Part 14

We got them on the run and kept them so, driving a wedge right through the centre of their line towards Villet. It was their left wing which suffered this time from the Loina--that was a fateful river for them. We drove them out of Villet itself, and then began the most terrible struggle of the war, for that small town was life or death to them. Three times they took it, and as many times we drove them out again, each time with greater ease, for every hour saw our position improve, as we concentrated our artillery. Then they found that Villet was lost to them for ever; it was a fact that they realised with difficulty.

But, once they did so, the end came quickly. Cut off from Lorif, their only way of escape back to Bornia, they surrendered in masses. The remainder of their army withdrew sullenly towards their frontier. They conducted their retreat in fairly good order.

Had we liked, we could have utterly crushed them, but we refrained from pressing too closely upon their rearguard for two reasons: we did not wish to sacrifice the lives of our troops needlessly, and the Bornians were hopelessly beaten. I daresay it was wrong not to drive them with all our might, I'm sure that the military text-books would say so, but I was only a civilian after all.

I had sent, as soon as we could spare the troops, a column into Garace, that province which had been lost to us for so long.

They met with little opposition, for the Bornian forces there were very scanty and quite without enterprise, or enthusiasm.

Before we had finished there, almost before the beaten remnant had left Lorif, Bornia sued for peace.

*CHAPTER XIV*

Bornia sued for peace; they could do nothing else, for they were hopelessly beaten both by land and sea.

Prince Kleber had been busy with the Bornians on the water, and the _Soctia_ had made a great name for herself; a large number of prizes were now in the harbour of Soctia, and she had successfully carried on a vigorous warfare with the Bornian Navy.

Prince Kleber had done much to facilitate our progress in Garace, especially at Bustelov, where the Bornians were well fortified; it was largely owing to the clever co-operation of the navy that our troops occupied that place without a prolonged siege.

The only time that Rudarlian troops entered Bornia, was the day when peace was declared; then a small number escorted the signatories, for a mile, to their side of the frontier.

So completely were the Bornians beaten that, in spite of the moral support of certain great powers, they accepted our terms at once; well they might, for they were, considering, very moderate: the evacuation of Garace, and a certain sum as war indemnity were the two chief items.

We had no wish to exasperate a badly beaten enemy; nor did we wish to claim territorial aggrandisement beyond the recovery of our one-time province of Garace.

It has always seemed to me to be bad policy to demand too much from a beaten adversary, excepting when that enemy is dangerous to the peace of the world, or, indeed, of your nation; for, unless the necessity is great, a beaten opponent should be treated with consideration. But there are cases, no doubt, when it is expedient to destroy completely a nation's power to do harm in the future.

It seemed that, with the end of the war, a better understanding at once began between the two countries; perhaps the fighting was like the old-fashioned remedy of blood-letting.

It is impossible to describe the feelings of joy and pride with which I thought of Rudarlia and the Rudarlians; they had proved themselves so splendid, and now that the war had been carried to a successful conclusion I hoped that economic conditions would begin to improve and the prosperity of the country be assured.

I will confess to certain day-dreams in that respect, and obtained quite a lot of pleasure from them.

As soon as peace was declared, the inhabitants of Rudarlia began to show their joy; and it was overwhelming, even in the most out-of-the-way villages the poorest of the people held marvellous celebrations.

I think the most trying time of my whole life was during my visits to all parts of Rudarlia. I thought that I should never have any pleasure in speaking again, for in every corner of my country it was thought necessary to hand me addresses.

In Garace, the people were almost crazy with joy at having thrown off the Bornian bonds, and being under the Rudarlian flag again.

Although this time was, as I have said, most trying, yet it was inspiring and certainly satisfactory; I defy even the most cold-blooded person to listen to a nation's cheers, without feeling a deep glow of pleasure. I, personally, do not attempt to deny that it pleased me, for it meant that I had made good.

A great number of months passed before the nation settled down to their normal lives; and the time of the officials, from King to Mayor, was taken up in the many duties that fell upon them.

Perhaps the most hard-worked people of all were the doctors and nurses, for the hospitals were full, and I would not have any man turned away without being absolutely cured of his wounds, if such a thing were possible. Those whose wounds rendered them unfit for further military service received a plot of land, or, if they chose, a sum of money.

Then there were the honours and rewards to be settled, the various recompenses for farms and homesteads destroyed in the war, and a thousand and one things beside.

Upon Carruthers, who had been of incalculable value to us through his airwork, I bestowed the Cross of Rudarlia, an honour of which he was intensely proud, in spite of his assurances to the contrary. Much as I should have liked him to stop in Rudarlia, I did not press him when he came to bid me good-bye, for I knew that he would have his work cut out to explain matters to the authorities in England. I was convinced, however, that he would do it quite successfully, for he had a most engaging way of getting himself out of scrapes.

General von Quarovitch had received a substantial grant from the Government to enable him to uphold his new rank, for I had made him Count. He was also given a command of more importance than the frontier, and so he was often in Karena. In fact, he was now as much sought after as before he had been neglected; but he took his sudden popularity very grimly, which caused me huge enjoyment. His treatment of the fair sex was a never failing source of delight; they called him bearish, but devoted themselves to him.

I had also made Woolgast a Count, and I do not think that there were many to sneer at his new rank. He had quite recovered from the wound given him by Alexis; and was now, as usual, always at my side.

He was a man who never asked for any favour, either for himself or his family; he was as devoted to me as anyone could be, and it was his delight to accompany me in command of the escort wherever I went. I always made a point of taking an escort of my regiment of guards, for I believed the people loved to see the white and gold of their uniforms, and to know that their King rode or drove among them with regal pomp and glory. The Rudarlians, in that respect, were rather barbaric in their tastes; and yet, I am not sure that it is not a good thing to keep alive the love of show, I believe it really brightens the lives of the people, who so often live in dull monotony. I myself confess to a certain quickening of the pulses at sight of martial pomp, and also when I hear the jingling music of a cavalry regiment. There is something fine and inspiring in the sight of a number of men splendidly upright and strong, moving together as though one man, and to realise that they are prepared to give their lives for an ideal--for the love of country is nothing else. I have heard it said that an ideal will move men to acts of greater heroism than any fact; it may be so, but I always look upon an ideal as a mental fact in itself, so I can hardly argue the point.

I shall never forget the first time I dined privately after the war. There were just four of us, my mother, Prince Zeula, Mr. Neville, and myself, and we had old Bauen up to wait upon us. I wanted to feel absolutely free to say what I would without feeling that there might be one of the servants listening.

It was quite like old times, yet not so very old, only a few years, but years so full of incident that each seemed to have multiplied itself by ten. In those few years I had changed from a boy into a man, from a commoner into a king; and it may safely be surmised that such changes must have a considerable effect on anyone.

They were rich years for me to look back upon and so full of mental, and perhaps moral wealth, that I was almost fearful of their effect upon me. I was afraid that I should lose my youth before the time, that manhood's cares would sap the joy of life within me, and, by so doing, injure the power I had to feel and sympathise with the many defects in human nature.

My mother, to whom I had spoken of this, agreed that it might be so with some people, but not in my case. A remark which was so intensely human in its mother feeling, that I laughed and said no more.

This dinner _a quatre_ was very enjoyable. We seemed to forget for a while that we were really people of importance in our world, and we laughed and joked with all the old-time zest, and perhaps more; never since my accession had we been so gay and cheerful. Zeula, who seemed to grow younger each month, had a wonderful collection of anecdotes, and his wit was great.

We might have been a party on the stage playing some clever farce, for the conversation never flagged, and even I was witty, which was unusual, since I have never possessed real gifts in that line, although I have, thank God, a sense of humour.

It did me good to look at the three faces I loved so well, and listen to the conversation, noting the difference in their trends of thought.

Zeula, brilliant, polished.

Mr. Neville, dry, rather caustic.

My mother, intensely feminine.

They made, however, a very good combination, and a subject was dissected very thoroughly by the three.

Towards the end of the meal, the topics of conversation became more personal, bearing more directly on the future of Rudarlia.

It was at this point that I began to feel a rather comic uneasiness, for my instinct told me that before long some remark would lead up to the subject of my marriage, and I knew that Zeula would be responsible for it, as he was wrapped up in the subject.

I was not mistaken, for he made a remark about a King without heirs. My mother glanced at me quickly. I deliberately winked at Mr. Neville, who laughed outright.

"So, Prince," said I, "you have thrown your bomb."

"I awaited a fitting opportunity, your Majesty."

"Pray forget ceremony," murmured my mother.

"Then, Mr. Smith," said I, with a grimace, "you have given me indigestion."

"I did not ask you to bolt your food, Victor."

"Meaning?"

"That there is no particular hurry."

"For a week or two," chimed in Mr. Neville, and set us all laughing.

Although we laughed at first, it was only at first, for the question was an extremely important one, both for myself and Rudarlia. I knew that it was imperative that I should marry, and I also realised that the time had come to think seriously about it, and incidentally to find the wife.

"I understand that my position is one of some uncertainty, that you wish me to marry and have heirs, but the question which puzzles me is, who am I to marry?"

"There will not be any difficulty in that, Victor."

"And yet I do not see in which direction to look, for I can hardly hope, as King of a small kingdom like Rudarlia, to ally myself with any of the great powers."

"Perhaps you have already thought of some one; I confess that I find it difficult myself."

"Yes, I have thought of one. It will most probably come as a great surprise when you hear where I propose to look for a wife, but I have looked at the question from every point of view, and it seems to me that I had better marry a Princess of--Bornia."

As I had surmised, the suggestion surprised them; I do not think the possibility of it had once struck them. They were silent for some little time as though pondering on what I had said, only Mr. Neville looked at me quizzically, my mother and Zeula keeping their eyes turned from mine. The latter was the first to speak:

"I had not thought of that, Victor; will you tell us your reasons?"

"Oh yes, I have thought a great deal about our relations with our late foe, and it seems to me that such a marriage as I suggest would do much to remove the bitterness that there undoubtedly is between the two nations. That is my first reason. The second is, that if all the Bornian Princesses married Germans or Austrians, as the odds are they would, there would be endless friction between our nations, whereas, if I marry one of them, the influence will not be so one-sided. My third reason is not so realisable, but it may come true. It is an imaginary condition which circumstances may bring about, therefore it can hardly be looked upon as a real reason, and I was wrong to so describe it; I will, however, tell you that it was a dream which united the two kingdoms under one monarch. There is little real difference between the two races, and who knows what the future may bring forth?"

"Two of your reasons are excellent, Victor, and the third is within the range of possibilities."

"Have you seen photographs of the Bornian Princesses?" asked Mr. Neville.

"Very indifferent ones, and without knowing one from the other."

"And which do you propose offering your hand to?"

"I do not know yet, I therefore suggest that a trip to Bornia would be an admirable thing, so that I may see them first."

"Eh?"

"Yes, the week after next I propose going for a walking tour through Garace, and will visit Sonale. I shall not be known in Bornia's capital--I will shave off my moustache. I shall have a good time, ascertain the public feeling towards the said Princesses, also I shall see them."

"That sounds quite an attractive programme," said Mr. Neville, smiling. "May I ask whether it is your intention to go alone?"

"Not if I can induce you to accompany me. If you will, my mother's mind will be made easy, Prince Zeula will not insist upon a regiment in mufti accompanying me, and I--well, you know that I shall be pleased."

"I will go with the greatest pleasure."

"Then we will call it settled."

"Do you think it wise, Victor?" asked my mother.

"It may not be the essence of wisdom, yet it will give me a little feeling of romance."

Zeula laughed.

"Will you carry a lute with you to serenade the Princesses, and a shield with a flaming heart as device?"

"Make the musical instrument a lyre, it would most probably serve a fuller purpose," said I, "but I daresay you all realise and understand what I mean, and if you don't I am ashamed of you."

"Of course we do; but never forget to go out without your revolver, there is more than one Goltz in the world."

"That was a lesson I have not forgotten, nor do I wish it repeated; and, to get away from unpleasant topics, would you all like a game of bridge?"

We played two rubbers; my partner and I did not score a game.

"Remembering the old saying, you ought to be very lucky in love," said Mr. Neville.

*CHAPTER XV*

Mr. Neville and I were enjoying ourselves immensely. We were both glad to be relieved from the cares and worries of Court ceremonies; both glad of a holiday; pleased to be able to tramp through the dusty lanes, free to sleep where we would, eat and drink what and when we felt inclined.

We talked of everything while tramping, or resting, as the case might be, with the sky blue above us, or heavy with great masses of cloud; and breathed in the fresh buoyant air of the Garacian mountains, or the warmer, milder air of the valleys; and forgot, or pretended to, for a little while, that we were people who mattered.

I daresay we both talked too much; perhaps all we said was not of the wisest; but, unfettered, we chatted like schoolboys. I doubt if there was ever so perfect a companion as Mr. Neville: he seemed to know exactly the mood you were in, and to be able to broach a subject of conversation suited to it.

Of my marriage, or rather the idea of it, we spoke but little. From what I told him, he gathered that my mind was made up on the point that I must marry, and the sooner the better.

Garace was a magnificent province; and visiting it as we did gave us a very clear idea of why the Rudarlians had been so pleased at its recovery.

Wherever we went, the fields and pastures gave evidence of great fertility; they were well watered, too; but the roads were terribly bad, and one could well understand that the farmers found great difficulty in handling their produce. It struck us that the Bornians had no particular reason to boast of the way they had governed the province.

It had not been my intention to waste all the time we were on our holiday, and so Mr. Neville and I made many notes, and discussed many plans dealing with the country through which we passed. Then at night we went carefully over these, and gave them fuller discussion before finally sending them to Karena.

The Minister to whom they were sent was thankful enough for any assistance in what was rather an arduous task.

We had been ten days on our wanderings before we reached Bornia, and then by a terribly bad road over the mountains. We slept out that night, and the next day dined at Stranz, a little town two or three miles from the frontier. I should say we ate there, since the only food available was castradina--the smoked mutton which the peasants love--a coarse white cheese, and cakes or loaves of maize. Plain, very plain; food, but not a dinner.

Had we walked any distance that morning, we should no doubt have been ready to declare the eatables fit for a king; but, as it was, we had only progressed two or three miles. A delightfully mossy bank by the side of a little mountain stream had enticed us to sit and sit, and keep on sitting, or rather sprawling; hour after hour we had sat there talking and smoking, until we decided that we had lazed long enough, and sauntered down to the so-called inn. I remember we chaffed each other about want of appetite.

Having paid an exorbitant sum for a practically uneaten meal, we refilled our pipes, and went out again into the sunshine.

Stranz boasted of one street, with some two hundred houses in all; the sun, blazing down on the white walls of these, tired the eyes, especially as every movement of one's feet caused a cloud of dust to ascend. At the end of the street farthest from the inn stood the church, and I went in to say a few words to the priest and leave a small sum with him to be spent in charity.

The worthy man would, I know, have liked me to stay a while with him, to discuss everyday affairs; but it was time for us to be moving on, so I said good-bye and stepped out to Mr. Neville.

I found him staring down the road at two figures on horseback who were approaching at a good pace.

"Shall we stay and see them go past, Victor?"

"Yes, they may be interesting."

In a few minutes they passed, a lady and her groom; that was all I had time to notice, for I was more interested in the horses than their riders. They could not have been more than two lengths away from where we were standing, when from the other end of the street came a crowd of people yelling terribly. The hurricane of cries frightened the lady's horse, which reared, slipped, and came down; the groom's horse became unmanageable, got the bit between its teeth and bolted.

Through the dust we could see the crowd of men, women, and children flying towards us, and after them a single man foaming at the mouth.

"My God, he's mad!" said Mr. Neville.

The crowd scattered in every direction, some through open doorways, some even through windows, all scrambling and pushing to get out of the way of this terrible being. As he came nearer, I could see that he was dressed as a gentleman, and that he carried a rapier in his hand. A moment later he used it, for a child, terrified, ran across the road, the madman lunged in passing, and the poor little thing fell into the gutter.

We had been so amazed at the suddenness of this scene that we had remained standing where we were. The street was empty now, save for the lady who was standing horrified in the middle of the road, the fallen horse, the still, small body in the gutter, the madman, and ourselves.

Perhaps the wounding of the child had caused the madman to pause in his mad rush, for now, bent almost double, he was creeping towards the still motionless figure of the lady, who suddenly turned, and with a little scream of fear ran towards us.

Her face was white, and her two dark eyes were turned imploringly to us, as though she knew that we could save her from this awful man.

At the same moment both Mr. Neville and I jumped forward to bar his way. I carried a stout stick, Mr. Neville had none; luckily the man lunged at me, for I was enabled to turn his point with my stick. Over the madman's face there stole a look of really malevolent cunning. I believe, then, he fancied in his poor, disordered mind that he was fighting a duel.

"Careful, Victor!" I heard Mr. Neville say.

"All right, I am going to try to disarm him; be ready to seize him if I succeed."

I spoke in English, so that the man, even if he had any glimmering of reason, would in all probability not understand.

It was quite extraordinary to me that any man as mad as he could fight with so much skill; perhaps the madness lent him additional craftiness, but he must have been a fine swordsman when sane. As it was, he gave me more to do than any man I have ever fought with, and more than once came near wounding me; but I got him into the position I wanted and disarmed him, his sword flying through the window of a house near by.

As the weapon left his hand, Mr. Neville's arms were round him, and in a few seconds he was bound and helpless.

My first thought was for the child; he was not dead, but the rapier had inflicted a nasty wound in his shoulder. However, as he was in the capable hands of his mother, who evidently possessed the knowledge of how to treat wounds of the less serious nature, I turned away relieved.

I found the lady by my side, and one of the most musical voices that I have ever heard gave me thanks.

"Ah, monsieur, how can I ever thank you and your friend enough?"

I felt that I was blushing furiously--quite ridiculously--why, I have no idea, as it was not common to me. My companion told me afterwards that I stammered like a schoolboy and looked as awkward.

"Madame--mademoiselle----"

"Not both, monsieur, only the latter."

"Mademoiselle, it was nothing, there was little danger to me."

"It was the bravest deed I have ever seen, in spite of your desire to belittle it, and I thank you again."

Until now I had not really looked at her, but my mind seemed to clear suddenly, and I knew her rather than saw her. I find it hard to recall my first impressions, I realised that strictly speaking she was not beautiful, yet she was beautiful. Whether it was the expression, or subtle emanations from a beautiful soul, I cannot say, but that is what I think. I was absorbed, confused by the strength of her personality. I do not suppose it would affect all people in the same way, perhaps it answered to similar strata in my own.

It was with an effort that I returned to what had occurred, and to what she had said.

"Mademoiselle, I belittled it, as I have the advantage of being a good swordsman. My companion, who stood by unarmed, was far more worthy of commendation."