The Colonel of the Red Huzzars Part 69

He considered. "No," said he, "I understand why you want them. I'll come--they will be discreet. And the Princess would wish it so. I'll bring her, myself."

Then I rode to the Metzen. Bernheim had preceded me and, with the manager of the Hotel, awaited me at a side door. The corridor was dimly lighted but I drew my cape well over my face and, is a moment, we were in a small reception room.

"Monsieur Gerst," said I to the manager, "I need your a.s.sistance."

Gerst bowed very low.

"Your Royal Highness has but to command," he said.

I was quite sure of that, however. An Archduke of Valeria would have been quite enough, but the Governor of Dornlitz was beyond refusal. I could have closed his Hotel by a word, and there would have been no appeal.

"Thank you, monsieur," I said. "You have as a guest, a certain Madame Armand Dalberg."

"A guest by Your Highness's express permission, you will remember," he said.

"Very true," said I. "Now, this Madame Dalberg expects a visitor to-night at nine o'clock."

He gave me a quick glance.

"You know him?" I asked.

"No, Your Highness. I only know madame gave orders to admit no one to-night except a gentleman who would come at nine."

I nodded. "It's the same," said I. "And what I want, is to hear all that occurs between Madame Dalberg and this visitor."

Gerst smiled. "That will be easily arranged, Your Highness--the place is already provided."

"The concealed Gallery?" asked Bernheim, quickly?

"Yes, Colonel." Then, to me, he explained: "Madame's reception room was once a part of a small, state dining-room. Back of the end wall runs a gallery where guests sat to listen to the speeches. It is there, now--and the tapestries, with which the walls are hung, completely hide it."

"It can be reached from the floor above?" I asked.

"Yes, Your Highness; a narrow stairway admits to it."

"Can we enter without being overheard by those in the room below?"

"Very readily, sir; the gallery was so designed that its noises would not disturb those in the dining-room."

"We are in good luck, Bernheim," I said.

"We shall need all of it, sir, with eight spectators."

And he was right. It was foolish to risk success for only a sentimental reason. I knew, perfectly well, the proper course was for no one but the King and myself to be in the gallery; yet, there entered my Dalberg stubbornness. I purposed that some of those, who had seen me accused that night on the Hanging Garden, should see me exculpated to-night.

It may be, that some will question the propriety of my action, and the good taste of those who were my guests. As to the latter, it must be borne in mind that my invitation was in the nature of a command, which it would have been vastly discourteous to decline. And, besides, they were my friends. As for myself, I have no excuses to offer--and, methinks, I need none. The situation had long pa.s.sed the refinement of ethics. It was war; and war not of my declaring. Neither was I responsible for the style of the campaign. Madeline Spencer deserved no consideration from me--and no more did her visitor.

XXIV

THE END OF THE PLAY

I had, yet, an hour to spare, so Bernheim and I returned to the Epsau.

I donned the evening uniform of the Red Huzzars, with the broad Ribbon of the Lion across my breast and the Cincinnati around my neck. I was minded to be the Dalberg Archduke to-night.

Then, having dispatched Bernheim to the Palace to escort the King and the Princess, I drove to the Metzen, where Gerst piloted me, by private corridors, to the apartments reserved for me, and which adjoined the Gallery.

The King and the Princess were the last to arrive. As I greeted them, Dehra detained me.

"Shall we be able to see as well as hear?" she asked.

"Yes," said I, "if you wish."

"I do wish," she said. "I'm savage to-night."

I laughed. "It's very becoming, dear."

Then the great bell of the Cathedral began to chime the hour; and, with a word of caution, I led the way to the Gallery.

The floor was covered with a thick carpet and eight small chairs were placed close to the railing. The tapestry was very old and thin and, by putting one's face close to it, the room below was rather dimly, yet quite sufficiently, visible. Its dimensions were unusually ample--possibly forty feet by sixty--and its furnishings most gorgeous.

The chandelier and side-lights were burning, and a huge vase lamp, pink shaded, was on the large table in the centre. At the moment, the room was untenanted.

In a little while a door opposite the Gallery opened and Madeline Spencer entered.

A woman usually knows her good points physically and how to bring them out. And Mrs. Spencer was an adept in the art--though, in truth, little art was needed. To her, Nature had been over generous.

She affected black; and that was her gown, now--cut daringly low and without a jot of color about it, save the dead white of her arms and shoulders, and a huge bunch of violets at her waist.

I thought I could guess whence the flowers came. And, though I despised her, yet, I could but admit her dazzling beauty.

She moved slowly about the room, touching an ornament here, a picture there. At length, she came to the table and, dropping languidly into a chair, rested her elbow on the arm and, with chin in hand, stared into vacancy.

Presently, there was a sharp knock at the corridor door. She glanced quickly at the clock--then, picked up a book and, sinking back in easy posture, a.s.sumed to read.

"Entrez," she called, without looking up.

The door opened instantly and a man entered. A long military cloak was over his plain evening dress; one fold was raised to hide his face. He dropped it as he closed the door.

Mrs. Spencer lowered her book--then arose with all the sinuous grace she knew so well how to a.s.sume.

"Welcome, Your Royal Highness," she said, and curtsied very low. "It was good of you to come."

The Duke of Lotzen tossed off his cloak--and, coming quickly over, took her hand and kissed it.

"It was more than good of you to let me come," he answered.