The Puppet Crown [107]
on his hat. "Good night; and good luck to your leg, Captain."
"Till to-morrow," said von Mitter, who had taken a fancy to the smooth-faced young American, who seemed at home in all places.
"I am going away to-morrow," said Maurice, pressing the Lieutenant's hand. "I shall return in a day or so."
He led his horse to the hotel stables, lit a fresh cigar and promenaded the terrace. "Some day," he mused, "perhaps I'll be able to do something for myself. To-morrow we'll take a look at Fitzgerald's affairs, like the good fairy we are. If the Colonel is there, so much the worse for one or the other of us." He laughed contentedly. "Beauvais took my warning and lit out, or his henchman would never have made a botch of the abduction. It is my opinion that Madame wanted a hostage, for it is impossible to conceive that the man made the attempt on his own responsibility. I shall return to the duchy in a semi-official character as an envoy extraordinary to look into the whereabouts of one Lord Fitzgerald. Devil take me, but I did make a mess of it when I slapped him on the shoulder that night." The princess had not addressed a word to him. Why?
When the princess and her maid of honor had passed through the kitchens into the princess's boudoir, the maid suddenly caught her mistress's hand and imprinted a hasty kiss on it, to the latter's surprise and agitation. There was something in that kiss which came nearer to sincere affection than Mademoiselle Bachelier had ever shown before.
"Camille?"
"God bless your Highness!" whispered the girl, again pressing the cold hand to her lips. What had given rise to this new-born affection she herself could not say, but a sudden wave of pity rushed into her heart. Perhaps it was because she loved and was loved that caused this expansion of heart toward her mistress, who was likely never to love or beget love, who stood so lonely. Tears came into her eyes.
"You are hysterical!" said the princess.
"No; it is because--because--" She stopped and a blush suffused her face and temples.
The princess took the face between her hands and gazed long and earnestly into it. "Have you discovered a belated pity in your heart for me? Or is it because you thought him wounded unto death, and he was not?"
"It is both!" weeping.
The princess put her arms around the maid. "And you weep for happiness? Let us weep together, then; only--I can not weep for happiness."
To return to the flight of Kopf. As he dashed down the road he heard two reports. At the second he experienced a terrible burning blow under the right shoulder-blade, and immediately his arm became paralyzed. He coughed. With a supreme effort he managed to recover his balance. Already his collar-bone had been cracked by a bullet either from von Mitter or from Scharfenstein.
"God's curse on them all!" he sobbed, pushing his knees into his horse; "God's curse!" He bit his lips; and when he drew his breath the pain which followed almost robbed him of his senses. Behind him the sound of hoofs came no nearer; he had a chance. He could not look back to see if he gained, however, as his neck was stiffening.
"Curse him and his damned gold! He never warned me as he said he would." On he rode. The moon became obscured, and when it flashed again he could see it but indistinctly. . . . To reach the city, to reach Gertrude's, to give the horse a cut and send him adrift, this was his endeavor. But would he reach the city-- alive? Was he dying? He could not see . . . Yet again he shut his jaws and drew on his entire strength. He was keeping in the saddle by will power alone. If the horse faltered he was lost. To Gertrude; she could use them. And after all he loved her. If he died she would be provided for.
The first of the city lamps. He sobbed. Into this street he turned, into that, expecting each moment to be challenged, for the white saddle blanket of the cuirassiers stood out conspicuously. At last he had but a corner to turn. He stopped, slid from the saddle and gave the animal
"Till to-morrow," said von Mitter, who had taken a fancy to the smooth-faced young American, who seemed at home in all places.
"I am going away to-morrow," said Maurice, pressing the Lieutenant's hand. "I shall return in a day or so."
He led his horse to the hotel stables, lit a fresh cigar and promenaded the terrace. "Some day," he mused, "perhaps I'll be able to do something for myself. To-morrow we'll take a look at Fitzgerald's affairs, like the good fairy we are. If the Colonel is there, so much the worse for one or the other of us." He laughed contentedly. "Beauvais took my warning and lit out, or his henchman would never have made a botch of the abduction. It is my opinion that Madame wanted a hostage, for it is impossible to conceive that the man made the attempt on his own responsibility. I shall return to the duchy in a semi-official character as an envoy extraordinary to look into the whereabouts of one Lord Fitzgerald. Devil take me, but I did make a mess of it when I slapped him on the shoulder that night." The princess had not addressed a word to him. Why?
When the princess and her maid of honor had passed through the kitchens into the princess's boudoir, the maid suddenly caught her mistress's hand and imprinted a hasty kiss on it, to the latter's surprise and agitation. There was something in that kiss which came nearer to sincere affection than Mademoiselle Bachelier had ever shown before.
"Camille?"
"God bless your Highness!" whispered the girl, again pressing the cold hand to her lips. What had given rise to this new-born affection she herself could not say, but a sudden wave of pity rushed into her heart. Perhaps it was because she loved and was loved that caused this expansion of heart toward her mistress, who was likely never to love or beget love, who stood so lonely. Tears came into her eyes.
"You are hysterical!" said the princess.
"No; it is because--because--" She stopped and a blush suffused her face and temples.
The princess took the face between her hands and gazed long and earnestly into it. "Have you discovered a belated pity in your heart for me? Or is it because you thought him wounded unto death, and he was not?"
"It is both!" weeping.
The princess put her arms around the maid. "And you weep for happiness? Let us weep together, then; only--I can not weep for happiness."
To return to the flight of Kopf. As he dashed down the road he heard two reports. At the second he experienced a terrible burning blow under the right shoulder-blade, and immediately his arm became paralyzed. He coughed. With a supreme effort he managed to recover his balance. Already his collar-bone had been cracked by a bullet either from von Mitter or from Scharfenstein.
"God's curse on them all!" he sobbed, pushing his knees into his horse; "God's curse!" He bit his lips; and when he drew his breath the pain which followed almost robbed him of his senses. Behind him the sound of hoofs came no nearer; he had a chance. He could not look back to see if he gained, however, as his neck was stiffening.
"Curse him and his damned gold! He never warned me as he said he would." On he rode. The moon became obscured, and when it flashed again he could see it but indistinctly. . . . To reach the city, to reach Gertrude's, to give the horse a cut and send him adrift, this was his endeavor. But would he reach the city-- alive? Was he dying? He could not see . . . Yet again he shut his jaws and drew on his entire strength. He was keeping in the saddle by will power alone. If the horse faltered he was lost. To Gertrude; she could use them. And after all he loved her. If he died she would be provided for.
The first of the city lamps. He sobbed. Into this street he turned, into that, expecting each moment to be challenged, for the white saddle blanket of the cuirassiers stood out conspicuously. At last he had but a corner to turn. He stopped, slid from the saddle and gave the animal