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"And you think he will obey?"
"I surely do. I cannot imagine a Dalberg dishonoring the Book of Laws."
"I fear you do not know Ferdinand of Lotzen," said Armand seriously. "He intends to dispute the Succession. I have never told you how, long ago, he warned me what to expect if I undertook to 'filch the Crown,' as he put it. It was the afternoon he insulted me at headquarters-the Vierle Masque was in the evening."
The Princess nodded eagerly. "Yes," said she, "yes-I know-the time he wanted you to toss up a coin for me. What did he say?"
The Archduke reflected a moment. "I can give you his exact words: 'Do you think,' he said, 'that I, who have been the Heir Presumptive since the instant of my birth, almost, will calmly step aside and permit you to take my place? Do you fancy for an instant that the people of Valeria would have a foreigner for King? And even if old Frederick were to become so infatuated with you that he would restore you to Hugo's place in the line of Succession, do you imagine that the House of n.o.bles would hesitate to annul it the instant he died?'"
When he had finished, Dehra's fingers were beating a tattoo on the chair's arm, and her eyes were snapping-as once or twice he had seen Frederick's snap.
"And I suppose you never told the King?" she exclaimed.
"Naturally not."
"Of course, of course," with a toss of the handsome head. "That's a man's way-his silly, senseless way-never tell tales about a rival. And as a result, see what a mess you have made. Had you informed the King, he instantly would have proclaimed you as his heir, and then disgraced Lotzen publicly and sent him into exile. And you would now be his successor, without a shadow of opposition."
Armand subdued a smile. "You don't understand, Dehra--" he began.
"Quite right," she cut in; "quite right; I don't. Why didn't you tell me?
I would have told the King, you may be sure."
"Of course you would, little woman; that's just the reason I didn't tell you."
She shrugged her shoulders, and the tattoo began afresh.
"I've no patience with such nonsense," she declared; "Lotzen deserved no gentlemanly consideration; he would have shown none to you; and besides, it was your duty to your King and your House to uphold the Laws of the Dalbergs and to prevent any attempt to violate them."
"I am very much afraid that lately, between Lotzen and myself, the Laws of the Dalbergs have been sadly slighted."
His bantering jarred upon her. "To me, Armand," she answered gravely, "our Laws are holy. For almost a thousand years they have been our unchallenged rule of governance. I can understand why, to you, they have no sacredness and no sentiment; but Lotzen has been born and bred under them, and should honor them with his life-and more especially as they alone made him the Heir Presumptive. But for the decree of the first Dalberg King, four hundred years ago, I would be the Queen-Regent of Valeria."
"It's a pity, a crying pity!" he exclaimed.
She looked down at him with shining eyes. "No, dear, it isn't; once I thought it was; but now I'm quite content to be Queen-consort."
He took both her hands and held them between his own. "That, dear, is what makes it possible, and worth the struggle; and if Valeria does accept me as its King, it will be solely for love of you, and to get you for its Queen."
A smile of satisfaction crossed her face. "I hope the people do love me,"
she said. "I would like to feel I may have helped you, even a little."
"A little! but for you, my princess, I'd go back to America and leave the way clear for Lotzen."
She laughed softly. "No, no, Armand, you would do nothing of the sort. A Dalberg never ran from duty-and least of all the Dalberg whom G.o.d has made in the image of the greatest of them all."
He glanced in the tall mirror across the room. He was wearing the dress uniform of the Red Huzzars (who had been inspected immediately before the Foot Guards; and he, as t.i.tular Colonel, had led them in the march by), and there was no denying he made a handsome figure, in the brilliant tunic and black, fur-bound dohlman, his Orders sparkling, his sword across his knees.
She put her head close beside his and smiled at him in the mirror.
"Henry the Great was not at all bad looking," she said.
He smiled back at her. "But with a beastly bad temper, at times, I'm told."
"I'm not afraid-I mean his wife wasn't afraid; tradition is, she managed him very skilfully."
"Doubtless," he agreed; "any clever woman can manage a man if she take the trouble to try."
"And shall I try, Armand?"
"Try!" he chuckled; "you couldn't help trying; man taming is your natural avocation. By all means, manage me-only, don't let me know it."
"I'll not," she laughed-"the King never--" and she straightened sharply.
"I forgot, dear, I forgot!" And she got up suddenly, and went over to the window. Nor did he follow her; but waited silently, knowing well it was no time for him even to intrude.
After a while she came slowly back to him, a wistfully sad look in her eyes. And as he met her she gave him both her hands.
"I shall never be anything but a thoughtless child, Armand," she said, with a wan, little smile. "So be kind to me, dear-and don't forget."
He drew her arms about his neck. "Let us always be children to each other," he answered, "forgetting, when together, everything but the joy of living, the pleasures of to-day, the antic.i.p.ations of to-morrow."
She shook her head. "A woman is always a child in love," she said; "it's the man who grows into maturity, and sobers with age."
He knew quite well she was right, and for the moment he had no words to answer; and she understood and helped him.
"But this is no time for either of us to be children," she went on; "there is work to do and plans to be arranged." She drew a chair close to the table and, resting both arms upon it, looked up at the Archduke expectantly. "What is first?"
He hesitated.
"Come, dear," she said; "Frederick was my father and my dearest friend, but there remains for him now only the last sad offices the living do the dead; we will do them; but we will also do what he has decreed. We will seat you in his place, and confound Lotzen and his satellites."
He took her hand and gravely raised it to his lips.
"You are a rare woman, Dehra," he said, "a rare woman. No man can reach your level, nor understand the beauty of your faith, the meaning of your love. Yet, at least, will I try to do you honor and to give you truth."
She drew him down and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
"You do not know the Dalberg women, dear," she said-"to them the King is next to G.o.d-and the line that separates is very narrow."
"But I'm not yet the King," he protested.
"You've been king, in fact, since the moment-Frederick died. With us, the tenet still obtains in all its ancient strength; the throne is never vacant."
"So it's Lotzen or I, and to-morrow the Book will decide."
"Yes," she agreed; "to-morrow the Book will decide for the Nation; but we know it will be you."
"Not exactly," he smiled; "we think we know; we can't be sure until we see the decree."