The Princess Dehra Part 25

Bernheim looked at the pistol in disgust.

"I never did have any patience with these toys," he growled; "three shots across a blanket, and only a touch!"

The Archduke pointed to the dead body.

"You did pretty well there," he said.

"Luck, pure luck." He went over to the stairs. "I don't hear anything,"

he said; "the chest seems to be very quiet-what about the lights; shall I turn them off?"

"First take a look at these gentlemen," said Armand; "do you know them?"

The Aide stooped over the one he had killed and jerked off the mask that covered his upper face-then did the same with the other, and shook his head.

"I never saw either of them," he said; "but they look the part-you hit this one exactly on the spot; he is paralyzed or dead."

"We will leave him to find out for himself which it is," the Archduke answered-"unless, Colonel, you wish to search further for the lady-as I remember, you promised her the first killing."

Bernheim laughed.

"I rather imagine your lady is a man-I think we shall find her at the foot of the stairs."

He ran quickly down, vaulted over the debris with the aid of the rail, and turned on the light.

The Archduke had followed him as far as the turn.

"It looks as though you got her, Colonel," he remarked, pointing with his rapier to two men who lay among the fragments of the chest. One was dead-face and head mashed flat, the crimson splotch on the white wall marking where the heavy missile had crushed them. The other, both legs broken at the ankles, and half his ribs driven in, was pinned in the corner, unconscious-a singularly repulsive creature, with huge, protruding teeth, pimply face, an enormous red nose, and a mouth like a fish's.

Bernheim looked him over.

"Positively, I'd be ashamed to employ such carrion," he remarked. "I don't understand Lotzen; he is an aesthete, even in his crimes."

The Archduke stepped carefully into the hall, and laid his rapier on the table.

"Let us be off," he said; "there is nothing more to do." He turned toward the door-then stopped and reached for the sword.

"Others are coming," he said;-"we'll fight it out right here."

There was the quick tramp of feet on the porch, and a sergeant and two police entered. Their looks of bewildered surprise, as they recognized the Archduke and his Aide, were so comical that even Bernheim smiled, though his words were curt enough.

"Salute, men!" he said, "don't you know His Royal Highness?"

The sergeant's hand went up.

"Your pardon, sir," he stammered, "but we heard shots-and this house is supposed to be unoccupied. I am sorry--"

Armand motioned him to silence.

"There is nothing to pardon, sergeant," he said; "you are doing your duty very properly, and you come in good time. You will search this place thoroughly, including the grounds; remove the dead and wounded immediately; see that all knowledge of the affair is suppressed, and report to me at noon to-morrow."

The officer saluted again. "Yes, Your Highness."

"Where are our capes, Colonel?"

"In the library-I'll get them."... He dropped the Archduke's about his shoulders, and the sergeant did the same for him.

As they gained the Avenue, the cathedral bell struck three.

"A nice hour for an old man like you, Bernheim, to be going home," said the Archduke.

A quizzical smile came into the Aide's stern face.

"A lady called me," he replied.

XII THE SOLE SURVIVOR

Ferida Palace, the residence of His Royal Highness the Duke of Lotzen, on the Alta Avenue half a mile or so beyond the Epsau, is a great, rambling pile of gray stone, of varying height and diverse architecture, set in the midst of grounds that occupy two entire squares, and are surrounded by a high, embattled wall, pierced with four wide entrances, whose bronze gates are famous in their craftsmanship.

Here the Duke lived in a splendor and munificence almost rivaling the King 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; he left Dornlitz quite too suddenly; and those who were wise learned quickly that they lost nothing in wage nor perquisite by being blind and dumb.

For Lotzen did not skimp his steward-all he required was skillful service, and that what occurred within the Palace must not go beyond the walls. Nevertheless, in conduct, he was not the habitual libertine and roue,-the contrary was, in truth, the fact-but he proposed to have the opportunity to do as he liked when the fancy moved him-and to have no carping moralist praying over him and then retailing his misdeeds with unctuous smirks of pious horror. Not that he cared a centime for their horrors or their prayers, but because it were not well to irritate unduly the King, by doings which he might not countenance, if brought formally to his attention-though the Duke was well aware that Frederick troubled himself not at all how he went to the devil, nor when, save that the quicker he went the better.

And so it was, that he had not hesitated to bring with him the woman of raven hair and dead-white cheek, and to install her in the gorgeous suite in 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 was not the wiser as to Madeline Spencer's presence. The time was not yet for her to show herself, and in the meantime she had remained secluded; she was too well known in Dornlitz to escape recognition; and even Lotzen dared not, at this exigency, so spurn public sentiment as to sponsor the adventuress 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 after much urging and jeweled caresses; though not the least of the inducements was the hope of annoying the Princess Dehra-for whom she had conceived the most violent hate. By herself it would, of course, have been a fatulously foolish hate, but with Lotzen, and under the peculiar situation existing at Court, there was a chance-and it was this chance she meant to play for and to seize. And besides, it promised the excitement and ample financial returns that were the mainsprings of her existence.

And though it fretted her beyond measure to dawdle in idleness and tiresome inanition, even in the luxury of the Ferida, yet she endured it with amazing equanimity; and amused herself, the while, by flirting with the Duke's friends, when the Duke was not in presence-and sometimes when he was. And then, when he sulked or stormed, a soft arm would slip around his 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 was peace, and on her terms. The marvel of it all, was how she held him-as no woman had ever held him hitherto; she made no pretense of love, nor tried for it from him-a pleasant camaraderie was all she gave, and all she asked for; favor-free to-day, favor-cold to-morrow; elusive as a moon-beam; fickle as the wind; tempting and alluring as a vestal; false and faithless as the Daughter of the Foam.

And though Lotzen knew it-and knew it well-for she had told him frankly what she was and what she lived for, yet her fascinations negatived her words; while her indifference as to whether she stayed or went-and which he was thoroughly aware was not a.s.sumed-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 the disappearance of the Laws, recounting in detail the scene at the Royal Council, when the compromise was forced; but as to Adolph and the incidents of the King's library he said never a word. To her prompt query, as to how he accounted for the Book's disappearance, he answered that the American, knowing it contained no decree in his favor, had stolen and, doubtless, destroyed it-and that the Princess Royal's story was a clever lie-"just such a lie as you, yourself, would have told for me, in a similar exigency," he had added; and she had smiled an acquiescence-thinking, the while, that for the American she would have done 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 old fort 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 honest beat; and though he had ignored her overtures, and finally had scorned them 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 yet to 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 woman claimed him honestly and without fear, she would go on with her part; and all the more willingly that it enabled her to strike through him the woman 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; and he knew the second call would win. If he were to hold her, it was time to start the campaign she had come to a.s.sist-and that very day was his visit to the Summer Palace, and the sudden determination of his plan. But when, 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 she was indisposed and had retired, and that he should breakfast with her the next day.

And in the morning he had found her in her boudoir, in the most enticing of soft blue gowns, and no touch of dishabille nor carelessness in all her attire, from the arrangement of the raven hair to the shoeing of the slender feet. Madeline Spencer was much too clever to let a man see her in negligee when, to him, the hour for negligee was pa.s.sed.

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 too wretched to see even you-and I wanted to see you."

He sat on the arm of the chair, playing softly with her hair.