The Princess Dehra Part 12

The Count smiled in supreme satisfaction.

"I can a.s.sure Your Highness we are of one mind that, in this exigency, it is your duty to a.s.sume the office."

The Princess arose. "Then, my lords," she said gravely, "I accept, hereby engaging that my wedding shall abide the termination of the Regency."

The Archduke made a gesture of protest, but Dehra flashed him her subduing smile and shook her head, and there was naught for him to do but to smile back-and add one more to the score that, some day, Ferdinand of Lotzen would have to settle.

The Prime Minister looked at the Duke with a bland smile of triumph, and then at Armand.

"Is it your joint wish," he asked, "that we ratify the stipulation and proclaim the Regency?"

"It is," said the Archduke; but Lotzen only bowed.

Count Epping drew his sword.

"Valeria hails the Princess Dehra as Regent," he cried. It was the ancient formula changed to fit the occasion.

And this time Armand's blade rang with the others across the table, and his voice joined exultantly in the answer that echoed through the room.

"We hail the Princess Regent!"

As the sound died Ferdinand of Lotzen stepped forward and bent knee.

"G.o.d save Your Royal Highness!" he said, and again Dehra gave him her hand.

"And grant me strength," she answered.

"Amen," said the Count gravely. "Amen."

It was Lotzen who broke the stillness.

"With Your Highness' permission I will withdraw," he said; "there are pressing personal affairs which demand my presence elsewhere." He turned to go.

"One moment, cousin," said she-then to the Prime Minister: "Will the Council need His Highness?"

There was the same gracious manner, the same soft voice, and yet, in those few words, she warned them all that there was now a Regent in Valeria-and a Dalberg regent, too.

"There is nothing now but to draw the Proclamation for your signature,"

said the Count-"the other matters can abide for the time."

And Lotzen, at the Princess' nod of permission, went slowly from the room, his surprise still stronger than his anger; though, in the end, it was the latter that lingered and left its mark in his unforgiving soul.

While the Count was drafting the Proclamation made necessary by the changed conditions, the Princess sat in silence, gazing in abstracted contemplation through the window. Regent of Valeria! the second the kingdom had known; the first had been a woman, too-Eleanor, mother of the infant, Henry the Third of glorious memory-yet, was it wise-was it in fact her duty-her duty to her House; to her beloved? Surely it was not to her pleasure-she who had been happy in her nearing wedding day-her lover placed next the Throne-his bright future and her joy for it. And now-the wait-the struggle-the obligation of right, of justice; the putting off the woman, the putting on the ruler where the woman interfered. Her father! she turned that thought aside sharply-she had turned it aside many times since yesterday, as he had bade her to do:-"When I go, child, do not grieve." Yet, when two have been comrades for years it is not easy.

The Count ceased his writing and, laying aside the pen, looked up.

"Will it please Your Highness to sign?" he said quickly-he had little liking at any time for a woman's reverie, and none at all when it was of the sort he knew this reverie to be-and the woman had work to do.

And Dehra, preoccupied though she was, had missed nothing that was doing at the table, and she let him know she understood him, by a smile and a shake of her handsome head. It was not exactly a reproof, and yet neither was it an encouragement to do the like again.

"Please read it," she said.

It was very brief-reciting the death of Frederick the Fourth, the disappearance of the Book of Laws, the stipulation of the Archduke and the Duke relative to the Succession remaining in abeyance, the creation of a Regency during the inter-regnum and the Princess' acceptance of the office.

When he had done, she asked if there were any suggestions, and none being offered, she signed it and returned it to the Count. Immediately the Council arose and she and Armand retired, by the same way they had entered.

As they pa.s.sed through the library, Dehra went over to the desk.

"Here is where the King sat that last night," she said, "and here the Book of Laws lay, and here was the box. I can't imagine what he did with the Book-nor why he removed it from the box-and the box was in its usual place in the vault when I gave it to you to take to the Council--"

A door latch clicked, and Adolph, the valet, came in hurriedly.

"Well?" said the Archduke, seeing he wished to speak.

"The box, my lord," he answered; "you left it in the council-chamber-is it to remain there?"

"No," said the Princess-"bring it here at once." She went to the vault and opened it.... "Put it on the shelf in the rear," she ordered, when Adolph returned. He obeyed and gave her the key.

"There was no need to lock it," she remarked.

"It has a spring lock, mademoiselle," said the man. "It snapped when I closed the lid."

Dehra nodded indifferently. "So it has.... Shut the vault door." Then motioned to him in dismissal.

"It's of small consequence," she remarked to Armand, as she gave the combination a twirl, "the box is of little use without the Book."

As she turned away, her glance fell on the big portrait of her father that hung high on the opposite wall-and of a sudden the reaction came, and the tears started, and her lips twitched. She reached out her hand appealingly to Armand. In silence, he put his arm around her and led her quickly from the room.

VI THE REWARD OF A MEDDLER

When Ferdinand of Lotzen left the Council, he pa.s.sed leisurely down the corridor toward one of the private exits. The pressing business that was demanding his immediate attention seemed to bother him no longer, and he even took the trouble to acknowledge the salute of the guard who paced before the main stairway; whereat the man stared after him in unfeigned surprise, until the Duke, suddenly looking back, caught him in the act-and with a frown sent him to the about-face and the far end of his beat.

So no one saw His Highness step quickly over and try the door of the King's library, and, when it opened to him-as he had antic.i.p.ated it would, the Princess having come that way to the Council-go in and close it softly behind him. Dropping the lock, he went to the door of the private cabinet (which was between the library and the room used for the Council meetings) and listened. Hearing nothing, he opened it very cautiously and peered inside; no one was there and he fixed the door a bit ajar, so as to be warned if anyone entered from the Council.

The library was a large room, paneled ceiling and sides in wood painted an ivory white; the great, wide windows were half hidden by the Gobelin blue tapestries that hung in folds to the floor; heavy bookcases of carved mahogany lined the walls; the furniture was of the ma.s.sive Empire style, but the desk was a big, oblong, flat-topped affair that had been made over Frederick's own design-and which more than compensated in utility for what it lacked in artistry. It pleased its owner and so fulfilled its mission. It stood a little way back from the center of the room, the great crystal chandelier above its outer edge, and all the doors directly in focus of the revolving chair behind it.

It was to this chair that the Duke went and began hurriedly to go through the papers on the desk, yet taking the utmost care not to disturb their arrangement, and replacing them exactly as he found them. Evidently whatever he was seeking was of the sort that needed no examination to prove it, for he pa.s.sed over letters and written doc.u.ments without a glance at their contents. It was not on the desk and he began on the drawers, none of which was locked. One after another was searched without success, and the Duke's brow went blacker and blacker, until, as the last proved barren, he flung himself into the chair, and again ran over the doc.u.ments on top-and again without finding what he sought.

"It was only a chance," he muttered, sending his glance around the room, "only a feeble chance;... 'He was blotting a page as I entered,' was what she said ... and if it were a fresh blotter it might tell the story." He went over to the vault, the front of which was painted white and paneled to correspond to the walls, and tried the door.... "Locked, of course--"

Suddenly he turned toward the King's cabinet, listening; then sprang quickly behind one of the window curtains; and its swaying had not ceased when the Princess and Armand entered, on their return from the Council.

Unseen, he was also unseeing; yet hearing, he had little need for eyes-it was easy to picture all that occurred:-Dehra's pointing out the positions of the King, the Laws and the box; the entry of Adolph; the opening of the vault; the valet's return with the box; his dismissal; the locking again of the vault. But what then happened always puzzled the Duke-that it was something unexpected was proved by the sudden silence, and pause, before either of them moved, followed at once by the closing of the corridor door.

He waited a moment, until he was sure they had gone, then went to the desk. What had disturbed the American and the Princess-why had their talk ceased so abruptly-why did they wait, unmoving, and then go out together and still unspeaking?... Had they seen him?... Impossible; even the window did not show through the tapestry; and he had been against the wall.... His gloves-had he let them lie somewhere?... no, they were drawn through his sword belt.... He studied the desk top-the floor-the chairs.... They told him nothing;... and, yet, it was very queer.... Had any part of him been exposed beyond the curtain? He went back and got behind it ... it completely covered him-and as he stood there the cabinet door opened and Adolph came in softly.