The Puppet Crown

by Harold MacGrath

  CHAPTER XIV. QUI M'AIME, AIME MON CHIEN

  On making this discovery Maurice was inclined to declaim in thatvigorous vocabulary which is taboo. He had been tricked. He was nolonger needed at the Red Chateau. Four millions in a gun barrel; hoaxwas written all over the face of it, and yet he had been as unsuspiciousas a Highland gillie. Madame had tricked him; the countess had trickedhim, the Colonel and Fitzgerald.

  That Madame had tricked him created no surprise; what irritated him mostwas the conviction that Fitzgerald was laughing in his sleeve, and thathe had misjudged the Englishman's capacity for dissimulation. Very well.He threw the gun on the bed; he took Fitzgerald's pipe from his pocketand cast it after the gun, and with a gesture which placed all thecontents of the room under the ban of his anathema, he strode out intothe corridor, thence to the office.

  Here the message to Madame from Beauvais flashed back. The Colonel ofthe royal cuirassiers had lied; he had found the certificates. But stillthere was a cloud of mystery; to what use could Beauvais put them? Hethrew the key to the landlord.

  "You lied to me when you said that no one had entered that room," hesaid.

  "O, Herr, I told you that no one but the police had been in the roomsince your departure. They made a search the next morning. Herr Hamiltonwas suspected of being a spy of the duchy's. I could not interfere withthe police."

  Maurice saw that there was nothing to be got from the landlord, who wasas much in the dark as he. He passed into the street and walked withoutany particular end in view. O, he would return to the Red Chateau, ifonly to deliver himself of the picturesque and opinionated address onMadame. Once he saw his reflection in a window glass, and he stopped andmuttered at it.

  "Eh, bien, as Madame herself says, we develop with crises, and certainlythere is one not far distant. I never could write what I wish to say toMadame; I'll go back to-morrow morning."

  Situated between the university and the Grand Hotel on the left handside of the Konigstrasse, east, stood an historical relic of the dayswhen Austria, together with the small independent states, strove toshake off the Napoleonic yoke. In those days students formed secretsocieties; societies full of strange ritual, which pushed devotionto fanaticism, which stopped at nothing, not even assassination. Toexterminate the French, to regain their ancestral privileges, to rescuetheir country from its prostrate humiliation, many sacrificed theirlives and their fortunes.

  Napoleon found no means of reaching these patriots, for they could notbe purchased. This convinced Napoleon of their earnestness, for he couldbuy kings and princes. The students were invisible, implacable, and manya brilliant officer of the imperial guard disappeared, never to return.

  This historic relic of the Konigstrasse had been the headquarters of oneof the branches of these numerous societies; and the students still heldto those ancient traditions. But men and epochs pass swiftly; only theinanimate remain. This temple of patriotism is simply an inn to-day,owned by one Stuler, and is designated by those who patronize it as "OldStuler's." It is the gathering place of the students. It consists of ahall and a garden, the one facing the street, the other walled in at therear.

  The hall is made of common stone, bald and unadorned save by four dingywindows and a tarnished sign, "Garten," which hangs obliquely over theentrance. At the curb stands a post with three lamps pendant; but theseare never lit because Old Stuler can keep neither wicks nor glass beyondthe reach of canes.

  Old Stuler was well versed in the peculiarities of students. In Americathey paint statues; in Austria they create darkness. On warm, clearnights the students rioted in the garden; when it rained, chairs andtables were carried into the hall, which contained a small stage and asquare gallery. Never a night passed without its animated scene.

  Here it was that the evils of monarchical systems were discussed, thearmy service, the lack of proper amusement, the restrictions at thestage entrance to the opera; here it was that they concocted theirexploits, fought their duels, and planned means of outwitting OldStuler's slate.

  Stuler was a good general; he could keep the students in order, watchhis assistants draw beer, the Rhine wine, and the scum (dregs of thecask, muddy and strong), and eye the accumulating accounts on theslate. This slate was wiped out once the month; that is to say, whenremittances came from home. The night following remittances was aglorious one both to Stuler and the students. There were new scars, newsubjects for debate, and Stuler got rid of some of his prime tokayer.The politics of the students was socialism, which is to say they werealways dissatisfied. Tourists seldom repeated their visits to Stuler's.There was too much spilling of beer in laps, dumping of pipe ash intouncovered steins, and knocking off of stiff hats.

  It was in front of Old Stuler's that Maurice came to a pause. He hadheard of the place and the praise of its Hofbrau and Munich beers. Heentered. He found the interior dark and gloomy, though outside the sunshone brilliantly. He ordered a stein of Hofbrau, and carried it intothe main hall, which was just off the bar-room. It was much lighterhere, though the hall had the tawdry appearance of a theater in theday-time; and the motes swam thickly in the beams of sunshine whichentered through the half-closed shutters. It was only at night thatStuler's was presentable.

  Scarcely a dozen men sat at the tables. In one corner Maurice saw whatappeared to be a man asleep on his arms, which were extended the widthof the table. It was the cosiest corner in the hall, and Maurice decidedto establish himself at the other side of the table, despite the presentincumbent. Noiselessly he crossed the floor and sat down. The light wasat his back, leaving his face in the shadow, but shone squarely on thesleeper's head.

  "I do not envy his headache when he wakes up," thought Maurice. He haddetected the vinous odor of the sleeper's breath. "These headaches,while they last, are bad things. I know; I've had 'em. I wonder,"lifting the stein and draining it, "who the duffer was who said thatgetting drunk was fun? His name has slipped my memory; no matter." Heset down the stein and banged the lid.

  The sleeper stirred. "Rich," he murmured; "rich, rich! I'm rich! Ahundred thousand crowns!"

  "My friend, I'm not in the position to dispute with you on thatsubject," said Maurice, smiling. He rapped the stein again.

  The sleeper raised his head and stared stupidly,

  "Rich, aye, rich!" He was still in half a dream. "Rich, I say!"

  "Hang it, I'm not arguing on that," Maurice laughed.

  The other swung upright at this, his round, oily face sodden, his blackeyes blinking. He threw off the stupor when he saw that it was a man andnot the shadow of one.

  "Who the devil are you?" he asked, thickly.

  Maurice seldom forgot a face. He recognized this one. "Oho!" he said,"so it's you, eh? I did not expect to meet you. Happily I had you inmind. You are not employed at present as a porter at the Grand Hotel? Soit is you, my messenger!"

  "Who are you and what are you talking about? I don't know you."

  "Wait a moment and I'll refresh your memory." Maurice theatricallythrust a cigar between his teeth and struck a match. As the flameillumined his features the questioner started. "So you do not recognizeme, eh? You haven't the slightest remembrance of Herr Hamilton and hissprained ankle, eh? Sit down or I'll break your head with this stein,you police spy!" dropping the bantering tone.

  The other sat down, but he whistled sharply; and Maurice saw the dozenor so rise from the other tables and come hurriedly in his direction. Hepushed back his chair and rose, his teeth firmly embedded in the cigar,and waited.

  "What's the trouble, Kopf?" demanded the newcomers.

  "This fellow accuses me of being a spy and threatens to break my head."

  "O! break your head, is it? Let us see. Come, brothers; out with thisfellow."

  Maurice saw that they were about to charge him, and his hand went to hiship pocket and rested on the butt of the revolver which the Colonel hadgiven him. "Gentlemen," he said, quietly, "I have no discussion withyou. I have a pistol in my pocket, and I'm rather handy with it. Idesire to talk to this
man, and talk to him I will. Return to yourtables; the affair doesn't concern you."

  The intended assault did not materialize. They scowled, but retired afew paces. They saw the movement toward the hip pocket, and they notedthe foreign twist of the tongue. Moreover, they did not like the angleof the speaker's jaws. They shuffled, looked questioningly at oneanother, and, as if all of a single mind, went slowly back to theirchairs. Kopf grew pale. Indeed, his pallor was out of all proportionwith the affair, which Maurice took to be no more than a comedy.

  "Brothers," he said, huskily, "he will not dare."

  "Don't you doubt it for a moment," interrupted Maurice, taking out therevolver and fondling it. "Any interference will mean one or more casesfor the hospital. Come, I'm not the police," to Kopf. "I am not goingto hurt you. I wish only to ask you a few questions, which is my rightafter what has passed between us. We'll go to my hotel, where we shan'tbe disturbed."

  Together they left the hall. As they passed through the bar-room Stulerlooked questions, but refrained from asking them. Maurice put away therevolver. As they went out into the street he drew Kopf's arm within hisown.

  "What do you want?" asked Johann, savagely.

  "First. What is your place in this affair?"

  "What affair?"

  "The abduction."

  "I had nothing to do with it, Herr, on my honor. I was only a porter,and I supposed my errand was in good faith."

  "How about the gentle push you gave me when the door opened? My friend,I'm no infant. Lies will do you no good. I know everything, and wishonly to verify. You are a police spy, in the employ of the duchess."Maurice felt the arm draw, and bore down on it.

  "If I was, do you suppose I'd fool my time on this side of theThalians?" Johann shrugged.

  "I'm not sure about that," said Maurice, puffing into Johann's face."When cabinet ministers play spy, small fry like you will not cavil atthe occupation. And you are not in their pay?" Johann glared. "I wantto know," Maurice went on, "what you know; what you know of ColonelBeauvais, his plans, his messengers to the duchy, what is taking placeunderneath."

  Johann's face cleared and a cunning light brightened his eyes. "If thatis all you are after, I'll tell you. I'm a spy no longer; they have nomore use for me, despite their promises. I'll play them off for quits."

  "If that's all," repeated Maurice, "what did you think I wanted to askyou?"

  Johann bit his lip. "I'm wanted badly by the chancellor, curse you, ifyou must know. I thought he might be behind you."

  "Don't worry about that," said Maurice, to whom this declaration seemedplausible. "We'll talk as we go along."

  And Johann loosened his tongue and poured into Maurice's ear a talewhich, being half a truth, had all the semblance of straightforwardness.What he played for was time; to gain time and to lull his captor'ssuspicions. Maurice was not familiar with the lower town; Johann was.A few yards ahead there was an alley he knew, and once in it he couldlaugh at all pursuit. It might be added that if Maurice knew but littleof the lower town, he knew still less about Johann.

  Suddenly, in the midst of his narrative, Johann put his leg stifflybetween his enemy's and gave a mighty jerk with his arm, with the resultthat Maurice, wholly unprepared, went sprawling to the pavement. He wason his feet in an instant, but Johann was free and flying up the alley.Maurice gave chase, but uselessly. Johann had disappeared. The alley wasa cul de sac, but was lined with doors; and these Maurice hammered toease his conscience. No one answered. Deeply disgusted with his lack ofcaution, Maurice regained the street, where he brushed the dust from hisknees.

  "I'll take it out of his hide the next time we meet. He wasn't worth thetrouble, anyway."

  A sybil might have whispered in his ear that a very large fish hadescaped his net, but Maurice continued, conscious of nothing savechagrin and a bruised knee. He resumed the piecing together of events,or rather he attempted to; very few pieces could be brought together. IfBeauvais had the certificates, what was his object in lying to Madame?What benefit would accrue to him? After all, it was a labyrinth of pathswhich always brought him up to the beginning. He drooped his shouldersdejectedly. There was nothing left for him to do but return to the RedChateau and inform them of the fruitlessness of his errand. He wouldstart on the morrow. Tonight he wanted once more to hear the band,to wander about the park, to row around the rear of the archbishop'sgarden.

  "A fine thing to be born in purple--sometimes," he mused. "I never knewtill now the inconveniences of the common mold."

  He tramped on, building chateaux en Espagne. That they tumbled down didnot matter; he could rebuild in the space of a second, and each castlean improvement on its predecessor.

  His attention was suddenly drawn away from this idle but pleasantpursuit. In a side street he saw twenty or thirty students surging backand forth, laughing and shouting and jostling. In the center of thisswaying mass canes rose and fell. It was a fight, and as he loved afight, Maurice pressed his hat firmly on his head and veered intothe side street. He looked around guiltily, and was thankful that nofeminine eyes were near to offer him their reproaches. He jostled amongthe outer circle, but could see nothing. He stooped. Something whiteflashed this way and that, accompanied by the sound of low growls. A dogfight was his first impression, and he was on the point of leaving, for,while he secretly enjoyed the sight of two physically perfect men wagingbattle, he had not the heart to see two brutes pitted against eachother, goaded on by brutes of a lower caste. But even as he turned thecrowd opened and closed, and the brief picture was enough for him.

  Her dog! And the students were beating it because they knew it to bedefenseless. Her dog! toothless and old, who could not hold when hisjaws closed on an arm or leg, but who, with that indomitable courage ofhis race, fought on and on, hopelessly and stubbornly.

  He was covered with blood, one of his legs was hurt, but still thespirit burned. It was cowardly. Maurice's jaws assumed a particularlyferocious angle. Her dog! Rage choked him. With an oath he flung thisstudent aside and that, fought his way to the center. A burly student,armed with a stout cane, was the principal aggressor.

  Maurice doubled his fist and swung a blow which had one hundred andsixty pounds behind it, and it landed squarely on the cheek of thestudent, who dropped face downward and lay still. This onslaught was sosudden and unexpected that the students were confounded. But Maurice,whose plans crystallized in moments like these, picked up the cane andlaid it about him.

  The students swore and yelled and stumbled over one another in theirwild efforts to dodge the vindictive cane. Maurice cleared a widecircle. The dog, half blinded by his blood and not fully comprehendingthis new phase in the tide of events, lunged at Maurice, who nimblyeluded him. Finally the opportunity came. He flung the cane into theyelling pack, with his left arm caught the dog about the middle, andleaped back into the nearest doorway. The muscles of his left arm weresorely tried; the dog considered his part in the fray by no means ended,and he tugged and yelped huskily. With his right hand Maurice sought hisrevolver, cocked and leveled it. There came a respite. The studentshad not fully recovered from their surprise, and the yells sank intomurmurs.

  "You curs!" said Maurice, panting. "Shame on you! and an old dog thatcan't defend himself! You knew he had no teeth."

  "God save your Excellency!" laughed a student in the rear, who had nottasted the cane; "you may be sure we knew he had no teeth or we wouldn'thave risked our precious calves. Don't let him scare you with thepopgun, comrades. At him, my brave ones; he will be more sport than thedog! Down with the Osians, dogs, followers and all!"

  "Come on, then," said Maurice, whose fighting blood was at heat. "Comeon, if you think it isn't over. There are six bullets in this popgun,and I don't give a particular damn where they go. Come on!"

  Whether or not this challenge would have been accepted remainsunwritten. There now came on the air the welcome sound of gallopinghoofs, and presently two cuirassiers wheeled into the street. WhatMaurice had left undone with the cane the cuirassier
s completed with theflat of their sabers. They had had a brush with the students the nightbefore, and they went at them as if determined to take both interest andprincipal. The students dispersed like leaves in the wind--all save one.He rose to his feet, his hands covering his jaw and a dazed expressionin his eyes. He saw Maurice with the revolver, the cuirassiers withtheir sabers, and the remnant of his army flying to cover, and hedecided to follow their example. The scene had changed somewhat since helast saw it. He slunk off at a zigzag trot.

  One of the cuirassiers dismounted, his face red from his exertions.

  "Eh?" closely scanning Maurice's white face. "Well, well! is it you,Monsieur Carewe?"

  "Lieutenant von Mitter?" cried Maurice, dropping the dog, who by now hadgrasped the meaning of it all. "You came just in time!"

  They shook hands.

  "I'll lay odds that you put up a good fight," the Lieutenant said,pleasantly. "Curse these students! If I had my way I'd coop them all upin their pest-hole of a university and blow them into eternity."

  "And how did the dog come in this part of the town?" asked Maurice,picking up his hat.

  "He was with her Royal Highness. This is charity afternoon. She drivesabout giving alms to the poor, and when she enters a house the dogstands at the entrance to await her return. She came out of another doorand forgot the dog. Max there remembered him only when we were severalblocks away. A dozen or so of those rascally students stood opposite uswhen we stopped here. It flashed on me in a minute why the dog did notfollow us. And we came back at a cut, leaving her Highness with no onebut the groom. Max, take the dog to her Highness, and tell her that itis Monsieur Carewe who is to be thanked."

  Maurice blushed. "Say nothing of my part in the fracas. It was nothingat all."

  "Don't be modest, my friend," said the cuirassier, laughing, while hiscomrade dismounted, took the dog under his arm, and made off. "This isone chance in a lifetime. Her Royal Highness will insist on thankingyou personally. O, I know Mademoiselle's caprices. And there's yourhat, crushed all out of shape. Truly, you are unfortunate with yourheadgear."

  "It's felt," said Maurice, slapping it against his leg. "No harm done tothe hat. Well, good day to you, Lieutenant, and thanks. I must be off."

  "Nay, nay!" cried the Lieutenant. "Wait a moment. `There is a tide inthe affairs of men, which, taken at the flood--' How does that line go?I was educated in England and speak English as I do my mother tongue--"

  "Won't you let me go?" asked Maurice. "Look at my clothes."

  "You ought to be thankful that they are dry this time. Come; you'll havea good story to carry back to Vienna. Princesses do not eat people."

  "No," said Maurice.

  "Ye gods, listen to that! One would think by the tone of your voice thatyou wished they did!"

  There was no resisting this good humor; and Maurice wanted only anexcuse to wait. He sat down on the steps, sucked the knuckles of hishand, and contemplated the grin on the cuirassier's face.

  "I like you," said the Lieutenant; "I like your sangfroid. The palace isa devil of a dull place, and a new face is a positive relief. I supposeyou know that affairs here are bad; no honesty anywhere. Everybody hashis hands tied. The students know this, and do as they please. Think oftwo hundred gendarmes in the city, and an affair like this takes placewithout one of them turning up!

  "I tell you frankly that it is all I can do to withhold the edge of mysaber when I meet those students. Last night they held a noisy flambeauprocession around the Hohenstaufenplatz, knowing full well that the kinghad had another stroke and quiet was necessary. They would have wakedthe dead. I have an idea that I forgot to use the flat of my sword; atleast, the hospital report confirms my suspicions. Ah, here comes Max."

  "Her Royal Highness desires to thank Monsieur Carewe, and commands thathe be brought to her carriage."

  Lieutenant von Mitter smiled, and Maurice stood up and brushed himself.The troopers sprang into the saddle and started on a walk, with Mauricebringing up behind on foot. The thought of meeting the princess,together with his recent exertions, created havoc with his nerves. Whenhe arrived at the royal carriage, his usual coolness forsook him. Hefumbled with his hat, tongue-tied. He stood in the Presence.

  "Monsieur," said the Voice, "I thank you with all my heart for yourgallant service. Poor, poor dog!"

  "It was nothing, your Highness; any man would have done the same thing."The red in the wheel-spokes bothered his eyes.

  "No, no! you must not belittle it."

  "If it had not been for Lieutenant von Mitter--"

  "Whither were you going, Monsieur?" interrupted the Voice.

  "Nowhere; that is, I was going toward my hotel."

  "The Continental?"

  "Yes, your Highness."

  "Step into the carriage, Monsieur;" the Voice had the ring of command."I will put you down there. It is the least that I can do to show mygratitude."

  "I--I to ride with your Highness?" he stammered. "O, no! I--that is--itwould scarcely be--"

  "You are not afraid of me, Monsieur?" with a smile which, though it hada bit of the rogue in it, was rather sad. She moved to the other side ofthe seat and put the dog on the rug at her feet. "Perhaps you are proud?Well, Monsieur, I too am proud; so proud that I promise never to forgiveyou if you refuse to gratify my wish."

  "I was not thinking of myself, your Highness, or rather I was. I am notpresentable. Look at me; my hat is out of shape, my clothes dusty, and Idare say that my face needs washing."

  The Presence replied to this remarkable defense with laughter, laughterin which Maurice detected an undercurrent of bitterness.

  "Monsieur Carewe, you are not acquainted with affairs in Bleiberg, oryou would know that I am a nobody. When I pass through the streets Iattract little attention, I receive no homage. Enter: I command it."

  "If your Highness commands--"

  "I do command it," imperiously. "And you would have pleased me morefully if you had accepted the invitation and not obeyed the command."

  "I withdraw all objections," he said hastily, "and accept theinvitation."

  "That is better," the Voice said.

  Maurice, still uncovered, sat down on the front seat.

  "Not there, Monsieur; beside me. Etiquette does not permit you to ridein front of me."

  As he took the vacant place beside her he felt a fire in his cheeks. TheVoice and Presence were disquieting. As the groom touched the horses,Maurice was sensible of her sleeve against his, and he drew away. ThePresence appeared unmindful.

  "And you recognize me?" she asked.

  "Yes, your Highness." He tried to remember what he had said to her thatday in the archbishop's garden. Two or three things came back and thecolor remounted his cheeks.

  "Have you forgotten what you said to me?"

  "I dare say I was impertinent," vaguely.

  "Ah, you have forgotten, then!"

  In all his life he never felt so ill at ease. To what did she refer?That he would be proud to be her friend? That if the princess was asbeautiful as the maid he could pass judgment?

  "Yes, you have forgotten. Do you not remember that you offered to bemy friend?" She read him through and through, his embarrassment, thetell-tale color in his cheeks. She laughed, and there was nothing butyouth in the laughter. "Certainly you are afraid of me."

  "I confess I am," he said. "I can not remember all I said to you."

  Suddenly she, too, remembered something, and it caused the red of therose to ripple from her throat to her eyes. "Poor dog! Not that theyhated him, but because I love him!" Tears started to her eyes. "See,Monsieur Carewe; princesses are human, they weep and they love. Poordog! My playmate and my friend. But for you they might have killed him.Tell me how it happened." She knew, but she wanted to hear the storyfrom his own lips.

  His narrative was rather disjointed, and he slipped in von Mitter asmany times as possible, thinking to do that individual a good turn.Perhaps she noticed it, for at intervals she smiled. During the tellinghe took out his h
andkerchief, wiped the dog's head with it, and wound ittightly about the injured leg. The dog knew; he wagged his tail.

  How handsome and brave, she thought, as she observed the face inprofile. Not a day had passed during the fortnight gone that she had notconjured up some feature of that intelligent countenance; sometimes ithad been the eyes, sometimes the chin and mouth, sometimes the shapelyhead. It was wrong; but this little sin was so sweet. She had neverexpected to see him again. He had come and gone, and she had thoughtthat the beginning and the end. Ah, if only she were not a princess! Ifonly some hand would sweep aside those insurmountable barriers calledbirth and policy! To be free, to be the mistress of one's heart, one'sdreams, one's desires!

  "And you did it all alone," she said, softly; "all alone."

  "O, I had the advantage; I was not expected. It was all over before theyknew what had happened."

  "And you had the courage to take a poor dog's part? Did you know whosedog it was?"

  "Yes, your Highness, I recognized him."

  A secret gladness stole into her heart, and to cover the flame whichagain rose to her cheeks, she bent and smoothed the dog's head. Thisgave Maurice an opportunity to look at her. What a beautiful beingshe was! He was actually sitting beside her, breathing the sameair, listening to her voice. She exhaled a delicate perfume such asincorporates itself in persons of high degree and becomes a naturalemanation, an incense vague and indescribable. He felt that he wasgazing on the culmination of youth, beauty, and elegance... Yes,Fitzgerald was right. To beggar one's self for love; honor and life, andall to the winds if only love remained.

  Presently she straightened, and he centered his gaze on the back of thegroom.

  "Monsieur, place your hat upon your head," smiling. "We have entered theStrasse, and I should not like to embarrass you with the attention ofthe citizens."

  He put on his hat. The impulse came to tell her all that he knew inregard to the kingdom's affairs; but his voice refused its offices.Besides, it was too late; the carriage was rolling into the Platz, andin a moment more it drew up before the terrace of the Continental Hotel.Maurice stepped out and bared his head.

  "This evening, Monsieur, at nine, I shall expect to see you at thearchbishop's reception to the corps diplomatique." A hand was extendedtoward him. He did not know what to do about it. "I am offering you myhand to kiss, Monsieur Carewe; it is a privilege which I do not extendto all."

  As he touched it to his lips, he was sure that a thousand pairs of eyeswere centered on him. The truth is, there were less than one hundred.It was the first time in many months that the Crown Princess had stoppedbefore the Continental Hotel. To the guests it was an event; and someeven went as far as to whisper that the handsome young man was PrinceFrederick, incognito.

  "God save your Royal Highness," said Maurice, at loss for other words.He released her hand and stepped back.

  "Until this evening, then, Monsieur;" and the royal barouche rolledaway.

  "Who loves me, loves my dog," said Maurice, as he sped to his room.