you or any one would attach any
significance to what I looked upon at the time as a harmless little
ceremony."

Reist bowed low.

"To the people of Theos," he said, "these ancient customs are sacred.
Your Majesty will permit me to proceed. There is a further development
which has also a bearing upon the situation. I refer to the advent of
Mr. and Miss Van Decht."

The King raised his eyebrows.

"And how does this matter concern," he asked, "my very good friends,
the Van Dechts?"

"Your Majesty," Nicholas answered, "has admitted them, considering
their position, or I should say their lack of position, to a somewhat
surprising familiarity. This too has given rise to much comment in the
city. Miss Van Decht is a very beautiful young woman, and your
Majesty has treated her publicly with great consideration, almost as
an equal. Your Majesty must bear with our prejudices. This is not a
democratic country. We hold by our rank and its obligations, and we do
not consider an American retired tradesman and his daughter people
whom we can meet habitually on terms of equality--even at the Court of
the King."

Ughtred rose from his chair, and his mouth was set and grim.

"I am obliged to you for your frankness, Nicholas," he said. "I will
endeavour to return it. Mr. Van Decht and his daughter are my very
good friends, and their position at my Court is that of valued and
welcome associates. It seems to me that whom the King can treat as
equals his nobles may endure as companions. But in any case I desire
to say this to you and to the aristocracy of Theos, whose opinions
you doubtless express. In the matter of my friends, as in the matter
of taking a wife when the time may come, I do not permit any
interference, and if any be offered I shall resent it. Further, if
any stay away from my Court for such reasons as you have hinted at I
shall esteem their absence a personal affront. Am I understood?"

Reist bowed in cold silence. The King took a quick step towards him
and laid his hand upon his arm.

"Nicholas," he said, "don't let me lose a good friend--you to whom I
owe my kingdom. Remember that I am a man as well as a King. I did not
promise to become a machine when I took the coronation oaths. I have
my likes and my dislikes--as you have. Bear with me a little."

Reist hesitated. There entered a messenger for the King.

"Your Majesty," he announced, "the Englishman Brand, is at the palace.
He desires an immediate audience."

Ughtred took up his cloak.

"I fear that it is ill news," he said. "Follow me, Reist."




CHAPTER XXVII


"Your Majesty----"

The King waved his hand.

"You can leave that out, Brand. Speak to me plainly. You look as
though you had something important to say."

"I have indeed!" Brand answered.

He glanced around cautiously. They were in the chamber used for
meetings of the Privy Council--a great room with stained glass
windows, fluted pillars supporting a vaulted roof, stone walls, with
here and there a covering of tapestry. A collection of ancient arms
was hung over the great chimneypiece. In the centre of the floor stood
a round table of solid oak. A bad room for confidences this, in which
the slightest whisper awoke curious echoes. The King noticed Brand's
hesitation, and divined its cause.

"Come this way, Brand," he directed. "Reist is close behind. He will
keep out all intruders."

They passed into the King's private study, a small octagonal room on
the ground floor of one of the towers. The King threw himself into an
easy-chair, and pointed towards another, but Brand remained standing.

"Well?"

"Your Majesty, the kingdom of Theos is in danger!"

"I know it," the King answered, calmly. "There are traitors in the
city itself. I have felt sure of it for some time."

"The danger is urgent!"

"Go on."

"I have acquired a good deal of information during the last few days,"
Brand said. "Some of it has come through a source which I may not
reveal--piecemeal, and in disconnected fragments. You will have to
take a good deal on trust."

"I believe in you, Brand."

"First of all, then," Brand said, "you are aware of what has been
going on in the Press all over Europe, in Russia, Germany, and
France?"

The King nodded.

"A widespread conspiracy," he said, "to vilify me and my methods and
my government. I have been represented to Europe as a harebrained,
scheming, military adventurer, idle, worthless, a drunkard, and heaps
of other things. I know it, Brand. I know another thing, too. I know
that one paper in England, through thick and thin, has been my friend.
I do not deserve all the good which it has spoken of me. On the other
hand, I shall always regard as one of my best friends the man who had
the pluck to try and stem the tide."

The slender fingers of the journalist found themselves suddenly within
the brown, sinewy hand of the King. There was an instant's silence--a
man's silence. Then Brand continued--

"Mr. Ellis, our Minister there, is your friend, but he is a weak,
colourless creature, and he gives no weight or point to his reports.
He tries hard to be honest, but he is wofully under the influence of
the others. And the others----"

"I know," the King interrupted. "Austria, Germany, and Russia have
come to a secret understanding, and somehow I fancy that Turkey is
involved in it. But what pretext they can find for movement against
me, or from what quarter I am to expect the aggression I cannot say."

"It is what I have just discovered," Brand said.

The King's eyes flashed. He was a brave man, but the cloud of doubt
had been stupefying. It was this knowledge for which he craved.

"It is Russia who is the moving spirit," Brand continued.

"Russia, of course," the King exclaimed, bitterly. "An independent
Theos has always been against her policy. She debauched the Republic,
she tried--as you well know, Brand--to make my accession a virtual
Russian protectorate."

"And, further," Brand said, "she has actually in London stooped to
this. Our paper has been approached by an agent of the Russian
government with a view to purchasing a cessation of our support of
you. I myself, your Majesty, feel myself deeply to blame. Weeks ago I
could have warned you that Domiloff was still in the capital plotting
against you. I kept silent. I beg that you will not ask me why. The
news which has brought me here now has come by cipher telegram from my
chief. A secret treaty has been signed between Russia and Turkey. The
terms I do not know, but Turkey is left free to attack you at once,
and she is already moving troops and guns to the frontier."

"Germany?" Ughtred asked, quickly.

"Is pledged to neutrality--also Austria. The only European country
which has not come to terms with Russia is England."

The King rose from his chair, and walked restlessly up and down the
room. His eyes were flashing, and the lines about his mouth were hard
and bitter.

"It's a brave game--politics," he cried. "To-day we read our ancient
history, and thank the gods for civilization. It's a huge fraud,
Brand. What they did in those days with fire and the sword they do
to-day by craft and secret treaties, by falsehood and deceit. It's a
world of rapine still. It is only the methods which have changed--and
changed for the worse."

Brand nodded slowly.

"Listen," he said. "My chief has had an interview with one of our
Cabinet Ministers. He has listened to all he had to say, and I believe
that the state of affairs here will be fairly represented to the
English Government. But, to be frank, I am afraid there will be no
intervention from England. She may sympathize, but she will not deem
her interests sufficiently involved to interfere."

"Have you any idea," Ughtred asked, "when there will be any movement
on the part of Turkey, and what the _casus belli_ will be?"

"The blow may be struck at any moment," Brand answered. "I am afraid
my warning comes too late to afford you time for preparations."

The King smiled.

"I am not a child, my dear Brand," he said. "Sooner or later I felt
that the thing must come, and instinct seemed to tell me from what
quarter. I will let you into a secret, my friend. If the Turks raid my
three frontier villages they may possibly find themselves a little
surprised."

A smile illumined Brand's serious face.

"You'll make a fight for it, then?" he asked, eagerly.

Ughtred rose up. His eyes were lit with inward fire, and in his tone
there trembled a note of splendid passion.

"A fight for it! Ay, we shall fight in such a way, my friend, that all
Europe shall hide her face, and feel the shame of the carnage and
misery for which her miserable selfishness is responsible. There is
one thing about my people, Brand, which is divine, and, thank God, it
is in my own blood, too, notwithstanding my years of exile. We love
our country, our hills and mountains, our corn-fields and vineyards,
our villages and our queer old towns. It's a wonderful love, Brand,
and I don't believe you highly-civilized people in your rich,
smoke-stained Western countries know what it means. I tell you it's a
passion here. We Thetians love our country as we love our womenkind.
The footstep of the invader is seduction--when it comes there will be
lit such a fire of passionate hate from the Balkans to the northern
frontier that only death or victory will quench. You will see them
come to arms, Brand, these children of mine, whom God protect, young
and old, boys and their grandfathers! A fight for it, did you say? I
promise you, man, that if this blow falls, and we are conquered, you
shall come here afterwards, and you shall find an empty country, a
blackened chaos of ruins."

An answering flash of enthusiasm lit up Brand's face for a moment. But
the man was practical to the core.

"What number of trained men can you rely upon?" he asked.

"Fifteen thousand," the King answered. "I know every village company.
Every regiment I have drilled myself. They have old Martinis, but they
are born shots, and born horsemen. Lately, too, we have gone through a
course of carbine instruction. I could put five thousand mounted
infantry into the field who could surprise you."

"And artillery?"

The King groaned.

"We have done what we could," he answered, "but as for heavy guns, we
have none. Listen, I will give you a sketch of my idea for defending
the Balkans."

The King talked quickly and clearly. There was no more trace of the
enthusiast, nor, indeed, did he betray again during all the anxious
days to come that more passionate side of the man which Brand's few
words seemed to have quickened into life. He talked now as the cool
and skilful strategist. Brand, who was something of an amateur soldier
himself, listened with keen interest.

"And you?" the King asked at last.

Brand smiled.

"I am here to see that the things which are coming are fairly reported
from one quarter, at least," he answered. "I am going to stay, and if
the trouble comes I am correspondent for the _New York Herald_, as
well as the _Daily Courier_."

"That is very good news," the King said. "England and America are the
champions of freedom throughout the world. I have fought for England,
and if this wrong is done to me I shall appeal to her for justice."

A knock at the door. A young officer on the King's staff saluted.

"His Excellency the Turkish Ambassador craves the privilege of an
immediate audience," he announced.




CHAPTER XXVIII


Effenden Pascha was breathless, and for such a phlegmatic individual
seemed to be much disturbed.

"Your Majesty," he said, "I am here on a serious errand."

The King bowed.

"Proceed, Effenden Pascha."

"Your Majesty has heard the news from Bekal?"

Ughtred shook his head.

"I have heard nothing!"

The Turk raised his hands. It was incredible!

"Yesterday," he announced, "a party of my Turks riding harmlessly
along the frontier were attacked without warning by a large company of
mounted Thetians, and cut to pieces."

"It is amazing," the King declared. "Was no provocation given? Were
the Turks unarmed?"

Effenden Pascha was clear on both points. They were simply a party of
surveyors accompanied by a few soldiers. They were set upon without
the slightest warning.

"It is strange," the King remarked, "that I should have heard nothing
of this. It is stranger still, Effenden Pascha, that in my own capital
you should first have received tidings of such gravity."

The yellow-skinned Turk did not flinch. He bore the thrust without the
least sign of disquietude.

"I myself," he announced, "heard only by telegrams from Bekal ten
minutes ago. One of the survivors galloped post-haste thither
immediately after the affair. I have hastened to present the demands
of my master the Sultan."

"You lose no time," Ughtred remarked, quietly.

The Turk shrugged his shoulders.

"The affair is of great importance," he said. "My master will demand
the execution of capital punishment upon all the leaders, and an
indemnity of ten million piastres."

"Your august master," Ughtred remarked, "has lost no time in
formulating his demands. My reply to you is this. Immediately I learn
the details of the affair I will consider your proposal."

The Ambassador, who had remained standing, bowed.

"That is to say," he remarked, softly, "that at present you decline to
offer me my satisfaction or to discuss the matter with me."

"Exactly," Ughtred answered. "If the affair turns out according to
your telegram I shall at once offer to you my profound regrets, and
such reparation as is within my power. I will communicate with you
directly I hear."

The Ambassador bowed once more, and there was a steely glint in his
eyes.

"I fear," he said, "that the delay will not be pleasing to my august
master!"

"It is unavoidable," the King answered. "You agree with me, Brand?"

Brand, who had been sitting in the alcove before a writing-table
hidden by a curtain, looked out and assented gravely.

"Most certainly, your Majesty."

The Turk started. His eyes flashed.

"So!" he exclaimed. "We have been overheard."

"Mr. Brand is an Englishman of distinction," the King said, softly. "I
have appointed him for the present my private secretary. All affairs
of State, therefore, are known to him."

The Turk bowed low. It was no fool, after all, then, with whom he had
to do. He went out thoughtfully. The presence of the Englishman had
impressed him. In the council room he passed the Duke of Reist
hurrying through to the presence of the King.

"Effenden Pascha," he said, "will you wait for a moment. A dispatch
has arrived concerning which the King will desire to see you at once."

Effenden Pascha smiled, and took a chair in the ante-room beyond. He
smoked a cigarette thoughtfully, and drank the coffee which a groom of
the chambers hastened to bring him. In ten minutes Reist reappeared.

"Will you come with me?" he said.

Effenden Pascha threw down his cigarette, and followed.

The King had moved into the Council Chamber, and sat at the table with
an open telegraph dispatch before him. Baron Doxis, the President of
the House of Laws, was on one side of him, and Brand on the other.
Effenden Pascha knew very well what was coming. The King looked at
him, and there was an added sense of power in the grave, soldierly
face.

"Effenden Pascha, we too have received a telegram from Bekal. Its
contents are briefly these. Bekal, an unfortified village of Theos,
was last night attacked by a large armed body of Turks, who proceeded
to rob, murder, and outrage in the most barbarous fashion. My regard,
however, for the safety of my frontier towns has led me lately to
station bodies of mounted troops within signalling distance of Bekal,
and my dispatch informs me that in the fight which followed your
troops were driven across the frontier with heavy losses. You will
see, Effenden Pascha, that my report and yours differ."

The Turk smiled incredulously. The reports most certainly did differ.

"Now," the King continued, "if your report is the true one, I will
hold myself responsible for all the evil that has been done. If, on
the other hand, mine is true, I shall at once formulate demands which
I shall request you to lay before your august master. Now, I invite
you, in order that the truth may be placed beyond doubt, to accompany
an envoy from this court to Bekal by special train to-day, and there
agree as to what has really happened."

Effenden Pascha shrugged his shoulders.

"I must await the instructions of my master, your Majesty," he
answered, calmly.

"You decline his Majesty's proposal, then?" Reist asked quietly.

The Turk was silent. The meddlesome Englishman's pen was in the ink.
His presence was disastrous.

"I do not decline--no," he answered. "I await only a dispatch from
Constantinople. I fear that your intelligence department is at fault.
There has been no foray on the part of the Turks. My master desires
peace above all things."

Ughtred smiled.

"You say that your master desires peace above all things," he said.
"Let me see what our intelligence department has to say. Since the day
of my accession to the throne you have concentrated within twenty
miles of my frontier nearly thirty thousand men. Day by day this work
of moving up troops has been going on. Last week trains were running
all night to Bekal with war material and arms. What does this mean,
Effenden Pascha?"

The Turk was dumfounded. The King's gaze was keen and close. He
visibly faltered.

"Your Majesty's intelligence department has magnified a few harmless
movements of troops," he said. "We have internal troubles in the
northern provinces which require strong garrisons."

"But not thirty thousand men, Effenden Pascha," the King said.

The Turk bowed.

"With your permission," he said, "I will now go and lay before the
Sultan, my master, your explanation of the Bekal incident."

"We shall ourselves," the King answered, "be requiring an explanation
of that unprovoked attack upon our territory."

The Turk bowed and withdrew. The three men were left alone.

"The situation is fairly clear, I think," the King said. "Turkey is to
be Russia's catspaw--we are to be the chestnuts. One great point is in
our favour. The onus of an unprovoked invasion must rest with Turkey.
Brand will see the facts correctly stated in the English and American
papers. We had better send to the barracks at once, Reist, for the
General, and hold a council of war."

There followed an hour's anxious consultation. Then the King, without
any attendant, as was his custom, left the Palace by the side
entrance, and amidst the respectful salutations of the passers by
walked across to the villa which Mr. Van Decht had rented. Mr. Van
Decht and Sara were sitting in the garden. He accepted the chair they
offered him, and lit a cigar mechanically.

"Mr. Van Decht," he said, abruptly, "I regret exceedingly that I have
encouraged you to make investments in my country. I did it for the
best. It was for the advantage of my people, and I hoped for yours. I
told you of the one risk. I fear that it has come to pass."

Mr. Van Decht was unmoved. Sara turned upon him breathlessly.

"Do you mean war?" she exclaimed.

He nodded.

"It seems that our great neighbours," he said, "resent our
independence. Our chief enemy is Russia. In pursuance, I am convinced,
of a secret understanding with her, Turkey is on the point of
declaring war upon us."

"Then all I can say is that it is a darned shame," Mr. Van Decht
declared, hotly. "Don't you trouble yourself about my investments. If
the Turks disturb my property I guess my country will know how to make
them pay. Your Majesty, those Turks must be whipped."

"While we've a yard to stand upon or a man to fight we shall do our
best. I have been a soldier, as you know, all my life, and I have no
sentimental hatred of war. But my country--ah well, it is so different
when it is your own people who are going to die upon their homesteads,
your own womenkind who must go sorrowing through life widowed and
orphaned. I don't suppose there is anything particularly beautiful
about Theos," the King continued, thoughtfully, "yet to me her quiet
country places, her vineyards and farms, her whole rural life has
seemed so simple and charming. I have seen my people at their play and
at their daily tasks, a cheerful, honest people, light-hearted and
fond of pleasure perhaps--why not? The thought of a blackened country,
her vineyards and corn-fields red with blood, the homesteads in
flames, my poor peasants fighting to the death against cruel odds--it
is hideous! I do not dare to think of it or it will unman me. Only I
pray to the God of our fathers that this thing will not seem just to
the great liberty-loving nations and that they will not see us wiped
out from the face of the earth."

There was a moment's silence. Mr. Van Decht was smoking vigorously.
Sara was silent, because she did not dare to speak. But her eyes were
eloquent. Ughtred threw away his cigar which had gone out, and lit
another.

"Come," he said, "I am getting an old woman. We must take the more
cheerful view of things. I came to you at once, because I wanted to
give you as much notice as possible."

"What do you mean?" Sara asked, softly.

"I mean that of course you must go away," Ughtred answered. "I cannot
tell how long the railway communication will remain uninterrupted. Mr.
Van Decht----"

He turned round and broke off in his speech. Mr. Van Decht had
disappeared. Sara and he were alone.




CHAPTER XXIX


Ughtred was, on the whole, a man ill versed in women's ways. Yet even
he was conscious of a subtle change in the girl who sat by his side.
The frank friendliness of her manner towards him, which had been a
constant barrier against any suggestion of more sentimental relations,
was for the moment gone. Her eyes were soft and her face was eloquent
with beautiful and unspoken sympathy. The change was indefinable, but
apparent. Ughtred felt it, and sighed.

"This may be the last talk we shall have together for a long time," he
said, gravely; "perhaps forever. I wonder if I might be permitted--to
say something, which has come very near my heart lately."

"You may say anything you choose," she murmured.

"You know that lately I have been travelling about my country--trying
to get to know my people and to understand them. I will tell you,
Sara, what has made the greatest impression upon me. It is their
beautiful domesticity. I think that it has taught me to understand a
little how much fuller and sweeter life may be when one has a wife to
care for, and to help one. And, Sara, I think that I too have been
often lonely, and I too have needed a wife."

"Yes!"

It was no more than a whisper, but it thrilled the man. He touched
her fingers--warm and soft, they seemed almost to invite his caress.

"Sara, I have been dreaming since then, and I thought that when my
people got to understand me a little more, to trust me and believe
in me, I would go to them and say 'I am going to give you a Queen.
Only I am a man as you are men, and I must choose as you have chosen,
the one woman who has my heart.' And, Sara, there might have been
difficulties, but I think that we should have smoothed them away----"

"If!" she echoed.

"If the woman I love, Sara, cared a little for me."

It was dusk, and Ughtred scarcely knew how it happened, but she was in
his arms and they were very happy. It was dusk then, but the stars
were shining when the cathedral clock reminded him that his
love-making must be brief.

"Dear," she murmured, "if you must go, at least remember that you have
made me very happy."

"And I," he answered, cheerfully, "am afraid no longer of anything. I
have become a raving optimist. I feel that if the war comes we shall
sweep the Turks from the face of the earth."

She held out her hand and drew him to her.

"You will not repent?" she murmured. "You ought to marry a princess."

He kissed her on the lips.

"Every woman in the world," he answered, "is a princess to the man who
loves her. You are my princess. There will never be any other!"

She walked with him towards the house.

"I ought to have been discussing your departure with Mr. Van Decht,
and instead I have been discussing other things with you."

"Discussing what?"

"Your departure!"

She laughed softly.

"Do you think that we are going away?"

"You must," he answered, sadly. "Theos may be no safe place for you in
forty-eight hours even."

She pressed his arm lightly.

"Dear," she said, "you are foolish. If ever I am to be anything to you
and these people what would they think of me if I ran away when evil
times came? But wait! You must hear what father says. He knows nothing
of this."

They found him in the room he called his study. He looked up from his
desk as they entered.

"Father," Sara said, "the King wants us to leave to-morrow morning. In
forty-eight hours he says the city may be in danger."

Mr. Van Decht wheeled round in his recently imported American chair,
and puffed vigorously at his cigar.

"I wasn't reckoning upon leaving just yet," he remarked, quietly.
"Were you, Sara?"

"No!"

Ughtred looked from one to the other.

"I am afraid you don't quite understand the situation, Mr. Van Decht.
I do not think it probable of course, but it is possible that the city
may be surrounded in less than a week."

Mr. Van Decht nodded.

"I guess it isn't quite so bad as that," he answered. "In any case,
I'd like you to understand this. We've had a pretty good time here,
and we haven't any idea of scuttling out just because things aren't
exactly booming. I've a tidy idea of engineering, and I think I can
show you a wrinkle or two in trench-making. Then there's another
thing--you'll allow a man's a right to do what he pleases with his own
money?"

"Why, I suppose so," Ughtred answered.

"Well, I'm not given to bragging," Mr. Van Decht continued, "but I
reckon I'm one of the richest men in the States. Accordingly, as I'm
sort of a resident here I claim the right to help the war fund. I've
put a million to your credit at the Credit Lyonnaise, and if more's
wanted--there's plenty. I don't want any thanks; I don't mind telling
you that I'd give a lot more to see those low-down skunks get the
whipping they deserve."

Ughtred was for a moment speechless. It was Sara who replied for him.

"We are very much obliged, father," she said, smiling at him. "You
don't mind, do you?"

He looked from one to the other. He did not affect any surprise, but
his face was grave.

"Sara has promised that some day if we are spared she will be my
wife," Ughtred said, simply. "I hope that you will consent."

Mr. Van Decht nodded thoughtfully.

"I had an idea," he said, hesitatingly, "that you would be not exactly
a free agent in such a matter."

Ughtred smiled.

"My kingdom is a tiny one," he answered, "and I do not think after a
while that there will be any difficulty at all."

Mr. Van Decht rose from his chair and shook hands solemnly with the
young man.

"I wasn't reckoning upon having a King for a son-in-law," he said,
"but I know a man when I see him, and if it works out to be possible
you can take my consent for granted. Sara is the daughter of plain
people with no family to boast of, but I tell you this, sir, I am a
man with few wants, and I will give Sara the largest dowry that has
ever been given by prince or commoner. I reckon I'm worth five million
pounds, and I'll settle four and a half upon her. Theos wants money,
and that may take things a bit smoother in case of trouble."

"You are magnificently generous, sir!" Ughtred answered. "I am afraid
that nowadays a bride with such a dowry would rank above princesses."

The cathedral clock chimed again. Ughtred tore himself away. Reist met
him at the door, his eyes blazing with excitement.

"Effenden Pascha has left the city!" he exclaimed. "The Turks are
streaming over the frontier--Bushnieff has wired for reinforcements."

"The supply trains are waiting?" Ughtred asked, quickly.

"With steam up!"

"Your carriage quickly. To the barracks!" Ughtred exclaimed.




CHAPTER XXX


All night long the war-beacons of Theos reddened the sky and the
thunder of artillery woke strange echoes amongst the mountains. There
were three passes only through which the Turks could force their way
into the fertile plain which stretched from Theos southwards, and each
one, to their surprise, was found well guarded and fortified. A
simultaneous advance was repulsed with heavy loss. At Solika only, on
the far east, where the veteran General Kolashin was in command, the
first position was carried, but this temporary success was
counterbalanced by the immense losses inflicted on the advancing
columns from the second and more secure line of fortifications. Across
the plain a light railway from Theos all night long brought
reinforcements and stores to the different positions. Ughtred himself,
by means of an engine and fast horses, visited before daybreak the
three points of attack. He was present and himself directed the
successful resistance at Solika. He returned to Theos at daybreak
hopeful, and even with a certain sense of relief that the worst had
now come to pass.

Still in his uniform, stained with blood and dust, the King sat at a
small writing-table in his retiring-room reading the day's letters and
telegrams. Already he had been busy with tongue and pen. His appeal
for intervention, couched in dignified and measured terms, had been
written, signed, and dispatched by special messenger to England,
France, and Germany. For Ughtred had a very keen sense of proportion.
Courageous though he was, and confident in the bravery of his people,
he knew that his resistance unaided could only be a matter of time.

Hiram Van Decht, now a privileged person at the palace, came in to him
as he sat there.

"I guess you don't want to be bothered just now," he remarked,
apologetically, "but Sara's bound to know how things have gone so
far."

Ughtred wheeled round in his chair and welcomed his visitor.

"Cigars at your elbow," he said. "Help yourself."

Van Decht disregarded the invitation. He looked steadily at the King.
Then he rang the bell.

"You'll forgive the liberty, I know," he said, "but I'm going to tell
that flunkey of yours to fetch a flask of wine, and see you drink
some."

Ughtred smiled.

"I was just going to order something," he said. "I've had a hard
night. So far nothing has gone amiss. Our outposts were rushed at
Solika, but our main position was easily held."

Van Decht nodded.

"That's good! Any fighting at Althea Pass?"

"We are being heavily shelled there and at Morania, but I consider
that both places are almost impregnable. Solika is where we must
concentrate. You see we have treachery to fear there. It is a frontier
town and full of small Russian traders. Reist is garrisoning the
place, and General Dartnoff is in command of the forces holding the
Pass. Just now everything is quiet. I fancy they are waiting to bring
up more heavy guns."

Van Decht lit a cigar meditatively.

"This is what beats me," he remarked. "I can never figure out your
European politics, but I should never have thought that England and
Germany would have allowed a small, unoffending country to be overrun
and grabbed by a lot of heathen infidels."

Ughtred sighed.

"It is hard to understand," he said. "Only you must remember this.
Selfishness is the keynote of international politics, as of many other
things. A single Power is always afraid of moving for fear of
disturbing the balance of nations. Besides, they all know that this is
no war between Turkey and Theos. It is Russia who is pulling the
strings."

"That's all right," Mr. Van Decht admitted, "but I should say that
you've a sort of a claim on England. You're half an Englishman,
anyway. You've fought her battles. She's big enough to give you a
lift."

"If help comes from anywhere," Ughtred answered, "it will come from
England. I have appealed to the Powers, and to England especially. Mr.
Ellis has already been here, and he is representing my case strongly."

Wine was brought in, and food. Ughtred ate little, but smoked a cigar.

"What's the next move?" Mr. Van Decht asked.

"Well, I am waiting now for news from Reist," the King said. "We are
in telegraphic communication with Solika, and I can get there on my
engine in an hour. So long as we can hold Solika we are safe, for I
do not think that we can possibly be outflanked. Our whole southern
frontier only extends for forty miles, and there are only two
practicable passes."

"Reist anything of a soldier?" Mr. Van Decht asked after a brief
silence.

"For this sort of work--excellent!" Ughtred answered.

"You trust him?"

"As myself. I never knew a man more devoted to his country. It is his
religion! Why do you ask?"

Van Decht took his cigar from his mouth and regarded it thoughtfully.

"Sara doesn't like him!"

The King laughed.

"He's no lady's man."

"Sara has instinct," her father remarked. "Can't say I take to him
myself. There's a kink in the man somewhere."

Ughtred smiled.

"Well, it isn't in his loyalty or his bravery," Ughtred answered. "He
is my best soldier, my most capable adviser, and I owe him my
kingdom."

Van Decht abandoned the subject.

"I'll get along," he said, rising. "Take my advice. Lie down a bit
till your message comes along. You're looking pretty bad."

Ughtred smiled.

"The first day of war," he said, "even on a small scale, is the most
wearing. Later on we shall take things more easily. Only you must
remember, sir, that it is for the liberty of an ancient kingdom we
fight, not only for our own lives, but for the happiness of unborn
generations. I would sooner see Theos blotted out forever from the map
of Europe and the memory of man than have her exist a vassal state of
Russia."

Mr. Van Decht departed in respectful silence. If tradition or
sentiment appealed to him but slightly, he knew an honest man by
instinct, and he was fast drifting into a very close sympathy with his
future son-in-law.

There came word from Reist within the hour. Ughtred tore open the
envelope and spread out the cipher-book before him.

"No signs of movement on part of enemy. Scouts report big guns being
mounted on positions commanding ours. Solika restless. Have hung two
spies. General Dartnoff desires council of war this afternoon."




CHAPTER XXXI


Before the great high window, Marie of Reist watched the red fires
flaring in the mountains and listened to the far-off booming of the
guns. Behind her the room was in darkness, for she had turned out the
lamps to see more clearly into the night. So when a voice at her elbow
roused her she started with a sudden fear.

"Countess, you hear the war-note yonder! Listen again! Those guns are
sounding the knell of the House of Tyrnaus."

She recovered herself--yet she was amazed.

"Baron Domiloff! What, are you still in Theos?"

"Still in Theos, Countess. I remain here to the end."

"But you were banished," she exclaimed.

He smiled inscrutably.

"Yes," he answered. "I was banished--by Ughtred of Tyrnaus. Still, as
you see, I remain. To tell you the truth, Countess, it did not seem
worth my while to go--for so short a time."

"You must be a master in the art of corruption," she remarked.

"Indeed no," he assured her. "There are a few of my country people in
the city. There are also Thetians who understand that the Tyrnaus
dynasty is only a passing thing."

"I am not so sure," she answered, "that I agree with you. They say
that he is a skilful and gallant soldier, and we of Theos love brave
men. An hour ago he rode back to the palace, his uniform stained with
dust and blood, and the people cheered him like mad things. They say
that he has driven the Turks back at all points."

Domiloff smiled.

"Dear lady," he said, "the successes of to-day or to-morrow are of no
account. The Turks are mounting great guns in positions which must
command every point where the Thetians are covering the passes. The
end of it is as certain as a mathematical problem. Before a month has
passed Theos must sue for peace or admit the Turks to the city."

"You are very certain."

"Warfare to-day," he answered, "can be determined on mathematical
lines. Bravery is a delightful quality in the abstract, but brave men
are killed as easily as cowards. Tell me, have you spoken with your
brother?"

"Yes!"

"He will not consent to this Van Decht alliance?"

"No!"

Domiloff smiled.

"It is good," he answered. "I think that the time has come when I may
approach him myself."

She shook her head.

"He is wild with the excitement of fighting," she said. "The King and
he have fought together, and Nicholas speaks of him as a brave comrade
and a patriot. Last night he wrote to me from Solika, and he spoke of
the King as a brother. For the moment he has forgotten all about the
Van Decht alliance. Take my advice--leave Nicholas alone."

Domiloff looked out into the night, frowning and thoughtful.

"When the tide of battle changes," he said, "your brother's enthusiasm
will wane. He will remember the slight upon you--upon his name."

She regarded him proudly.

"It is very seldom," she remarked, "that you permit me to forget it."

He smiled. The sight of his white teeth gleaming in the twilight
filled her with repulsion. The man was like a wolf.

"Countess," he said, "I am not a hypocrite. I am pledged to the
deposition of the King, and you are my natural ally, for it is your
brother who must take his place, and you who must prevent the
sacrilege of this proposed marriage. So you see I am open with you. We
are both working towards the same end. Therefore I say, let us work
together."

They were silent for a few minutes listening to the distant roar of
the guns, watching the lurid lights which every now and then lit up
with an unholy glare that distant background. Then she turned to him.

"There is nothing," she said, "which I can do. Besides, whilst the war
lasts everything else seems small. To see Theos drive back the
infidels and retain her freedom I would be content even to let things
remain, and end my days there in the convent."

He shook his head.

"Dear lady," he said, "you were not made for a convent any more than
Sara Van Decht was made for a throne. Try and believe in me a little
more. I, too, desire a free Theos. You are a woman, and you have wit
and courage. Say to yourself this. It is necessary for Theos that your
brother and the King should quarrel. Keep it always in your mind.
Remember that your brother's anger only slumbers. The King has
insulted you and your House. The whole history of your family could
disclose no such affront tamely borne. Besides, there is your
friend--the Englishman."

She turned swiftly upon him.

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Only that I know no man whose future I would believe in more readily
if he were content to settle down in Theos. Your brother could see to
it that it was made worth his while. Tell me--when will you see the
Duke of Reist?"

"Perhaps to-night," she answered, straining her eyes through the
darkness. "If all is quiet in Solika he said that he might return for
a few hours."

Domiloff nodded.

"Very well! Remember what I have said to you, Countess. A rupture
between your brother and the King will save Theos. You understand?"

"Yes," she answered, in a low tone. "I understand."




CHAPTER XXXII


Ughtred sprang to his feet. He was half asleep and a little
dazed--wholly bewildered at the apparition which was suddenly sharing
the solitude of his chamber. It was Marie of Reist who stood before
him in a wonderful rose- gown tied loosely around her. She was
paler than he had ever seen her--her eyes bright with purpose--behind
the open panel.

"You bring news," he cried. "Do you come from Nicholas?"

She shook her head.

"I know nothing of Nicholas," she answered. "I came to see you."

He was speechless. Her visit seemed to him amazing, its object an
enigma.

"I wished to speak to you alone. Lately it has been impossible. Lock
your door."

He obeyed, but he returned to her with a grave face.

"Marie," he said, "think for a moment. It is better that I should come
to you. To-morrow----"

She interrupted him with an impatient gesture. At that moment the roar
of distant artillery was distinctly audible.

"There may be no to-morrow," she answered. "It is for the sake of
Theos I have come. You must hear me."

"For your own sake, Countess," he begged, earnestly, "I beg that you
will leave me. At any moment we may be interrupted. Messages are
brought to me continually--and the hour is late."

"I am the Countess of Reist," she answered, proudly, "and the people
of Theos know me. I have come to ask you a question. You must hear me,
and you must answer me."

He smiled.

"You are a little peremptory," he said. "Never mind! The question?"

"There have been rumours, your Majesty, of a marriage between you and
the American, Miss Van Decht."

He looked across at her in displeased surprise.

"These are no times for thought or speech of such things," he
answered.

She turned upon him with a sudden fierceness. A spot of angry colour
burned in her cheeks.

"You are wrong," she exclaimed. "I have come to you resolved to know
the truth. Listen, your Majesty. There are those who say that in your
long exile you have forgotten all that is due to your birth and your
country. They say that you are at heart a democrat. That it is in your
mind to marry this daughter of an American tradesman, to offer her to
the people of Theos as their queen."

"It is true," he answered. "What of it?"

She looked at him for a moment as though stricken with a sudden blow.
To her the idea was heresy, rank and foul. A storm of indignant
passion swept through her.

"It is impossible," she cried, fiercely. "There is not a lady of
Theos who would attend your Court. Do you think that I--Marie of
Reist, would kiss the hand of this Van Decht woman--I, or any of the
others? Oh, it is madness."

"Countess," he said, quietly, "we will choose another time for the
discussion of this matter. You must forgive me if I beg that you will
leave me."

"Another time," she answered. "Oh, listen! You depend at this moment
on the loyalty of Theos to defend your throne. Do you believe that you
could command it if this were known? In the mountains the Turks are
gathering a great army, in the city there is treachery. Ah, you start,
but my words are true. If the words which you have spoken to me had
been spoken from the balcony there your throne would have been lost
forever."

He looked at her curiously--not altogether unimpressed. Treachery!
What did she mean by that? She moved a step nearer to him. Underneath
her loose gown her bosom rose and fell quickly. Her face was flushed
and her eyes brilliant.

"Your Majesty," she said, "do you know that by all the traditions of
Theos you are betrothed to me--that the people of Theos wait day by
day for the announcement?"

He looked at her in blank amazement. He was bereft of words. Her eyes
flashed fire upon him.

"It is an insult--this purpose of yours," she cried. "You and I have
drunk together from the King's cup. It has been the betrothal ceremony
in the royal House of Theos for generations. You a stranger, who owe
your very throne to us, have dared to ignore it--you, who propose to
raise to the throne of the most ancient kingdom of Europe a woman of
unknown birth. It is an infamy."

"Countess," he answered, "you know quite well that I was ignorant of
your custom, of the history of that cup."

"There are times," she said, fiercely, "when ignorance is worse than
crime. No man yet, even a king, has lived to break faith with the
House of Reist."

He had recovered himself--and he remembered. He addressed her
steadily, yet with a growing coldness in his tone.

"Is it your wish then, Countess, that I fulfil the obligations which
you say I have incurred?"

Her face burned, her eyes were lit with fire. He had gained an
advantage. He had made her angry.

"It is a brutal question," she cried, "but quickly answered. You know
quite well that if it were so I should not be here. No! I would not
marry you--not even to be Queen of Theos."

"Then why----"

"Oh, but you are blind," she interrupted, passionately. "You
understand nothing. I repeat that I would not marry you to be Queen of
Theos. I am willing to be your friend. I am willing to forget your
broken pledge. But listen! Theos is the dearest thing on earth to me.
I am jealous for my country, not for myself. I will not have this
tradesman's daughter Queen of Theos. Do you think that I, Marie of
Reist, would follow her from the room, would bend my knee to her,
would call her Queen? It is madness inconceivable. I speak for
myself, but there are others who feel as I feel. It would be an
insult to every royal family in Europe. These are the things which I
have come to say. You must abandon your purpose, or----"

"Or?"

There was a moment's deep silence. She shook her head very slowly.

"There is not a noble of Theos, your Majesty, who would not consider
himself justified in rescinding his oath to a king who could stoop so
low."

Ughtred eyed her gravely.

"Marie," he said, "you are a peeress of Theos in your own right, and
as such you yourself have taken an oath of allegiance to me."

"It is true, your Majesty," she answered, coldly. "And I tell you now
that the announcement of your betrothal to Sara Van Decht would in my
opinion and before my conscience justify me in breaking that oath. And
your Majesty must remember further that those who are not with you are
against you."

The King sat down and leaned his head upon his hand. Was this really
how the people of Theos would regard his marriage, if indeed it should
ever come to pass? The girl was so terribly in earnest, and of
personal feeling it seemed after all that she had none. A cloud crept
over his face.

"It is a threat," he said, quietly. "Countess, I beg that you will
leave me. I will think over all that you have said, and I will discuss
it fully with your brother, and my other advisers. Forgive me if I add
that I think it would be more fitting."

He pointed to the open panel. She held up her head as though
listening, but Ughtred heard nothing. Then she looked once more at the
King. Something in his face reminded her for the moment of the man
whom he resembled. He was tired, and his distress touched her heart.
She moved suddenly over to his side and dropped upon her knee. The
heavy sleeves fell back from her wrists, her white fingers touched his
arms. She remembered that they had been young together, and after all
the destinies of Theos were largely in his hands. He looked into her
face and was amazed at the change. Her tone no longer shook with
anger. She pleaded to him.

"Your Majesty, you and I were children together. Listen to me. I have
lived in Theos all my life, and the love of my country has become a
religion to me. For her sake, listen. You must not think any more of
Sara Van Decht. Your marriage would be impossible. The House of Laws
would not permit it, the nobility of Theos, of whom alas there are but
few left, would not tolerate it. I am speaking the truth to you. As
for what has been between you and me it shall go for nothing.
I--listen--I love another man. Wait for a few years, and then seek for
a wife where the royal House of Theos has the right to seek. I, who
know, tell you that this is your duty--that even now your throne is in
peril that you know nothing of."

[Illustration: "NICHOLAS OF REIST STOOD ON THE THRESHOLD."]

For the fraction of a second Ughtred hesitated, seeking about in his
mind only how best to terminate a painful situation. And that brief
period became almost a fatal interlude, for she saw what was passing
in his mind. Then a low, fierce cry came to them from the shadows of
the room. Nicholas of Reist stood on the threshold of the open panel,
his drawn sword quivering in his hand.




CHAPTER XXXIII


It was a curiously deep silence which reigned for many moments in the
King's chamber. Ughtred slowly drew a little apart from Marie and
glanced sternly from one to the other. His momentary suspicion,
however, died away. The look on the face of Nicholas of Reist was such
as no man, even the most consummate of actors, might assume.

"What news do you bring?" the King said, quietly. "Is all well at
Solika?"

Reist pointed to his sister.

"There are no fresh tidings," he answered. "I await your Majesty's
explanation of my sister's presence here."

Ughtred drew himself up. The blood of an ancient race asserted itself.
He eyed Reist coldly. It was the King who faced a rebellious subject.

"I have no explanation to offer to you, Duke of Reist," he answered.
"Seek it instead from your sister. It is she who should afford it you,
seeing that her presence here was undesired by me, and unexpected."

"Your Majesty lies!" Reist thundered.

There was a deep and awful silence. Then Ughtred turned upon him, a
fierce flash of anger in his blue eyes.

"Duke of Reist," he said, "you are a privileged person at this Court,
and I have called you my friend. You will unsay those words, or hand
me your sword."

"I repeat," Reist said, fiercely, "that your Majesty lies."

The King pointed to the open panel.

"Countess," he ordered, "leave us. This matter is between your brother
and myself. We can settle it best in your absence."

She turned to her brother.

"Nicholas," she said, "the King's word is truth. I came here without
any knowledge of his. I remained here against his will. It was unwise,
perhaps, but the fault was mine. I wished to hear from his own lips
what truth there was in these rumours of his coming marriage."

"Was it your place to ask the King these things?" he demanded,
fiercely. "Was it dignified or seemly of you--you, his affianced
bride?"

"I am not his affianced bride, Nicholas," she answered. "That was an
idle ceremony. It was true we drank together of the King's cup, but
its history was unknown to him."

He eyed them both with a fierce scorn.

"God alone knows of what cup you have drunk together," he cried,
bitterly. "How often have you found it necessary to seek him here in
the solitude of his chamber? How often have you used this infernal
passage?"

"To seek the King, never," she answered firmly. "I used it when I
found Brand here. If I had not, Theos might to-day have been a Russian
State."

He pointed with unshaking finger to the opening in the wall.

"Pass away, Marie!"

She hesitated.

"It is the truth which I have told you, Nicholas," she said.

He thrust before her eyes a piece of paper.

"You are young, Marie, to lie so glibly even for your lover's sake.
Here is the message which summoned you here, written in the King's
handwriting, signed with the King's name. You left it on the table, so
that even the servants might know of the shame which has come upon our
House."

The King crossed the room and looked over Marie's shoulder. It was
indeed his own notepaper, and the writing of those few words strangely
resembled his.

"Come now, I am alone.--U."

The King looked up with grave face.

"It is a forgery!" he said.

"It is a forgery," Marie echoed, white to the lips.

Nicholas of Reist said nothing. He pointed to the open panel. A look
of horror flashed into the girl's face. She understood.

"Nicholas," she cried, "that message never came from the King. Where
you found it I do not know, but I never saw it before. You must
believe me, Nicholas. The King was ignorant of my coming. He was
unwilling that I should remain even for a moment."

"I repeat," the King said, gravely, "that the writing which you hold
in your hands is a forgery, Nicholas. I have never written to your
sister in my life. This is part of a plot which shall be sifted to the
bottom."

Still Nicholas stood silent before the panel, and Marie passed out. He
shut it carefully. Then he turned to the King, who was still standing
with that half-sheet of notepaper in his hand.

"Your Majesty," he said, "I desire to know whether it is your
intention to marry my sister."

The King looked him squarely in the face.

"Nicholas," he said, "have I ever in my life done or said anything to
give rise to such a belief?"

"Your Majesty," Reist answered, with a bow, "has been ever most
discreet. Yet before witnesses you pledged my sister in our ancient
betrothal cup, well knowing its immutable record."

"That is true," the King answered, "but at the time I showed clearly
that with me at least it was a jest. I plead guilty to an act of
folly. I came straight here from life amongst a people to whom symbols
and ceremonies have become as empty things--a practical and
utilitarian people, and I did not recognize the passionate clinging of
the dwellers in these more romantic countries to old customs and old
ritual. I deeply regret it, Nicholas. I have no other regret."

Reist pointed to the letter which still remained in the King's
fingers. Ughtred tore it through with a gesture of contempt.

"I did not write it," he said. "I did not invite your sister's
presence."

Reist controlled himself with a visible effort.

"Your Majesty," he said, "I beg you for one moment to reflect. I
appeal once more, less for your sake or mine, than for our country's,
to your honour. Your throne you owe to me. I have been your faithful
servant, and my sword is yet wet with the blood of your enemies. Our
name is great throughout Europe. An alliance with us can only
strengthen your hold upon the people. It ill becomes me to force these
things upon you, but the issue is great. Do you seek the hand of my
sister in marriage?"

"I do not," the King answered. "I never have done. Wait."

Reist paused with his hand upon the hilt of his sword. The King
continued.

"For the sake of my kingdom I do not order you from my presence,
Reist. We are in danger, as you know, and I can ill spare a brave man.
Listen. On my honour I, Ughtred of Tyrnaus, declare to you that the
letter you found is a forgery, that your sister's presence here was as
much a surprise to me as to you, that I never for one single moment
failed in the respect which I owe to her as the sister of my best
subject."

"That," Reist said, coldly, "is your Majesty's last word?"

"It is."

Reist drew his sword from his scabbard and bent it upon the ground
till the blade snapped. The pieces he threw before the King.

"I resign my position in the army," he said, "and I withdraw my oath
of allegiance. We are on equal terms now, Ughtred of Tyrnaus, and I
demand satisfaction from you for this affront upon my House."

Ughtred eyed him sternly for a moment, but without anger.

"First, sir," he said, "discharge yourself of your duty. Report to me
of the position at Solika."

"We have withstood a fierce attack," Reist answered, coldly, "and
driven the Turks off with heavy losses. I regret to add, however, that
Solika is a hotbed of Russian intrigue, and what we gain in the field
we shall doubtless lose through treachery. My force are encamped
outside the city, and there are scouts duly posted to warn us of any
fresh attack. I desire your answer, Ughtred of Tyrnaus."

The King's eyes flashed with anger.

"Be careful, sir," he exclaimed, "or my answer will be a file of
soldiers and the prison."

There was a brief pause. An angry spot burned on Reist's cheeks, but
he kept silent.

"My answer to you is this, sir," the King said. "All duties which I
owe as a private individual are secondary to those I owe my country.
So long as the war lasts I decline your challenge. The day it is over
I will meet you under any condition you choose to name. Now go!"

"But----"

"Sir," the King thundered, "I do not bandy words with my subjects.
Go!"

Reist passed out in silence. The panel rolled heavily back. The King
was alone! He sank heavily on to his couch and buried his face in his
hands.




CHAPTER XXXIV


Once more brother and sister stood face to face in the great shadowy
audience-room of the Reist palace. Again, too, there was the clamour
of many voices in the streets below, for a messenger had just galloped
in with news from the front, and a sad procession of ambulance wagons
had arrived for the hospital. Only it seemed to them both that that
other day, of which both for a moment thought, lay far back in some
uncertain past. Events had marched so rapidly during the last few
months that all sense of proportion and distance was lost. They looked
at one another with white, haggard faces. Marie saw that her brother
no longer wore his sword.

"What has happened?" she asked, faintly.

The fires of hell were smouldering in his dark eyes. Yet he answered
with some attempt at calmness.

"I challenged him. I had the right! He did not deny it, but he will
not fight until the war is over. I have broken my sword. I am an
outcast from my people--and he is still their king. Marie, you have
brought great trouble upon our House."

"It was not I who brought him here," she answered. "I was against it
always. The trouble is of your making--and his. He drank with me from
the King's cup."

"Ay! And to-night he refused absolutely to marry you, Marie. I
suffered the everlasting humiliation of offering your hand--to have it
refused."

She drew a short, quick breath. It was humiliation indeed. A sudden
wild anger seized her. She locked and interlocked her fingers
nervously.

"They are an accursed race, these men of Tyrnaus," she cried. "They
make vows only to break them. Their honour is a broken reed."

Then Nicholas, his face gleaming white through the darkness, leaned
over to her.

"Marie," he said, "those written words--which summoned you to
him--were his?"

She hesitated. He raised his hand.

"Marie," he said, solemnly, "answer me as though your foot were upon
the threshold of eternity. Remember that the name of Reist will become
a name of shame for ever if you speak falsely. He is young, and he
came here a stranger to us and our traditions. With our country in
peril I might forgive for the while his broken troth--if that were
all. But if he has dared to hold you lightly--that I cannot forgive.
Tell me the truth! Was that message, indeed, from him which summoned
you to a clandestine meeting?"

She met his fixed gaze with beating heart. Her bosom rose and fell
quickly. She was torn with a hundred emotions. At last she answered.

"Nicholas," she said, "I know nothing of that note. I sought the king
of my own free will."

Reist paced the room with quick, uneven footsteps. Marie sat at the
table, her head buried in her hands. He did not approach her. Through
the open window came the dull booming of guns. The sound was a
torture to him.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, at last.

"God only knows!" he answered, bitterly. "I have no King and no
country. Yet if I stay here I shall go mad."

She removed her hands from her face and looked at him stealthily.

"If there were a way," she whispered, "to save Theos, and to be
avenged on Ughtred of Tyrnaus."

He stopped short.

"What do you mean?"

"If there were still a way," she whispered, "by which our old dream
might come true. If it were still possible that you might become the
saviour of our country, might even now rescue it from the Turks----"

"Plain words," he cried. "Let there be no enigmas between you and me.
What do you mean?"

She looked at him more boldly.

"If a great Power should say 'I will not help Theos in her trouble
because I do not recognize Ughtred of Tyrnaus, but if the right man is
willing to accept the throne--so--I will stretch out my hand--the war
shall cease--Theos shall be free.' What do you think of that,
Nicholas?"

He looked at her with new eyes.

"Whose thoughts are these?" he asked, slowly.

"Domiloff's!"

"He has spoken to you?"

"Yes!"

"It is treason," he cried, hoarsely. "I will have none of it."

"Who," she asked, "is a greater traitor than Ughtred of Tyrnaus?"

He was silent.

"Who," she cried, "is better beloved in Theos?--who could rule the
people more wisely than you, Nicholas? It would save our country from
conquest and pillage. It is--the only way. Is it not what we have
spoken of before--have not you yourself pointed upwards to that motto,
whose writing is surely no less clear to-day? Oh, Nicholas, you cannot
hesitate."

He walked to the window and looked out towards the hills, where the
red lights still flared and the guns made sullen music. Her words were
like poison to him.

"Listen, Nicholas," she said. "While Ughtred of Tyrnaus is king no
help will come to us from any other nation, and without help how can
Theos hold out against a hundred thousand Turks? We have few soldiers
and fewer guns. Our population will be decimated, our country laid
waste, and the end will be slavery. It is for you to save us all. It
is you who can save Theos."

He looked at her with cold, stern eyes.

"How long have you been the confidante of Domiloff?"

"It is only lately," she answered, "that he has spoken to me of these
things. I think, Nicholas, that he is afraid of you."

"Perhaps," Reist remarked, bitterly, "he mistook me for an honest
man."

"It is freedom for Theos," she said, softly, "and revenge upon the
King. Whatever may befall him from our hands he has deserved."

"Is Domiloff still in Theos?" he asked.

She nodded.

"You will find him at the Cafe Metropolitan," she said, "only he is
now a Frenchman. You must ask for Monsieur Abouyat."

Reist moved restlessly up and down the room. Often his fingers sought
the place where his sword should have been.

"Something I must do," he muttered. "I might disguise myself as a
peasant and fight in the ranks. To be here idle is horrible; to go to
Domiloff--I cannot!"

He looked gloomily out into the darkness. The inaction was
unendurable. She crossed the room to his side and laid her hand upon
his arm.

"It is not by standing still, Nicholas, or by indecision that you can
preserve your country or avenge your honour," she said. "Go to
Domiloff. Hear what he has to say. Then ask yourself what is best for
Theos."

"Domiloff has the tongue of a fiend," he answered, "or a serpent. I do
not dare to trust myself with him. Russia would play us false in the
end. Our freedom would be undermined. I myself should be a puppet, a
doll, at the beck and call of a master. Oh, I know how these Russians
treat an independent State if once their fingers are upon her throat."

"You talk as though Theos were not already doomed," she cried. "What
hope have we as it is? Nicholas, have you ever thought what must
happen when the Turks have crossed the frontier. You know their
way--it is blood and fire and desolation. Have you considered the
women and children, Nicholas?"

He groaned. The recollection of former raids was lurid and terrible
enough. It was hard for him to see clearly. And his scabbard was
empty.

"I will go to Domiloff," he said at last, "I will hear what he has to
say."




CHAPTER XXXV


It was very dark, very stuffy, and a strong, malodorous suggestion of
garlic pervaded the little _cafe_. The ordinary customers of the place
preferred always the round tables outside, and very few passed through
the worn swing doors which led to the gloomy interior. The two men who
occupied one of the small partitions had the place to themselves.

"It is not the time, this, for any weak scruples, my dear Reist,"
Domiloff was saying. "Theos in a week's time will be either a Russian
State forever, or once more a free country with a ruler who is one of
her own sons, and in whom my master can repose every confidence. You
see I am very frank with you. I admit that this attack upon your
country is the will and the decree of Russia. It was broached in
London, confirmed in St. Petersburg, and planned in Constantinople.
Yet, believe me, it was conceived in no spirit of enmity to Theos. It
is simply this. We will not have a Tyrnaus upon the throne of Theos."

"Your country," Reist answered, hoarsely, "has no great reputation for
generosity. What are we to pay for our freedom? You would not have me
believe that there is no price."

"There is none," was the quiet answer, "which you, as a patriot and a
Thetian, need hesitate to pay. We should require the abolition of the
present edict prohibiting Russians from holding public offices, and a
few more such unimportant concessions. They are nothing. They will
serve only to knit our countries more closely together in friendship."

Reist laughed hardly.

"Yet I think," he said, "that the freedom of Theos would become
somewhat of a jest were I to accept your terms."

"The alternative," Domiloff remarked, "may seem more pleasing to you.
Yet I have heard people say unpleasant things of the Turkish yoke."

"Theos is not yet conquered," Reist answered. "Ughtred, to do him
justice, is a soldier, and my people have the love of fighting born in
their hearts."

"The odds are too great--and you know it," was the quiet reply.
"Besides, the Turkish army is led by Russians and supplied with
Russian artillery. The result is certain."

"There may be intervention!"

"From whom?" Domiloff asked, smiling. "France is the monkey who dances
to my master's music--Austria is bound to us, Germany is
geographically powerless."

"There is England."

Domiloff laughed outright.

"England as a European Power," he declared, "has ceased to exist. A
few Dutch farmers have pricked the bubble of her military reputation.
If she should have the sublime impudence to lift her voice we should
treat her with the contempt she has earned. No, Reist, there will be
no intervention. Your brave Thetians will be cut to pieces, your
country will be pillaged and burned, your women will become the
consorts of the Turkish soldiery, your ladies will go to grace a
Turkish harem. These things must be unless you have the courage to
hold out your hand. You call yourself a patriot. Prove it! The issue
is plain enough."

The words bit into Reist's heart. He sat in gloomy silence. From afar
off he seemed to hear the battle-cry of his beloved soldiers, the
thunder of hoofs, the flashing steel, the glory of the charge thrilled
his blood. There was patriotism indeed--there, where the lances
dripped red and the bullets flew. And he, Nicholas of Reist, sat
skulking in the back room of a doubtful _cafe_, safely out of harm's
reach, talking treason with one who had ever been the foremost of his
country's enemies.

"You bought Metzger," he said, "and the people cast him out. You may
buy me, and yet the people will not accept your terms. They will not
have Russians in authority over them. The hatred of your country is a
religion with them."

"They believe in you as they would believe in no other man," Domiloff
answered. "You can make the situation clear to them. In your heart you
know that it is their only salvation."

"They may save their skins," Reist admitted, "but after all life is a
short thing. It is better to die like gods than to live like slaves."

Domiloff shook his head.

"My friend," he said, "there is but one life that we know anything of,
and it should not be lightly thrown away. You can save Theos if you
will. Supposing, however, that you are obstinate--that you cling to
your ancient prejudices--well, what will you do then? Consider your
position. You have quarrelled with the King. Your place in the army
has gone, you have surrendered your sword. How can you ever show
yourself in Theos again, who lingered here in the hour of battle? Be
wise, my friend. Before you there is but one possible course. Take it.
The day will come when every man who calls himself a Thetian will
bless your name."

"Or curse it!" Reist muttered.

"Curse it, indeed," Domiloff answered, "if you play the coward. It is
the hour now for a strong man to rise. You are that man. Ughtred of
Tyrnaus, whom you call your king, is even now forging the fetters to
lead Theos into slavery. It is for you to thrust him aside and save
your people."

"His is the nobler way," Reist cried, bitterly. "Domiloff, I can
listen to you no longer. I am not the man you seek. My feet are not
used to these tortuous ways. I will ask the King's pardon. He will
give me back my sword, and I can at least find a glorious death."

"You can fight then for a King who has deprived you of your sword?"
Domiloff whispered. "You can forgive him the insult he has thrust upon
your sister. You can bear to think of her, slighted for the daughter
of an American tradesman. Who is Ughtred of Tyrnaus that he should do
this thing, and that the Duke of Reist should ask his pardon!"

Reist ground his teeth.

"I can force my way into the ranks and fight unknown," he said,
hoarsely. "It would be better to die there than to live to listen to
your poisonous whisperings. I do not trust you, Domiloff. I cannot. I
have no pledge that you would keep your word."

A sudden change flashed into the white face of the Russian. He sat
perfectly still--listening. Reist opened his lips to ask a question,
but it remained unasked. He, too, heard the sound. Somewhere behind
the partition a man's breathing was distinctly audible. Domiloff's
hand sought his pocket, and he rose softly to his feet.

The intruder, whoever he might be, did not hesitate for a second. He
leaped through the window by which he had entered, and ran down the
passage. Domiloff followed him, and peering forward fired a couple of
shots in rapid succession. Apparently they were fruitless, for the
fugitive gained the open space in front of the _cafe_ and mingled with
the crowd. There was a rush of bystanders towards the two men, but
Domiloff raised his hands and cried in Thetian--

"A Turk! A Turk! A spy! Follow him!"

There was a rush across the street. Domiloff and Reist exchanged rapid
glances with one another.

"A spy indeed, but a spy from the other side," Domiloff muttered. "I
wonder how much he heard."

But Reist was speechless. To him the interruption had come like the
awakening from a horrible dream. There was a man then--a man of Theos
who knew him for a traitor.

The hue and cry had left them alone. Suddenly Domiloff stooped down. A
soft felt hat lay almost at their feet. Through the brim and crown was
a small round hole.

"It is his hat," Domiloff muttered. "Why did I not aim an inch lower?"

He struck a match, and looked for the name inside the lining. It was
Scott and Co., Bond Street, London.

Reist felt his cheeks burn, though the night was cool. Domiloff's
voice sounded unnaturally calm.

"It was the Englishman then, Walter Brand. Good!"

"The King's friend," Reist faltered.

Domiloff nodded.

"I do not think," he said, "that he will ever see the King again."




CHAPTER XXXVI


Late that night a man stood motionless amongst the shrubs in the
garden of the Reist house. His eyes were fixed always upon a certain
window where a light was burning. He muttered often to himself, and
the things which he said were not pleasant to hear. He was tired and
cramped with his long waiting--yet so long as that light burned he
dared not approach the house.

There came to him at last a welcome sound, a light footstep and the
trailing of a skirt upon the gravel path. He leaned forward.

"Countess, I am here."

Marie stooped to pluck a flower, and slipped behind the shrub. They
were now invisible from the house.

"You received my note?" he asked.

"Yes."

"It was more than two hours ago. I am cold and tired with waiting. Was
it necessary to keep me here so long?"

"Quite," she answered. "I came as soon as it was safe."

"Who has been with your brother to-night?" he asked.

"How do you know that we have not been alone?"

He pointed to the light still burning in the window.

"That light," he said. "See, it is just extinguished. Your visitor has
gone."

She laughed bitterly.

"You are well served--by my servants," she said.

"It is for all our interests! The visitor?"

"It was General Kolashin."

"The General himself?"

"Yes. He came to reason with my brother about giving up his command."

Domiloff frowned.

"Your brother did not waver?"

"He wavered a good deal. But for me I think that he would have
returned to camp. I am sorry now that I interfered."

"You are not in a pleasant humour to-night, I fear, Countess."

"I am never in a pleasant humour when I have to do with--such as you.
Treason and deceit are ugly things, to us, at least, Baron Domiloff."

"I do not agree with your terms, Countess," he answered, "but this is
scarcely the place or the time for argument. Your brother?"

"He awaits you."

"He has spoken of our interview?"

"Yes!"

"And you have told him?"

"To beware of Baron Domiloff," she answered, coolly.

He bent over to read her face, uncertain in the dim twilight.

"You are jesting," he murmured.

"It is very possible," she admitted.

She turned away from him, and looked towards the hills. The muttering
of artillery still continued. Domiloff was uneasy.

"Countess," he said, "I must go in to your brother, for this evening
we were overheard in the Cafe Metropolitan, and I am not safe in the
city any longer. But, I pray you to tell me this. What is your
brother's disposition concerning these matters of which we have
talked?"

She shook her head.

"I cannot tell you. I have done what I can, but he himself is torn
with doubts and fears. The sound of the guns, and the thought of the
fighting goads him to madness. I have done what I promised. Through me
he has broken with the King, and I have sent him to you. The rest you
should have accomplished."

"And so I should," Domiloff declared, fiercely, "but for that cursed
interruption. It is ill to do with men who do not know their own
minds."

"Or with women in the like straits, my friend," she murmured.

He shot a quick glance at her.

"Of you," he declared, quietly, "I have no fear. You would not see
this American girl Queen of Theos. I do not think that you would stand
in waiting before her throne."

Marie's face was for a moment white with passion. She seemed as though
she would strike him. Domiloff watched her narrowly. He liked to be
sure of every one with whom he had to deal, and there were times when
she eluded him.

"No," she answered at last. "It is not likely that I should do that.
Baron Domiloff, I will show you the way to my brother's room."

"One moment."

He touched her arm. She drew it away with an angry exclamation.
Domiloff was not without vanity, and his personal repugnance to her,
which she was at no pains to hide, galled him. For a moment he dared
not trust himself to speak.

"Will you be so good as to remember," she said, with cutting force,
"that my toleration of you is on account of Theos, and Theos only.
Personally, I hate all conspirators and plotters. The idea of this
sort of thing and everybody connected with it is loathsome to me."

He bowed low. It was as well that she could not see his face.

"Countess," he said, "you will excuse my familiarity, but there was a
matter--an urgent matter--which I had yet to mention to you. There is
a man who must die unless he leaves Theos in four-and-twenty hours. I
have heard him called your friend--else he were a dead man at this
moment."

She looked at him doubtfully.

"You do not mean the King?"

"No! I mean Walter Brand, the English journalist."

She started. Domiloff watched her keenly.

"What has he done?" she asked.

"What has he not done. You remember his first appearance here?"

She laughed softly.

"I remember it very well," she answered. "He was bold enough to befool
the wily Baron Domiloff--to play with him and beat him at his own
game. Yes, his first coming I remember very well indeed."

The darkness hid Domiloff's face. His voice was under perfect control.

"I bear him no special grudge for that," Domiloff said, "but it was
only the beginning. He has done his very best to oppose us throughout.
He is the King's most intimate friend, he is our most dangerous enemy.
His letters from here are influencing the whole European Press. In
England they have created a sensation, and in Germany also. They have
been translated into every language, and copied everywhere. The time
has come when they must cease."

She felt the significance of his words. She was not altogether unmoved
under his close scrutiny.

"He is an Englishman," she said, "and it is dangerous to interfere
with Englishmen."

"Nevertheless it must be done," he declared. "To-night it has become a
matter of urgency."

"How so?"

"Because, not content with the mischief which he has already done, he
must needs play the spy upon one or both of us. To-night he was at the
Cafe Metropolitan and overheard some part of my conversation with your
brother."

A sudden colour flushed her cheeks. Her eyes were bright.

"He is a brave man," she cried.

Domiloff shrugged his shoulders.

"The difference between a brave man and a fool," he said, "is so
slight. But listen, Countess! You wish his life spared?"

"If harm comes to him through you or any of your creatures," she
cried, with a little burst of passion, "I will go to the King and have
you hung in the market-place."

There was a moment's silence. Domiloff was staggered by her bold
words.

"Countess," he said, "his safety lies with you. I give you this
opportunity to warn him."

"To warn him? But I do not know where he is," Marie protested.
"Besides, he would not heed me."

"To-morrow," Domiloff answered, "I may be able to acquaint you with
his whereabouts. I must at least have him watched and his dispatches
intercepted. He is absolutely our most dangerous opponent."

"But even if he were to receive a message from me, he would not come
if he were at the front," Marie said.

"He comes every day to Theos to send off his cables," Domiloff
answered. "I shall send you word where he is, and you must send for
him. It is absolutely necessary that he come over to our side."

"He is not the kind of man to desert a losing cause," Marie said. "He
would not listen to me."

Domiloff gave vent to an impatient gesture.

"He must listen to you, Countess, or die," he said.

She looked him in the face.

"You will remember my threat, Baron Domiloff," she said. "Those were
no idle words."

He bowed low.

"We will go to your brother," he said.




CHAPTER XXXVII


The King entered from his ante-chamber and took his place at the head
of the long table amidst a profound and depressing silence. The faces
of his counsellors were grave indeed. The military members were all at
the front. Those who remained were the merchants and men of peace, and
to them the guns whose roar seemed ever increasing spelled ruin.

Old Baron Doxis took the chair. He opened the proceedings with dim
eyes and a shaking voice. Theos was dear to him, but so also were his
sons and nephews, some of whom he could scarcely hope to see again.
The routine business was quickly dispensed with. The King in a few
sentences told them the war news of the day.

Then Baron Doxis rose again.

"Your Majesty," he said, "this meeting of our Inner Council you
yourself have pronounced an wholly informal one. We are sitting here
with closed doors. We are all, I believe, patriots and Thetians. Let
me ask your Majesty, therefore, if every means have been tried to
avoid the destruction which threatens us?"

The faces of all were turned towards the King.

"My friends," he said, slowly, "I have heard it whispered, not amongst
you, perhaps, but yet amongst those who might have known me better,
that this war is the outcome of my own military activity, that it is a
war which might have been prevented. Let me implore you not to give
credit to any such idea. It is a cruel war, an unjust war, and--we
must look the worst in the face. It may mean the extinction of Theos
as an independent nation. But it has been brutally thrust upon us. We
have been powerless to avoid it. We have given no offence, we have
striven for peace, knowing that by peace alone we can prosper. The
pretext for the commencement of hostilities was a false one. An
absolutely faithful account of all that passed between Effenden
Pascha and ourselves has been set down on paper and forwarded to
Constantinople--also to every Court in Europe. I have appealed to
every reigning sovereign for intercession. What is left to us but to
fight? The enemy have crossed our frontier. But for our dispositions
and the bravery of our soldiers they would be even now at the gates of
Theos. If I failed in my duty, tell me where. What could I have done?"

Baron Doxis rose up again.

"Your Majesty," he said, "we do not presume to doubt your word. We
believe in the justice of our cause, and we will believe that these
movements on the part of the Turks are movements of ruthless
aggression. But, bearing in mind our hopeless inferiority in numbers,
I must ask whether any steps have been taken to ascertain the terms on
which peace would be granted to us."

The King's face was set and grave.

"Baron Doxis," he said, "we have not yet approached the
Commander-in-Chief of the Turkish forces on this subject. But I can
tell you well what the answer would be. The surrender of your army,
of our city, the pillaging of our houses, the outraging of our women.
Have you not yet learned how the Turks make war?"

Baron Doxis remained upon his feet. He passed his trembling hand along
his snow-white beard.

"Your Majesty," he said, "these are the days of civilized warfare, and
it is possible that more restraint might be exercised over the Turkish
soldiery now than in the days gone by. I humbly submit that the
demands of the invaders be ascertained and submitted to us."

The King remained silent for a minute. Then he looked up, and though
his lips trembled his voice was firm enough.

"You can send your instructions to General Dartnoff," he said. "I
shall not interfere. At the same time, I feel bound to tell you that I
look upon any such appeal as hopeless. We have no hope, save in God,
in our arms, and from the possible intercession of one or more of the
Powers."

Tavener, a merchant, who was suspected of Jewish descent, rose timidly
to his feet.

"Your Majesty has come to-night from the seat of war," he said. "May
we ask of these rumours concerning the Duke of Reist? It is rumoured
that the Duke has abandoned his command and returned his sword to your
Majesty."

"The rumour is correct," the King answered.

There was an uneasy murmur of voices. Baron Doxis rose.

"Your Majesty, we should esteem some further particulars as to this
action on the part of the Duke of Reist. We have always been
accustomed to consider him one of the born leaders of this country."

"The resignation of the Duke," Ughtred said, "is due to a personal
matter which I am not at liberty to explain to you. No one can regret
it more than I do."

An ominous silence followed. Ughtred was conscious of it, yet there
seemed to be nothing which he could do to dispel it. He knew that the
loyalty of these men was being sorely taxed. In their hearts they
believed him responsible for the war. This severance with Reist
encouraged them in their belief. Baron Doxis rose slowly to his feet.

"Your Majesty," he said, slowly, "as the oldest member of this
council, as the oldest inhabitant of Theos here present, will you
permit me to say a word respecting the Duke of Reist?"

The King inclined his head.

"I am prepared to hear you, Baron Doxis," he said.

"The Duke of Reist," Doxis continued, "is the sole representative of
the one family in Theos who for centuries have served their country
faithfully as true patriots. The Duke of Reist it was who is solely
responsible for the restoration of the monarchy. It was he who found
your Majesty out and brought you here to reign over us."

Ughtred looked up.

"I am conscious," he said, "of all that Nicholas of Reist has done for
Theos. I know, too, what I personally owe him. I believe him at heart
to be a true and devoted patriot. Yet for all this the quarrel
between us is not of my seeking. I cannot go to him and order him into
the field. Seek him yourselves, if you will. He has spoken words to me
which no one, not even the first noble in Christendom, has a right to
use to his sovereign. I pass that over. I demand no apology. Let him
resume his place in the field and his command, if he will. I would not
place my own dignity before the good of Theos. The Assembly is
dismissed, gentlemen."

The King retired to his own apartments. His servant was in waiting.

"Your Majesty has four hours before the time appointed for the special
train," he announced. "The sleeping chamber is prepared."

Ughtred waved him away.

"I shall not retire," he said. "Leave me alone."

He leaned forward in his easy-chair and buried his face in his hands.
Only a month ago life had seemed such a fair thing. He had been full
of plans and dreams. He had envied no man in Europe. And now he seemed
hemmed about with disaster. He was no longer the hero of the people.
He had lost his best friend--between his counsellors and himself an
ominous gulf was widening every hour. There were whispers of treason
in the city, his isolation would soon become an accomplished fact.
Almost his courage failed him.

The door was softly opened and closed. He looked up wearily, then
sprang to his feet. It was Sara who was coming across the room towards
him with outstretched hands.

"Sara."

He took her into his arms, from which she presently escaped, and
carefully disengaged herself. Already he felt better at the sight of
her.

"How did you come here, Sara?" he asked.

"I used your ring," she answered, showing it to him. "Father is in the
next room."

"Your father has been very useful," he said. "He has been out with the
engineer all day."

She laughed.

"He is amusing himself. But, Ughtred, I came to talk to you for a
moment. They tell me that you are going back to the front directly."

"I must be there at daybreak," he answered. "Until then we have
granted them an armistice--to bury their dead."

She nodded.

"I hear all about it. I was in the field-hospital all day, and the
wounded were brought in shouting with joy. It was a great fight,
Ughtred."

An answering gleam flashed in his eyes.

"You should have been a soldier's daughter, Sara."

Her face was suddenly grave. She was standing by his side with her
hands loosely clasped behind her, her eyes upturned to his.

"Ughtred," she said, "I have come here to say something to you. There
have been rumours of a quarrel between you and the Reists. Is that
true?"

"There is something of the sort," he admitted.

"They say that the Duke of Reist has thrown up his command."

"Yes."

"Is it true, Ughtred, that you went through some sort of a betrothal
ceremony with the Countess of Reist?"

He laughed heartily. Then he told her the story. She listened with
grave face.

"You were scarcely to blame," she said, when he had finished. "But,
Ughtred, I have begun to understand what should have been plain to me
from the first--what you too should have thought of, perhaps. Our
engagement would never be welcomed by your people. They love the old
families and the old names. It would make you unpopular, and I believe
it is at the bottom of your disagreement with the Reists. You must
forget what you said, dear. It is best, indeed."

He turned upon her for the moment almost fiercely. He was overwrought.

"You, too!" he exclaimed. "My God, how lonely people can leave a King
when the evil times come."

He saw her look of pain, and the tears fill her eyes. He turned
suddenly and threw his arms about her.

"You love me, Sara. You do not want to take that back?"

"You know that I do not," she answered.

"Then put these things away from you till these troubles are past. At
least let me have you to think of and fight for. Afterwards we will
speak of them again."

She assented gladly.

"Only I want you to know, Ughtred," she said, "that I will never
become your wife if it is to lessen your hold upon your people here.
I wish they could know it. Some of these poor wounded soldiers look at
me as if I were their enemy. Why, it is terrible."

He smiled reassuringly.

"When the war is over we will talk of this seriously," he answered.
"Listen."

He threw up the blind. It was still dark and apparently raining, but
away eastwards there was a break in the clouds, and the stars were
paler. In the courtyard below a carriage was waiting. He dropped the
blind hastily, picked up his cloak.

"I must go, Sara," he declared. "Wish me luck, dear."

She clung to him with suddenly swimming eyes. Her lips trembled--her
face was very wistful.

"Oh, my dear! My dear," she cried, softly, "if only I could bring you
luck. If only I could be your mascotte."

He laughed cheerily. His arms were around her, and she was comforted.

"There is no better mascotte for a man in this world," he declared,
"than the touch of the woman he loves. Send me back to the front,
dear, with your kisses upon my lips and the sound of your voice in my
ears, and I promise you that you shall hear great news."

When Ughtred passed out a few minutes later a rumour went through the
palace that good news had come. For the King held his head high, and
his eyes were as the eyes of a man who goes forth to victory looking
upon pleasant things.




CHAPTER XXXVIII


Throughout the night there was little attempt at sleep in the Thetian
camp. Long lines of men, relieved every two hours that they might work
at the utmost speed, were busy in the valley digging entrenchments.
Guns were being dragged up to the heights and signalling stations
fixed. With dawn came a proclamation from the King freely issued about
the camp.

     "Men of Theos and Soldiers of the Thetian Army.

     "The thanks of the State are due to you for your brave fight
     yesterday, you and your gallant leaders. I am glad to tell
     you that at Althea Pass and Morania the enemy were also
     repulsed with great loss. So far then the fighting has gone
     wholly in our favour. Let us thank God, who has strengthened
     the arm of those whose cause is just, who resist an
     unwarranted and iniquitous invasion of their native land.

     "The precautions which have been taken to guard against this
     act of brigandage encourage us to hope for success. We are
     not taken unawares. Since my accession to the throne of my
     ancestors I have, as you know, devoted every effort to
     strengthening our defences, to preparing so far as
     preparation was possible for the position in which we find
     ourselves to-day. Althea Pass is almost impregnable. I do
     not believe that the Turks will ever pass alive through the
     Moranian defiles. Here it is that the final struggle must
     take place. It is you, my soldiers, who must bear the great
     burden of the fighting. The place of honour is yours, and
     the place of honour may be the place of death. It is meet
     therefore that I, your King, should be with you. I have
     therefore decided to take over the supreme command from your
     valiant and respected leader, General Dartnoff, and to lead
     you personally into battle. With God's help and your valour
     I have every trust and every hope in the future. I need not
     remind you that our cause is just and great. We fight for
     our homes--I for my palace, you for your homesteads--as
     brothers together. We fight for our freedom, for our
     womenkind, and the freedom of those who are to come after
     us. For my part I pledge myself to this. There shall be no
     submission on terms that I will ever accept save those which
     leave Theos as free in the future as it is to-day. For your
     part I ask you only to quit yourselves like the Thetians of
     old, to believe in me and obey, to remember always that God
     is with the weak, and He will surely protect us. Strike
     hard, obey unflinchingly, and if the whispers of treason
     should reach your ears scorn it as did those others who have
     fought before you. Do this, and I will lead you to victory."

At dawn a single horseman, attended by a small escort, galloped down
from the shed where the light railway from Theos ended. General
Dartnoff and a little group of officers stood in front of the former's
quarters.

"It is Reist at last," one exclaimed.

But the General shook his head.

"It is the King," he declared. "See he is riding his own horse."

The old battle-cry rang like music in the King's ears as he galloped
down the lines. He was fair to look upon in the faint early sunlight,
bronzed and manly, a born soldier with a dash of the enthusiast. The
men, fresh from reading his proclamation, welcomed him with thunderous
cheers. Their shouts rose to the skies, and Ughtred breathed more
freely. For these were Reist's men, and it was Reist's place which he
must fill.

"Your Majesty is welcome to the camp," General Dartnoff said,
saluting. "We were looking for the Duke of Reist."

The King passed into the tent, and motioned the General and the other
officers to follow them. Then he turned and faced them.

"General Dartnoff," he said, "I regret to inform you that the Duke of
Reist has resigned his command."

Blank astonishment was written into their faces. The thing was
incredible.

"I beg your Majesty's pardon," General Dartnoff said, with some
hesitation, "but do we indeed hear you rightly? The Duke of Reist has
resigned his command--in time of war--at such a time as this? Nicholas
of Reist!"

"It is unfortunately true," the King repeated.

"He is stricken with illness suddenly?" Dartnoff asked.

The King shook his head.

"I regret to say that the resignation of the Duke of Reist is due to
a personal matter between myself and him, in which he considers
himself aggrieved."

There was a moment's silence. Quick glances were exchanged amongst the
officers. Dartnoff was sorely puzzled.

"It was Nicholas of Reist who brought you here," he said, slowly. "It
was his word and advice--which----"

"Which made me King," Ughtred continued. "That is so. General Dartnoff
and you, gentlemen, do not think that I treat this matter lightly. It
has been a great blow to me--a great shock. But, listen. The Duke of
Reist has no cause of offence against me whatever. He has been
deceived and misled, and I have a fancy that Domiloff, who they say is
still lurking about Theos, is concerned in it."

The General's face grew graver than ever.

"Nicholas of Reist," he said, "would never stoop to secret dealings
with such men as Domiloff."

"I hope and believe not myself," the King answered promptly. "But such
men as Domiloff work in the dark indirectly, and some one has poisoned
the mind of Nicholas of Reist against me. But listen. I repeat that
the matter is a personal one. For the moment it can well be left where
it is. I will promise you this. After the war if Theos still exists
and I am alive I will meet the Duke of Reist before you, General
Dartnoff, and any three of our countrymen whom you may select, and you
shall judge between us. If you find that I am in the wrong my
abdication shall be at your service. If you decide in my favour the
Duke of Reist's apology and his hand will be sufficient for me. But,
remember, that to-day we stand before the destinies of Theos. For
God's sake do not let your loyalty or your faith in me be affected by
this deeply-to-be-deplored incident. To do so would be to play into
the hands of those who have poisoned the mind of the Duke of Reist
against me. Give me your trust a little longer, I beg of you."

General Dartnoff stood in front of his officers, and he did not
hesitate. The cloud had passed from his face.

"Your Majesty," he said. "We accept. Yet with your permission I would
ask you this question. No man in Theos loves his country better than
Nicholas of Reist. If he should desire to recall his words----?"

The King held out his hand.

"I would offer it to him," he said, "as freely as I offer it now to
you."

The cloud passed in substance away. Metterbee--a senior
officer--respectfully intervened.

"Your Majesty," he said, "there is Reist's command."

The King looked around him.

"I am going to make one more demand upon your loyalty," he said
gravely. "General Dartnoff, it is my wish that you take over the
command of the Duke of Reist's corps. The chief command I am prepared
to assume in person."

General Dartnoff smiled.

"If your Majesty makes no more serious demands upon our loyalty than
this he will be well served," he answered. "There is no one more fit
to command than you, sir. The present admirable disposition of our
forces is yours, not mine; so far I have been no more than a
figurehead. Your plan of entrenchments has been a revelation to all of
us."

There arose a little murmur of approval. Reist's defection was
amazing, but this was the man who alone could save Theos. Ughtred felt
a glow of pride and gratitude as he shook hands with his chief
officers.

"And now, General," he said, "I must ask you to transfer your staff to
me in order that I may give some instructions. The Turkish lines are
clearly in view from our positions, I believe?"

The General bowed.

"We have reports every twenty minutes, your Majesty," he answered.
"Anything in the nature of a surprise is impossible."

"Very well," Ughtred said. "Now, General, will you let me have in the
course of half-an-hour an escort of two hundred picked men. I am going
to enter Solika."

Dartnoff dispatched an officer with instructions. Then he turned to
the King.

"Your Majesty is aware of the state of affairs within the walls?"

Ughtred nodded.

"Yes. I want the help of two or three residents of the city whose
loyalty is above suspicion. Can you point out such to me?"

"More than two or three, I think, your Majesty," Dartnoff answered. "I
will give their names to the officer commanding your escort."

Ughtred sat down at the head of the table.

"Let them bring some coffee then at once. In an hour I wish to start
for Solika. The officers of my staff, and you, General Dartnoff, will
please remain."

Breakfast was brought, and Ughtred talked for a few minutes to them
all. He then explained that during the campaign he desired to rank as
General only, to be addressed as sir, to be treated as commanding
officer, and not as King. For the most part the officers were Thetians
and Austro-Thetians. Keen soldiers and well up to their work, for, in
addition to their regular duties, the drilling of the armed population
had also devolved upon them. Ughtred looked them over, and his heart
grew lighter. They were a little rough perhaps, and somewhat uneasy at
first in his presence, but honest men, and soldiers to the backbone.

Towards midday Solika awoke into a state of wild excitement. The King
was at the Town Hall with many of the leading inhabitants, and
extraordinary rumours were flying about. The civil populace was to be
invited to bear arms, foreigners were to be expelled, a great blow was
to be struck at the mixed population, whose loyalty was doubtful. Fact
followed fast upon the heels of rumour. The little street _cafes_ were
thronged with eager groups, all studying a proclamation wet from the
press. The station was thronged with trains. All strangers must quit
Solika in twelve hours. All residents not naturalized must take the
oath of allegiance and hold themselves ready to bear arms, or leave in
twenty-four hours. Property would be respected as far as possible, but
the war laws of Theos had known no modification for five hundred
years, and on every wall appeared copies of the statute, and a
schedule of treasonable practices, the penalty for which was death.
Solika was in an uproar. A hasty but secret meeting of Russians was
held at the house of the Consul. It was broken up by a detachment of
soldiers, and every person there conducted in a guarded train to the
frontier. Ughtred himself rode through the streets, and read in the
faces of the angry crowds their extraction, and where their sympathy
lay. There was scarcely a native Thetian there, for the men of Theos
were excellent farmers and tillers of the land, but poor shopkeepers.
Their wants were supplied by Jews and Russians, who robbed them
regularly, and were only too ready now to welcome the coming of a
richer race. Ughtred returned to the Town Hall, and knew that he had
done well.

On the steps he stopped short. He was face to face with the man whom,
more than any other, at that moment he desired to meet. It was Brand.




CHAPTER XXXIX


"At last," Brand exclaimed, with a gesture of relief. "I have been
looking for you everywhere."

Ughtred glanced round. They were surrounded by a considerable crowd.

"You have something important to say to me, Brand?"

"Yes."

Ughtred motioned to an orderly.

"Procure a fresh horse for Mr. Brand," he said. "You will ride back to
camp with me, Brand. We shall be away from this rabble then."

It was not until they were absolutely alone that Brand spoke.

"Your Majesty," he said, "Nicholas of Reist is a traitor."

The King turned in his saddle.

"I cannot believe that, my friend," he said. "Reist has quarrelled
with me personally, and has resigned his command in the army. But that
does not make him a traitor."

"Perhaps not," Brand answered, drily, "but association with Domiloff
does."

Ughtred started. His face and his tone alike gave evidence of his
unbelief. He even smiled.

"You are mistaken, my dear Brand," he said. "Reist is a patriot and a
nobleman. He would never stoop to league himself with such scum."

"I presume that my eyes are sufficient evidence," Brand answered,
quietly. "I myself saw Reist and Domiloff meet last night at a low
_cafe_ in Theos. I overheard part of their conversation."

The King's face was as the face of a man who has received a blow. For
a moment or two he remained silent.

"They may have met by accident," he said, at last, looking
half-fearfully towards Brand. "Domiloff may have proposed things to
Reist, but he would not listen, no, he surely would not listen."

"You are mistaken," Brand declared, grimly. "He met Domiloff by
appointment, and he listened with interest to all that he had to say."

"How do you know this, Brand?" the King asked.

"I have been watching the place for some time--and Domiloff. It ought
to be burned. It is a hotbed of treason and Russian intrigue. I saw
the meeting and heard part of the conversation. Unfortunately I was
discovered."

"You were discovered?" Ughtred repeated.

"And Domiloff put a bullet through my hat," Brand continued. "I
escaped, but it was a close thing. Since then I have had an
opportunity of appreciating how widespread have been Domiloff's
snares. My life has been attempted twice, and I have been misled by
forged letters as to your whereabouts. I have been to Althea and
Morania in search of you."

"And you heard some part of what passed between Domiloff and Reist?"

"Yes. Domiloff offered Reist the crown of Theos and Russian
intervention in the present war."

"And Russian protection afterwards, I suppose," Ughtred remarked,
bitterly.

"That is, of course, what is behind it all," Brand assented.

The face of the King grew stern and thoughtful. There was silence
between the two men for some time.

"If any other man had told me of this," Ughtred said at last, "frankly
I should not have believed them. It was Nicholas of Reist who was
always warning me of Russia and Russian intrigue. He seemed to read
Domiloff like a book."

"The quarrel which you spoke of between yourself and Reist," Brand
said, thoughtfully--"was it serious?"

"It was forced upon me," Ughtred answered. "The Countess most
unfortunately came to my room last night by the secret passage to warn
me against--well, Brand, I do not see why I should not be frank with
you--against an alliance with Sara Van Decht."

"She came--of her own will--without any suggestion from you?" Brand
asked.

"Of course!" Ughtred answered. "I may not be a model of etiquette,
but I should never dream of soliciting, of welcoming an interview
from even so old a friend as the Countess of Reist under such
circumstances. Well, in the midst of our conversation, which I was
doing my best to curtail, her brother arrived unexpectedly from Solika
and found us together. He chose to consider her presence in my room
compromising, and demanded that I should marry her. After that--chaos.
As I told you, Reist has given up his command and deserted me. I
believe that I have promised to fight him after the war is over."

"And the Countess?" Brand asked.

The King smiled bitterly.

"She too seems to be my enemy, though why I cannot imagine. She, at
any rate, can bear no ill-will to me over that unfortunate affair of
the betrothal cup, for she has told me plainly that she loves another
man."

Brand's horse seemed to stumble, and his face was invisible for a
moment as he stooped down to pat her neck. When he looked up there was
a curious gleam in his eyes.

"Your Majesty," he said, "I am very sorry that this has happened. I
believe that Domiloff is working very hard to induce the Duke of Reist
to join in his plot against you."

The King looked sorrowfully away.

"Nicholas was my one friend here," he said. "I have only my soldiers
now. God grant that their lives may not be frittered away--that we may
not lose by treason what we gain in battle."

They talked for a while of the campaign. Brand, from his brief visit
to Althea and Morania, was already conversant with the plan of
operations. An old war correspondent, the muttering of the guns was
like music to him.

"You should be able to hold your positions for a fortnight," he
declared, "and by that time Theos will be ready for a siege. I see
that you are making preparations for a retreat there."

"The women and children are being sent away every hour," the King
answered. "I know that my men here are staunch, and so far as they are
concerned the Turks will find nothing but a heap of smoking ruins when
they enter Theos. It is not the actual fighting which troubles me,
Brand."

Brand looked into the King's anxious face, and found there some clue
to his doubtful words. He pointed with his riding whip to the distant
city.

"It is treachery which you fear?" he remarked softly.

Ughtred nodded.

"I will tell you," he said, "there is something going on there which I
cannot understand. It is Domiloff's work. I am sure of that. At the
meeting of the Council last night I seemed to be somehow conscious of
a general atmosphere of intrigue. There is something going on behind
my back. Doxis plainly hinted that it would be better to make terms
than waste the whole country by an impossible resistance, and when I
asked him 'terms with whom?' he was silent. We know that the Turks
have no terms to offer save unconditional surrender. What did he mean,
then?"

"I fear," Brand said, "that Domiloff's schemes are more deeply laid
than we at first believed. What a pity that he was ever allowed to
remain in Theos."

"I sent him to the frontier once," Ughtred said. "He came back
secretly."

"But your police?"

"Theos has no police now," Ughtred answered. "They are fighting at
Althea. We could not afford to leave a hundred able-bodied men in the
city."

Brand reined in his horse. The two men were on a hill from which the
outposts of the Turkish army were distinctly visible. Brand took out
his glasses and swept the country steadily for several minutes.

"I have a proposition to make," he said, after he had finished his
survey. "I do not think that there will be any fighting to-day. If you
like I will return to Theos and endeavour to find out what is going
on."

The King held out his hand.

"If you will do this for me," he said, simply, "it will be the service
of a friend. I think that I need friends now very badly."

So Brand turned his horse's head towards Theos, and the King rode down
into the camp alone.




CHAPTER XL


"You!"

Marie of Reist rose with a sudden swift movement from the sofa where
she had been lying.

"I trust that my visit is not as unwelcome as it seems to be
surprising," he remarked, crossing the room towards her. "I am taking
advantage----"

She held up her hand--a quick, impulsive gesture of silence.

"Hush!" she whispered. "Do not say another word. Follow me and tread
lightly."

He followed her into the circular stone wall, hung with ancient
paintings, and where no light ever came save through those wonderful
stained glass windows, the gift of an Emperor to Rudolph of Tyrnaus.
They passed along a passage, up some stairs, and into a sitting-room.
She closed the door softly, and stood for a moment with her hand still
upon the handle, listening. Then, as all seemed quiet below, the fear
passed from her eyes, and she smiled upon him.

"Are you mad to come here?" she asked, softly. "You ought not to show
yourself in the streets. Do you not know that you are the most
unpopular person in Theos?"

"I can assure you that I was not aware of it," he answered. "In any
case, who in this house would be likely to wish me harm?"

"You are quite safe here, I think," she answered, ignoring his
question. "My brother and some friends were in the next room
down-stairs. I was afraid that they might hear your voice."

He sat down on the sofa beside her.

"I am not inclined," he said, "to quarrel with my good fortune. But as
a matter of fact, it is your brother whom I wish to see. There is no
reason why I should not--that I know of."

She shook her head.

"Nevertheless," she said, "be content to stay with me. It will be
better for you. Oh yes, a very great deal better."

Brand moved a little nearer. It was certain that there was much which
he could learn from her.

"It is very pleasant to see you again, Countess!" he remarked.

She shrugged her shoulders.

"Countess?"

The colour flushed under his tanned cheeks. He looked away.

"Marie, then--if you will permit!"

"I do permit," she murmured, "only you must not say it very
often--until I get used to it. Oh, my friend, how glad I am to see
you, and yet how dangerous it is. Why do you go on filling all the
newspapers in Europe with your letters from Theos, and your praises of
the King? You have made enemies here. You are even now being sought
for."

He smiled grimly.

"I thought that I must be becoming unpopular," he said. "People are
so anxious to find me that they send bullets--mostly very badly aimed
ones--after me in the street. I do not understand it."

She shuddered and glanced nervously around her. The window by which
they sat was commanded by another in the eastward wing of the house.
She looked at it for a moment, and her eyes were full of fear once
more.

"Even now," she murmured, "I believe that we are being watched. Look,
do you see anything?"

He stood by her side, but the window was empty enough. Below, the
square and streets beyond were strangely empty. A sense of desolation
brooded over the place.

"I see nothing," he answered. "I really don't think that we need alarm
ourselves."

She drew him away to the lounge heaped with furs and drawn up to the
fire. An easel was standing in one corner of the room, and behind a
piano. The walls were hung with water-colours and sketches, and the
air was fragrant with the odour of burning logs. Beyond was an inner
apartment.

"You are the first man, except Nicholas my brother," she said, "who
has ever been in here. Remember that, please, and be very obedient.
You will do all that I tell you. Will you promise?"

"Blindly," he answered, "if you will ask me nothing impossible."

"I shall not do that. I am going to ask you something for your own
good. You must leave off writing those letters to the English
newspapers."

He was suddenly very quiet and still. But he turned and looked at her.

"Why?"

"Because it is for your safety, for the good of Theos, and because it
is my wish."

"Your wish--and whose else?"

"My brother's."

There was a moment's silence. She saw signs of a new sternness about
the closely-drawn lips, the steel-grey eyes, from which a momentary
tenderness seemed to have vanished.

"It is true, then, what I hear," he said, slowly. "Your brother has
deserted the King?"

The change in her mood matched his. She drew herself up and looked at
him with flashing eyes and uplifted head.

"My brother will not continue his allegiance to a sovereign who
proposes to raise a tradesman's daughter to the throne of Theos, and
who has offered an insult to our family."

"I am sorry to hear you talk like this," he answered. "The King has
not willingly affronted you. It was your brother to whom he owes his
throne. He has not forgotten it--he is never likely to forget it. He
regarded you both as his best friends here. As for Sara Van Decht, the
King would take no step without the sanction and consent of his
people. She will be one of the richest women in Europe, and the whole
of her dowry would be spent for the good of Theos. Even then if the
voice of the people were against it the King would yield. The one aim
of his life is the welfare of Theos and her people."

"So far in his care of them," she said, scornfully, "he has met with
but little success. When before have the Turks crossed the frontier of
our territory? When before have we been in such grievous straits as
these?"

"For these things," he answered, "the King is blameless. This invasion
of Theos is a long planned undertaking. Nothing could have stopped it.
I believe that no other man in the world would have met the situation
with so much skill and so resourcefully."

She was silent for a moment. Her very calmness seemed ominous. It
seemed to him that underneath she was trembling with passion.

"Marie," he said, "I wonder that you are so blinded by this senseless
prejudice against the King. But leave him for the moment out of the
question. You love your country. For centuries the name of your family
has been a great one in the history of Theos. Yet to-day both you and
your brother are making a terrible mistake. You are drifting towards
her enemies."

"Enough!" she cried. "I can see that you are still for the King."

"Most surely," he answered.

"You will not discontinue those letters?"

"No!"

She pointed to the door.

"Find your way out--if you can," she ordered, furiously. "I do not
care what becomes of you. Only leave me!"

He took a quick step towards her, and grasped her wrists.

"Marie," he said, with a sudden hoarse passion, "you can send me out
to be shot if you like, but you shall kiss me first."

Her anger passed away like magic. Her slender arms drew his face down
to hers. Her eyes were soft with tears.

"Dear," she murmured, "you shall not leave me like this. I thought
that you had come here to join us--because you knew that I wanted you.
And you speak only of the King as your friend--who is our enemy. Will
you not be reasonable? There are brighter days in store for Theos.
Stay with us and share them."

He shook his head sadly.

"You are being deceived," he said. "There is only one man who can
save this country, and that man is Ughtred of Tyrnaus. He is
honest--Domiloff is a rogue. These schemes of his have but one
possible ending, and that is slavery for Theos--the total loss of her
independence. Oh, it is all so plain, Marie--Domiloff's wiles are so
transparent. Let me see your brother and reconcile him to the King."

"It is too late," she answered. "It is impossible."

"I have come here with a message from the King to him," he declared.
"I must at least deliver it."

Her eyes gleamed with passion. Suddenly she threw her arms around his
neck.

"You are very foolish, and I don't know why I should care for you,"
she cried, "but I do, I do! Listen. This is not your country. You are
not a Thetian subject; the King has no claim upon you. If you will not
help us, go away until it is all over. You can easily do that. Go away
and wait. I will send for you when it is all over. You will see then
that I was right. No! you must not kiss me any more, dear. You must do
as I say. Listen!"

She sprang away from him. There were footsteps in the corridor
outside. Her face was ashen, a look of terror flashed in her eyes.

"They have found you out," she cried. "It is Domiloff and his men.
Heaven help us!"




CHAPTER XLI


But, after all, it was only Nicholas of Reist who entered. He closed
the door behind him carefully, and approached them. Brand stepped
forward.

"I have a message for you," he said.

Reist smiled.

"A message which it seems you found necessary to deliver to my
sister," he remarked. "I have not been informed of your desire to see
me."

"I should not have left the house without doing so," Brand answered.
"My message is from the King."

"Proceed."

Reist stood motionless before the window. In the clear daylight the
physical change in the man was painful enough to witness. The flesh
had fallen away from his cheeks, leaving great hollows underneath his
eyes. His forehead was furrowed with lines, his pallor was unnatural
and unwholesome. Brand saw these things, and wondered more than ever
how the defection of such a man could have been brought about.

"The King bade me seek you out and remind you that in all human
probability before to-morrow's sun has set the great battle will have
been fought. The Turks are concentrating before Solika, and it is
there that we shall fight. Your men are asking for you. At such a
crisis in the history of your country the King does not believe that
you will be content to sit in idleness. He bids you come, and
afterwards seek for redress, if any is needed, in the matters which
rest between you and him."

"I thank you," Reist said, slowly. "To the King I return no answer to
his message. To you I say this. I have lost confidence in Ughtred of
Tyrnaus. I regret that my hand ever raised him to the throne. I
recognize him no longer as the ruler of this country."

"Then you are a rebel?" Brand exclaimed. "Is that what you mean?"

Reist's dark eyes were lit with fire.

"Be careful, sir," he said, fiercely. "Those are not the words to be
used to a Duke of Reist. By inheritance and by virtue of my name I,
too, am the guardian of these people of Theos. I have lived with them
all my life, as did my fathers and my grandfathers before me. Their
freedom and their happiness are a solemn charge to me. I have come to
the conclusion that Ughtred of Tyrnaus is not able to maintain for
them either."

"Then who is?" Brand asked. "This war is none of his seeking. How in
God's name could he do more for Theos than stand at the head of her
people with drawn sword, prepared to die rather than submit to this
barbarous invasion? Is there higher patriotism than this?"

"The King is your friend," Reist answered, "and you judge him from
your own standpoint. Yet I am willing to admit that he is a brave man.
Few cowards have ever sprung from Thetian stock. But bravery is not
everything, and in the present case it can avail him nothing. The
odds are too overwhelming. If Theos is to be saved it will not be at
the point of the sword."

Brand was within an ace of losing his temper. His cheeks were flushed
and his voice was not so steady as usual.

"Theos will never be saved by those who plot with such rogues as
Domiloff behind the city walls," he exclaimed. "Duke of Reist, I know
you to be a brave man, or I would not dare to use these words to you.
You are being grossly deceived. The Turks, and now you, are the
catspaw of Russia. Domiloff's mission is to secure Theos for a Russian
state. Oh, can't you see through his miserable scheming? I am an
outsider in the game. Perhaps for that reason I am the better judge--I
see the clearer. It is so simple! There will be a supposed rising of
the people. You, or another of Domiloff's puppets, will be set up as
King or Protector. The hand of Turkey will be stayed I grant you, but
at the cost of an indemnity which you will never be able to pay. There
will be a Russian loan, secured upon the customs and the receipts of
the country. Every link in the chain of bondage is as clear as day.
Russians will stream over your frontiers and settle in your cities.
Everywhere Theos will have to give way to the new influence. In ten
years at the most the thing will be complete. Theos will become a
second Poland. Duke of Reist, you are at heart a patriot and a brave
soldier, but you are no match for Domiloff in what he would call his
modern diplomacy. Arrest him. His presence in the city is illegal. You
have every justification. Out to the camp and take your place by the
King's side. I know something of war, and I know that your cause is
far from hopeless. At least you can hold the Turks in check, and I
tell you that intervention is no longer a dream. England is at this
moment hesitating, and if she moves Germany will stand by her. Don't
make the mistake of your life. Take down your sword, order your horses
and ride with me to Solika."

It was obvious that Reist was moved. A spot of colour burned in his
cheeks, and he glanced for a moment at his sister as though for
guidance. She too was agitated. Brand turned to her.

"Countess," he exclaimed, "will you not add your words to mine? I come
here as your friend. The King is guiltless of all offence towards you.
Plead with your brother. Beg him to ride with me to the King."

She laid her hand softly upon his.

"My friend," she said, "you have spoken like a brave man and an honest
man, and both my brother and I respect you very much for it. But you
are a stranger here, and we are Thetians. We know our country and her
needs better than you. We do not believe that Ughtred of Tyrnaus is
the man to save her. He is too, what you call in the west, democratic
for an ancient kingdom. The heart of the people is not with him. As
for Domiloff, we do not trust wholly to him. We are not quite so blind
as you would have us believe. Yet we need friends--and, believe me--we
shall know how to reward them. Stay here with us, Mr. Brand. We will
try to treat you so that you shall never regret it."

The upward glance of her dark eyes was eloquent enough, but Brand only
shook his head.

"I am for the King," he said.

"And I," the Duke of Reist said, with a sudden vehemence, "am for my
country. Mr. Brand, you are answered. You have my permission to repeat
the whole of our conversation to the King. Now as to yourself. You are
a brave man, and I do not care to see harm come to such. Leave this
house at once. Marie will show you an exit from this side. You are in
danger from which even I am powerless to protect you."

"I thank you," Brand answered, taking up his hat. "Your friend
Domiloff is, I suppose, still anxious as to my whereabouts. And in all
probability--here he is."




CHAPTER XLII


There was a sharp tap at the door. Marie and her brother exchanged
quick glances. Brand stepped forward, but Marie waved him back.

"Who is there?" she called out.

"It is I, Baron Domiloff," was the suave answer. "I regret very much
to intrude, but I have urgent business with your friend Mr. Brand. Can
I come in?"

She hesitated. After all, any attempt to keep him out must be futile.

"You can come in," she answered.

The door opened, and Domiloff entered. He bowed low before the
Countess, but there was an evil smile upon his lips when his eyes met
Brand's.

"This is a very fortunate meeting, Mr. Brand," he declared. "It saves
us the trouble of searching for you. Only an hour ago, my dear sir,
the Countess and I were speaking of you."

"So far as the Countess was concerned," Brand answered, dryly, "I am
honoured."

Domiloff shrugged his shoulders. He turned to Nicholas with a smile
which was meant to be good-humoured.

"Mr. Brand imagines perhaps that I bear him some ill-will for that
previous little _rencontre_ between us, in which, by the bye, I must
admit that I had very much the worst of it. I can assure him most
sincerely that it is not so."

Brand shrugged his shoulders.

"We have met since then, Baron Domiloff, I think," he said, "and even
you must admit that a revolver bullet through one's hat is scarcely a
message of good will."

Domiloff was bewildered. Was this a joke, or was his friend--his very
good friend, Mr. Walter Brand--under some hallucination? Brand turned
from him impatiently.

"The matter is not one which will repay discussion," he said.
"Countess, I regret that I must offer you my adieux."

Domiloff held up his hand.

"One moment," he said, persuasively. "We are all three here together
now, and the opportunity is too excellent to be lost. The Duke of
Reist, the Countess, and I have something in common to say to you. You
will spare us a few moments--and your best attention, my dear Mr.
Brand."

"By all means," Brand answered. "'Something in common' to say to me
sounds interesting. I am at your service."

"It concerns the daily letters which you cable from here to London on
behalf of the newspaper to which you are attached," Domiloff said,
slowly.

"Indeed," Brand answered. "I am flattered that you should have
troubled to read them."

"From a literary point of view," Domiloff admitted, "they are
admirable. Politically I regret to say that we find them mischievous."

Brand laughed scornfully.

"Perhaps you are not altogether an impartial judge," he remarked.
"Will you proceed, please?"

"Those letters, I am afraid, must be discontinued," Domiloff said.

Brand stared at him.

"Don't talk rubbish," he exclaimed. "'Must be discontinued,' indeed!
Why, I consider your objection to them the highest compliment which I
could possibly receive. As if anything which you could say would make
me alter my views."

Domiloff smiled. It was a very faint, but a very evil smile.

"It is not," he protested, "what I might say, but what I might do. I
take it for granted that either the Duke of Reist or the Countess has
spoken with you on this matter, and I will not therefore waste my
breath. It is sufficient to tell you this! Your present attitude is
harmful to what we consider the best interests of Theos. You must
either undertake to send no more cables or remain here as our
prisoner."

Brand glanced towards the Countess, and in his eyes there was a
merciless inquisitive light.

"So I am in a nest of conspirators," he remarked, dryly. "There is no
longer any doubt about it. I do not know, Baron Domiloff, what magic
you use to pervert honest men, but your success is certainly
astounding. Now let me pass."

With a quick movement his revolver flashed out, and Domiloff was
covered. Perfectly self-possessed, the Russian bowed, and stood away
from the door, but Brand reached it only to be confronted by
half-a-dozen naked sabres. The landing was held by a small company of
Russian soldiers.

"For the protection of the Russian Embassy," Baron Domiloff remarked,
sardonically. "Now, Mr. Brand, will you put your revolver away, and
listen to reason?"

Brand turned to Marie. He was white with rage.

"Countess," he demanded. "I entered this room at your invitation. Was
this arranged for? Is this a trap of your setting?"

A little cry of pain broke from her lips. She recovered herself almost
immediately.

"Did I know," she asked, "that you were coming?"

He was silent. In his heart he had already absolved her.

"Countess," he said, "forgive me. I spoke hastily. Duke of Reist, I
appeal to you. This is your house, and I entered it openly and upon a
legitimate errand. I remained here as your guest. I demand a safe
conduct from it. Order that man to remove his soldiers."

Marie stepped forward.

"Nicholas," she cried, "he is right. We cannot have the Reist house
turned into a nest of brigands. Baron Domiloff, these are my
apartments. Your presence is an intrusion which I do not choose to
tolerate. Be so good as to withdraw and take your men with you."

"My dear lady," he declared, "it is impossible."

A fierce answer trembled upon Marie's lips, but Nicholas held out his
hand.

"Silence, Marie," he said. "Mr. Brand has made an appeal which it is
very difficult for me to ignore. He is under my roof, and to some
extent he is entitled to my protection. But there are limits to the
obligations even of hospitality. There have been things spoken of in
his presence which must not be repeated."

"The safety and welfare of Theos," Domiloff said, solemnly, "must
eclipse all other considerations. Mr. Brand came here of his own
accord."

Reist turned to Brand.

"Are you prepared," he said, "to keep silence as to all that has
transpired since you crossed the threshold of this house? I will be
content with your word of honour."

"No!" Brand answered, firmly. "I cannot make any such promise."

Marie turned upon them both with flaming cheeks.

"Let the King know all," she cried. "What does it matter now? This is
my house, as well as yours, Nicholas, and I say that Mr. Brand shall
leave it when and how he pleases. Baron Domiloff, I order you to
withdraw, and take your soldiers with you."

But Domiloff only shook his head.

"Countess," he said, "for your brother's sake and the sake of Theos I
cannot do as you ask. This man's silence for a few days at least is
the one thing necessary to secure our success."

"Then my silence will be the silence of death," Brand answered,
fiercely. "If you will not let me pass peaceably, I shall fight my way
as far as I am able. Stand away, Domiloff. You cursed spy."

Marie sprang between them. She pushed Brand back.

"Nicholas," she said, "this is not your affair. It is between Baron
Domiloff and myself. You recognize that?"

"Entirely!" he answered.

"Then will you leave it in my hands?" she begged.

He hesitated for a moment, but a glance into her face reassured him.

"I am content," he said, and left them.

She turned to Domiloff.

"Baron," she said, "if you do not let Mr. Brand pass unhurt our
compact is at an end."

He held up his hands in eager expostulation.

"I wish your friend no harm, Countess," he declared, "but believe me,
his reports are doing us every possible injury. Besides, he will carry
word of this to the King. It is impossible to let him go. I will
withdraw my men if you like, while you reason with him. It is his
silence only we require."

She turned to Brand.

"You hear?"

He nodded.

"My silence," he answered, "is not to be bought. The King is my
friend, and his cause is mine. Apart from that it is my duty as an
honest man to upset the scheming of such rogues as that," he pointed
to Domiloff. "In two minutes, Countess, I shall leave this room--dead
or alive."

Domiloff was very pale, but he remained calm. Marie left him and
placed her hands in Brand's. She looked up into his face fondly.

"You are quite right," she said. "I honour you for your words."

Then she turned to Domiloff.

"Listen," she said. "You will permit Mr. Brand to pass uninjured, or I
shall go at once to Nicholas, and tell him not only all that I know,
but what I suspect. You understand me! I shall tell him--the whole
truth. I go also to the King, and I tell him--the whole truth. I go
also to the House of Laws, I anticipate your proclamation to them, and
I announce--the whole truth. These are not empty threats. I swear to
you that I will do these things."

Domiloff regarded her thoughtfully. His expression was inscrutable.

"You will not risk the success of all our plans," he said, slowly.
"You will even sacrifice your country that this man may go safely. You
are serious? It is in your mind that you are the Countess Marie of
Reist, and he--the paid writer in an English newspaper. Forgive me
that I speak of this. It is incredible."

"It is nevertheless true," she answered, firmly. "Your answer."

He bowed low.

"Mr. Walter Brand," he said, "is fortunate. He is welcome to depart."

"Wait!"

She crossed the room, and from a cedar box on the mantelshelf drew out
a small shining revolver. She stood facing Domiloff.

"My friend," she said, "so I shall remain until Mr. Brand has left the
house and waves to me from the street below. And if there is treachery
I give you my word that I shall fire. You have seen me use a
revolver. You know that this is not play with me."

"Mr. Brand," he repeated, "is fortunate indeed."




CHAPTER XLIII


Once more the beacons flared in a long, lurid line from the
mountain-tops, rockets screamed into the night, and away from south of
Solika came the heavy roll of guns plainly to be heard in the anxious
city. Rumours were plentiful. The Turks were already streaming through
the passes! A great battle was on hand! Solika had fallen! The streets
and squares of Theos were filled with an excited and restless mob,
mostly composed of old men, children, and women, with a sprinkling of
foreigners. The outdoor _cafes_ were filled, people stood about in
little knots together, talking eagerly. Up at the railway station a
constant stream of refugees waited patiently for trains to take them
northwards.

There were no trams running, or carriages. The Government had
subsidized the horses, and most of the men had gone to the front.
All night long gangs of navvies in squads were working at the
fortifications by searchlight. From all the country places stores
were pouring in.

Towards morning the roar of distant artillery increased, and those who
listened keenly fancied that they could hear the sharper rattle of
Maxims and machine-guns. Trains began to crawl in from the front full
of wounded. From them something of the truth was gathered. The King
had made a forced march, himself had crossed the frontier, and
fiercely attacked the Turkish army. So far all had gone well. The
Turks were falling back, and had already lost two guns.

In the grey dawn Sara hastened to the hospital, which was already
almost full. The regular nurses were out at the front, and their
places were mostly taken by volunteers--the suggestion having come
from Sara herself. Everywhere the news was being eagerly discussed.
Solika was being turned into a military base. At Althea the position
had been so strengthened as to be now impregnable. The King was the
idol of his army, and the military fever burned fiercely.

At midday, news! A telegram from Solika announced that the King was
returning across the frontier, having completely scattered the Turkish
army, inflicted great loss upon them, and captured four guns. The Town
Master caused a copy of the telegram to be posted in the market-place,
and the bells of the Cathedral were rung. Later on it was whispered
about that the victory had come very near being turned into total and
irredeemable disaster. For the Thetians, chasing the flying Turks
through a difficult country, were suddenly met by an unexpected rally,
and stretching on both sides of them like a gigantic crescent was a
great army of reinforcements. With great skill Ughtred had extricated
his army, and regained the shelter of Solika. But the joy of their
victory was damped. The enemy were in strength which seemed absolutely
overwhelming.

Towards afternoon there came shouts from the railway station. Through
the crowd, which gave him clear passage, cheering vigorously, Ughtred
was driven towards the palace. He looked pale and dishevelled, and
his uniform showed that he had not been an idle spectator of the
fighting. He waved his hand affectionately to the crowd, but was
clearly preoccupied. At the palace he sent for his State Secretary and
Mr. Thexis, the leader of the Government party in the House of Laws.
An informal Council meeting was summoned, and hastily attended by the
leading members of the House.

       *       *       *       *       *

An hour afterwards Sara was summoned from the midst of her work at the
hospital by an urgent note. At the Villa she found Ughtred waiting for
her.

"You," she cried, softly. "How dare you fetch me away from my work?"

Then, as a clearer impression of his appearance came to her, standing
in the white noonday sunshine, she became anxious.

"You are not hurt?" she cried. "Nothing has gone amiss?"

He tightened his clasp upon her hands.

"Hurt, no! I took too great care of myself. We have won our first
battle, too, Sara. My men fought splendidly."

She nodded.

"At the hospital," she said, "even the badly wounded are full of
enthusiasm. Tell me! You have more news, have you not?"

He nodded.

"We crossed the border in pursuit," he said, "and we saw with our own
eyes what the scouts who are coming in continually report. The whole
of the Turkish army has been mobilized, and is being massed upon our
borders. That is to say, two hundred thousand of the finest soldiers
in the world are almost at our gates. All told, we number sixteen
thousand."

The tears stood in her eyes. She pressed his hands silently.

"I'm afraid I don't understand these things," she said, "but an
unprovoked attack like this seems like a return to ancient history. It
is barbarous. Can you not appeal to the Powers?"

"That I have done," he answered, sadly, "but you must remember that
this is the fruit of Russia's intrigue. Turkey is only a catspaw. She
holds France, of course, and the eternal policy of Germany is to keep
friends with Russia. There is only England."

"England," she cried, hopefully. "Why you are half English yourself.
England will surely interfere."

"It is a great deal to ask," he answered, seriously. "My friendship
can be of little account to her, and it is asking her to risk a war
for the sake of an abstract principle. Diplomatically, England would
be very unwise to interfere. As a great and generous country I have
appealed to her. But, Sara, I have little hope."

"And if she does not?"

"If she does not I shall put the issue plainly before my people. If
they prefer a glorious death to serfdom, I too, being of their mind,
shall fight till this war becomes a massacre."

She smiled at him bravely.

"Europe will never permit it, dear," she said. "It would be too
terrible. See, I have faith in your destiny--and my luck. I am not
even afraid."

The courtyard rang with the sound of hoofs. A messenger from the
telegraph corps entered at the King's summons.

"Your Majesty," he announced, "I have to announce that an hour ago a
trainload of Cossacks, numbering about five hundred, arrived at the
frontier and demanded permission to continue their journey to Theos.
Captain Operman, in accordance with your instructions, demanded their
passport. They had none to give, but their colonel produced papers
which contained their route to Theos for the protection of the Russian
Embassy there. In further accordance with your Majesty's instructions,
Captain Operman then replied that Theos was in a perfectly peaceful
state, and the Russian Embassy was amply protected by its flag from
both belligerents. The colonel in command of the Cossacks replied that
his orders were absolute to proceed to Theos, and he had no
alternative but to obey them. Captain Operman replied that his orders
too were absolute, and he could not permit an armed body of men to
cross the frontier. In reply to this the Russians were ordered to at
once entrain. Captain Operman once more protested, and announced,
according to your Majesty's instructions, that any further advance on
the part of the Cossacks would constitute an invasion and be
recognized as an act of war. There being no reply to this, your
Majesty's instructions were successfully carried out to the letter."

"Tell me exactly what happened," Ughtred asked.

"The whole of the rolling-stock available was blown up and the railway
line destroyed beyond the possibility of immediate repair at a dozen
places. I regret to add that several of the Cossacks were slightly
injured by the explosion."

"And is there any message from Captain Operman with reference to
horses?" Ughtred asked.

"In this direction also," the messenger replied, "your Majesty's
instructions have been carefully carried out. The country has been
absolutely denuded of horses. It will be impossible for the Russians
to obtain more than a dozen at the outside."

"Captain Operman has carried out my instructions faithfully and well,"
Ughtred replied.

The messenger bowed.

"I was further desired to report, your Majesty," he added, "that word
has just arrived that a series of explosions have occurred at
different points along the line on the other side of the frontier.
Captain Operman makes no report to your Majesty concerning these, but
he desires me to say that their effect will be to <DW44> all
communication with Russia for several days at least."

The King smiled.

"I am well served indeed," he said. "What has become of the Cossacks?"

"They are quartered at the station buildings, your Majesty. There is
no stock of provisions whatever in the vicinity, and in case they
should attempt to march to Theos all the farms _en route_ have been
warned to remove their cattle and stores."

"You will present my compliments and thanks to Captain Operman," the
King said, "and you will congratulate him on the success and spirit
with which he has carried out my orders. Further, you will request him
to report himself to me at headquarters at the earliest possible
opportunity."

The messenger bowed and withdrew. Ughtred rose and paced the room
thoughtfully.

"I expected this move of Domiloff's," he said, looking towards Sara.
"You see Theos itself is in a queer state. Every honest man who can
bear arms is at the front. There remain in the city only a horde of
Russian Jews, who I suspect have been drafted in a few at a time, and
are only waiting a signal from Domiloff to begin rioting."

He touched a bell.

"Let me speak to Mr. Ruttens," he ordered. "He was in the ante-room a
few minutes ago."

"What are you going to do?" Sara asked.

"I am going to try and arrest Domiloff," he answered. "I fear that it
is quite useless, but an attempt must be made. There will be some
mischief before long if he is left alone."

Sara rose up and came to his side.

"There are other traitors in the city besides Domiloff," she said, "if
what they are saying is true."

A deeper shadow fell upon the King's face.

"You mean the Reists?"

"It is common report."

"Nicholas of Reist has withdrawn his allegiance to me," Ughtred said.
"Yet I do not believe that he would be concerned in anything
absolutely traitorous. As for the Countess--I fear that I have
incurred her ill-will. She is friendly too, they say, with Domiloff. I
cannot see though what mischief she can do. Ruttens," he added,
turning towards the door, "are there sufficient police left in Theos
to effect the arrest of one man?"

Ruttens, grey-bearded, long since a pensioner, saluted the King
respectfully.

"Your Majesty," he answered, "it depends upon the man."

"The man is Baron Domiloff!"

Ruttens shook his head.

"Your Majesty," he said, "we can make the attempt. Yesterday it would
have been possible enough. But last night half the veterans and
weaklings who have been enrolled as special police deserted."

"Deserted!" the King exclaimed, frowning.

Ruttens smiled.

"Deserted in order to make their way to the front, your Majesty. Old
Kennestoff, who is eighty years old, got out his rifle and went, and a
dozen more well nigh his age. I myself----"

He hesitated. The King's face had cleared.

"You had my orders, Ruttens, and my special commission. A few good men
we must have in Theos."

"There are rascals enough, your Majesty," Ruttens said, with grave
face. "There are a good many aliens, too, whose presence here I cannot
understand. They pay their way, and hang round the squares in little
groups, always whispering to themselves. They call themselves farmers
and shopkeepers from the frontier, but there is little of the Thetian
in their faces to my mind. The city were healthier cleared of them,
your Majesty."

The King smiled bitterly.

"But how, my good Ruttens?" he exclaimed. "You and your few veterans
would be powerless against them."

Ruttens sighed.

"It is true, your Majesty," he answered. "To be frank, I have put them
down in my mind as creatures of Domiloff. And though to-day I will
endeavour to effect his arrest I fear very much that he is well
guarded against anything of the sort."

Once more the courtyard rang with the clatter of hoofs. There was
commotion below and in the palace.

"It is word from the front," the King cried.

The messenger stood before him.

"Your Majesty," he announced, "General Dartnoff has telegraphed that
he is engaged. He adds that there seems to be some extensive movement
preparing."

Ughtred tore himself away. Sara choked back a sob, and held out both
her hands. At the moment of parting they were alone.

"Good-bye, dear," she whispered. "Do your best and have faith. I am
not afraid for you or for Theos."

He kissed her and galloped away, followed by his few attendants. Her
cheerfulness was inspiring. His heart swelled with pride at the
thought of her. She had destroyed forever his lingering superstition
as to the obligations of race--she a daughter of the democracy with
the heart and courage of a queen. Ughtred had passed through his one
hour of weakness. As the engine with its one solitary carriage tore
across the plain to Solika a new and finer hopefulness was born in
him. Her words and her steadfast optimism had fired his blood. He
would fight his country's enemy so that for very shame Europe should
cry "Hold!"




CHAPTER XLIV


In his room, with heavy curtains closely drawn across the barred
windows to keep from his ears the distant mutterings of the guns,
Nicholas of Reist sat in torment. From below in the square he had
heard the people's farewell to the King as he had hastened back to the
scene of action--the echoes of the city's varying moods floated up to
him from hour to hour. And whilst all was activity, ceaseless,
restless, he alone of the men of Theos sat idle, his hands before him,
waiting for he knew not what. It was indeed torment. The blood of his
fighting forefathers was burning in his veins. To linger here in
miserable inaction whilst the war music throbbed in his ears was like
torture to him. Even Domiloff had found it best for the last few days
to leave him alone. Besides, Domiloff was busy.

In a small room at the back of the house the Russian was receiving a
visitor. Before the door were half-a-dozen soldiers, and the bolts
were closely drawn. Yet even then the conversation between the two men
was tense and nervous.

"To have ventured here yourself," Domiloff said, drawing the shade
more closely over the lamp, "seems to me, my dear Hassen, a little
like bravado. You hold the wits of this people a little too cheaply. I
am not yet strong enough to protect you. If you are recognized you
will be shot at sight."

"One runs risks always," the other answered carelessly, "and besides
it is your fault that I am here. Your inaction is unaccountable. There
has been no message from you for three days. I am afraid that you are
bungling matters."

"And you--what of you?" the other answered, hotly. "What were your men
doing at Solika to be driven back by a handful of half-trained
farmers? I expected the Turks at Theos to-day, and all would have been
well. Yet with eighty thousand men you do nothing. You too who have
boasted of your soldiers and your artillery as the equal of any in
Europe."

The visitor shrugged his shoulders.

"Domiloff," he said, "you are irritated and nervous. Be careful what
you say. I admit that so far we have been checked, but it is not sense
to talk of half-trained farmers. Ughtred of Tyrnaus is a fine soldier.
Mind, I was with him in Egypt, and he had a sound training there. His
dispositions against attack are excellent. He has evidently been
thinking them out since first he came here. Then you told us that he
had no modern artillery at all."

"He had not, then," Domiloff answered. "These batteries were a present
from a rich fool of an American or his daughter."

"The fair Sara Van Decht! I heard that she was here."

"You know her?"

"She visited at Colonel Erlito's in London," Hassen answered. "So did
I. But that is of no consequence. You very well know that we relied
upon your help to finish this campaign quickly. So far you have done
nothing. Perhaps you do not understand the reason for haste. Let me
tell you this. Even now the message is before the Sultan waiting for
his signature which will recall the troops and bring the invasion to
an end."

"Gorteneff is in Constantinople himself," Domiloff answered. "He will
not allow it to be signed."

"Gorteneff! So is Sir Henry White in Constantinople. You seem to
forget that."

Domiloff's face was black.

"White! The Englishman! Bah! You will not tell me that your master
fears the English any more. Their day is over. They have no longer a
place amongst the Powers."

Hassen smiled.

"You exaggerate," he said. "England is the only country in Europe at
least who could bring our master's palace about his ears in
twenty-four hours, and make beautiful Constantinople a heap of
blackened ruins. No, no, Domiloff. My master is wishful to serve you.
We are here--so far we have done all the work--it is for your aid now
we ask. That is only fair. You do not seem to understand the real
reason for haste. I know that at any moment the protest which White
has already presented may be followed by an ultimatum."

"And your master would regard it?"

"I am very sure that he would," Hassen answered, promptly. "It is not
worth while attempting to deceive you. If England is really no longer
a country worthy of consideration, fight her yourself. I am very sure
that we shall not. And you must remember this, Domiloff, the
agitation throughout England in favour of Theos is fed day by day with
letters from this very city. The writer must be with you all the time.
Yet you permit him to continue--you with your unscrupulousness and
your secret agents. England's intervention, if she does intervene, is
entirely your fault."

"Damn that fellow," Domiloff muttered through his teeth.

"You know who it is!" Hassen exclaimed.

"Yes!"

"And you permit him to continue? You have made no effort to close his
mouth?"

"Oh, I have tried," Domiloff answered, hastily. "He is an Englishman,
and he cannot be bought. He will not listen to reason. And so far as
regards other means we have been unfortunate. He has a hat with two
bullet holes in it."

Hassen caught up his hat.

"Oh, I think that it is of no use my staying here," he said. "The
Domiloff I have heard of and used to know is not any more in
existence. That is very certain. You have let the man write these
letters day by day; you have had him within the city all this time,
and all that you can tell me is that 'he has a hat with two bullet
holes in,' 'you have been unfortunate.' Bah! The man who makes history
is not the man who fails in a trifle like that."

Domiloff ground his teeth together, but he kept his temper.

"My friend," he said, "that is all very well. But you do not
understand everything. This man is the lover of the Countess of
Reist. Any hurt to him would be a mortal affront to her."

"Cannot she make him hold his tongue?" Hassen asked. "If he is her
lover she should surely be able to bring him to our side. The girl is
pretty enough. Surely the Englishman is not a Joseph?"

"He is English, and that is worse," Domiloff answered. "But this very
day we caught him here in this house. She appealed to him--offered him
every inducement, implored him to cease those letters. His obstinacy
was amazing. Neither my threats nor her prayers and promises availed.
I ordered him to be seized, and then what must she do but turn round
and swear that if he were touched she would go to the King--and she
would have done it."

"So he got away?"

"He got away."

Hassen groaned.

"Domiloff," he said, "it is farewell. I do not come again. Our compact
is at an end. You are getting old, Domiloff. The days at Stamboul are
long past. 'He got away.' A change like this in a man is marvellous."

Domiloff stood before the door. He was very pale, and his face was not
pleasant to look upon.

"Stay where you are, Hassen," he said. "You have come here, it seems,
to reproach me for inaction, for not having helped you sufficiently
from within the city. Well, it is possible that I have relied too much
upon the result of your coming into touch with the Thetians. I
expected your army here before this, Hassen. However, you did not
come here only to complain, eh? You have a suggestion perhaps. Well,
let me hear it. As for the Englishman, I will risk the anger of Marie
of Reist. He shall not write another letter. Now what beyond that? I
am ready. The city is full of my agents. If only I were to give the
word, Hassen, you would never leave the city alive."

Hassen laughed scornfully.

"I have passed through the Thetian lines," he said, "and made my way
alone here, so it is not likely that death could come nearer to me
than this. But, Domiloff, you talk now more like a man. I will admit
that what you said is truth. I have come here with a scheme in mind,
and it is a good scheme."

"Then waste no more time," Domiloff said, quickly, "go on."

"There is in it," Hassen said, "a personal element. In truth my master
has disappointed me in this campaign. I should have been given the
entire command, and instead I have only a corps. Now I am stationed,
as you know, not at Solika, but at Althea. Therefore, it is my men
whom I would like to bring into Theos whilst Mellet Pascha, who has my
place, is still held back at Solika."

Domiloff nodded.

"That is reasonable," he said, "but the Althea passes are impregnable.
I do not think that they can be taken by assault at all."

"Nor I," Hassen answered, dryly. "I want a safe conduct through them."

Domiloff looked up quickly.

"I see. But Klipper, who is in command there, is incorruptible."

"Klipper must be removed then. Now what about the Duke of Reist,
Domiloff? He is on our side, is he not?"

"He is on our side," Domiloff answered, slowly, "but unfortunately he
has quarrelled with the King. He is in the house at this moment."

"Quarrelled? What folly. Domiloff, you seem to have bungled everything
you have touched lately. What is the good of Reist to us when he sits
here sulking?"

"The good of him," Domiloff repeated. "Why he is to be our puppet
King--for a month or so. He is simply invaluable. Besides, his absence
from the army has set people talking about the King. It has created
dissatisfaction."

"That is all very well, Domiloff," Hassen said, "but have you ever
considered how very much more useful Reist would be to us if he were
outwardly on friendly terms with the King, near him now and at the
head of his men--and all the time ours?"

"It is without doubt true, but you do not know Nicholas of Reist,"
Domiloff said, dryly. "He is not of the stuff from which conspirators
are fashioned. This quarrel with the King has cost me endless trouble.
He would never play a traitor's part, as he would call it, secretly."

Hassen smiled grimly.

"Listen, Domiloff," he said. "If Nicholas of Reist were to go to the
King and hold out his hand, and beg his pardon, would the King receive
him?"

"Of course."

"Would he give him the command at Althea if he were to ask for it?"

"Without a doubt."

"Then he must ask for it and get it. Then I will talk to him if you
find him so difficult. These are not times for neutrality. He must be
for the King or against the King. With the Althean passes unguarded
for an hour the thing is done. Then there can be as much intervention
as you like. Theos will be ours."

Domiloff stood silent, with knitted brows and downcast eyes.

"The scheme is good," he said, "but I fear very much whether Reist
will consent."

"He will have to," Hassen answered, coolly. "He is your man, is he
not? He has already committed himself too deeply to draw back. You can
show him that it is for the salvation of Theos."

"You shall show him yourself," Domiloff answered. "I will take you to
him. You will understand then the mood of the man with whom we have to
deal."

Hassen held up his hand.

"You forget," he said. "The Duke of Reist and I are ancient enemies. I
was in command when we raided the frontier ten years ago. Perhaps my
men were a little rough to their prisoners--I forget the circumstances
now, but there was trouble between us."

Domiloff shrugged his shoulders.

"So was I his enemy a short time ago," he answered. "It is barely a
month since the name of a Russian was like poison to him. But those
things are forgotten now. Reist is ours--absolutely. Our friends must
be his friends, and our enemies his. So I shall take you to him.
Believe me, it will be best."

Even then Hassen hesitated. The memory of Reist's outburst in London
was still before him. But Domiloff had already opened the door.

"Come," he said, softly, "I know that Reist is alone."




CHAPTER XLV


It seemed to Reist that this was the supreme moment of his indignity.
He stood before the two men, white-faced, hollow-eyed, speechless. And
Marie, who had joined their councils, watched him anxiously.

"Nicholas," she said, "this may sound to you a terrible thing. Indeed,
I myself wish that there were another way. But there are many things
to be considered. It will save bloodshed, and it will end the war.
With Theos lost, Ughtred and the Solika army must surrender. After
that----"

"Aye, after that," Reist interrupted, fiercely. "Let me hear what
Domiloff has to say. After that!"

"The rest is simplicity itself," Domiloff said, coolly. "A meeting of
the House of Laws shall be called, and the Turkish army shall be
withdrawn across the frontier. Sentence of banishment shall be passed
upon Ughtred of Tyrnaus, and you, Nicholas of Reist, shall be
proclaimed King. Then there shall be peace in Theos--peace, and I
hope, prosperity. We have gone over all this before, Reist. You must
trust us. Our alliance is useless if every few minutes you lose
faith."

"A passive treason was all that I promised," Reist said. "I undertook
to break with the King, to give up my command in the army, and remain
here. Nothing more! Surely that is enough for my share!"

"Under ordinary circumstances it would have been enough," Hassen
said, "but in one or two instances the unexpected has intervened. This
Englishman, whom you all seemed to have welcomed amongst you, has been
indeed a firebrand. His letters have been read everywhere. In England
they have done terrible mischief. In Germany, too, they have made
trouble. We have therefore to end this matter swiftly--with one coup.
We cannot now wait for the inevitable end. From your point of view,
Duke, surely this is better so. The prosecution of this war would
simply mean a devastated and depopulated Theos. Unless Ughtred of
Tyrnaus surrendered quickly the bloodshed would be terrible, the end
of course certain. Surely what we propose is the better way. You, Duke
of Reist, who are a Thetian and a patriot, must----"

"Stop!"

A sudden fire burst in Reist's dark eyes, the deep colour rushed into
his cheeks. There was a breathless silence in the little room.

"Not that word," he said, slowly. "For God's sake not that word. I do
not know what I am, or what men will call me when these terrible days
have passed away. But the patriots are those who wait with Ughtred of
Tyrnaus to give their lives for their country, those whose swords are
unsheathed, and whose heart is stout for battle. I, who spend my
gloomy days here, striving to keep the sound of those guns from my
ears, skulking in the shadows, afraid even to show my face at the
window--I am no patriot."

"The Duke of Reist does himself an injustice," Domiloff said, softly.
"It is physical courage which fills a man's heart with the desire to
fight--a greater thing than this is the moral courage which keeps a
brave man inactive when he knows in his heart that inaction is best
for his country."

"Oh, you are a subtle reasoner, Domiloff," Reist said, bitterly. "I
cannot argue with you. Only I know that all Theos is standing sword in
hand before our ancient enemies, and I am here. The weariness of it is
intolerable."

"It is the nerves, my friend," Domiloff answered, cheerfully. "You
need a good gallop, a little of this stinging air. Well, what we need
of you is action, is it not?--and there is danger too."

"It goes beyond our bargain," Reist answered, in an agitated tone.
"Once I never dreamed that you, Hassen, would pass the threshold of my
door and leave it alive. As for such a thing as you ask--oh, I am not
Judas enough for that."

"Nicholas," his sister said, quickly, "can you not see that it is a
great deed. Think how many lives you will save. In years to come every
woman of Theos who sees her husband by her side will remember that you
were his preserver. Besides, it is too late now for hesitation. We
have chosen our side, and we must work for our cause."

Domiloff nodded.

"The Countess is right," he said. "Do as we ask, Nicholas of Reist,
and in a fortnight's time there will be no war or sign of war, and the
people shall know to whom they owe their deliverance."

Reist smiled bitterly.

"My people," he said, "will never overwhelm me with gratitude. You do
not know them as I do. A true Thetian would love best the man who led
them into the jaws of death to fight for his liberty, even though the
fight were in vain, than the man who made all things smooth and happy
for him by skulking within four walls and intriguing with such men as
you, Domiloff."

Hassen turned impatiently away.

"My friend," he said to Domiloff, "we waste our time here. Theos must
take its chance. I am not disposed to wait any longer for the Duke of
Reist's answer."

"Then you shall have it now," Reist said, facing them with a momentary
reassertion of his old self. "I accept. In an hour I will ride out to
Solika. But I shall do this thing my own way. Tell me only how I can
communicate with you at Althea."

"It is easy," Hassen exclaimed. "I will explain."

He drew Reist on one side. The Countess and Domiloff exchanged quick
glances. Then there came suddenly from below the sound of a measured
tramping of feet in the square, halting before the great mail-studded
door. Marie moved swiftly to the window.

"It is Ruttens," she announced, hurriedly, "the temporary commander of
police. He has forty or fifty men with him, and they have formed a
cordon around the door."

Hassen's hand flew to his sword. He looked towards Domiloff.

"What does this mean?" he exclaimed. "Have we been betrayed,
Domiloff?"

"It is not you they seek," he said. "Reist, find out what they want."

There was the sound of heavy footsteps upon the stairs. Marie sprang
towards the door, but she was too late. A servant had already thrown
it open.

"Colonel Ruttens," he announced.

Domiloff, already stealing to the furthermost corner of the room,
which was a large one, extinguished the solitary lamp and plunged the
whole place into comparative darkness. Ruttens paused a few yards from
the threshold and peered around him.

"Is the Duke of Reist here?" he asked.

Nicholas struck a match and lit a solitary candle. Its feeble flame
did little more than reveal his own pale face.

"Here I am, Colonel Ruttens. What do you want with me?"

Colonel Ruttens saluted.

"With you--nothing, Duke," he answered. "Nothing, save your help, that
is, in arresting a miscreant."

"Who is he?" Reist asked.

"The Baron Domiloff."

"He is a Russian subject," Reist said, slowly.

"I have a warrant for his arrest signed by the King," Ruttens
answered. "Russian or no Russian he has been guilty of inciting to
treason, of conspiring to bring a regiment of Cossacks into the city,
and of using firearms in the street. Apart from which his very
presence in the city is an offence, as he was banished by the King
some time ago."

"And why do you come to me?" Reist asked.

"Because Baron Domiloff is at present in this house," Ruttens
answered. "My men have surrounded it, and I have come first to you,
Duke. I call upon you, as a loyal Thetian, to aid me in making this
arrest."

"What right have you to assume that I should give shelter to Baron
Domiloff?" Reist asked, quietly.

"I regret to say that he is known to be in this house," Ruttens
answered. "Further, the fact that you, Duke, were also known to be
here when every loyal Thetian is under arms, compelled me to assume
that your attitude towards this Russian spy was not inimical."

Reist started as though struck. Immediately afterwards Ruttens'
attention was attracted by the sound of stealthy footsteps in the
further corner of the apartment. He half drew his sword and peered
forward.

"Who is that?" he asked. "Duke of Reist, I have spared you the
indignity of filling your house with police, but I must call upon you
at once to hand over my prisoner. If not I shall summon my men. I have
only to----"

He was powerless to utter another syllable. A strong pair of arms were
around his neck, and a handkerchief thrust into his mouth. He only
looked towards Reist, but the look was such that Reist felt the
shameful colour flood his cheeks.

Hassen's dagger gleamed blue in the twilight, but Reist held out his
hand.

"Listen," he said, "bind and gag him, and then escape by the western
entrance. But no violence. He is an old man."

Hassen shrugged his shoulders, but Domiloff hastened to assent.

"There is no need to hurt him," he said. "Keep him here quietly for a
while. I will order my men into the hall in case that motley crew
below try to force an entrance. Countess, will you be showing our
friend the way to the western exit? Reist, you must watch this man."

They hurried away. Reist stood quite still for a moment. His heart was
thumping against his side. He bent over Ruttens and lifted the gag
from his mouth.

"What was the signal to your men that they should follow you?" he
whispered.

Ruttens caught his breath for a moment.

"A--broken window."

Reist seized a paper-weight from his table and dashed it through the
nearest pane. The glass fell with a crash into the street below. There
was an answering shout and a rush of feet. Domiloff rushed breathless
in.

"What has happened?" he exclaimed.

"A stone thrown from the street below," he answered. "Quick, Domiloff,
and escape. They are streaming in below. Why, they are fighting
already."

Domiloff was pale with fear, but he forced a smile.

"I have friends in the city," he said. "They will not see me taken.
Farewell, Reist! Remember!"

He hastened from the room. Reist stooped down and cut the cords which
held Ruttens.

"Listen, Ruttens," he said. "I have plans of my own for saving Theos,
and unfortunately Domiloff has been concerned in them. But that is
over. You know the western entrance? He leaves by that. Quick!"

Ruttens staggered from the room. Already the sound of firearms rang
out from the hall below.




CHAPTER XLVI


"This is life," Brand said, blithely, as he leaped from his steaming
horse.

"And death," Ughtred answered, gravely. "God grant that Theos may not
know many days such as this."

Brand fixed his field-glasses and swept the scene below.

"Enemy advancing crescent shape in loose formation," he remarked.
"Your men capitally entrenched. Masked guns, too, and cavalry in
reserve. Your Majesty, how long have they been shelling the trenches?"

"All day," Ughtred answered, with a faint smile. "Our losses are less
than fifty wounded. This is their second advance. The first cost them
a thousand men."

An A. D. C. galloped up the hill with a report. Ughtred gave a few
rapid orders and retired for a few minutes to consult with his
officers. Below, the din of battle grew louder. Through the films of
smoke multitudes of grey uniformed men could be seen creeping across
the plain like ants, now hesitating and dropping, now running on from
shelter to shelter. To Brand they seemed as numberless as the pebbles
on the seashore. His face grew grave as he saw how near they were to
the long zigzag line of entrenchments. The Thetian firing, too, had
certainly slackened. A horrible idea flashed into his brain. If the
weakening fire were due to lack of ammunition Theos was doomed.

He looked around. Ughtred and his staff were specks in the distance.
They were hastening down to be nearer the scene of action. Brand
caught his horse, and galloped after them. The battle fever seemed to
be in the atmosphere. The afternoon heat was rendered more oppressive
by a murky vapour rising from the valley. Below, it was difficult to
see anything save the swarm of Turks creeping steadily on across the
plain. Above their heads screamed the shells which were to pave the
way for their advance. Brand hastened on, filled with misgivings.

At last he reached a spur of the hill from which an easy descent led
down into the valley. From here he could see into the trenches, and
his spirits revived. They were swarming with men, there were no signs
of any panic. The King and his staff had halted almost within shouting
distance, and protected from the enemy's fire only by a little clump
of trees. Then Brand knew that there was method in this silence.

A long, clarion-like bugle-call, and then--a sudden upheaval of all
the forces of destruction. From the heights above the pom-poms and
Maxims sent down a murderous rain, the trenches from end to end
belched forth red fire. Brand held his breath, it was an epoch--for a
looker-on a marvellous experience--a page in the chapter of his life.
The firing-line of the Turks was within four hundred yards of the
trenches, and in thirty seconds they were wiped out of existence. The
next line and the next shared the same fate. The Turkish officers
galloped to the front with drawn sabres, the Mohammedan battle-cry,
solemn and inspiring, rang fiercely out. It was useless. No living
thing could face that zone of destruction. A dust rose from the
bullet-riven ground. It was like a hail-storm upon an ocean. The Turks
wavered and broke, and the Thetian cavalry rode them through and
through, passing out of their broken ranks with blood-stained sabres
and hearts aflame.

Ughtred, watching, saw the first signs of danger, and signalled for
their withdrawal. But the lust of blood was awake in them, and they
were drunk with the joy of fighting. They followed and followed till
the Turks, out of that awful avalanche of death, became conscious that
a thousand Thetian horsemen were not an invincible force. Their fight
was checked, they were almost immediately surrounded, their leader
fell shot through the heart, and a miracle was required to save the
flower of the Thetian army.

A miracle which happened. For of a sudden a horseman, who had ridden
in the ranks, his face shaded by a helmet, leaped to the front.

"A Reist! A Reist!" he cried, "for God and Theos," and once more the
fear of numbers passed away. They fought like heroes, and in the melee
without serious loss. They fought their way almost to the open, and
their path was an avenue of blood. But how it might have gone with
them no man could tell, for at the critical moment the whole cavalry
reserve, with Ughtred himself at their head, fell upon the enemy's
right flank, and the triumph of the day was assured. The Turks fled,
and no further pursuit was attempted.

The man who had led that wonderful rally rode slowly back to his place
in the ranks. But Ughtred, from whose left temple the blood was
streaming, and whose arm was helpless, put his horse to the gallop and
intercepted him.

"It was well done, Duke of Reist," he said. "Will you shake hands with
me?"

For a moment Reist hesitated, and in that moment the King, stung by
his indecision, withdrew his appeal.

"I will not have a grudging reconciliation," he said. "As we are, so
we will remain until your apology is ready. But I am glad at least to
see that you are still a patriot. I cannot have you fighting in the
ranks, Duke of Reist. What post will you have?"

Reist stood very still for a moment, and the pallor on his cheeks was
more than the pallor of exhaustion.

"Your Majesty," he said, "there is a report that General Kolashin is
wounded. Send me to Althea."

The King turned his horse.

"As you will," he answered. "Captain Hartzan, ride with the Duke of
Reist to Althea, and take this ring to General Kolashin, whose command
the Duke of Reist will take over."

Then the King, flushed with fighting, the blood indeed still upon his
face from a wound on the temple, rode slowly down the lines of his
army. From far and near the men of Theos greeted him lustily. This was
indeed a born leader, whose dispositions had prevailed against the
wily Turkish generals, and whose personal valour they had, with their
own eyes, beheld. Even from Solika, far in the background, came an
answering echo to that strange thunder of men's rapturous voices.

Brand touched him on the arm.

"Your Majesty," he said, "you have won a victory to-day which will
amaze all Europe. Be careful that you do not lose what you have gained
by treachery!"

The King looked into Brand's grave face, and beckoned him on one side.

"Well?"

"Domiloff has got hold of Reist," he said. "He is a traitor. There is
something going on in the city even now, which I do not understand."

The King shook his head gravely.

"Reist is my personal enemy," he said, "but Theos has no more faithful
son. It is he who has just saved our victory from being turned into
disaster."

"Nevertheless," Brand answered, "he is Domiloff's man, and there is
treachery afoot. I will tell you what happened to me in the city."

The King listened with darkening face. But when Brand had finished his
story he shook his head again.

"Domiloff is my enemy," he said, "and it may be the Countess of Reist.
But of Reist himself I will believe no such thing."

"Your Majesty will regret it," Brand remarked, dryly.

"If you are right, I certainly shall," the King answered, "for I have
appointed Reist to the command at Althea."

Brand wheeled his horse round.

"I wish you good fortune--and good-bye," he said.

The King looked at him in amazement.

"Where are you going, Brand?" he asked.

"Home."

"Home! Why?"

"The war is over," Brand answered. "The Turks will occupy Theos
to-morrow."

"You are talking nonsense," Ughtred declared, hotly.

Brand shook his head.

"Your Majesty," he said, "you will admit that a traitor at Althea can
let the Turks into Theos."

The King frowned.

"It is true," he admitted, "but Reist is no traitor."

"If you will come with me to the city," Brand answered, "I will prove
to you that he is!"




CHAPTER XLVII


"Baron Domiloff! It is I, Marie of Reist. Let me in."

She stepped into the darkened room, and closed the door behind her.
Domiloff, who was looking white and scared, turned the key in the lock
and faced her nervously.

"Why have you come here, Countess?" he exclaimed. "Do you not
understand that I am in hiding? It is not a fit place for you--and you
may have been followed."

She held her handkerchief to her face and looked around her in
disgust.

"You are right," she answered. "It is not a fit place for any one. It
is abominable. What are you doing here?"

"The King and this Englishman Brand are in the city together, and they
have scent of how things are going," he answered. "My house in the
avenue was surrounded by soldiers this morning, but I managed to give
them the slip and reach here safely. Have you brought me word from
Nicholas?"

She shook her head.

"No!"

"Then why are you here? This place is of evil repute. Besides, it is
not safe. You may have been followed."

"I believe that I was," she answered. "It is not of any consequence.
There is not any one in Theos who would harm a Reist."

His face was unnaturally white. She looked at him in wonder. Was the
man a coward?

"But it was madness!" he exclaimed, angrily. "There are spies
everywhere. Your brother and I were overheard talking together at this
very place. I may be arrested at any moment."

She glanced at him contemptuously.

"I suppose that when one conspires," she said, "there is always
danger. Baron Domiloff, I have followed you here because since noon
yesterday there have been two attempts upon the life of the
Englishman, Walter Brand."

"Both bungled," he remarked. "One is ill served, so far from home."

She turned upon him fiercely.

"Have you forgotten what I told you only a few days ago?"

"One does not remember too long," he answered, lightly, "the words of
an angry woman."

Her eyes flashed upon him wrathfully. The odour of the violets at her
bosom seemed to fill the dark, stuffy room. He remarked suddenly how
beautiful she was.

"If you do not know when a woman is in earnest," she declared, "you
are a fool. I have come to tell you this. That the moment evil happens
to him I go at once to the King. I tell him everything. Mind, this is
no idle threat. I swear to you that I will do this."

A cloud of evil passions swept up from the man's heart. He drew a
little closer to her and took up his stand nearer the door.

"It is folly," he said, in a low tone, "the man is working up all
Europe with his accursed letters. He must be removed."

"If evil comes to him," she said, steadily, "the King shall know all."

He drew a little closer to her. An ugly smile curved his lips.

"It cannot be, Countess, that your interest in this fellow is
personal. He is not of your order. You would not be so cruel as to
bestow upon him a consideration which you deny to your equals!"

"It seems to me," she said, calmly, "that you are trying to be
impertinent. The nature of my interest in Mr. Brand can be no concern
of yours. It is sufficient that what I have said I mean!"

"I do not find it sufficient," he answered, quietly.

She turned upon him haughtily. Her delicate eyebrows were drawn
together. Her eyes were aglow with anger. Domiloff watched her
stealthily. Why had he never realized how handsome she was? He drew a
little nearer to her.

"What do you mean?" she demanded. "Insolent!"

"Countess," he answered, "it is very strange to me that you should so
long have been ignorant of the truth. Do you think that it is for the
sake of Theos I have planned for the overthrow of Ughtred of Tyrnaus?
Do you think that it is for your brother's sake that I have smoothed
his _way_ to the throne? No! My reward has always been clear before
me. I have looked for it always at your hands."

"At my hands?"

He winced before the amazed scorn of her words. Yet he continued
steadily.

"If you are surprised, Countess," he said, "well, I have been the
victim of that time-worn fallacy which ascribes to any woman at any
time the knowledge of being loved. You have always been the object of
my respectful admiration. You are now----"

She threw out her hands--a silencing gesture.

"Enough!" she exclaimed. "I do not know what you are going to say. I
do not wish to hear it."

"You must!" he declared. "You shall hear me!"

She turned her back upon him, but he was between her and the door. He
turned the key in the lock, and faced her--a new Domiloff, wolf-like,
with evil things in his white face and black eyes.

"You shall promise to be my wife," he said, "or----"

"Or what?"

She did not quail. His eyes fell before hers. But the key slipped into
his pocket.

"Or you do not leave this house," he answered. "I am master here. The
whole quarter is Russian. Be reasonable, Countess. The alliance is
worthy of your consideration."

She leaned suddenly forward, and struck him across the cheek.

"You cur," she cried. "I would as soon marry one of my servants."

She beat upon the door and called out. Domiloff drew out his
handkerchief and held it to his cheek. He made no effort to silence
her. There was a dull red mark across his face. If she could have seen
his expression she would have been frightened.

There came no answer to her calling. She rushed across to the window.
There were men on the place below, but they only answered her frantic
gestures with dull indifference--at most with a shrug of the shoulders
and a smile. They were Russian Jews. It was as Domiloff had said. They
were his creatures. It was the one evil spot in Theos. Domiloff stood
with his back to her, still with his handkerchief to his face.

She turned upon him fiercely.

"If you do not let me out," she cried, "Nicholas shall shoot you like
a dog."

"It may be," he answered, coolly, "that I shall shoot Nicholas. At
least there will be something to be wiped out between us. I shall not
fear his vengeance."

"What do you mean?" she asked, suddenly cold with the first sensations
of fear. The man's quietness was ominous, and she could see his face
now. He put his handkerchief away and came over to her, catching her
wrists with a sudden catlike movement.

"It is your own fault," he said. "You will remember that blow to your
dying day."

       *       *       *       *       *

They stood side by side at the window of one of the great reception
rooms of the palace, the King and Brand. A driving storm of rain was
beating against the glass, and the thunder rattled amongst the distant
hills from peak to peak. Ughtred was looking more pale and harassed
than when he had ridden, sword in hand, in front of his tiny army and
watched the Turks closing in around them.

"What is the meaning of it, Brand?" he asked, sadly. "There is
something astir which I cannot understand. See how the people throng
the Square in front of the Reist house, and scarcely even glance this
way. What are they waiting for?"

Brand shook his head.

"The true meaning of it I do not know," he answered, "but there is
treason abroad. I am sure of that, and I am sure that Nicholas of
Reist is concerned in it."

The King bit his lip. If Nicholas of Reist were a traitor, what hope
was there for Theos?

"I do not know these people," he said. "My men are all in the field,
or under arms at the barracks. These are not native Thetians."

"They look to me," Brand said, dryly, "like a horde of Russian Jews
from across the frontier."

"I am going to ride once more through the city," the King said. "Come
with me, Brand."

They left the palace by a side door, and passed cautiously along the
street, the King with his military cloak wrapped closely about him.
All around was a constant muttering. The people talked together
excitedly enough, but without elation. There were no signs that this
was a day of victory. The King's face grew stern.

"I do not know this rabble," he said. "They are not my own people."

"They are the tools of Domiloff," Brand answered. "It is he who is at
the root of all this trouble. It is he who has corrupted Nicholas of
Reist."

They rode across the Square, and the people scattered before them with
muttered imprecations. Brand suddenly turned into a side street and
motioned the King to follow him.

"Our police," he said, "have failed to catch Domiloff. Let us try
ourselves. I believe I know where he may be found."

The King's face lightened, and he touched his horse with the spur. But
Brand hesitated.

"The place is in a bad quarter," he said. "There will be risk."

But Ughtred laughed.

"With a guard," he said, "we should have no chance. You and I alone
will take Domiloff."




CHAPTER XLVIII


The storm had driven away the crowd of loiterers from in front of the
Cafe Metropolitan. The King and Brand stood under one of the small
lime trees which bordered the road, watching the place. The lower
room, unshuttered, and lit with several flaring gas jets, was filled
with a crowd of men drinking and singing songs. From the upper windows
came no sign of life.

"That is where I believe that Domiloff is hiding," Brand declared. "Do
you see what a rabble that is inside the _cafe_?"

The King nodded.

"Russian Jews, every one of them," he said. "Anyhow, there are too
many of them for us to enter the place single-handed.

"Brand, take one of the horses, and ride to the barracks. Bring down a
guard of twenty-five men. I will wait here."

Brand nodded, and hurried away to the corner of the street, where they
had left the horses. The King lit a cigar, shielding the light as much
as possible with his hand, and leaned against the trunk of the tree.

Five minutes passed, ten, a quarter of an hour. The King, whose
thoughts were none of the pleasantest, grew impatient. Suddenly, the
cigar dropped from his fingers. He sprang forward with beating heart,
bewildered, incredulous. For he had seen a strange thing.

Up at that dark, unlit window had flashed for a moment the pale,
terror-stricken face of a woman, drawn back almost at once by an
unseen hand. The echoes of her passionate cry for help rang still in
his ears. And, strangest thing of all, the face was the face of Marie
of Reist.

Ughtred forgot then that he was a King, and that his life was a pledge
to his country. He remembered only that he was a man of more than
ordinary strength, and that from that dreary little room a woman was
calling to him for help. In the passage the few loiterers who disputed
his way were brushed on one side like flies. He sprang up the little
staircase, which creaked under his weight, in half-a-dozen bounds. The
girl's cries were plainly to be heard now. He thundered upon the door.

There came for a moment no answer. The girl's cry was stifled, as
though by a rough hand.

"Let me in," Ughtred cried. "At once."

There came no answer save a man's muttered curse and the sound of
footsteps. Ughtred was wearing his military riding boots, and the door
was crazy and old. A single charge, and it went crashing into the
room. Ughtred stumbled, and saved his life, for a bullet whistled just
over his head as Domiloff sprang to the window.

Marie, breathless and dishevelled, recognized Ughtred with a cry of
wonder.

"The King!" she exclaimed, and Domiloff, who might have escaped,
looked round and hesitated. Ughtred, who was as quick as lightning
upon his feet, snatched him back from the window-sill and threw him
heavily upon the floor.

There was no time for explanations. Through the debris of the door
there sprang into the room half-a-dozen of the loiterers from the room
below. They faced the King, standing like a giant in the centre of the
floor with his long military sword flashing grey in the dim light.

"Be off," he cried. "This is not your affair. I do not wish to hurt
any of you, but I will kill the first man who comes a yard further."

They hung back, but one remained looking about him with crafty,
peering eyes, his long upper teeth gleaming like yellow fangs. His
hand lurked about his tunic.

"Little master," he said, "tell us what has happened here? There is a
man hurt. What have you done to him?"

Ughtred's sword was within an inch of the man's chest.

"The man is unhurt and my prisoner," Ughtred said.

"Your prisoner, little master. My eyes are bad, and the light is dim.
Who are you to come here and make prisoners?"

"I am the King," Ughtred answered, rashly.

There were those who knew him. There was a murmur which was like a
growl, and Ughtred hesitated no longer, but ran his sword through the
man whose knife was already stealing from his tunic. He fell back with
a shriek of horror, and the King himself in grievous danger, wrenched
his sword free. There were half-a-dozen knives raised, and one must
have struck into his chest. But Marie, stooping down, had seized
Domiloff's revolver, and, leaning over, shot the man through the
heart. The King, who had recovered his balance, sprang amongst them,
and they scattered like rabbits. Then came a great cry from
down-stairs.

"The soldiers! Quick! Save yourself."

They fled without waiting for a parting stroke. Ughtred lowered his
sword and let them pass. There were three dead and wounded in the
room, and Domiloff lay on his back where the King had thrown him. The
King turned to Marie.

"You are a brave woman," he said. "You have saved both our lives."

But she held out both her hands to him, and her eyes were streaming.

"Your Majesty has saved more than my life," she faltered, "and I have
not deserved it. I have been your enemy."

He took her hands gently.

"We have fought together," he said. "Henceforth we should be
comrades."

       *       *       *       *       *

Eleven men sat around a long table in one of the rooms of the Reist
house. They talked only in whispers, and a general air of uneasiness
was apparent. It was rumoured that the King was in the city, and these
men felt themselves to be conspirators. Domiloff was strangely absent.
The Countess of Reist in her own house had omitted to offer them a
welcome.

Their suspense was temporarily ended, however. The door opened, and
Baron Doxis entered, followed by a foreigner, whom most of them
recognized. They rose to their feet. Baron Doxis presented the guest.

"My colleagues," he announced, "this is Monsieur Gourdolis, the
accredited envoy of the Czar to us. He has certain proposals to submit
upon which we will at once debate."

A Counsellor rose up.

"Has the Countess of Reist any message to us from her brother?"

"The Countess of Reist," Baron Doxis answered, "is unaccountably
absent."

"And Domiloff?" another asked. "It is chiefly owing to his
representations that we are assembled here to-day. Is he too absent?"

There was a moment's silence. Then Gourdolis spoke.

"Gentlemen," he said, "my friend Domiloff will be with us doubtless
before this meeting is dissolved. In the meantime, I will, with your
permission, lay before you the terms on which my august master the
Czar is willing to stay the hand of Turkey, by force if necessary, and
guarantee your independence."

Some heavy curtains at the end of the room were suddenly thrown aside.
The King stood there, and by his side Marie of Reist.

"My arrival, it would appear, is opportune," the King said, grimly.
"Address yourself to me, and proceed, Monsieur Gourdolis."




CHAPTER XLIX


One by one the members of the Council staggered to their feet. The
coming of the King was like a bombshell thrown amongst them. They
were met in secret conclave, a proceeding to the last degree
unconstitutional. They were receiving, too, an emissary from a foreign
country which amounted to high treason. Doxis was perhaps the first to
recover himself.

"Your Majesty's coming is unexpected," he said. "I trust that there is
no ill news from the seat of war."

"There is no news, save good news," the King answered, having handed a
chair to Marie. "Yesterday's battle you all know about. I will tell
you the prospects later. Meanwhile, I see that you have a stranger
here. What has Monsieur Gourdolis to say to us?"

Gourdolis rose slowly to his feet. He was a man of resource, a shrewd
and ready diplomatist. Already he was scheming how to turn to his own
advantage the King's unexpected presence. He played a bold card.

"Your Majesty," he said, respectfully, "it was painful to me to put
forward my master's propositions to the Council of the House of Laws
in your absence, it is still more painful to do so in your presence. I
speak, however, to the representatives of a nation whose liberty and
whose very existence is threatened, and I offer them--in a
word--salvation. That is my excuse for my presence here to-day."

"What your offer really amounts to is no doubt the Russian yoke
instead of the Turkish," Ughtred remarked, bitterly. "My forefathers
have tasted more than once of Muscovite generosity."

Gourdolis shook his head gravely.

"Your Majesty," he said, "you wrong my country, and my master. Our
demands are very simple, and I lay the terms of them here upon the
table. The only conditions upon which I regret to say that my master
is immovable is the immediate abdication of your Majesty."

The King sat with unchanged face.

"In favour of whom?" he asked.

"Nicholas, Duke of Reist!"

"Is the Duke of Reist cognizant of this, and willing to accept the
throne?" the King asked.

"He is, your Majesty," Baron Doxis answered.

Marie rose to her feet.

"It is false," she declared. "My brother is a patriot, and he has
taken the oath of allegiance to the King. I pledge my word for his
that he will keep that oath."

A murmur of blank amazement was followed by a dead silence. Gourdolis
was speechless. The King looked around him, sternly.

"Have I by chance stumbled upon a conspiracy?" he asked. "What do you
say, Taverner, and you, Valgrosse? Did you come here prepared to
listen to such a proposition as this?"

"Indeed, your Majesty," Taverner answered, hastily, "I did not."

"Nor I!" Valgrosse echoed.

"What about you, Doxis?" the King asked.

The old Baron, who, for many years had been chairman of the House of
Laws, rose slowly to his feet.

"Your Majesty," he said, "I will admit that I alone of those present
here had some knowledge of this proposal. I hope that your Majesty
will not look upon my presence here as disloyal or unseemly. Only in
my heart is deep engraven the love of my country and her people, and
the one dread of my life has been the coming of the Turk. Your
Majesty, no one has been a more sincere admirer than myself of the
wise and careful manner in which you have ruled this country. Young
though you are, you have more than fulfilled our most sanguine
expectations. Only I fear that unaided we may as well hope to stem the
tide of the mighty Danube as repel this Turkish invasion."

"You have spoken like a true man, Doxis," the King said. "Yet I must
remind you that your presence here is akin to treason. What of the
oath of loyalty which you swore to me only a few months ago?"

"Your Majesty," Doxis answered, "I have not broken that oath. I am
here only to listen to what these proposals may be. That, I take it,
is the position also of my colleagues."

A murmur of assent. Gourdolis remained standing, his papers in his
hands.

"Your Majesty will forgive me if I assert that there is no treason
involved in the presence of any one here. I summoned those to meet me
whom I knew to be real and true patriots--who would not hesitate at a
small thing to secure their country's freedom."

The King faced him scornfully.

"We have heard, Monsieur Gourdolis," he said, "of the freedom of those
countries whom your beneficent master has taken under his wing.
Councillors, I think more highly of your intelligence than to imagine
that you are to be suborned by such clumsy intriguing as this. Freedom
is one thing, the yoke of Russia another. I will tell you some of the
considerations which Monsieur Gourdolis has presently to propose to
you. The custom-houses are to be controlled by Russia. The appointment
of all government officials is to be sanctioned by her. Our foreign
policy is to be her foreign policy. The army is to be officered by
Russians, and Russian is to be taught in the schools. These things are
amongst your conditions. Is it not so, Monsieur Gourdolis?"

Gourdolis hesitated, and his chance was gone.

"You have employed spies," he muttered.

"Not I!" the King answered. "Yet I know your terms as they were
proposed to Nicholas of Reist, and it amazes me only that you should
have expected men in whose hands remain the destinies of their country
to give you even a patient hearing. My Councillors, give this man the
answer his insolent mission deserves, and let him be shown across the
frontier. We will before long show Europe how we deal with our
enemies. The Turks are not yet at the gates of the city."

There was a murmur of respectful enthusiasm. Gourdolis smiled a very
evil smile.

"Not yet," he murmured, "but the end is not far off."

Baron Doxis rose up.

"Your Majesty," he announced, "our answer is unanimous. We have been
misled by Baron Domiloff, both as to the nature of Monsieur
Gourdolis's mission and the attitude of the Duke of Reist. We reject
his terms. We decline once and for all to treat with him. We trust to
God and to you to keep the enemy from our gates."

The King smiled upon them.

"I thank you all," he said, "for your confidence. Let me add that I
believe the day will come when you will be heartily thankful that you
gave this man the answer he deserved. The importance of our victory
yesterday has, I find, been wilfully minimized in the city, but I can
assure you that with only a very trifling loss we withstood an attack
on the part of the whole Turkish forces. I have, however, better news
than that for you. The greatest nation in the world would seem to have
espoused our cause. Yesterday afternoon the English Ambassador at
Constantinople presented an ultimatum to the Sultan, demanding the
withdrawal of his forces from the frontier of Theos. The Press
throughout Europe have announced the fact this morning."

Baron Doxis rose hurriedly to his feet.

"Your Majesty," he exclaimed, in broken tones, "permit me, on the part
of your Councillors and myself, to express our unbounded confidence
both in your military skill and in your diplomacy. Theos has found a
second Rudolph."

The King smiled faintly.

"We are an instance," he said, "of an ancient nation who has benefited
by the great new power of this generation. My diplomatic appeal to the
English Government would have been of no avail but for the wonderful
espousal of our cause by the whole British Press. That we owe to one
who has been living amongst us, and who has three times within the
last few days narrowly escaped assassination by the friends of Baron
Domiloff. Monsieur Gourdolis, you have your answer."

Gourdolis remained imperturbable. He bowed to Baron Doxis, and moved
towards the door. Then he faced the King.

"Your Majesty," he said, "has a singularly dramatic knack of turning
up in unexpected places and at unexpected times. May that faculty not
desert you during the next few days."

He closed the door and departed. The King rose to his feet.

"Baron Doxis," he said, "I leave the charge of the city in your hands.
I return at once to the front. There is no telegraphic communication
between the headquarters of the Turkish Commander-in-Chief and
Constantinople, and in any case it is well to be prepared. Countess of
Reist, will you favour me for one moment?"

She led him into her own little room, and placed her hands in his.

"We are friends?" he asked.

"If your Majesty can really pardon me," she answered, fervently,
"--for always."

"And Brand?" the King asked.

Her cheeks burned with a sudden rush of colour.

"You may tell him," she said, "after to-morrow."




CHAPTER L


Into the black night across the level plain which stretched between
Theos and the pass of Althea a woman rode as one rides a race with
death. Her servants had been left far away behind--her horse's sides
were streaked with foam, once or twice he had swerved and almost
unseated her. She plied him with whip and spur, and passionate words.
It was for the honour of a great race, for her own salvation that she
rode. All was well as yet. The lights of the camp were twinkling like
a band of ribbon across the hillside, and there was silence as deep as
death everywhere, except when the wind came booming down the valley in
fitful gusts, and bowed the tops of the lonely and stunted trees.
Upwards she mounted, and the road grew rougher. Her horse's eyes were
streaked with blood, his nostrils quivered. Still she urged him on. A
little further now, and her goal was reached. So she rode on, white to
the lips with fear--lest even now she should be too late.

At the outposts they stopped her, and the great bay horse, after
staggering for a moment like a drunken man, fell over dead. She
scarcely glanced at him. The officer, who knew her, rapidly
transferred her saddle to his own pony.

"It is a message from the King to Nicholas," she said. "Tell me, how
long will it take me?"

"The Duke is himself guarding the Beacon," the soldier answered.
"Madame the Countess will reach him in ten minutes."

She galloped off, never noticing that her pony's feet were shod with
felt. She looked neither to the right nor the left, and she saw
nothing of the strange restlessness which seemed to pervade the camp.
Everywhere the shadows of men were moving noiselessly about. Spectral
guns were surrounded by little groups of whispering soldiers. There
was no bivouacing, the camp-fires burned low. Every now and then, when
challenged, she mechanically repeated the countersign. All the while
her lips were moving in one ceaseless, passionate prayer.

They took her pony at the summit, and a silent sentry pointed to where
a single dark figure stood out against the empty background. A few
yards to his left was the great beacon, and a row of torches burned in
a stand, ever ready for the signal. She called to him softly, and even
to herself her voice seemed to come from a long way off.

"Nicholas! Nicholas!"

He turned towards her, and she saw that his face was livid. He was
horrified to see her.

"Marie! The good God! What has happened?"

"I have deceived you, Nicholas," she whispered, hoarsely. "The writing
was not the writing of the King. It was Domiloff's plot, and I wanted
to see you King. The King has saved my life. Forever, Nicholas, you
and I must be his faithful subjects. I have given my word. I have
pledged your honour."

Then into the face of Nicholas of Reist there came a transfiguring and
almost holy joy. He uttered no word of reproach. The glory of life
was once more hot in his pulses. He drew her to him.

"Thank God!" he sobbed. "This way, Marie! Now listen!"

She stooped with him over that awful chaos. From below came a sound
like the falling of autumn rains upon dead leaves. He held her to him.

"It is the Turks," he whispered.

She sprang away in horror, but he laughed softly.

"Marie," he said, "that is well. Instead of a sleeping camp our guns
will rake the Pass, our men await only the signal. Up here, where one
is near God, one sees clearly. I am the faithful servant of Theos,
even though the King had been my enemy. See!"

He listened for a moment, and then crossing the hill, took a torch
from the stand and plunged it into the heart of the great beacon.
Tongues of fire leaped up to the sky, and a hoarse murmur passed like
a wind through the camp. Then the ground beneath them shook with the
roar of artillery. Nicholas took her by the arm.

"Ride for Theos at once," he directed. "You will be quite safe, for no
Turk will pass alive through the Pass. Tell the King that I am his
faithful servant."

       *       *       *       *       *

About halfway to Theos, Brand, galloping furiously out from the city,
came face to face with Marie riding leisurely home on a small pony. He
leaped from his horse in amazement.

"Marie," he exclaimed, "what is happening at the Pass? How came you
here?"

She was very tired, but she smiled at him reassuringly.

"Nicholas has over ten thousand Turks in the defile," she said. "They
must either surrender or be killed."

"Thank God!" he exclaimed.

She got off her pony and sat on a bank.

"I am very tired," she said, and, swaying suddenly towards him,
fainted in his arms.

Brand was a man of resource, and in a few minutes she reopened her
eyes. He poured some brandy between her lips, and she sat up.

"I am very sorry," she said. "I rode last night from Theos to Althea,
and I have had no rest."

He made her drink some milk. They sat hand in hand, a wonderful dawn
breaking in the east. By and by a horseman from Theos passed them at
full gallop.

"The war is over," he cried. "The English fleet is at Constantinople!
The Turks have sued for peace. Long live the King."

He vanished in a cloud of dust, riding furiously for the Pass. Brand
took Marie into his arms and kissed her.

"Dear," he said, "I haven't much money, and I'm only an ordinary man."

She laughed softly.

"I think in Theos," she said, "we have clung a little too closely to
the old ideals. Rank is very well, and money I know little about. But
on the whole, I am glad that you are an ordinary man."

[Illustration: "'THE WAR IS OVER,' HE CRIED."]

They rode into Theos as the King arrived from Solika. The Cathedral
bells clanged out a welcome, the people lined the streets, everywhere
breathless excitement prevailed. Old Baron Doxis met the King on the
palace steps. He held out both hands, but his eyes were wet with
tears.

"Your Majesty," he said, "this is your day of triumph, and yours
alone. May God send you in the future wiser and better councillors."

But Ughtred passed his arm through the old man's, and led him into the
palace.

"I am young and I was unproven," he said. "I shall be quite satisfied
if God will preserve for many years my present ones."

       *       *       *       *       *

Theos won for herself, as the fruits of that brief campaign, a
wonderful military reputation, and every prospect of unbroken peace.
She entered indeed upon that golden age which comes once in the
world's history to every nation, great or small. Mr. Van Decht built a
palace within the city, and invested all his vast capital in the
country. Brand, whose services no one realized more thoroughly than
the King, accepted a Government appointment and entered the House of
Laws a naturalized Thetian. And when they asked the King what gift a
grateful nation could offer him, he answered them promptly but in very
few words.

"The right to depart from a constitutional principle. The right to
share my throne with the woman I love."

There was no hesitation, no break in the thunderous applause which
greeted his answer, and which Nicholas of Reist himself led. The
marriage of Ughtred of Tyrnaus and Sara Van Decht under such
conditions touched the imagination of Europe. Every capital was
anxious to _fete_ them, the Society papers lived upon their doings
for years. But even they did not know that during that famous visit to
London, where they were received with a consideration rarely accorded
even to royalty, they stole away one evening and dined together
_tete-a-tete_ at a famous London restaurant. They were unrecognized,
and they enjoyed themselves like children. Afterwards they found out a
certain seat in a certain corner of the palm lounge, and spent a very
delightful hour there. When at last they rose to go he took her hand
for a moment softly in his.

"Tell me," he whispered, "you find it possible to be happy, although
you are a queen?"

"I am your wife, dear," she answered, with a little squeeze of his
hand, which seemed to satisfy him.

An amazing whisper suddenly passed from group to group of the
brilliantly-dressed men and women who sat about in the Court. The band
broke off in the middle of a selection and played the National air of
Theos. Every one rose respectfully. He passed her hand through his arm
with a little grimace.

"They have found us out, dear," he whispered.

The people gazed with breathless but well-bred interest. They saw a
tall, distinguished-looking man, with the mark of a recent scar
slightly disfiguring his left temple, and upon his arm the most
beautiful woman in the room, her eyes wonderfully soft and brilliant,
a delicate flush upon her cheeks. The King and Queen of Theos passed
out to their carriage.




       *       *       *       *       *




Transcriber's note:

Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise,
every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words and
intent.



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