Chapter 21

ON THE EDUCATION OF PRINCES

The Prince sprang to his feet and bowed low over the hand which Kasia, after an instant's startled hesitation, had extended. Her father watched the scene with an amused face.

"You arrived most opportunely, my dear," he said. "The Prince, being bored, as is the way with Princes, came to me, asking to be amused. I started out to amuse him by describing certain strange customs of America, which he is about to visit for the first time; but I was soon on my hobby again, and instead of amusing him...."

"You were abusing him!" said Kasia, laughing. "At least, it sounded so to me!"

"Oh, not at all!" the Prince hastened to assure her. "I found what he was saying most interesting."

But Vard, with that quick change of mood characteristic of his temperament, had already decided that it was not worth while attempting to rear any seed from this barren soil. The Prince's intentions were good enough, but they would come to nothing--his father would see to that!

"Nevertheless," said Vard, "I am not an amusing companion. I am too much of a preacher, and no one likes to be shouted at. I would suggest, Kasia, that you take His Highness for a tour of the deck."

The Prince's face brightened wonderfully.

"That would indeed be kind!" he said.

Kasia looked at him with a little smile. Perhaps the opportunity of talking familiarly with royalty piqued her, good democrat as she was; and then he was not a bad-looking fellow. One could see that he was not brilliant, but he at least looked clean and honest.

"If you really wish it," she agreed.

For answer, the Prince sprang to the door.

"One moment," Vard interposed. "You will remember, Kasia, that the Prince is incognito, and that, under no circumstances, must you betray to any spectator or listener who he is."

"I will remember, father," said Kasia, and followed the Prince out upon the deck.

Wherefore it presently came to pass that Dan Webster, staring gloomily down from the after boat-deck upon the flitting beauties of the first-class promenade, beheld the lady of his dreams strolling beside a well-set-up young fellow, whose face seemed vaguely familiar, and in whose conversation she was evidently deeply interested--so interested that she finally climbed with him to a seat on the upper deck; and when they sat down, Dan saw that the young fellow sat very close indeed. He stared incredulously for a moment longer, and then turned angrily away, to bump violently into M. Chevrial, who was also staring.

"What the...." Dan began, and then stopped himself. What right had this Frenchman to stare? But then, for that matter, what right had he?

Chevrial was the first to recover himself. He glanced at Dan's disturbed countenance, and smiled as he read his thought.

"I was surprised to see a passenger of the second-class so calmly enjoying the privileges of the forward deck," he explained. "If any one was to enjoy those privileges, I should have expected it to be you."

"So he _is_ second-class! I thought he looked somehow familiar. I remember, now."

"He is undoubtedly the same young German we have seen so frequently pacing this deck," said Chevrial. "I fancy he is lonely and desires amusement. But, at the same time, I fear that you lack enterprise, M. Webster. That is not like an American."

Dan flushed, and started to stalk away, but Chevrial laid a hand upon his arm.

"No, do not be angry with me," he said. "I beg your pardon. It will please you to know that that young man yonder is one of the very few persons on this boat with whom Miss Vard may talk unconstrainedly. No doubt that is why she appears so glad to see him."

With which cryptic utterance, M. Chevrial went below, and left Dan to bitter meditation.

* * * * *

Kasia, meanwhile, was enjoying herself immensely.

"Now," she said, leaning back in the seat, after a glance around to assure herself that there was no one within hearing, "please tell me what it is like to be a Prince. Don't you get frightfully lonesome, sometimes?"

"That was my complaint to-day, when I sought your father."

"Yes--but always, always to stand apart from other men and women, so that they never dare be quite open with you; quite frank with you; always a little in awe of you."

"Not many people I know are in awe of me," said the Prince. "Most of them consider me something of a fool--they do not say so, but I can read it in their faces. My father thinks me a total fool, and does not hesitate to say so."

"He must be a terrible man!"

"He is," agreed the Prince, with conviction.

Kasia looked at him to see if he was in earnest; then turned away her head for an instant, until she could control her lips.

"How does it happen that you speak English so well?" she asked.

"My father required it. It is the result of many weary hours, I assure you. However," added the Prince, "I ought not to complain, since it has secured for me the present hour."

It was the first time Kasia had ever been made the mark for a royal compliment, and she flushed a little in spite of herself.

"It is nice of you to say so!" she murmured. "So you have had your bad times, too?"

"Bad times, Miss Vard! Why, the life that I have led has been a dog's life. There were so many things that I must know--that we all must know--so many things we must not do. I have often gazed from the windows of the palace and envied the boys in the gutter!"

"Not really!"

"Oh, not really, of course. I would not change. What I envied them was their liberty, their freedom to come and go as it pleased them."

"But since you are of age?"

"Even yet, each moment must be accounted for. I am now a lieutenant in the navy, and am supposed to employ each hour profitably. My father is a very great man; there are few things that he does not know; and he expects his sons to know as much. Even of pictures, which bore me; even of music, which distresses me. Everything is arranged. At such a time, I am to be with my ship; again, I am to attend the opera; again, I am to be present at the opening of a museum; again, I must listen to a long address which I do not understand. I may not even choose my own wife. All that is arranged."

"But no doubt," Kasia suggested, amused at his forlorn aspect, "your father will choose more wisely than you would."

"I do not know," said the Prince disconsolately. "I fear that he will consider birth and position of more importance than youth and beauty. Besides, there are some things a man likes to do for himself. My poor sister, now...."

He stopped, for, under the stimulus of Miss Vard's sympathy, he found himself about to betray a family secret.

"Yes, I can understand that," said Kasia, with more tenderness than she had yet shown. "You don't mind my talking frankly to you?"

"I love to be talked frankly to," protested the Prince.

This was very far from the truth, only the Prince didn't know it. What he really loved was flattery disguised as frankness. In this, he resembled most other human beings.

"Well, then," said Kasia, "if you don't like it, if you find it intolerable, why don't you cut and run?"

"Cut and run?"

"Yes; go away by yourself, be a free man, and marry the woman you love. For of course there is such a woman?"

"Oh, yes," and the Prince thought of the blue-eyed daughter of the shopkeeper in the Friedrichstrasse, just off Unter den Linden; however, he had never thought of marriage in connection with her. "But suppose I should do that," he added, "how should I live?"

"How do other men live? By work!"

"But that would be a disgrace!"

"Disgrace! It isn't half so disgraceful as to live by the work of other men."

"Your father said something of the same sort to me. But I fear that neither of you understands. A Prince cannot do such things."

Kasia threw up her hands.

"So we come back to the beginning of the circle!" she cried.

"Besides, my father would not permit it," added the Prince.

"Aren't you of age?"

"Yes--but he is the head of the family. He would have me brought home--from the end of the world, if necessary--and then I should be confined. Even my elder brother is sometimes confined--separated from his wife, from his children, permitted to see no one."

"Poor Prince!" said Kasia. "So you are a slave, like the rest of us--rather worse than the rest of us, indeed! Is there _nothing_ you can do?"

"Very few things," said the Prince, beginning really to pity himself. "You see, there is always my family to consider--nothing must be done to injure its position or to make it less popular. Even my father very often may not say what he thinks or do what he wishes."

"So he is a slave, too!"

"Yes, in a way. And it grows worse and worse. Often, in private, he laments the old days when a King was really a King, who was venerated and whose word was law. He grows very angry that at each election there are more socialists. He says that the only hope for the country is in a great war: it is for that he prepares."

"How would a great war help?"

"Oh, in face of the common danger, our people would forget their differences, for they all love their Fatherland; they would fight shoulder to shoulder. And then, when it was over, they would all be mad with joy over the victory, and there would be new provinces to add to Germany, and an immense tax levied on our enemy to pay the expenses of the war, so that our own people would not have to bear that burden. It would all be just as it was after the war with France, when every German was filled with patriotism, and when Germany for the first time became one country. Our house would again be well-beloved, its authority unquestioned."

"But suppose you are defeated?"

"We shall not be defeated," said the Prince, calmly. "There is no nation in the world which Germany could not defeat--except, perhaps, the United States. But we shall not go to war with the United States. England will be our foe, and you will see her tumble to pieces like a house of cards. She is but an empty shell."

Kasia sat for a moment considering all this. If this was really what was in the Kaiser's mind--and she could scarcely doubt it--it was foolish to suppose that he would consent to disarmament.

"What you have told me is not very promising for universal peace," she said, at last.

"There can be no universal peace until we have humiliated England," replied the Prince. "That is the belief of all good Germans. The conflict must come soon, and we strain every nerve to prepare for it. I betray no secret when I tell you this. All Europe knows it. England struggles also to prepare, but we are always far ahead. When we are quite ready, we shall strike. Then, after we have won, after we have established Germany as the first nation of Europe, we shall be ready for peace. But we must have one more great victory. The welfare of our house demands it."

As he spoke, his eyes rested on the top of the companion-way leading from the lower deck, and he started violently, for a face had appeared there--a face which looked at him sternly, almost threateningly. It was the face of Pachmann. Without a word, it disappeared. The Prince turned nervously to his companion.

"Pardon me, Miss Vard," he said, "but I must go. And do not think too seriously of my chatter. I am not admitted to councils of state; I know only what every one knows. We Germans, we have our dreams; but perhaps they are only that."

He arose, opened his lips to say something more, then changed his mind, bowed, and hurried away. Kasia stared after him. She had not seen that silent summons. But he did not look back.

* * * * *

An hour later, Pachmann, with a countenance distinctly troubled, sought out Ignace Vard, who was reading in his room.

"The Prince has been talking to your daughter," he said.

Vard looked at him in surprise.

"I sent them out together," he explained. "I thought perhaps Kasia would amuse him--and be amused."

"Has she told you nothing?"

Again Vard glanced at him.

"No. Has she reason for complaint?"

"I did not mean that. I dare say he behaved decently enough. But he spouted a lot of childish nonsense about German hopes and German ambitions, and I feared your daughter might take him seriously. He is nothing but an ignorant young fool."

Vard laid aside his book and looked Pachmann full in the face.

"The truth comes sometimes from the mouths of fools," he said. "When am I to have my answer?"

"To be quite candid," answered Pachmann, readily, "I am afraid to give it to you on board this boat. I chose this boat because I believed we should be safe here. But there are spies on board; one of our conferences has been overheard--perhaps both of them," and he told of the assault upon Schroeder. "Then again, we must not be seen too much together. I might be recognised; and you are already suspected of having caused the destruction of _La Liberté_."

"How can that be?" Vard demanded, in a tone which showed that he was genuinely startled.

For answer, Pachmann took from his pocket-book a paper, unfolded it and handed it to Vard. It was the wireless from Lépine.

"That was received last Thursday," he said. "I suppose you know who Lépine is. By great good fortune, I intercepted it, and sent an answer denying that you were on board. It was for that reason you were removed to the first-class and your name kept off the passenger list. But how can he have suspected you?"

Vard shook his head slowly. He was a little pale, and the hand which held the message trembled.

"I cannot guess," he said.

"You have told no one?"

"Told!" flashed Vard. "Do you not see that, unless my great plan succeeds, that action will have been an infamous one? To kill three hundred men in order to assure peace to the world--that may be justified--that may even be heroic; but to kill them wantonly, to kill them and then to fail--that would drive me mad!" He looked at Pachmann, his eyes suddenly inflamed. "And let me tell you this," he added, in a voice of concentrated passion, "if I find that you have deceived me, if I find that you have betrayed me, Germany shall suffer a reprisal that will make you shudder! I swear it!"

Pachmann's eyes were also suffused. In that moment, he literally saw red.

"You threaten!" he cried hoarsely. "You dare to threaten!"

"I warn!" said Vard. "And you will do well to heed the warning! You are playing with fire--take care that it does not consume you!"

Pachmann conquered his emotion by a supreme effort.

"It is foolish to talk in that way," he said. "It is foolish to speak of deception and betrayal. There is no question of either. But we must move cautiously. We must evade these spies. Even you can see that!"

"Here is my last word," said Vard, more calmly. "We shall reach New York on Tuesday. I will await your answer for twenty-four hours after we have landed. If I have not then received it, I shall consider myself free to act as I think best."

A gleam of triumph flashed in Pachmann's eyes.

"I accept your condition," he said, and with a little ironical bow, rose and left the cabin.