XII THE SOLE SURVIVOR
Ferida Palace, the residence of His Royal Highness the Duke of Lotzen, onthe Alta Avenue half a mile or so beyond the Epsau, is a great, ramblingpile of gray stone, of varying height and diverse architecture, set inthe midst of grounds that occupy two entire squares, and are surroundedby a high, embattled wall, pierced with four wide entrances, whose bronzegates are famous in their craftsmanship.
Here the Duke lived in a splendor and munificence almost rivaling theKing himself, and with a callous indifference to certain laws of society,that would have scandalized the Capital had it become public knowledge.But in his household, the servant who babbled, never babbled twice; heleft Dornlitz quite too suddenly; and those who were wise learned quicklythat they lost nothing in wage nor perquisite by being blind and dumb.For Lotzen did not skimp his steward--all he required was skillfulservice, and that what occurred within the Palace must not go beyond thewalls. Nevertheless, in conduct, he was not the habitual libertine androue,--the contrary was, in truth, the fact--but he proposed to have theopportunity to do as he liked when the fancy moved him--and to have nocarping moralist praying over him and then retailing his misdeeds withunctuous smirks of pious horror. Not that he cared a centime for theirhorrors or their prayers, but because it were not well to irritate undulythe King, by doings which he might not countenance, if brought formallyto his attention--though the Duke was well aware that Frederick troubledhimself not at all how he went to the devil, nor when, save that thequicker he went the better.
And so it was, that he had not hesitated to bring with him the woman ofraven hair and dead-white cheek, and to install her in the gorgeous suitein the west wing of the Ferida, where others, as frail but far less fair,had been before her--and the world never the wiser--just as now it wasnot the wiser as to Madeline Spencer's presence. The time was not yet forher to show herself, and in the meantime she had remained secluded; shewas too well known in Dornlitz to escape recognition; and even Lotzendared not, at this exigency, so spurn public sentiment as to sponsor theadventuress whom he had procured to pose as wife to the Archduke Armand.
She had come with him to the Capital with deep misgiving, and only aftermuch urging and jeweled caresses; though not the least of the inducementswas the hope of annoying the Princess Dehra--for whom she had conceivedthe most violent hate. By herself it would, of course, have been afatulously foolish hate, but with Lotzen, and under the peculiarsituation existing at Court, there was a chance--and it was this chanceshe meant to play for and to seize. And besides, it promised theexcitement and ample financial returns that were the mainsprings of herexistence.
And though it fretted her beyond measure to dawdle in idleness andtiresome inanition, even in the luxury of the Ferida, yet she endured itwith amazing equanimity; and amused herself, the while, by flirting withthe Duke's friends, when the Duke was not in presence--and sometimes whenhe was. And then, when he sulked or stormed, a soft arm would slip aroundhis neck, and a pair of red lips smile close to his face; and, presently,he was caressing the one, and pleading for the others--and there waspeace, and on her terms. The marvel of it all, was how she held him--asno woman had ever held him hitherto; she made no pretense of love, nortried for it from him--a pleasant camaraderie was all she gave, and allshe asked for; favor-free to-day, favor-cold to-morrow; elusive as amoon-beam; fickle as the wind; tempting and alluring as a vestal; falseand faithless as the Daughter of the Foam.
And though Lotzen knew it--and knew it well--for she had told him franklywhat she was and what she lived for, yet her fascinations negatived herwords; while her indifference as to whether she stayed or went--and whichhe was thoroughly aware was not assumed--only captivated him the more,who had been used to easy conquest and clinging hearts.
He had explained fully to her the complication produced by thedisappearance of the Laws, recounting in detail the scene at the RoyalCouncil, when the compromise was forced; but as to Adolph and theincidents of the King's library he said never a word. To her promptquery, as to how he accounted for the Book's disappearance, he answeredthat the American, knowing it contained no decree in his favor, hadstolen and, doubtless, destroyed it--and that the Princess Royal's storywas a clever lie--"just such a lie as you, yourself, would have told forme, in a similar exigency," he had added; and she had smiled anacquiescence--thinking, the while, that for the American she would havedone much more than lie, and gladly, if he would but let her.
Since the day when, as Colonel Spencer's bride, she had come to the oldfort on the Missouri, and had first set eyes on Captain Armand Dalberg,there was but one man who might have stirred her cold heart to an honestbeat; and though he had ignored her overtures, and finally had scornedthem with scarring words, yet it had not entirely killed the old desire;and even now, after all that she had done against him, and was ready yetto do, a single word from him would have brought her to his side. Yet,because she knew that word would never come, and that another womanclaimed him honestly and without fear, she would go on with her part; andall the more willingly that it enabled her to strike through him thewoman who had won him.
And now, after the two weeks quiescence, the restless fever was upon her,and the Duke had caught the signs; next would come the call to Paris; andhe knew the second call would win. If he were to hold her, it was time tostart the campaign she had come to assist--and that very day was hisvisit to the Summer Palace, and the sudden determination of his plan. Butwhen, in the evening, he had gone to her apartments to tell her of it,and to discuss the opening moves, she had sent him the message that shewas indisposed and had retired, and that he should breakfast with her thenext day.
And in the morning he had found her in her boudoir, in the most enticingof soft blue gowns, and no touch of dishabille nor carelessness in allher attire, from the arrangement of the raven hair to the shoeing of theslender feet. Madeline Spencer was much too clever to let a man see herin negligee when, to him, the hour for negligee was passed.
She met him with a smile, and let him kiss her cheek.
"I am sorry about last night, dear," she said, "but I was quite toowretched to see even you--and I wanted to see you."
He sat on the arm of the chair, playing softly with her hair.
"I wish I could believe that it was just I you wanted," he said.
She shot him an upward glance of her siren eyes.
"I have been thinking about this business that we have on hand," shecontinued; "and, Ferdinand, if you wish my aid, you must get busy--Ican't endure this stagnation longer. I'm a wild beast that would die inconfinement; I need the jungle and the air and sky."
He laughed, and pinched her ear.
"Your jungle, little one, is the Champs Elysees and cher Maxim's; lachaleur communicative du banquet;--your air and sky, the adulation of themasculine and the stare of admiring eyes."
"Yes, it is; and I've been away a long, long time; yet I want to staywith you until this work is ended--because" (taking his hand and smilingup at him) "you have been good to me, and because it promises excitementof a novel sort--only, dear, do let us be at it."
A door swung back. "Madam is served!" came the monotone.
As they went in, the Duke slipped his arm around her slender waist.
"We're going to be at it," he said; "send the servants away and I'll tellyou my plan; it was for that I came last evening."
"Now, tell me!" she exclaimed, as the door closed behind the footman.
"We are going back to Lotzenia," he said.
She paused, and the black eye-brows went up.
"We?" she inflected.
He nodded. "That is where the game will be played out."
"And why not here, in Dornlitz?"
"Because it's easier there--and surer."
She made to shiver. "So, for me, it's only out of a charming mausoleuminto a common grave."
He laughed. "It will be a rarely lively grave, my dear Madeline, and, Ipromise you, exciting enough fo
r even your starved nerves."
"When do we start?"
"Soon, I trust--there is work to be done here first."
"And I may help?"
"Yes, you may help--the plan needs you."
"And the plan?" she asked eagerly.
"The very simplest I could devise," said he; "to lure the American toLotzenia and----"
She smiled comprehendingly. "Why take all that trouble--why not kill himin Dornlitz?"
He flung up a cautioning hand. "Softly, my dear, softly--and not so bluntin the words--and as I said, it's easier there and surer."
"But it would be so much prettier to play the game out here," she halfobjected; "and more accordant with your taste, I fancy."
"Very true," said he. "It's always more artistic to run a man throughwith a rapier than to kill him with a club; but in this business it's theend alone that concerns me. Yet the primary essential, in either method,is opportunity and freedom of movement; neither is here; both will beplentiful in the North."
"And, of course, at your friendly invitation, the American will gladlyaccompany you to Lotzenia and permit himself to be--offered up."
"Practically that."
An impatient smile shone in her eyes.
"I do not understand, Ferdinand, why you persist in under-rating yourenemy; it's the climax of bad generalship. The American may be recklessand a bit headstrong, but assuredly he is not a fool."
The Duke shrugged his shoulders. "He can fight, I grant you--but he can'tscheme nor plot--nor detect one, though it's as evident as the sun."
"And yet--" she waved her hand toward the Epsau--"it is he you'refighting for the Crown."
"Luck!" he scoffed--"a dotard King, a damn Huzzar uniform, and a sillygirl."
"Is his luck any the less now, with the girl Regent of Valeria?" sheasked.
"Possibly not," he said; "and hence another reason for the mountains--shewon't be with him there."
She gave it up--she had tried repeatedly, but it was impossible, itseemed, to arouse him to Armand's real ability--when hate rides judgment,reason lies bound and gagged.
"Why should the Governor of Dornlitz go to far off Lotzenia?" she asked.
He glanced around the room suspiciously; then scribbled a line in pencilon his cuff and held it over to her.
She read it, and looked at him in puzzled interrogation.
"I don't understand," she said; "you told me that he----"
He had anticipated her question.
"So I did," he interrupted quickly, "but I have no proof; and lately Ihave come to doubt it. At any rate, this will disclose the truth. If myscheme works, he will follow into Hell itself."
"A strikingly appropriate name for your Castle, dear," she laughed.
He nodded and smiled.
"And what if the scheme doesn't work?" she asked.
"In that event, the laugh is on me, and we must devise another means todraw him there."
"Which will be quite fruitless, I can assure you."
"Then we will fight it out here," he said, "and I shall doubly need you."
"And you'll get me, doubly welcome."... She lit a cigarette and passed itto him; and lit another for herself. "Now, how are we to contrive to setthe trap?"
A footman entered and handed the Duke a visiting card, with somethingpenciled on it....
"It's Bigler," he said, "and he asks to be admitted immediately--he'salways in a rush. Tell Count Bigler I'll see him presently."
She stayed the servant with a motion; she did not intend to lose Lotzenuntil he had told her the whole plot.
"Why not have him here?" she asked; "and then let him go."
"By all means, if you will permit," and he nodded to the footman.
Most women would have called Count Bigler handsome; and not a few men, aswell. He was red-headed and ruddy, with clean-cut features, square chin,and a laughing mouth, that contrary to Valerian fashion was not topped bya moustache. Since boyhood, he had been Lotzen's particular companion andintimate; and, as is usual in such instances, he was almost his antipodein temperament and manner.
He saluted the Duke with easy off-handedness, and bent with deferentialcourtesy over Mrs. Spencer's hand; but pressing it altogether moretightly than the attitude justified.
She answered with the faintest finger tap and a quick smile, and wavedhim to a chair.
"If I'm de trop," she said, "I'll vacate."
"Madame is never de trop, to me," he answered, taking the cigarette sheoffered and smiling down at her, through the smoke, as he lit it.
When he turned to sit down, the left side of his face was, for the firsttime, toward the Duke, showing the ear bound with strips of surgeon'splaster.
"In the name of Heaven, man," said he, "what have you been doing withyourself?"
The Count laughed. "Trading the top of my ear for a day or two more oflife."
"Duel?" Lotzen asked.
"Yes, after a fashion, but not exactly under the code."
The primeval woman stirred in Mrs. Spencer.
"The story, Count, the story!" she demanded, coiling her lithe armsbehind her head, and leaning far back in languorous gracefulness.
"It's the story that brings me here so early," he replied.
The Duke was frowning. Duelling was a serious crime in Valeria, even inthe Army, and it was a particularly unfortunate moment for Bigler tooffend; and especially as only the Governor of Dornlitz or the Regentcould save him from punishment.
"How did you manage to get into such a mess just at this time?" he askedsharply. "Was any one killed?"
The Count nodded. "Four, I think; I didn't stay to examine them."
"Four! four! God, man, was it a massacre?"
"Almost--I'm the sole survivor on your side."
Lotzen's frown grew.
"On my side!" he echoed.
"I was assuming to act for you," Bigler explained.
"For me!--who was on the other side?"
"The American--the American and Bernheim."
For a space the Duke smoked in silence; then he gave a faint chuckle.
"They came rather close to making it five, didn't they?" He touched hisear--"Bernheim, I suppose?... Of course, the American would have made itfive. What a fool you are, Bigler, to go into such a thing withouttelling me."
"I'm telling you now," the Count grinned.
"And I'm exceedingly grateful to my dear cousin for leaving you to tellit. It's the only service he has ever done me. I assume it isn'tnecessary to ask if you got him--or even wounded him?"
"Quite unnecessary."
Madeline Spencer had been chafing at the delay; now she arose, and, goingover to a divan, sank sinuously among the pillows, one trim, blue silkankle shimmering far below her skirts.
"If you were as slow in the fight, Count, as you are in getting at thestory," she remarked, "it's a wonder to me how Bernheim missed you."
Both men laughed, and Bigler's glance lingered a moment in openadmiration.
The Duke swung his hand toward her.
"Madame grows impatient," he said. "Proceed, Monsieur Edmund."
The Count took a fresh cigarette.
"It was this way," he began, pivoting his chair around on one back leg,so that he would have both his auditors within his direct vision. "Thetwo weeks we were bound to idleness mourning for old Frederick, I spentin watching the American. I soon discovered that it was his custom, everyfew days, to visit, very late at night, his friend, the AmericanAmbassador, and that he invariably not only walked the entire distancefrom the Epsau and back, but also went unattended. It seemed to me verysimple to waylay him, some night on his return; the streets were usuallydeserted then, and he should be an easy victim, if set upon by enough mento assure success. And I had about arranged the matter, when I chanced toremember that the De Saures were still in the country and their houseclosed. It stands far back from the Avenue, you know, and a safer andsurer plan occurred to me:--I would lure him into this house, and leavehim there for burial. In the dark, my
four rogues could put enough steelthrough him, from behind, to insure his quick demise. I proposed to takeno chances with such a swordsman by giving him a light; and besides, itwas just as well that the men should not know their victim. Nor did theyever see me unmasked. For decoy, one of the rogues procured a woman----"
"What!" exclaimed the Duke,--"one of their women!"
"It was voice, not beauty, I wanted--the cry of a female for help."
Lotzen nodded and smiled. "Rather clever."
"For a week we met at the house at eleven o'clock every night, but theAmerican didn't go to the Embassy. Then, last night, at twelve, he went,and old Bernheim with him. That didn't bother me much, however, and wewaited for their return. They came about two, through driving rain andwind; and the woman played her part perfectly. Such piteous cries I neverheard. 'Don't strike me again--don't strike me again--help--help;'reiterated in tones that would have moved even your heart, my dear Duke.I was concealed near the gate and they moved me--and they caught theAmerican instantly, though Bernheim scented danger and protestedvigorously. 'It may be a trap of Lotzen's,' he warned. 'Damn Lotzen!' wasthe prompt answer, as the girl wailed again--I tell you she was an artistat it; she, herself, must be used to beatings. They ran up the path tothe house, I following; and here the whole scheme was almost upset bysome fool having left the front door open. Bernheim protested that itproved the trap; and even the American was hesitating, when again thewoman wailed. That settled it; and I dashed around the house to the rearentrance.
"My purpose was to draw them upstairs and finish the job there. Theysearched the first floor--we were on the second--then, leaving all theelectric lights burning, they ascended--and we went down the back way,turned off the lights and closed and locked the doors. They promptlyextinguished the lights they had set going above, and the house was inthe densest darkness I have ever known. We could hear them whispering inthe upper hall; and I sent two of my rogues up the front stairs and ledthe others up the rear, intending to snap an electric torch for theinstant it would require to do our work; and which seemed all the easierbecause I had observed, at the gate, that the American was without hissword. When we were half way up, I heard a crash from the front, followedby the American's laugh. I paused an instant, then hurried on, and fellover a chair that had been placed at the head of the stairs. Everythingremained quiet, however, and we went forward into the hall. My finger wason the key of the torch when there came a shrill whistle, and the lightswent on. I saw Bernheim in front of us, pistol in hand; it flashed, andthe man on my left went down. At the same moment, the American sprang atus from behind and felled the other fellow with the hilt of asword--where he got it the devil only knows. As for me, I admit I wasdazed with surprise; I heard the American offer me the choice: pistol orsword--I took the pistol. I had retained enough sense to know I hadn'tthe faintest chance with him. The front steps were near; I made the leapof my life, and plunged down them. Bernheim fired three times--this(indicating his ear) was the last; the first two missed."
"What had become of your other pair of rogues?" the Duke asked.
"Dead. I fell over them at the foot of the stairs, buried under a hugechest."
"Flung upon them, doubtless, as they were ascending," said Lotzen.
Bigler nodded. "That was the crash I heard." He took another cigarette,and lighted it carefully. "And that, madame, is the story," he ended,looking at Mrs. Spencer.
She flashed him a bright smile.
"The nicest thing about it, my dear Count," she said, "is that you arehere to tell it."
"Even if he doesn't in the least deserve to be here," the Dukeinterjected. "Such a--my dear Edmund, don't do it again. You're too youngand innocent to die. Leave the strategy to me--and my lady, yonder; wewill give you enough of fighting in due time--and soon."
The Count laughed in good natured imperturbability.
"I'm done," he said frankly. "I'm ready to take orders from you or mylady--particularly from my lady."
The Duke gave him a quick, sharp glance.
"The orders will come through me," he said, rather curtly.
Madeline Spencer held out her hand to the Count.
"When His Highness grows jealous," she said, languidly arising andshaking down her skirts, "it's time, you know, for you to go--come backwhen he is not here;" and with a provoking smile at the Duke, she flungthe Count a kiss--"for your wounded ear, my lord."
The Princess Dehra Page 12