The Puppet Crown Part 24

"Good morning," said Madame, smiling as they came up. "And how have you slept?"

"Nothing wakes me but the roll of the drum or thunder," answered Fitzgerald diffidently.

"I dream of horses," said Maurice carelessly.

"Bon jour, M. le Capitaine!" cried the countess. Then she added with a light laugh: "Come, let me try you. Portons armes! Presentons armes!--How beautifully you do it!--Par le flanc gauche! En avant--marche!"

Maurice swung, clicked his heels and, with a covert glance at Madame, led the way into the dining hall, whistling, "Behold the saber of my father!"

"Ah, I do not see the Colonel," said Maurice; for night and day the old soldier had been with them.

"He has gone to Brunnstadt," said Madame, "but will return this evening."

The breakfast was short and merry. Words pa.s.sed across the table that were as crisp as the toast. Maurice remarked the advent of two liveried servants, stolid Germans by the way, who, as he afterward found, did not understand French.

"So the Colonel has gone to Brunnstadt?" said Maurice; which was a long way of asking why the Colonel had gone to Brunnstadt.

"Yes," said Madame; "he has gone to consult Madame the d.u.c.h.ess to see what shall be done to you, Monsieur."

"To be done to me?" ignoring the challenge in her eyes.

"Yes. You must not forget that you promised me your sword, and I have taken the liberty of presenting it to her Highness."

"I remember nothing about promising my sword," said Maurice, gazing ceiling-ward.

"What! There was a mental reservation?"

"No, Madame. I remember my words only too well. I said that I loved adventure, thoughtless youth that I was, and that I was easy to be found. Which is all true, and part proved, since I am here."

"Still, the uniform fits you exceedingly well. The hussars hold a high place at court."

"Madame," replied he pleasantly, "I appreciate the honor, but at present my sword and fealty are sworn to my own country. And besides, I have no desire to take part in the petty squabble between this country and the kingdom."

The forecast of a storm lay in Madame's gray eyes.

"Eh? You wish to placate me, Madame?" thought Maurice.

"He is right, Madame," interposed the countess. "But away with politics!

It spoils all it touches."

"And away with the d.u.c.h.ess, too," put in Fitzgerald, reaching for a bunch of yellow grapes. "With all due respect to your cause and beliefs, Madame the d.u.c.h.ess, your mistress, is a bugbear to me. The very sound of the t.i.tle arouses in my heart all that is antagonistic."

"You have not seen her Highness, Monsieur," said Madame, quietly.

"Perhaps she is all that is desirable. She is known to be rich, her will is paramount to all others. When she sets her heart on a thing she leaves no stone unturned until she procures it. And, countess, do they not say of her that she possesses something--an attribute--more dangerous than beauty--fascination?"

"Yes, Madame."

"Madame the d.u.c.h.ess," said Maurice dryly, "has a stanch advocate in you, Madame."

"It is not unnatural."

"Be that as it may," said Fitzgerald, "she is mine enemy."

"Love your enemies, says the Book," was the interposition of the countess, who stole a sly glance at Maurice which he did not see.

"That would not be difficult--in some cases," replied the Englishman.

"Ah, come," thought Maurice, "my friend is beginning to pick up his lines." Aloud he said: "Madame, will you confer a favor on me by permitting me to inform my superior in Vienna of my whereabouts?"

"No, Monsieur; prisoners are not allowed to communicate with the outside world. Are you not enjoying yourself? Is not everything being done for your material comfort? What complaint have you to offer?"

"A gilded cage is no less a cage."

"It is but temporary. The d.u.c.h.ess has commanded that you be held until it is her pleasure to come to the chateau. O, Monsieur, where is your gallantry? Here the countess and I have done so much to amuse you, and you speak of a gilded cage!"

"Pretty bird! pretty bird!" said Maurice, in a piping voice, "will it have some caraway?"

Madame laughed. "Well, I hear the grooms leading the horses under the porte cochere. Go, then, for the morning ride. I am sorry that I can not accompany you. I have some letters to write."

Fitzgerald curled his mustache. "I'll forswear the ride myself. I was reading a good book last night; I'll finish it, and keep Madame company."

Madame trifled with the toast crumbs. Fitzgerald's profound dissimulation caused a smile to cross Maurice's lips.

"Come, countess," said Maurice, gaily; "we'll take the ride together, since Madame has to write and my lord to read."

"Five minutes until I dress," replied the countess, and she sped away.

"What a beautiful girl!" said Madame, fondly. "Poor dear! Her life has not been a bed of roses."

"No?" said Maurice, while Fitzgerald raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

"No. She was formerly a maid of honor to her Highness. She made an unhappy marriage."

"And where is the count?" asked Fitzgerald in surprise. He shot a glance of dismay at Maurice, who, translating it, smiled.

"He is dead."

Fitzgerald looked relieved.

"What a fine thing it is," said Maurice, rising, "to be a man and wed where and how you will!" He withdrew to the main hall to don his cap and spurs. As he stooped to strap the latter, he saw a sheet of paper, crinkled by recent dampness, lying on the floor. He picked it up--and read it.

"The plan you suggest is worthy of you, Madame. The Englishman is fair game, being a common enemy. Let us gain our ends through the heart, since his purse is impregnable to a.s.saults. But the countess? Why not the pantry maid, since the other is an American? They lack discrimination. The king grows weaker every day. Nothing was found in the Englishman's rooms. I fear that the consols are in the safe at the British legation. As usual, a courier will arrive each night.

B."

"Why--not--the--pantry maid?" Maurice drawled. "That is flippant." He read the message again. "What plan?" Suddenly he struck his thigh. "By George, so that is it, eh, Madame? So that is why we are so comfortably lodged here? I am in the way, and you bait the hook with a countess!

Since the purse will not lead the way, the heart, eh? Certainly I shall tell my lord the Englishman all about his hostess when I return from the ride. Decidedly you are clever. O, how careless! Not even in cipher, so that he who reads may run. And who is B.?--Beauvais! Something told me that this man had a hand in the affair. I remember the look he gave me.

A traitor, too.