The Puppet Crown

by Harold MacGrath

  CHAPTER XVII. SOME PASSAGES AT ARMS

  There comes a moment to every man, who faces an imminent danger, whenthe mental vision expands and he sees beyond. By this transient gift ofprescience he knows what the end will be, whether he is to live or die.As Maurice looked into the merciless eyes of his enemy, a dim knowledgecame to him that this was to be an event and not a catastrophe, afragment of a picture yet to be fully drawn. His confidence and couragereturned. He thanked God, however, that the light above equalized theirpositions, and that the shadows were behind them.

  The swords came together with a click light but ominous. ImmediatelyBeauvais stepped back, suddenly threw forward his body, and deliveredthree rapid thrusts. Maurice met them firmly, giving none.

  "Ah!" cried Beauvais; "that is good. You know a little. There will besport, besides."

  Maurice shut his lips the tighter, and worked purely on the defensive.His fencing master had taught him two things, silence and watchfulness.While Beauvais made use of his forearm, Maurice as yet depended solelyon his wrist. Once they came together, guard to guard, neither daringto break away until by mutual agreement, spoken only by the eyes, bothleaped backward out of reach. There was no sound save the quick lightstamp of feet and the angry murmur of steel scraping against steel.Sometimes they moved circlewise, with free blades, waiting and watching.Up to now Beauvais's play had been by the book, so to speak, and hebegan to see that his opponent was well read.

  "Which side is the pretty rose?" seeking to distract Maurice. "Tell me,and I will pin it to you."

  Not a muscle moved in Maurice's face.

  "It is too, bad," went on Beauvais, "that her Highness finds a loveronly to lose him. You fool! I read your eyes when you picked up thatrose. Princesses are not for such as you. I will find her a lover, itwill be neither you nor Prince Frederick--ah! you caught that nicely.But you depend too much on the wrist. Presently it will tire; andthen--pouf!"

  Now and then a a flame, darting from the grate, sparkled on the polishedsteel, and from the steel it shot into the watchful eyes. A quarterof an hour passed; still Maurice remained on the defensive. At firstBeauvais misunderstood the reason, and thought Maurice did not dare runthe risk of passing from defensive to offensive. But by and by the frothof impatience crept into his veins. He could not penetrate above orbelow that defense. The man before him was of marble, with a wrist ofiron; he neither smiled nor spoke, there was no sign of life at all,except in the agile legs, the wrist, and eyes. The Colonel decided tochange his tactics.

  "When I have killed you," he said, "I shall search your pockets, forI know that you lie when you say that you have not those certificates.Madame was a fool to send you. No man lives who may be trusted. And whatis your game? Save the Osians? Small good it will do you. Her Highnesswill wed Prince Frederick--mayhap--and all you will get is cold thanks.And in such an event, have you reckoned on Madame the duchess? War! Andwho will win? Madame; for she has not only her own army, but mine. Come,come! Speak, for when you leave this room your voice will be silent.Make use of the gift, since it is about to leave you."

  The reply was a sudden straightening of the arm. The blade slipped inbetween the Colonel's forearm and body, and was out again before thesoldier fully comprehended what had happened. Maurice permitted a coldsmile to soften the rigidity of his face. Beauvais saw the smile, andread it. The thrust had been rendered harmless intentionally. An inchnearer, and he had been a dead man. To accomplish such a delicate pieceof sword play required nothing short of mastery. Beauvais experienced adisagreeable chill, which was not unmixed with chagrin. The boy had heldhis life in his hand, and had spared it. He set his teeth, and let loosewith a fury before which nothing could stand; and Maurice was forcedback step by step until he was almost up with the wall.

  "You damned fool!" the Colonel snarled, "you'll never get that chanceagain."

  For the next few minutes it took all the splendid defense Mauricepossessed to keep the spark in his body. The Colonel's sword was nolonger a sword, it was a flame; which circled, darted, hissed andwrithed. Twice Maurice felt the bite of it, once in the arm and again inthe thigh. These were not deep, but they told him that the end was buta short way off. He had no match for this brilliant assault. Somethingmust be done, and that at once. He did not desire the Colonel's death,and the possibility of accomplishing this was now extremely doubtful.But he wanted to live. Life was just beginning--the rough road hadbeen left behind. He was choosing between his life and the Colonel's.Beauvais, after the fashion of the old masters, was playing for thethroat. This upward thrusting, when continuous, is difficult to meet,and Maurice saw that sooner or later the blade would reach home. If notsudden death, it meant speechlessness, and death as a finality. Then thevoice of his guardian angel spoke.

  "I do not wish your life," he said, breaking the silence, "but at thesame time I wish to live--ah!" Maurice leaped back just in time. As itwas, the point of his enemy's blade scratched his chin.

  They broke and circled. The Colonel feinted. Maurice, with his elbowagainst his side and his forearm extended, waited. Again the Colonellunged for the throat. This time, instead of meeting it in tierce,Maurice threw his whole force forward in such a manner as to bringthe steel guard of his rapier full on the Colonel's point. There was aringing sound of snapping steel, and the Colonel stood with nothing buta stump in his grasp.

  "There you are," said Maurice, a heat-flash passing over him. Had heswerved a hair's breadth from the line, time would have tacked finis tothe tale. "Now, I am perfectly willing to talk," putting his point tothe Colonel's breast. "It would inconvenience me to kill you, but do notcount too much on that."

  "Damn you!" cried the Colonel, giving way, his face yellow with rage,chagrin and fear. "Kill me, for I swear to God that one or the other ofus must die! Damn you and your meddling nose!"

  "Damn away, chevalier d'industrie; damn away. But live, live, live! Thatwill be the keenest punishment. Live! O, my brave killer of boys,you thought to play with me as a cat with a mouse, eh? Eh, CaptainUrquijo-Beauvais-and-What-is-your-name?" He pressed the point here,there, everywhere. "You were too confident. Pardon me if I appear tobrag, but I have taken lessons of the best fencing masters in Europe,and three times, while you devoted your talents to monologues, I couldhave pinned you like one of those butterflies on the wall there. Haveyou ever heard of the sword of Damocles? Well, well; it hangs over manya head to-day. I will be yours. I give you forty-eight hours to arrangeyour personal affairs. If after that time you are still in this partof the country, I shall inform the proper authorities in Vienna. Therepublic has representation there. Of a noble Austrian house, on the eveof recall? I think not."

  Beauvais made a desperate attempt to clutch the blade in his hands.

  "No, no!" laughed Maurice, making rapid prods which caused Beauvais towince. "Now, back; farther, farther. I do not like the idea of having myback to the door."

  Beauvais suddenly wheeled and dashed for the mantel. But as heendeavored to lay hand on the revolver Maurice brought down the blade onthe Colonel's knuckles, leaving a livid welt. Maurice took possessionof the weapon, while a grimace of agony shot over the Colonel's face.Seeing that the chambers were loaded, Maurice threw down the sword.

  "Well, well!" he said, cocking the weapon. "And I saw it when I enteredthe room. It would have saved a good deal of trouble." Beauvais grewwhite. "O," Maurice continued, "I am not going to shoot you. I wishmerely to call your valet." He aimed at the grate and pressed thetrigger, and the report, vibrating within the four walls, was deafening.

  A moment passed, and the valet, with bulging eyes and blanched face,peered in. Seeing how matters stood, he made as though to retreat.

  Maurice leveled the smoking revolver. "Come in, Francois; your masterwill have need of you."

  Francois complied, vertigo in his limbs. "My God!" he cried, wringinghis hands.

  "Your master tried to murder me," said Maurice. Francois had heardvoices like this before, and it conveyed to him that a fine quality ofange
r lay close to the surface. "Take down yonder window curtain cord."Francois did so. "Now bind your master's hands with it."

  "Francois," cried the Colonel, "if you so much as lay a finger on me,I'll kill you."

  "Francois, I will kill you if you don't," said Maurice.

  "My God!" wailed the valet at loss which to obey when to obey eithermeant death. His teeth chattered.

  "You may have all the time you want, Francois, to wring your hands whenI am gone. Come; to work. Colonel, submit. I'm in a hurry and have notime to spare. While I do not desire to kill you, self-preservation willforce me to put a bullet into your hide, which will make you an inmateof the city hospital. Bind his hands behind his back, and no morenonsense."

  "Monsieur," appealingly to Beauvais, "my God, I am forced. He will killme!"

  "So will I," grimly; "by God, I will!" Beauvais had a plan. If he couldkeep Maurice long enough, help might arrive. And he had an excellentstory to tell. Still Francois doddered. With his eye on the Colonel andthe revolver sighted, Maurice picked up the sword. He gave Francois avigorous prod. Francois needed no further inducement. He started forwardwith alacrity. In the wink of an eye he threw the cord around Beauvais'sarms and pinned them to his sides. Beauvais swore, but the valet wasstrong in his fright. He struggled and wound and knotted and tied,murmuring his pitiful "Mon Dieu!" the while, till the Colonel was thecentral figure of a Gordian knot.

  "That will do," said Maurice. "Now, Francois, good and faithful servant,take your master over to the lounge, and sit down beside him until I getinto my clothes. Yes; that's it." He shoved his collar and tie intoa pocket, slipped on his vest and coat, put on his hat and slung histopcoat over his arm. During these maneuvers the revolver remainedconspicuously in sight. "Now, Francois, lead the way to the street door.By the time you return to your illustrious master, who is the prince orduke of something or other, pursuit will be out of the question. Now, asfor you," turning to Beauvais, "the forty-eight hours hold good. Duringthat time I shall go armed. Forty-eight hours from now I shall informthe authorities at the nearest consulate. If they catch you, that's youraffair. Off we go, Francois."

  "By God!--" began Beauvais, struggling to his feet.

  "Come so far as this door," warned Maurice, "and, bound or not, I'llknock you down. Hang you! Do you think my temper will improve in yourimmediate vicinity? Do you think for a moment that I do not lust foryour blood as heartily as you lust for mine? Go to the devil your ownway; you'll go fast enough!" He caught Francois by the shoulders andpushed him into the hall, followed, and closed the door. Francois hadbeen graduated from the stables, therefore his courage never rose tosublime heights. All the way down the stairs he lamented; and each timehe turned his head and saw the glitter of the revolver barrel he chokedwith terror.

  "If you do not kill me, Monsieur, he will; he will, I know he will!My God, how did it happen? He will kill me!" and the voice sank into amuffled sob.

  Despite the gravity of the situation, Maurice could not repress hislaughter. "He will not harm you; he threatened you merely to delay me.Open the door." He stepped out into the refreshing air. "By the way,tell your master not to go to the trouble of having me arrested, for thefirst thing in the morning I shall place a sealed packet in the handsof the British minister, to be opened if I do not call for it withintwenty-four hours. And say to your master that I shall keep the rose."

  "Mon Dieu! A woman! I might have known!" ejaculated Francois, as thedoor banged in his face.

  Maurice, on reaching the pavement, took to his legs, for he saw threemen rapidly approaching. Perhaps they had heard the pistol shot. Heconcluded not to wait to learn. He continued his rush till he gained hisroom. It was two o'clock. He had been in the Colonel's room nearly threehours. It seemed only so many minutes. He hunted for his brandy, foundit and swallowed several mouthfuls. Then he dropped into a chair fromsheer exhaustion. Reaction laid hold of him. His hands shook, his legstrembled, and perspiration rolled down his cheek.

  "By George!" This exclamation stood alone, but it was an Odyssey. Heremained stupefied, staring at his shoes, over which his stockings hadfallen. His shirt buttons were gone, and the bosom was guiltless of itsformer immaculateness. After a time he became conscious of a burningpain in the elbow of his right arm. He glanced down at his hand, to findit covered with drying blood. He jumped up and cast about his clothes.One leg of his trousers was soaked, and the dull ache in his thightold the cause. He salved the wounds and bound them in strips ofhandkerchiefs, which he held in place by using some of the cast-offcravats.

  "That was about as close to death as a man can get and pull out. Ifeel as if I had swallowed that cursed blade of his. I am an ass, sureenough. I've always a bad cold when there's a rat about; can't smellhim. And the rascal remembered me! Will he stay in spite of my threat?I'll hang on here till to-morrow. If he stays--I won't. He has thedevil's own of a sword. Hang it, my nerves are all gone to smash."

  Soon some gentler thought took hold, and he smiled tenderly. He broughtforth the rose, turned it this way and that, studied it, stroked it,held it to his lips as a lover holds the hand of the woman he loves. Herrose; somehow his heart told him that she had laughed because Beauvaishad stooped in vain.

  "Ah, Maurice," he said, "you are growing over fond. But why not? Whowill know? To have loved is something."

  He crept into bed; but sleep refused him its offices, and he tossedabout in troubled dreams. He fought all kinds of duels with all sortsof weapons. He was killed a half dozen times, but the archbishopalways gave him something which rekindled the vital spark. A thousandBeauvaises raged at him. A thousand princesses were ever in thebackground, waiting to be saved. He swore to kill these Beauvaises, andafter many fruitless endeavors, he succeeded in smothering them in theirgray pelisses. Then he woke, as dreamers always wake when they pass somegreat dream-crisis, and found himself in a deadly struggle with a pillowand a bed-post. He laughed and sprang out of bed.

  "It's no use, I can't sleep. I am an old woman."

  So he lit his pipe and sat dreaming with his eyes open, smoking andsmoking, until the sickly pallor of dawn appeared in the sky, and heknew that day had come.