The Princess Dehra Part 34

"My G.o.d!" she heard Hertz exclaim, as both sprang up, and, frantically b.u.t.toning tunics and drawing on gloves, ran out into the road and swung to horse. There was a snap of commands, a stamping of hoofs, and the lances rose high above the wall in a line of fluttering pennons; they dipped, and the next moment the Archduke and the Regent's Adjutant drew up before the gate.

The former raised his hand, and Hertz rode forward and saluted.

"How long have you been here, Captain Hertz?" he asked.

"Since a few minutes after three, sir."

"Has any one come to the Inn in that time?"

Hertz's spine went cold, and his voice trembled-she was the Archduke's, and he had dared to ogle her.

"No one, Your Highness," he answered-"no one but a woman-only a few minutes ago-on horseback-alone."

"Did you happen to look at her, Captain? If you did, you might describe her."

"I cannot, Your Highness; her face was covered with a thick, black veil."

The Archduke smiled. "You're a good soldier, I see; a pretty face comes first."

"But her figure, sir-it's wonderful, black habit and black horse-and she can ride-and her voice-"

"At least, Captain, your inability to describe her isn't due to lack of observation," the Archduke remarked dryly. "You have aroused my curiosity; I must see this remarkable woman-and do you remain here. I may have need of you presently; if you hear a whistle, come to me instantly."

"Very clever, my lord," Hertz muttered; "but you can't cozen this bird; you're here to meet her, and we are not expected. If the Regent knew it-whew!" and dismounting, he nodded to the sergeant.

"This looks about as harmless as a game of ping-pong," said Armand, as they went into the courtyard; then, suddenly, an amazing idea flashed upon him; and he swung around, and motioned Hertz to him.

"What color was the woman's hair?" he asked.

"Black. Your Highness, black as her gown."

He dismissed Hertz with a look.

"Moore," he said, and without moving on, "this plot is tangling fast. Can you guess who this woman is?"

"'The one who knows,'" said the Colonel promptly.

"Yes, and more-it is Madeline Spencer."

"Impossible!"

"I hope so, G.o.d knows," the Archduke answered; "I've had enough of that devil-Scartman, is any one awaiting me?"

The old fellow had come up at a run.

"Your Highness' pardon," he cried, bowing almost into the dirt; "had I known you were coming I would have been at the gate to receive you--"

"Never mind the reception, my man, answer my question-is any one awaiting me?"

"I think so, Your Highness-"

"Don't you know-what name did she give for me?"

"'The one who knows,' sir-but I wasn't to tell you, sir, she is a woman-she was most particular as to that."

The Archduke laughed. "Well, you didn't; I knew it-where is she?"

"I will conduct your--"

"You'll do nothing of the sort," said Armand, dismounting and flinging his rein to his orderly; "where is the lady?"

Old Scartman knew enough to palaver no longer.

"The large room on the right, Your Highness," he answered promptly.

"Come along, Moore," said the Archduke, "let us have a look at her-and pray heaven it isn't Spencer."

But the landlord shook his head dubiously.

"It's queer doings, sure enough!" he muttered;-"leastwise, it's no love meeting they're up to;" and he followed them as far as the hall, to be within call if needed.

Shielded by the curtain, Madeline Spencer had watched the scene in the courtyard, laughing quietly, the while, at Hertz's confusion and at what she knew was in his mind, as to the Archduke and herself; now she flung the veil lightly around her head, and put her chair where the sun would be behind her. Moore's presence had surprised and disappointed her; but, on the whole, she preferred him to Bernheim-and particularly if one of them were to be at the interview. Though she had rather counted upon Armand coming alone, if only to show his contempt for the permission to bring an escort-that he had sent the troop of Lancers she did not credit for a moment, though it might do to twit him with it.

Cool player that she was, and skillful beyond most women, yet even her heart beat a little faster, and her hand showed the trace of a tremble, as she heard the rattle of swords and spurs in the hall-way, followed by the sharp knock upon her door. And she let the knock come a second time before she answered it. She had not seen Armand since that night in her reception room in the Hotel Metzen, when the King and he had surprised her and Lotzen together, and, after tumbling the Duke's schemes about his ears, had sent him to Lotzenia in disgrace and her across the border; and, now, the sight of him, and the sound of his voice, had stirred again the old fondness that would not down. And though, to his face, she might laugh at his anger and mock at his contempt, and feel it so then, yet afterward, in the depression that in such natures always follows periods of excitement, the recollection of it hurt her sadly, scorn it as she might, despise it as she did-destroy him as she meant to do, and would.

"Entrez!" she called, "entrez!" and with the words, the tremble pa.s.sed, and she was serene and undisturbed again.

"Your Royal Highness!" she said, very low, and swept him a quick curtsy.

Instead of offering his hand to raise her, he answered with a slight bow.

"Madame desired to see me?" he asked; and crossing over obliged her to turn so that the light from the window fell upon her sideways. And, despite the heavy veil, that gave him only a black mask of c.r.a.pe instead of her face, he was satisfied he had surmised correctly.

Suddenly she caught the veil and flung it away.

"You know me, I see," she laughed, "so we will dispense with this covering-it is very warm."

For a little while, he looked at her in forbidding silence.

"What ill wind blew you back to Dornlitz?" he asked presently; and she almost cried out in surprise at the deliberate menace in his voice. And Moore marvelled and was glad-the old Henry was being aroused, at last.

"Ill wind?" she said-leaning carelessly against the window ledge where the sun played through her wonderful hair, and tinged the flawless face from dead-white to a faint, soft pink-"ill wind for whom, Armand?-surely not for you; why am I here?"

The Archduke gave a sarcastic laugh. "That is precisely what I should like to know."

"You doubt the letter?"

A shrug was his answer.