The Weight of the Crown

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The Weight of the Crown Page 5

by Fred M. White


  CHAPTER V

  DEEPER STILL

  Puzzled, vaguely alarmed, and nervous as she was, Jessie had been stillmore deeply thrilled could she have seen into the room from whence thesignal came. She had escorted the Queen of Asturia there, andsubsequently the man known as General Maxgregor, but why they came andwhy that secret meeting Jessie did not know.

  In some vague way Jessie connected the mystery with the hapless creaturewhom she knew now to be the King of Asturia. Nor was she far wrong. Inthe dressing-room beyond the larger room where that strange interviewwas to take place, the hapless man lay on a bed. He might have beendead, so silent was he and so still his breathing. He lay there in hisevening dress, but there was nothing about him to speak of his exaltedrank. He wore no collar or star or any decoration; he might have been nomore than a drunken waiter tossed contemptuously out of the way to liein a sodden sleep till the effects of his potations passed.

  The sleeper was small of size and mean of face, the weak lips hiddenwith a ragged red moustache; a thin crop of the same flame-coloured hairwas on his head. In fine contrast stood the Queen of Asturia, regallybeautiful, perfectly dressed and flashing with diamonds. There was everyinch of a queen. But her face was bitter and hard, her dark eyesflashed.

  "And to think that I am passing my life in peril, ruining my health andshattering my nerves for a creature like _that_!" she whisperedvehemently. "A cowardly, dishonest, drunken hog--a man who is preparedto sacrifice his crown for money to spend on wine and cards. Nay, thecrown may be sold by this time for all I know."

  The figure on the bed stirred just a little. With a look of intenseloathing the queen bent down and laid her head on the sleeper's breast.It seemed to her that the heart was not moving.

  "He must not die," she said passionately. "He must not die--yet. Andyet, God help me, I should be the happier for his release. The wearystruggle would be over, and I could sleep without the fear of his beingmurdered before my eyes. Oh, why does not Paul come!"

  The words came as if in protest against the speaker's helplessness.Almost immediately there came a gentle tap at the door, and GeneralMaxgregor entered. A low, fierce cry of delight came from the queen; sheheld out a pair of hands that trembled to the newcomer. There was aflush on her beautiful face now, a look of pleasure in the splendideyes. She was more like a girl welcoming her lover than a queen awaitingthe arrival of a servant.

  "I began to be afraid, Paul," she said. "You are so very late, thatI----"

  Paul Maxgregor held the trembling hands in a strong grasp. There wassomething in his glance that caused the queen to lower her eyes and herface to flush hotly. It was not the first time that a soldier hasaspired to share a throne. There was more than one tradition in theberserker Scotch family to bear out the truth of it. The Maxgregors ofGlen had helped to make European history before now, and Paul Maxgregorwas not the softest of his race.

  Generally he passed for an Asturian, for he spoke the languageperfectly, having been in the service of that turbulent State for thelast twenty odd years. There was always fighting in the Balkans, and thepay had attracted Paul Maxgregor in his earliest days. But though hisloyalty had never been called in question, he was still a Briton to thebackbone.

  "I could not come before, Margaret," he said. "There were other matters.But why did you bring him here? Surely Lord Merehaven does not know thatour beloved ruler----"

  "He doesn't, Paul. But I had to be here and play my part. And there camenews that the king was in some gambling house with a troupe of thatarchfiend's spies. The police helped me, and I dragged him out and Ibrought him here by way of the garden. Vera Galloway did the rest. Idared not leave that man behind me, I dared not trust a single servant Ipossess. So I smuggled the king here and I sent for you. He is very nearto death to-night."

  "Let him die!" Paul Maxgregor cried. "Let the carrion perish! Then youcan seat yourself on the throne of Asturia, and I will see that youdon't want for a following."

  The queen looked up with a mournful smile on her face. There was onefriend here whom she could trust, and she knew it well. Her hands werestill held by those of Maxgregor.

  "You are too impetuous, Paul," she said softly. "I know that you aredevoted to me, that yo--you love me----"

  "I love you with my whole heart and soul, sweetheart," Maxgregorwhispered. "I have loved you since the day you came down from yourfather's castle in the hills to wed the drunken rascal who lies thereheedless of his peril. The Maxgregors have ever been rash where theiraffections were concerned. And even before you became Erno's bride, Iwarned you what to expect. I would have taken you off then and there andmarried you, even though I had lost my career and all Europe would havetalked of the scandal. But your mind was fixed upon saving Asturia fromRussia, and you refused. Not because you did not love me----"

  The queen smiled faintly. This handsome, impetuous, headstrong soldierspoke no more than the truth. And she was only a friendless, desperatewoman after all.

  "I must go on, Paul," she said. "My duty lies plainly before me. SupposeErno ... dies? He may die to-night. And if he does, what will happen? Assure as you and I stand at this moment here, Russia will produce somedocument purporting to be signed by the king. The forgery will be aclever one, but it will be a forgery all the same. It will be provedthat Erno has sold his country, the money will be traced to him, andRussia will take possession of those Southern passes. This informationcomes from a sure hand. And if Russia can make out a case like this,Europe will not interfere. Spies everywhere will make out that I had ahand in the business, and all my work will be in vain. Think of it,Paul--put your own feelings aside for a moment. Erno must not die."

  Maxgregor paced up and down the room with long, impatient strides. Thepleading voice of the queen had touched him. When he spoke again histone was calmer.

  "You are right," he said. "Your sense of duty and honour make meashamed. Mind you, were the king to die I should be glad. I would takeyou out of the turmoil of all this, and you would be happy for the firsttime in your life. We are wasting valuable time. See here."

  As Maxgregor spoke he took a white package from his pocket and tore offthe paper. Two small bottles were disclosed. The general drew the corkfrom one of them.

  "I got this from Dr. Salerno--I could not find Dr. Varney," heexplained--"and is for our distinguished drunkard--he takes one. Theother is to be administered drop by drop every ten minutes. Salerno toldme that the next orgie like this was pretty sure to be fatal. He said hehad made the remedy strong."

  The smaller bottle was opened, and Maxgregor proceeded to raise the headof the sleeping figure. He tilted up the phial and poured the contentsdown the sleeper's throat. He coughed and gurgled, but he managed toswallow it down. Then there was a faint pulsation of the rigid limbs,the white, mean face took on a tinge as if the blood were flowing again.Presently a pair of bloodshot eyes were opened and looked dully roundthe room. The king sat up and shuddered.

  "What have you given me?" he asked fretfully. "My mouth is on fire.Fetch me champagne, brandy, anything that tastes of drink. What are youstaring at, fool? Don't you see him over there? He's got a knife in hishand--he's all dressed in red. He's after me!"

  With a yell the unhappy man sprang from the bed and flew to the window.The spring blind shot up and the casement was forced back beforeMaxgregor could interfere. Another moment and the madman would have beensmashed on the flagstones below. With something that sounded like anoath Maxgregor dashed forward only just in time. His strong handsreached the drink-soddened maniac back, the casement was shut down, butin the heat and excitement of the moment the blind remained up, so thatit was just possible from the terrace at the end of the garden to seeinto the room.

  But this Maxgregor had not time to notice. He had the ruler of Asturiaback on the bed now, weak and helpless and almost collapsed after hisoutburst of violence. The delusion of the red figure with the knife hadpassed for a moment, and the king's eyes were closed. Yet his heart wasbeating now, and he bore something like the se
mblance of a man.

  "And to think that on a wretch like that the fate of a kingdom hangs,"Maxgregor said sadly. "You can leave him to me, Margaret, for the timebeing. Your absence will be noticed by Mazaroff and the rest. Give thesignal.... Why doesn't that girl come?"

  But the signal was repeated twice with no sign of the sham MissGalloway.

 

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