Chapter 3

"If in pledging it I am asked to do nothing to discredit my office. I am not an independent individual,"--smiling to put her more at ease. (I haven't the least doubt that I would have committed any sort of folly had she required it of me.)

"You have my word, sir, that you will be asked to do nothing dishonorable. On the other hand, you will confer a great favor upon her Highness, who is in deep trouble and is seeking a way to escape it."

"Command me," said I promptly.

"Her Highness is being forced into marriage with a man who is old enough to be her grandfather. She holds him in horror, and will go to any length to make this marriage an impossibility. For my part, I have tried to convince her of the futility of resisting her royal uncle's will." (Sensible little Britisher!) "What she is about to do will be known only to four persons, one of whom is a downright rascal."

"A rascal?" slipped my lips, half-unconsciously. "I trust that I haven't given you that impression," I added eagerly. (A rascal? The plot was thickening to formidable opaqueness.)

"No, no!" she cried hastily, with a flash of summer on her lips. (What is more charming than an English woman with a clear sense of the humorous?) "You haven't given me that impression at all."

"Thank you." My vanity expanded under the genial warmth of this knowledge. It was quite possible that she looked upon me favorably.

"To proceed. There is to be a kind of mock marriage here to-night, and you are to witness it." She watched me sharply.

I frowned.

"Patience! Not literally a mock marriage, but the filling out of a bogus certificate."

"I do not understand at all."

"You have heard of Hermann Steinbock, a cashiered officer?"

"Yes. I understand that he is the rascal to whom you refer."

"Well, this certificate is to be filled out completely. To outwit the duke, her Highness commits--"

"A forgery."

"It is a terrible thing to do, but she has gone too far to withdraw now. She is to become the wife of Hermann Steinbock. She wishes to show the certificate to the duke."

"But the banns have not been made public."

"That does not matter."

"But why detain me?" I was growing restless. It was all folly, and no good would come of it.

"It is necessary that a gentleman should be present. The caretaker is not a gentleman. I have said that Steinbock is a rascal. As I review the events, I begin to look upon your arrival as timely. Steinbock is not a reliable quantity."

"I begin to perceive."

"He is to receive one thousand crowns for his part in the ceremony; then he is to leave the country."

"But the priest's signature, the notary's seal, the iron-clad formalities which attend all these things!" I stammered.

"You will recollect that her Highness is a princess of the blood. Seldom is she refused anything in Barscheit." She went to a small secretary and produced a certificate, duly sealed and signed. There lacked nothing but Steinbock's name.

"But the rascal will boast about it! He may blackmail all of you. He may convince the public that he has really married her Highness."

"I thank not. We have not moved in this blindly. Steinbock we know to have forged the name of the minister of finance. We hold this sword above his head. And if he should speak or boast of it, your word would hold greater weight than his. Do you understand now?"

"Yes, I understand. But I believe that I am genuinely sorry to have blundered into this castle to-night."

"Oh, if you lack courage!"--carelessly.

I laughed. "I am not afraid of twenty Steinbocks."

Her laughter echoed mine. "Come, Mr.--by the way, I believe I do not know your name."

"Warrington--Arthur Warrington."

"That is a very good English name, and a gentleman possessing it will never leave two women in a predicament like this. You will understand that we dare not trust any one at court. Relative to her Highness, the duke succeeds in bribing all."

"But a rascal like Steinbock!"

"I know,"--a bit wearily.

"It is pardonable to say that I believe her Highness has been very foolish."

The girl made a gesture which conceded this fact. "It is too late to retreat, as I have told you. Steinbock is already on the way. We must trust him. But you?"

"After all, what does a consulate amount to?"

This seemed to be answer enough. She extended her hand in a royal fashion. I took it in one of mine, bent and kissed it respectfully. Apparently she had expected the old-fashioned handshake familiar to our common race, for I observed that she started as my lips came into contact with the back of her hand. As for me, when my lips touched the satin flesh I knew that it was all over.

"Your Highness!" she called.

The princess returned. She looked at me with a mixture of fierceness and defiance, humility and supplication. I had always supposed her to be a sort of hobbledehoy; instead, she was one of those rare creatures who possess all the varying moods of the sex. I could readily imagine all the young fellows falling violently in love with her; all the young fellows save one. I glanced furtively at the Honorable Betty.

"He knows all?" asked her Highness, her chin tilted aggressively.

"Everything."

"What must you think of me?" There was that in her Highness' tone which dared me to express any opinion that was not totally complimentary.

"I am not sufficiently well-born to pass an opinion upon your Highness' actions," I replied, with excusable irony.

"Excellent!" she exclaimed. "I have grown weary of sycophants. You are not afraid of me at all."

"Not in the slightest degree," I declared.

"You will not regret what you are about to do. I can make it very pleasant for you in Barscheit--or very unpleasant." But this threatening supplement was made harmless by the accompanying smile.

"May I offer the advice of rather a worldly man?"

"Well?"

"When Steinbock comes bid him go about his business."

The Honorable Betty nodded approvingly, but her Highness shrugged.

"Since you are decided,"--and I bowed. "Now, what time does this fellow put in his appearance?"

Her Highness beamed upon the Honorable Betty. "I like the way he says 'this fellow'; it reassures me. He is due at nine o'clock; that is to say, in half an hour. I will give you these directions. I do not wish Steinbock to know of your presence here. You will hide in the salon, close to the portières, within call. Moreover, I shall have to impose upon you the disagreeable duty of playing the listener. Let nothing escape your ear or your eye. I am not certain of this fellow Steinbock, though I hold a sword above his head."

"But where are your men?" I asked.

She smiled. "There is no one here but Leopold."

"Your Highness to meet Steinbock alone?"

"I have no fear of him; he knows who I am."

"Everything shall be done as you wish." I secretly hoped I might have the opportunity to punch Steinbock's head.

"Thank you." The transition of her moods always left me in wonder. "Play something; it is impossible to talk." She perched herself on the broad arm of the Honorable Betty's chair, and her arm rested lightly but affectionately on her shoulder.

It was something for a man to gain the confidence, in so short a time, of two such women. I felt as brave as Bavard. So I sat down before the piano and played. My two accomplishments are horseback riding and music, and I candidly tell you that I am as reckless at one as at the other. I had a good memory. I played something from Chaminade, as her fancies are always airy and agreeable and unmelancholy. I was attacking _The Flatterer_ when her Highness touched my arm.

"Hark!"

We all listened intently. The sound of beating hoofs came distinctly. A single horseman was galloping along the highway toward the castle. The sound grew nearer and nearer; presently it ceased. I rose quietly.

"It is time I hid myself, for doubtless this rider is the man."

The princess paled for a moment, while her companion nervously plucked at the edges of her handkerchief.

"Go," said the former; "and be watchful."

I then took up my position behind the portières. Truly I had stumbled into an adventure; but how to stumble out again? If the duke got wind of it, it would mean my recall, and I was of a mind, just then, that I was going to be particularly fond of Barscheit.

All was silent. A door closed, and then came the tread of feet. I peered through the portières shortly to see the entrance of two men, one of whom was the old caretaker. His companion was a dark, handsome fellow, of Hungarian gipsy type. There was a devil-may-care air about him that fitted him well. It was Steinbock. He was dressed with scrupulous care, in spite of the fact that he wore riding clothes. It is possible that he recognized the importance of the event. One did not write one's name under a princess' signature every day, even in mockery. There was a half-smile on his face that I did not like.

"Your Highness sees that I am prompt,"--uncovering.

"It is well. Let us proceed at once to conclude the matter in hand," she said.

"Wholly at your service!"

(Hang the fellow's impudence! How dared he use that jovial tone?)

I heard the crackle of parchment. The certificate was being unfolded. (It occurred to me that while she was about it the princess might just as well have forged the rascal's name and wholly dispensed with his services. The whole affair struck me as being ineffective; nothing would come of it. If she tried to make the duke believe that she had married Steinbock, her uncle would probe the matter to the bottom, and in the end cover her with ridicule. But you can not tell a young woman anything, when she is a princess and in the habit of having her own way. It is remarkable how stupid clever women can be at times. The Honorable Betty understood, but her Highness would not be convinced. Thus she suffered this needless affront. Pardon this parenthesis, but when one talks from behind a curtain the parenthesis is the only available thing.) There was silence. I saw Steinbock poise the pen, then scribble on the parchment. It was done. I stirred restlessly.

"There!" cried Steinbock. His voice did not lack a certain triumph. "And now for the duplicate!"

Her Highness stuffed the document into the bosom of her dress. "There will be no duplicate." The frigidity of her tones would have congealed the blood of an ordinary rascal. But Steinbock was not ordinary.

"But suppose the duke comes to me for verification?" he reasoned.

"You will be on the other side of the frontier. Here are your thousand crowns."

The barb of her contempt penetrated even his thick epidermis. His smile hardened.

"I was once a gentleman; I did not always accept money for aiding in shady transactions."

"Neither your sentiments nor your opinions are required. Now, observe me carefully," continued her Highness. "I shall give you twenty-four hours to cross the frontier in any direction you choose. If after that time you are found in Barscheit, I promise to hand you over to the police."

"It has been a great day," said the rascal, with a laugh. "A thousand crowns!"

I separated the portières an inch. He stood at the side of the piano, upon which he leaned an elbow. He was certainly handsome, much sought after by women of a low class. The princess stood at Steinbock's left and the Honorable Betty at his right, erect, their faces expressing nothing, so forced was the repose.

"I never expected so great an honor. To wed a princess, when that princess is your Highness! Faith, it is fine!"

"You may go at once," interrupted her Highness, her voice rising a key. "Remember, you have only twenty-four hours between you and prison. You waste valuable time."

"What! you wish to be rid of me so soon? Why, this is the bridal night. One does not part with one's wife at this rate."

Leopold, the caretaker, made a warning gesture.

"Come, Leopold, I must have my jest," laughed Steinbock.

"Within certain bounds," returned the old man phlegmatically. "It is high time you were off. You are foolhardy to match your chances with justice. Prison stares you in the face."

"Bah! Do you believe it?"

"It is a positive fact," added the princess.

"But to leave like this has the pang of death!" Steinbock remonstrated, "What! shall I be off without having even kissed the bride?"

"The bargain is concluded on all sides; you have your thousand crowns."

"But not love's tribute. I must have that. It is worth a thousand crowns. Besides," with a perceptible change in his manner, "shall I forget the contempt with which you have always looked upon me, even in the old days that were fair and prosperous? Scarcely! Opportunity is a thing that can not be permitted to pass thus lightly." Then I observed his nose wrinkle; he was sniffing. "Tobacco! I did not know that you smoked, Leopold."

"Begone!" cried the old fellow, his hands opening and shutting.

"Presently!" With a laugh he sprang toward her Highness, but Leopold was too quick for him.

There was a short struggle, and I saw the valiant old man reel, fall and strike his head on the stone of the hearth. He lay perfectly motionless. So unexpected was this scene to my eyes that for a time I was without any particular sense of movement. I stood like stone. With an evil laugh Steinbock sprang toward her Highness again. Quick as light she snatched up my crop, which lay on the table, and struck the rascal full across the eyes, again and again and again, following him as he stepped backward. Her defense was magnificent. But, as fate determined to have it, Steinbock finally succeeded in wresting the stick from her grasp. He was wild with pain and chagrin. It was then I awoke to the fact that I was needed.

I rushed out, hot with anger. I caught Steinbock by the collar just in time to prevent his lips from touching her cheek. I flung him to the floor, and knelt upon his chest. I am ashamed to confess it, but I recollect slapping the fellow's face as he struggled under me.

"You scoundrel!" I cried, breathing hard.

"Kill him!" whispered her Highness. She was furious; the blood of her marauding ancestors swept over her cheeks, and if ever I saw murder in a woman's eyes it was at that moment.

"Hush, Hildegarde, hush!" The English girl caught the princess in her arms and drew her back. "Don't let me hear you talk like that. It is all over."

"Get up," I said to Steinbock, as I set him free.

He crawled to his feet. He was very much disordered, and there were livid welts on his face. He shook himself, eying me evilly. There was murder in his eyes, too.

"Empty your pockets of those thousand crowns!"--peremptorily.

"I was certain that I smelled tobacco," he sneered. "It would seem that there are other bridegrooms than myself."

"Those crowns, or I'll break every bone in your body!" I balled my fists. Nothing would have pleased me better at that moment than to pummel the life out of him.

Slowly he drew out the purse. It was one of those limp silk affairs so much affected by our ancestors. He balanced it on his hand. Its ends bulged with gold and bank-notes. Before I was aware of his intention, he swung one end of it in so deft a manner that it struck me squarely between the eyes. With a crash of glass he disappeared through the window. The blow dazed me only for a moment, and I was hot to be on his tracks. The Honorable Betty stopped me.

"He may shoot you!" she cried. "Don't go!"

Although half through the window, I crawled back, brushing my sleeves. Something warm trickled down my nose.

"You have been cut!" exclaimed her Highness.

"It is nothing. I beg of you to let me follow. It will be all over with that fellow at large."

"Not at all." Her Highness' eyes sparkled wickedly. "He will make for the nearest frontier. He knows now that I shall not hesitate a moment to put his affairs in the hands of the police."

"He will boast of what he has done."

"Not till he has spent those thousand crowns." She crossed the room and knelt at the side of Leopold, dashing some water into his face. Presently he opened his eyes. "He is only stunned. Poor Leopold!"

I helped the old man to his feet, and he rubbed the back of his head grimly. He drew a revolver from his pocket.

"I had forgotten all about it," he said contritely. "Shall I follow him, your Highness?"

"Let him go. It doesn't matter now. Betty, you were right, as you always are. I have played the part of a silly fool. I _would_ have my own way in the matter. Well, I have this worthless paper. At least I can frighten the duke, and that is something."

"Oh, my dear, if only you would have listened to my advice!" the other girl said. There was deep discouragement in her tones. "I warned you so often that it would come to this end."

"Let us drop the matter entirely," said her Highness.

I gazed admiringly at her--to see her sink suddenly into a chair and weep abandonedly! Leopold eyed her mournfully, while the English girl rushed to her side and flung her arms around her soothingly.

"I am very unhappy," said the princess, lifting her head and shaking the tears from her eyes. "I am harassed on all sides; I am not allowed any will of my own. I wish I were a peasant!--Thank you, thank you! But for you that wretch would have kissed me." She held out her hand to me, and I bent to one knee as I kissed it. She was worthy to be the wife of the finest fellow in all the world. I was very sorry for her, and thought many uncomplimentary things of the duke.

"I shall not ask you to forget my weakness," she said.

"It is already forgotten, your Highness."

Under such circumstances I met the Princess Hildegarde of Barscheit; and I never betrayed her confidence until this writing, when I have her express permission.

Of Hermann Steinbock I never saw anything more. Thus the only villain passes from the scene. As I have repeatedly remarked, doubtless to your weariness, this is not my story at all; but in parenthesis I may add that between the Honorable Betty Moore and myself there sprang up a friendship which later ripened into something infinitely stronger.

This, then, was the state of affairs when, one month later, Max Scharfenstein poked his handsome blond head over the frontier of Barscheit; cue (as the dramatist would say), enter hero.

IV

He came straight to the consulate, and I was so glad to see him that I sat him down in front of the sideboard and left orders that I was at home to no one. We had been class-mates and room-mates at college, and two better friends never lived. We spent the whole night in recounting the good old days, sighed a little over the departed ones, and praised or criticized the living. Hadn't they been times, though? The nights we had stolen up to Philadelphia to see the shows, the great Thanksgiving games in New York, the commencements, and all that!

Max had come out of the far West. He was a foundling who had been adopted by a wealthy German ranchman named Scharfenstein, which name Max assumed as his own, it being as good as any. Nobody knew anything about Max's antecedents, but he was so big and handsome and jolly that no one cared a hang. For all that he did not know his parentage, he was a gentleman, something that has to be bred in the bone. Once or twice I remember seeing him angry; in anger he was arrogant, deadly, but calm. He was a god in track-linen, for he was what few big men are, quick and agile. The big fellow who is cat-like in his movements is the most formidable of athletes. One thing that invariably amused me was his inordinate love of uniforms. He would always stop when he saw a soldier or the picture of one, and his love of arms was little short of a mania. He was an expert fencer and a dead shot besides. (Pardon the parenthesis, but I feel it my duty to warn you that nobody fights a duel in this little history, and nobody gets killed.)

On leaving college he went in for medicine, and his appearance in the capital city of Barscheit was due obviously to the great medical college, famous the world over for its nerve specialists. This was Max's first adventure in the land of gutturals. I explained to him, and partly unraveled, the tangle of laws; as to the language, he spoke that, not like a native, but as one.

Max was very fond of the society of women, and at college we used to twit him about it, for he was always eager to meet a new face, trusting that the new one might be the ideal for which he was searching.

"Well, you old Dutchman," said I, "have you ever found that ideal woman of yours?"

"Bah!"--lighting a pipe. "She will never be found. A horse and a trusty dog for me; those two you may eventually grow to understand. Of course I don't say, if the woman came along--the right one--I mightn't go under, I'm philosopher enough to admit that possibility. I want her tall, hair like corn-silk, eyes like the cornflower, of brilliant intellect, reserved, and dignified, and patient. I want a woman, not humorous, but who understands humor, and I have never heard of one. So, you see, it's all smoke; and I never talk woman these times unless I'm smoking,"--with a gesture which explained that he had given up the idea altogether. "A doctor sees so much of women that he finally sees nothing of woman."

"Oh, if you resort to epigrams, I can see that it's all over."

"All over. I'm so used to being alone that I shouldn't know what to do with a wife." He puffed seriously.

Ah! the futility of our desires, of our castles, of our dreams! The complacency with which we jog along in what we deem to be our own particular groove! I recall a girl friend of my youth who was going to be a celibate, a great reformer, and toward that end was studying for the pulpit. She is now the mother of several children, the most peaceful and unorative woman I know. You see, humanity goes whirring over various side-tracks, thinking them to be the main line, till fate puts its peculiar but happy hand to the switch. Scharfenstein had been plugging away over rusty rails and grass-grown ties--till he came to Barscheit.

"Hope is the wings of the heart," said I, when I thought the pause had grown long enough. "You still hope?"

"In a way. If I recollect, you had an affair once,"--shrewdly.

I smoked on. I wasn't quite ready to speak.

"You were always on the hunt for ideals, too, as I remember; hope you'll find her."

"Max, my boy, I am solemnly convinced that I have."

"Good Lord, you don't mean to tell me that you are _hooked_?" he cried.

"I see no reason why you should use that particular tone," I answered stiffly.

"Oh, come now; tell me all about it. Who is she, and when's the wedding?"

"I don't know when the wedding's going to be, but I'm mighty sure that I have met the one girl. Max, there never was a girl like her. Witty she is, and wise; as beautiful as a summer's dawn; merry and brave; rides, drives, plays the 'cello, dances like a moon-shadow; and all that,"--with a wave of the hand.

"You've got it bad. Remember how you used to write poetry at college? Who is she, if I may ask?"

"The Honorable Betty Moore, at present the guest of her Highness, the Princess Hildegarde,"--with pardonable pride.

Max whistled. "You're a lucky beggar. One by one we turn traitor to our native land. A Britisher! I never should have believed it of you, of the man whose class declamation was on the fiery subject of patriotism. But is it all on one side?"

"I don't know, Max; sometimes I think so, and then I don't."

"How long have you known her?"

"Little more than a month."

"A month? Everything moves swiftly these days, except European railway cars."

"There's a romance, Max, but another besides her is concerned, and I can not tell you. Some day, when everything quiets down, I'll get you into a corner with a bottle, and you will find it worth while."

"The bottle?"

"Both."