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Arms and the Woman Part 25

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The innkeeper and three others filed into the room, grimly and silently. They were armed.

For the first time the Prince lost patience.

"This is all very well, Your Highness," he sneered. "You misunderstand the limits of your power to command."

"Not in any part," said Gretchen. "I am sovereign here, notwithstanding the King's will is paramount to my own. These people are my people; these soldiers are fed of my bounty; this is my country till the King takes it back. You will act further at your peril."

CHAPTER XIV

A bar of sunlight suddenly pervaded the room; red sunlight, lighting in its pa.s.sing a tableau I shall never forget. Gretchen stood at her full height, her arms held closely to her sides and her hands clenched. On her face there was that half smile called consciousness of triumph.

Hillars was gazing at her with his soul swimming in his eyes. And I--I had a wild desire to throw myself at her feet, then and there. Over the hard-set visage of the innkeeper the bar of sunlight traveled; over the scowling countenance of the Prince, over the puzzled brow of the Count, and going, left a golden purple in its wake, which imperceptibly deepened.

The Prince was first to speak. "I protest," said he.

"Against what?" asked Gretchen.

"It is the King's will that you become my wife. He will not tolerate this att.i.tude of yours. Your princ.i.p.ality is in jeopardy, let me tell you."

"Does the fact that I have promised the King to become your wife detract from my power? Not a jot. Till you are my husband, I am mistress here--and after."

"As to that, we shall see," said the Prince. "Then you intend to keep your promise?"

"Is there man or woman who can say that I ever broke one?"

"Your Highness, what are your commands?" It was the innkeeper who spoke. His fingers were twitching about the hammer of his carbine. He nodded approvingly toward me. My a.s.sault upon the Prince had brought me again into his good graces.

Gretchen did not answer him, but she smiled kindly.

"Ah, yes!" said the Prince. "This is that Breunner fellow."

The innkeeper made a movement. The Prince saw it, and so did I.

Prince Ernst of Wortumborg was never so near death in all his life as at that moment. He knew it, too.

"Your Highness has a very good memory," said the innkeeper, dryly.

"There are some things it were best to forget," replied the Prince.

"I am pleased that Your Highness shares my opinion," returned the old fellow. The muzzle of the carbine was once more pointed at the ceiling.

The rest of us looked on, but we understood nothing of these pa.s.ses.

Even Gretchen was in the dark.

"We met long ago," said the innkeeper.

"Yes; but I have really forgotten what the subject of Our discussion was," said the Prince, regarding the innkeeper through half-closed lids. "Perhaps he can explain."

"It is very kind of Your Highness," said the innkeeper, laughing maliciously. "But I am old, and my memory serves me ill."

The Prince shrugged. "But we have drifted away from the present matter. Your Highness, then, promises to bend to the will of the King?"

"Yes," said Gretchen. "I gave the King my promise because I had wearied of resistance, having no one to turn to--then. I shall marry you, though I detest you; but I shall be your wife only in name, and not in the eyes of G.o.d."

"The latter sacrifice was not asked of you," smiled the Prince.

"I shall depart this day for the capital," continued Gretchen. "I warn you not to inflict your presence upon me during the journey. Now go.

The air while you remain is somewhat difficult to breathe."

The Prince surveyed the menacing faces which surrounded him, then gathered up his hat and gloves.

"I see that Your Highness will be a dutiful wife," he said, smoothing the silk of his hat with his elbow. He blew into his gloves and carefully drew them over his hands. "A pleasant journey to Your Highness," he added. "Come, Count. And these?" waving his hand toward Hillars and me.

"They have my fullest protection."

He smiled villainously, then walked to the door with a measured tread.

At the door he turned. There was a flash of rage in his eyes, but he quickly subdued it.

"Auf wiedersehen!" with a sweeping glance which took in all of us, and particularly me.

He pa.s.sed out, the Count following him soberly. The two cavalrymen thrust their sabres into the scabbards with a clank, and made as though to follow.

"Wait," said Gretchen. "I shall have need of you. You will escort me to the station. Now you may go."

They saluted gravely. They appreciated the situation. The Princess was their bread and b.u.t.ter.

"Your Highness," said Hillars, "there has been a mistake."

"A mistake?" repeated Gretchen, wonderingly.

"Yes. They have made you a Princess, whereas they should have made you a Queen. Will you forgive me the trouble I have caused?"

"It is I who must ask forgiveness of you," she said, with a sad smile.

"You may kiss my hand, sir."

Hillars remained somewhat long over it.

"And how comes it that you gentlemen know each other?" she asked.

"Damon and Pythias, Your Highness," answered Hillars. "We were brought up together, and we have shared our tents and kettles. I recommend Pythias to you as a brave gentleman." Then he came to me. "You are a brave fellow, Jack," grasping my hand. "Good luck to you. I had an idea; it has returned. Now, then, innkeeper, come with me."

"With you, and where?" asked the innkeeper. If there was one thing for which he could not account, it was the presence of Hillars at the inn.

"Never mind where, but come," answered Hillars, gayly. He bent and whispered something into the old fellow's ear. It was something which pleased him, for he screwed his lips into a smile, and took the white hand of the whisperer in his brawny fist and nigh crushed it.

"Well, well! it doesn't matter where you came from. Here, you," to the trio behind him, "go back to the stables." They filed out. Then the innkeeper took Hillars by the arm. "Come along; time pa.s.ses."

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Arms and the Woman Part 25 summary

You're reading Arms and the Woman. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Harold MacGrath. Already has 640 views.

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