by Louis Tracy
CHAPTER VIII
SHOWING HOW THE KING KEPT HIS APPOINTMENT
Joan's eyes could not leave Alec. She followed each movement of hislithe, strongly knit frame as he and Beaumanoir hauled the heavy piecesof furniture into position behind the door. She was not fully alive asyet to the real menace of the gesticulating mob surging in the streetbeneath, and her thoughts ran riot in the newly discovered paradise ofbeing loved and in love.
For Alec had asked no questions, listened to no explanations. When heentered the room, he found her, half turned from the window, consciousthat he was near, though trying to persuade her throbbing heart thatFelix would not depart from an implied promise by sending him to herwithout warning. She strove to utter some words of greeting. Before shecould speak, Alec's arms were around her, and he was kissing her lips,her forehead, her hair. She saw him as through a mist. Her firstfleeting impression was that he had become older, sterner, morecommanding. Kingship had set its seal on him. A short month of power hadstamped lines on his face that would never vanish. But that sense ofimperiousness was quickly dispelled by the enchantment of her presence.
Somehow, almost without spoken word, he brought the thrilling convictionthat he was hungering for her. The light in his eyes, the overwhelmingardor of his embrace, the magnetic force that leaped the interveningspace while yet they were separated by half the length of theroom,--these things bewildered, charmed, subdued her wholly, and shekindled under them ere her brain could summon to aid the feeblest ofremonstrances.
She abandoned the nebulous idea of protest when she found that she inturn was clinging to him, giving kiss for kiss with a deliriousintensity that refused to be denied. Nevertheless, the sheer joy of heremotions frightened her, and she was endeavoring to subdue its toosensuous expression when Beaumanoir opened the door, to close it againhurriedly. She recovered her faculties slowly. She was still quiveringunder the stress of that moment of ineffable delight, and her brown eyessparkled with the glow of a soul on fire, and she was brought back toearth only by the knowledge that Felix, standing at his post near awindow, was on the verge of collapse.
The sideboard contained a flask of brandy, which Pauline had insisted onstowing in a dressing bag in case of illness. Joan, glad of the pretextto do some commonplace thing, thankful for the mere utterance ofcommonplace words, called for help.
"Please remove the table for an instant," she cried. "Felix is ill, andI want to get at some cognac that is in the cellarette."
"Ill! He was lively enough in the street a minute ago, singing like athrush," said Alec cheerily, though he did not fail to pull the tableclear of the cupboard. "What is it, my Humming Bee?" he demanded,turning to Poluski. "Is it a surfeit of excitement, or late hours, orwhat?"
"I am yielding to the unusual, my King," crackled the Pole's voicethinly. "During three whole days I have done naught but think, and thatwould incommode an elephant, leave alone a rat like me."
"Rat, indeed! When we are all out of this trap, Felix, you must tell mewhat caused your alarming exercise of brain power. Already you havebothered me to guess how you fathomed the pretty scheme you are nowupsetting."
"There, dear Felix, drink that, and you will soon feel strong again,"put in Joan.
"Ha, dear Felix, am I? I expected to be called anything but that afterbreaking my word so disgracefully!"
"You are forgiven," said she with a tender smile at Alec.
Beaumanoir, discreetly peeping through the window over Poluski'sshoulder, saw something that perplexed him.
"I say, Alec," he exclaimed, "I thought you told me that Stampoff's manBosko was a thoroughly reliable sort of chap."
"I have always found him so."
"Well, just at present he looks jolly like a deserter. He is making aspeech to the mob and tearing off his uniform obligato. The other jokeris scared to death."
"Bosko making a speech! Why, he never says anything but '_Oui,monsieur_,' or '_Non, monsieur_,' which is all the French he knows.Well, this is a day of wonders, anyhow."
Neglecting the precautions he had insisted on a minute earlier, Alechimself went to the window and drew Joan with him. There were two otherwindows in the room; but the four clustered in the one deep recess, forthe thick walls of this old building were meant to defy extremes of heatand cold. By this time one of the two orderlies had dismounted and wasstamping on his smart cavalry jacket and plumed shako, thus announcingby eloquent pantomime, that he was discarding forever the livery of atyrant.
The mob in the street was now swollen to unrecognizable dimensions, andAlec's charger, which Bosko was holding, resented the uproar by lashingout viciously with his heels. A man who had narrowly escaped beingkicked drew a revolver, fired, and the spirited Arab fell with a bulletin its brain. The dastardly act was cheered; for the Seventh Regimentremembered that this same white horse had stumbled and thrown KingTheodore on the day of his murder.
"Oh, the coward, the hateful coward!" wailed Joan, and two of the menmuttered expressions of opinion that must be passed over in silence.
But Felix happened to be watching Bosko, and noted the black rage thatconvulsed his face when the Arab dropped dead at his feet. TheAlbanian's feelings mastered him only for an instant.
He began at once to harangue the crowd again, evidently offering to leadhis own horse out of harm's way, and loudly bidding his frightenedcomrade to do likewise.
A path was being cleared when some one looked up at the window, and afierce yell proclaimed the King's presence. Bosko was forgotten. Sightof their quarry had frenzied the pack.
"Down everyone!" cried Alec, bending double and dragging Joan with him.
Several panes of glass were starred with little round holes, mortar fellfrom the ceiling, and the crackle of shots below showed that revolverswere popular in Delgratz. But Felix had seen enough to set his shrewdwits working.
"That man of yours--is Bosko his name?--is no fool," said he, when theyhad crept from the glass strewn area into the shelter of the stout wall."He is gulling your beloved subjects, Alec. He realizes that trouble isbrewing, and he means to steal off and bring help. Fortunately, my braveSobieski will be at the President's house by this time, and your guardsmay arrive before those cutthroats in the street decide to storm thehotel."
"Sobieski--who is he?" asked Alec.
"A waiter in the restaurant. I have pledged you to buy him a cafe inWarsaw if the troops come speedily."
"Make it a brewery, Alec," said Beaumanoir; "these bounders meanbusiness."
A constant fusillade of bullets was now tearing the windows to atoms,and shattering the ceiling on the other side of the room. Lord Adalbertwas justified in offering liberal terms for relief.
The King, standing with one arm thrown round Joan's shoulders, felt thetremors she strove vainly to repress. "Don't be afraid, sweetheart. Theycannot reach us here," he said. "I have one unknown protector, it seems,and I feel sure that Felix is right about Bosko. The only drawback isthat our friendly waiter may find some difficulty in persuading theofficers on duty at Monsieur Nesimir's house that we are in danger. Wemust risk that."
"Oh, to safeguard against delay, I told him to ask for the Prince," saidFelix.
"What Prince?"
"Your father, of course. Ha! Name of a good little gray man! You don'tknow that Prince Michael and your mother are in Delgratz."
"Mark cock!" cried Beaumanoir, as a bullet flew breast high across theroom and imbedded itself in the inner wall. The heroes of the SeventhRegiment were firing from the upper floors of the houses opposite.
Alec did not seem to heed. The look of blank amazement on his faceproved that he had ridden straight from the review ground to theuniversity, whereas a call at the President's house would haveenlightened him.
"It is true, dear," whispered Joan. "They came with us from Paris; inthe same train, that is. We all arrived at Delgratz this morning. Yourmother spoke to me on the platform at Vienna."
He smiled with something of the old careless humor of Paris days. "Isuppose
everything is for the best," he said. "Nothing surprises me now,not even this," and he nodded cheerfully toward the landing and stairs,whence a rush of footsteps and clamor of voices were audible.
The handle of the door was wrenched violently, and shots were fired intothe lock and at the panels; but the wood was seasoned and stanch, andnothing short of a rifle would drive a bullet through. The door creakedand strained under the pressure of the mutineers' shoulders. Had it notbeen reinforced by the solid sideboard and equally heavy table, it musthave given way. As it was, no four men in Delgratz could hope to forcean entrance, and no more than four could attack it simultaneously.
It was noteworthy that no one called on the King to come out. Thesehirelings, enraged against a ruler who had brought to the Danube a newevangel of justice and uprightness, of honest government and cleanhanded service to the State, made no pretense of requesting a hearingfor their grievances. They had planned to shoot him in cold blood whilehe and his three companions were momentarily delayed by the barrier ofthe bullock cart in front of the corner cafe. Balked of this easy meansof attaining their end, they were still sure of success. But their criesand curses were intended only for self encouragement. Not even thebloodstained Seventh Regiment had the effrontery to ask their victim toadmit them.
There was a momentary quieting of their wild beast fury when the doorresisted their utmost efforts. Joan tried to persuade her tortured mindthat the conspiracy had failed.
"They will not dare to remain," she whispered. "They know thatassistance may arrive at any moment. Listen, they are going now!"
"Are you gentlemen armed?" asked Felix, grimly.
"Yes, with riding whips," said Alec. "For my part, I have refused tocarry any more dangerous weapon; though it is true that I enteredDelgratz with a sword in my hand," he added, remembering with a twingehis imagining of Joan's ready laugh when she heard of Prince Michael'sbrown paper parcel.
"Pity you don't possess a revolver apiece. They would prove useful whenthe panels are broken, which will happen just as soon as these highspirited politicians on the landing secure axes," went on Felixremorselessly.
He wanted Joan to realize the certain fate that awaited her once thedoor gave way. Concealment was useless, and he hoped she would faintbefore the end came.
"What price the leg of a chair?" asked Beaumanoir.
The Pole bent his gleaming gray eyes on the Briton with a curiousunderlook of inquiry. "No, no. We can do better than that. You would beshot before you could strike a blow. Joan, please crawl past the windowand stand upright in the corner close to the wall. You follow, Alec. Igo next, and this young gentleman, who must be Lord Adalbert Beaumanoir,since he has all the outward signs of the British aristocracy, willplace himself near the door. If he does exactly what I tell him, westill have a fighting chance."
The change of position advised by Poluski rendered them safe from theirassailants' bullets until the door was actually off its hinges and thefurniture thrust aside. In the last resort, Alec meant to show himselfat a window and offer a fair target to the men in the houses across thestreet. When he fell the shooting from that quarter would cease. Then,acting on his precise instructions, Beaumanoir and Felix must lift Joanthrough another window and allow her to drop to the pavement. It was notfar. She might escape uninjured, and there was a possibility that themob would spare a woman who was an utter stranger, one in no way mixedup in Kosnovian affairs.
Time enough to take this final step when their defense was forced, andthat would be soon. In all likelihood, he had not much more than aminute to live, and he devoted that minute to Joan.
"Sweetheart," he murmured tenderly, "you saw the beginning of my careeras a King, and it seems that you are fated to see its end. Have youforgotten what Pallas Athene said to Perseus? It is not so long ago,that morning in the Louvre. But why did you run away from Paris? Whyhave you not written? If you knew how I hoped for a word from you! Myheart told me you loved me; but even one's heart likes to be assuredthat it is not mistaken."
He was looking into her eyes. The fantasy seized her that he was able toread her secret soul, and she swept aside any thought of concealment."Alec," she said, "tell me truly, are we in danger of death?"
"I am," he replied simply. It was better so, he thought.
"Then I thank God that I am here to die with you."
He dared not hint that she might escape. "We still have a remotechance," he went on. "Let us talk of ourselves, not of death."
"But I don't want to die, Alec," she whispered brokenly. "I want tolive, dear. I want to live and be your wife. Oh, Alec, let us ask Heavenfor one year of happiness, one short year----" She choked, and thetears so bravely repressed hitherto dimmed her glorious eyes. Herpiteous appeal increased the torment of his impotence. His face grewmarble white beneath the bronze, and he bent in mute agony over herbowed head.
Felix, crouching behind Beaumanoir, assured himself that the King andhis chosen lady were momentarily deaf to all else than the one supremefact that each loved the other. He sighed, and touched the stalwartBeaumanoir's shoulder, which he was just able to reach with upliftedhand.
"Drop on your knees," he said. "I want to tell you something."
"You think it is high time I said my prayers--eh, what?"
Yet the younger man obeyed, since there was a calm authority in thepinched and wrinkled face raised to his that seemed to despise theuproar of the mob. Felix was singularly unmoved by the bestial din. Heevidently cared naught for the continuous shooting from street andhouses, or the renewed outburst on the stairs that welcomed the arrivalof axes and sledge hammers rifled from a neighboring shop.
"Pay heed to what I am going to say," he muttered, bringing his mouthclose to Beaumanoir's ear, "I don't wish Joan or the King to know whatwe are doing. They will be wise after the event, not before, which isoften the better part of wisdom. Have you a steady hand? Will you flinchif I ask you to destroy every man on the other side of that door?"
Beaumanoir twisted his head round and grinned. "If asking will do thetrick, try me!" said he.
Felix took from an inner pocket of his coat a gunmetal cigarcase. Hepressed a spring, and the lid flew open. Inside were four cigar shapedcylinders, each studded with a number of tiny knobs. He withdrew acylinder, and from a small cup in its base obtained six percussion caps,which he proceeded to adjust on the iron nipples.
"My own patent!" he exclaimed, with an air of pride that was grotesqueunder the conditions. "Each cigar is a bomb, warranted to clear anyordinary room of its occupants. It does not discriminate. It willdismember the most exalted personages."
"By gad!" ejaculated Beaumanoir, shrinking away slightly.
Felix pressed closer in his enthusiasm. "The point carrying thedetonators is loaded with lead. If properly handled, it is sure to flywith that end in front. You take it between your thumb and secondfinger, thus, and poise it by placing the tip of the first finger behindit, thus; but you must throw hard, and wait until the upper part of thedoor is smashed, and you can fling it clear, or three ounces of dynamitewill explode in front of your nose, with disastrous effect. I will havea second bomb ready if the first one fails; but it will not."
"By gad!" said Beaumanoir again, gazing at the deadly contrivance as iffascinated by it. He could retreat no farther, being jammed against thesideboard.
"Do you understand?" demanded Felix coolly.
"Perfectly. Is it--er--Russian or Spanish?"
"Neither. I call it the International. Are you ready?"
A thunderous blow shook the door. Another and another fell on lock andhinges.
"Felix!" said Alec, turning from Joan and stooping over the hunchback.
"Don't bother me, I am busy," growled the Pole.
"But we must act. We are done for now, and Joan must be saved. I mean todraw the enemy's fire. When I am hit, you and Beaumanoir must take Joanto the third window over there--take her by force if necessary----"
"My good Alec, at present you are a King without power. Please don'tt
alk nonsense. Keep in your corner, pacify Joan, and leave the rest tome."
"Felix," and Alec's tone grew curt and sharp, "this is no time for jest!Look, you madman, the door is splitting! Is Joan to die, then, to pleaseyour whim? Either attend to me or stand aside!"
Poluski groaned. He was such an amalgam of contrarieties that he hatedthe notion of explaining to a monarch the subtle means he had devisedfor ridding the world of its unpopular rulers. Where Alec was concerned,the bomb ought to remain a trade secret, so to speak. He would not havetrusted even Beaumanoir with its properties had he not known that hisown nerve would fail at the critical moment. For that was FelixPoluski's weakness. He could not use his diabolical invention--ananarchist in theory, in practice he would not harm a fly.
"I think just as much of Joan as you!" he blazed back at the pallid manwhose next step promised to lead to the grave. "I am King here, not you!Keep yourself and Joan out of harm's way, and don't interfere! Standflat against the wall, both of you! Back, I say! There is the firstaxhead! Now you, who were born a lord, be ready to lord it over thesegroundlings!"
He whirled round on Beaumanoir, and Alec saw in his friend's hand someobject, what he could not guess, while Felix carried a similar articlein reserve, as it were. The little man's earnestness was so convincingthat the King could not choose but believe that some scheme that offeredsalvation was in train. But it might fail! The door might be forcedbefore his own desperate alternative could be adopted, and theconsequences to Joan of failure were too horrible to be risked. A panelshivered into splinters and the muzzles of two revolvers frowned throughthe aperture.
"Wait!" bellowed Poluski; for Beaumanoir's hand was raised.
Lord Adalbert did more than wait. With the quickness born of many ahard won victory on the polo ground, his free left hand flew out andgrasped the wrist behind one of the pistols. He pulled fiercely andirresistibly. An arm appeared, and a yell of pain signalized adislocated shoulder.
The weapon exploded harmlessly and fell to the floor. A living stop gapnow plugged the first hole made by the ax wielders, while the writhingbody of their comrade interfered with further operations.
Beaumanoir gave an extra wrench, and his victim howled most dolorously.He slipped the bomb into his coat pocket.
"Pick up that revolver, Alec," he cried. "If it is still loaded it willhelp us to hold the fort."
The King rushed forward, and butted against Beaumanoir in his haste.Felix, whose skin was always sallow, became livid; but nothing happened,and he snatched the bomb from its dangerous resting place. Then he burstinto a paroxysm of hysterical laughter which drowned for an instant anew hubbub in the street.
Alec, hastily examining his prize, found that three chambers wereloaded. He was about to search for a crack in the door through which hecould fire at least one telling shot, when his ear caught the prancingof horses on the paving stones.
Joan, thoroughly enlightened now as to their common peril, had behavedwith admirable coolness since Alec implored her not to stir from thecorner between door and window. She was sure they would all be killed,and her lips moved in fervent prayer that death might be merciful in itshaste; but she was not afraid; that storm of tears had been succeeded bya spiritual exaltation that rescued her from any ignoble panic. Yet hersenses were strained to a tension far more exhausting than the displayof emotion natural to one plunged without warning into the most horribleof the many horrors of civil war, and she had heard, long before theothers, the onrush of cavalry and the stampede of the mob.
So, when her eyes met Alec's, and she saw that questioning look in hisface, she smiled at him with a radiant confidence that was astounding atsuch a moment.
"Heaven has been good to us, dear," she said. "Your soldiers are here.Your enemies are running away. Listen! they are fighting now on thestairs. The unhappy men who raved for our lives will lose their own. Cannothing be done to save them?"
He ran to the window. Those leaden blasts that had swept the room fromthe first floors of the opposite houses had ceased, and not onepotvaliant marksman of them all was to be seen; but the street was fullof hussars, and directly beneath, mounted on an excited horse, Stampoffwas giving furious orders which evidently demanded an energetic stormingof the hotel entrance.
Alec threw open the window and leaned out. "Just in time, old friend!"he cried.
Stampoff heard him and looked up. "God's bones!" he roared. "Here isthe King safe and sound. At them, my children! Dig them out with yoursabers! Don't leave a man alive!"
"Stop!" shouted Alec. "No more slaughter! I forbid it!"
Stampoff wheeled round on his charger and addressed the press ofsoldiers who had been unable to take any part in the street clearing,since the mob broke and fled when the first rank of plumed caps andflashing swords became visible.
"You hear, my children," he vociferated. "Don't harm anybody who doesnot resist. The King's commands must be obeyed."
Joan, of course, could only guess what was being said; but she could notfail to recognize the sounds of conflict on the stairs. Men arestrangely akin to tigers when they see red, and the tiger's roar when hepounces on a victim differs greatly from his own death scream. Alec,powerless to move Stampoff, who believed, rightly, as it transpired,that the ringleaders were foremost in the attack, turned to Beaumanoir.
"Release that fellow," he said. "If I am able to make my voice heardthrough the racket, I can put an end to this butchery."
Beaumanoir let go the arm, and a body fell on the other side of thedoor.
"You are too late, I hope," he said quietly. "My prisoner took the knockjust before you spoke. I felt it run through him. He shook like a ponyunder the spur. And you're wrong, you know. This gang must be clearedout." He peered through the broken panel. "It's all over," he added. "Noflowers, by request."
Felix was peering up at them with his bright crafty eyes. "Queer thing!"he growled. "In my first honest fight I have been on the side oftyranny. If you young gentlemen will be good enough to remove thebarricade and give orders to have the passage cleared, I can go back tothe cup of coffee I left in the restaurant. Meanwhile, Joan must betaken to her room. She is going to faint, and the Lord only knows whathas become of her maid!"
Alec was at Joan's side before Felix had made an end. "You will notbreak down now, sweetheart," he cried. "All danger is over, and, withGod's help, you will never witness such a scene in Delgratz again!"
"I feel tired," she sighed. "I know quite well I am safe, Alec. Somehow,I hardly thought you and I should die to-day. We have things to do inthe world, you and I; but those horrid men frightened me by theirshrieks. It must be awful to pass into the unknown--like that!"
She sighed again. To her strained vision Alec suddenly assumed theaspect of Henri Quatre's gilded statue on the Pont Neuf. It did not seemto be in the least remarkable that the statue should leap from his horseand take her in his arms. She was absolutely happy and content. Shefelt she could rest there awhile in safety.
So, when the door was opened, the King experienced no difficulty incarrying Joan through a scene of bloodshed that would certainly neverhave been blotted from her mind had she remained conscious. Stampoff'scommands had been obeyed, and the place reeked of the shambles; but thegirl was happily as heedless of its nightmare horrors as the thirty-onemen who lay there dead or dying.
Alec bore her out into the street. The sight of him was greeted by asustained cheer from the troops and the loyal citizens who were nowthreatening a riot of curiosity and alarm, since the news had gone roundthat the King was being done to death by a rebellious soldiery in theFuerst Michaelstrasse, and Delgratz was hurrying to the rescue.
Joan, revived a little by the fresh air and bewildered by the shoutingthrong that pressed around the King, opened her eyes. "Where am I?" shewhispered, delightfully ignorant of the fact that she was nestling inAlec's arms under the gaze of many hundreds of his subjects.
"I am sending you to my mother, dear," he replied. "Felix and your maidwill be here in a moment, and they
will take you to her in a carriage.You cannot remain at the hotel, and you will be well cared for inMonsieur Nesimir's house."
"Are you coming, Alec?" she asked, scanning his face like a timid child.
"Soon, quite soon."
"Then I am content," she said, and the cloud descended again for a briefspace.
Pauline, unfortunately, happened to be in the kitchen when the fraybegan. She was nearly incoherent with fright; but Felix managed toreassure her, and piloted her skilfully out of the hotel by an exit thatconcealed the gruesome staircase.
The glittering escort of soldiers surrounding the carriage pressed intothe King's service served to complete the illusion insisted on byPoluski, and Pauline rejoined her mistress, firm in the conviction thatthe tumult was an outlandish Serbian method of merrymaking.
Alec, having seen the carriage started on its short journey, approachedStampoff and wrung his hand. "It was a near thing, General," he said."Five minutes later and we should have been in another world."
He spoke in French, and Beaumanoir heard him.
"Not a bit of it," said he. "That anarchist johnny carries about withhim the finest assortment of bombs.--By the way, where is the ballything? I'll swear I put it in my pocket when I grabbed that jokerthrough the door."
His hurried search was not rewarded, and Alec, scarcely understandinghim, asked Stampoff who had given the alarm.
"Bosko, of course. He came tearing up to the War Office like a madman.Had any other brought the same message I really should not havebelieved it."
"Then you heard nothing of a waiter from this hotel, a waiter namedSobieski?"
"Nothing, your Majesty. Bosko was undoubtedly the first to arrive withthe news, and all was quiet at the President's as I rode past. I notedthat especially. By the way, Prince Michael is here; came this morning,I am told. The Princess accompanied him. Does your Majesty intend goingto them at once? I have already sent an orderly to announce yoursafety."
Alec looked at his watch. "Five minutes past four," he said. "No,General, I am due at the university. I like to be punctual; but thisslight delay was unavoidable. I shall see you at dinner to-night, and Isuppose you will clear the city of these idiots of the Seventh Regimentbefore sunset. By the way, a word before we part. You saw the lady whomI brought from the hotel and placed in the carriage?"
"Saw her, your Majesty? Judas! Thirty years ago I should have striven torescue her myself."
"It was she who rescued me, General, she and the little humpbacked man.Exactly how they managed it I do not know as yet; but to-night you shallhear the whole story. At present, it is enough that you should be toldthe one really important fact. She is my promised wife."
With a smile and a farewell hand-wave, Alec mounted a troop horse androde away with Beaumanoir in the direction of the university.
Stampoff looked after him with an expression of utmost dismay on hisweatherbeaten face. "Gods!" he muttered. "A wife, and a pretty foreignertoo, that is a bird of another color! What will Prince and PrincessDelgrado say now, I wonder? What will Kosnovia say, when it is in everyman's mind that you should marry a Serb? And what mad prank of fortunesent her here to-day? By thunder! I thought things were quieting down inDelgratz; but I was wrong--they are just beginning to wake up!"