The second morning after the ball I arose early—in fact, just as the bugles of the garrison were sounding reveille—and went for a horseback ride into the country. Though I knew about all the roads in the vicinity, I confess it never occurred to me to take any but that which led toward the Summer Palace and the place where I had first met the Princess.
It may be some will scoff at this, but I venture that by far the majority will deem it only natural. For myself I may further admit that I ordered my horse the night before for no other purpose; and I have no excuse to offer. From all of which it may be inferred that I, at least, was scarcely likely to be artistic long in a certain flirtation.
I had thought it all over during the last thirty-six hours, and, as I jogged through the streets, I went over with it again—and always with the same result: I would enjoy it while it lasted. Afterward—well, afterward would be time enough when it came. So I shrugged my shoulders and returned the salute of the officer at the gate and rode out into the open country.
I had gone, possibly, a mile when there came the beat of running hoofs behind me and rapidly nearing. Thinking it might be a messenger from the Embassy I swung around in saddle—only to find the front horse was ridden by a woman and the other by a groom.
My first thought was: "The Princess!" my next: "By Jove, she rides well!" Then something familiar in seat and figure struck me and I recognized Lady Helen Radnor. Evidently she had already made me out, for she waved her crop and pulled down to a canter. Here was an end to my solitary ride; I turned back to meet her.
"Why, Major Dalberg, what luck!" she cried. "One might imagine we were in Washington again."
"What need for Washington," said I, "since we are here?"
"True! It's always the people that make the place," she laughed.
"Then you like Dornlitz as well as Washington?"
"Yes, lately."
"If I were at all conceited I would guess that 'lately' meant——"
"Yes?" she asked.
"But as I'm not conceited I won't guess."
"I'm afraid it's not quite the same, then, as in Washington!"
I made no reply.
"There, you would have been ready to believe I followed you intentionally."
"Did you ever do that?" I asked.
She laughed. "We are quits now."
"Then I may ride with you?"
"Surely—why do you think I overtook you?"
I bowed to my horse's neck. "I am flattered," I said.
"You ought to be, sir."
I looked at her quickly. It was said, it seemed to me, a bit sharply; but she gave me only the usual mocking smile.
"Where shall we go?" I asked.
"You have no choice?"
"None—all roads are alike delightful now. Besides, you forget I came here only two days ago; this is my first ride since then."
"Then, suppose we go out by the Forge and around by the hill road above the Palace?"
"You must be the guide," I replied.
"Come along, then; we turn to the right here."
"Only"——I began.
"Oh! I'll have you back in time for breakfast," she cut in. "That was what you meant?"
"Your Ladyship is a mind reader."
"Nonsense! I'm human enough to have an appetite, too."
"Perhaps there is an inn on the way," I suggested. (There was none six years ago.)
She shook her head. "There's nothing to eat before Dornlitz, if we go that route."
"Some day we must find one that has a breakfast on it," said I.
"There are several; I know them well," she said.
"Good; and you will take me to them?"
"It will be jolly."
"I am very lucky to have you in Dornlitz," I said gratefully.
She smiled sweetly. "Maybe I'm lucky, too," she said.
It brought me up with a jerk. It was folly to be serious with her—she was only bantering as usual.
"It's none of my affair, of course," I said with assumed sadness, "but I would like to know how many poor devils have gone down before that smile in the last six years."
"You mean?"
"That you're the most consummate coquette I know."
"Is that a compliment?" she asked.
"That depends."
"Upon what?"
"Upon the way you use your power."
She hesitated a moment. "Have I ever used it improperly to your knowledge?" she asked.
I dodged the question. "You admit the power, then?"
"I admit nothing, except that I do not like to be called a coquette."
I saw she was in earnest here; there was almost a choke in her voice.
"But I would not have you otherwise," I objected.
She shook her bead. "You say that only because you think you hurt me."
"Don't you know your bright and happy disposition is a thing beyond price?" I argued.
"I know its price is heavy—I have paid it to you just now—I am paying it every day of my life." There were tears in the voice.
I was at a loss what to say. A man is an awkward comforter at best, and when he is guilty of bringing on the trouble, he is sure only to make a worse mess of it. So I held my tongue and we rode a while in silence.
She spoke first. "I know you are quite justified in your notion of me," she said. "I have given you every reason to call me coquette, flirt, or anything of that sort."
I raised my hand in protest.
"No, let me finish," she went on. "I have only myself to blame for it. I was warned against you before I ever saw you; and, so, I tried to play your own game from the start." (I hope I had the grace to blush; I think I had.) "But the other night, somehow, the game got too fast for me—and I—well, I bungled. But whether you believe me or not, Major Dalberg, I want to say, as a solace to myself, at least, that you are the only man who ever kissed my face."
I have smelled considerable powder in active service, and I think I may say I have a fair amount of courage, but it had all oozed away before the grieving tones and melting eyes of beauty in distress; and in another moment I should have cut and run like the rankest coward. For, what would you? A handsome woman (none I had ever seen, not even the Princess, surpassed her) almost in tears beside you—and all because of your own clumsy tongue and heavy sense.
I opened my mouth to speak; but the words did not come. In truth, my brain would not act. I was vacant of ideas. And so she waited; while our horses walked with heads together, friendly as old stable chums. Then I found my tongue.
"My dear Lady Helen," I said, "I owe you an apology for what I did that night."
"You owe me nothing," she broke in. "You know perfectly well that when a woman is kissed in that way she has only herself to blame."
"But it takes two to make a bargain," I insisted; "and it was I who did it."
"Tell me," she demanded, "tell me honestly; you didn't imagine I would be angry?—you felt perfectly easy about it at the time?"
I bungled again, of course: I hesitated.
She laughed scornfully. "You have answered me, Major Dalberg."
"No," said I, "I have not. You were angry at the instant, though you chose to act otherwise. I thought so, then; I am sure of it now."
A feeble smile touched her lips. "Confess, that you then thought the anger only assumed."
"Didn't you act deliberately to make me think so?"
"After you had kissed me," she said, half defiantly, "what mattered it if I played it on to the end?"
"And you did it beautifully," I agreed.
"So beautifully that you intimated I proposed playing it all over again with your friend Courtney."
"You wrong me there," I objected.
She shrugged her shoulders.
"I was annoyed at your going off with him."
She turned and looked me in the eyes. "You might, at least, spare me the discourtesy of flippancy," she said.
"But I am serious, I assure you," I insisted.
She smiled incredulously. "I am so sorry to have bored you, Major Dalberg——"
"But you don't understand——" I protested.
"Please let us drop the subject," she interrupted. "Don't you think that a pretty view?" and she pointed with her crop to a mite of a lake below us, flashing through the trees.
I hope I did not show in my face how willing I was to change the subject; and I know I tried to keep it out of my voice. But I fear I grew altogether too enthusiastic over the bit of scenery for, presently, Lady Helen remarked dryly:
"One would never imagine you a lover of—nature."
I pulled myself up sharply. "Are my looks so much against me?"
"I don't see that looks have anything to do with it. I mean one does not associate such tastes with professional soldiers. Nature, to them, would normally represent only obstacles to overcome or advantages to be utilized."
"But men do not look at everything through their professional eyes," I laughed. "If they did, every lawyer when he saw you would have but the one thought: 'What a glorious plaintiff for a breach of promise case.'"
"I suppose you think that complimentary," she said.
"It was not so intended."
"I trust not."
"I used it only to illustrate the proposition."
"Are you trying to make me quarrel with you?" she demanded.
"Surely not."
"Then let us avoid the personal."
"I will do anything to preserve the peace," I said—"and be shown those other rides."
"The peace depends entirely upon yourself."
"And the rides?"
She studied her gloves a bit. "They depend upon your good behavior and—the future." And now, something of the old sweetness was in her smile.
"Then the rides are sure," I said. "Come, let us give the horses a chance to stretch themselves."
We pulled up at the Old Forge; a smithy long deserted and now almost hidden beneath vines and undergrowth. It lay at the crossways of two roads—like a log on a saw-buck—and our route was around it to the left. Just beside the track a spring bubbled out into a wide rock basin. At the basin a tall bay horse was drinking; and in the saddle, with hands clasped around the pommel, sat the Princess Dehra, so deep in thought she did not note our approach.
It was the horse who aroused her by the nervous upward fling of his head. Then she held out her hand to Lady Helen—and gave me a smile.
"I am not the only one, then, who likes the early morning?" she said.
"It's the cream of the day," said Lady Helen.
"Rather the champagne of the day," the Princess answered. Then she laughed. "I forgot, Major Dalberg, it isn't well to take champagne before breakfast."
"I prefer coffee, I admit," said I.
"Are you two going anywhere in particular?" she asked.
"Straight back to town," said Lady Helen; "don't you see Major Dalberg wants his breakfast?"
"And your Ladyship?" the Princess questioned.
Lady Helen laughed. "I am very human, too, I fear."
"Then, why not breakfast with me at the Summer Palace?" said Dehra.
"We shall be delighted," said Lady Helen, without even questioning me by a glance.
"Your Royal Highness is too gracious," I protested. "I fear I shall——"
Dehra raised her crop. "There is only one shaft, sir; you shall come with us."
So I went; even while my better judgment bade me turn bridle and gallop away. A man is very helpless with one pretty woman; he is utterly at the mercy of two.
Presently we passed the place where the Princess and I had met six years before. I glanced across and found her eyes on me. I nodded toward the spot where I had removed the stone from the mare's hoof, and she nodded back in answer.
"This is a very charming road," I said.
"It's a favorite with Your Highness, is it not?" asked Lady Helen. "I have often met you on it."
I affected to be interested in something beside the track.
"Yes, I believe it is," Dehra answered carelessly. "It is soft for the horse and little travelled and I enjoy the quiet of the forest." Then she deliberately turned and smiled at me. And Lady Helen saw it.
At the top of the hill above the Palace the way narrowed and I fell behind; and, dismounting, I affected to be fixing something about the girth. I wanted to see the Princess go down that tree-lined way as once before I had seen her. Then they came to the bend; and, leaning against my horse's shoulder, I waited. Would she remember?
Suddenly, she turned and waved her hand, exactly as she had done that other time; only, this time, it was a beckon to follow, not a farewell. I sprang to saddle and dashed ahead, almost fearing to find her vanished and it only a dream. When I rounded the corner, the Princess and Lady Helen were turning into the drive that led from the road to the Palace; and, once again, Dehra waved me onward.
They awaited me at the gate; and, with the guard standing at attention, we rode into the grounds. I noticed that the Princess acknowledged the salute with her crop as though it were a sword. I had returned it with my hand.
"Your way is the correct one," she said.
"But yours is much the prettier," I answered.
"Maybe that's why I used it," she laughed.
"It is sufficient justification," I assured her.
"His Majesty does not think so—he insists that the Colonel of the Blue Guards should conform to the regulations."
"I salute my superior officer," I said, and used my crop as she had done.
"How delightful to be a Colonel," said Lady Helen. "I would wear the uniform all the time—if it were becoming."
"How could it be otherwise?" I exclaimed.
"No sarcasm, sir," she said sharply.
"No, Major Dalberg, no sarcasm," Dehra cautioned, "or you will be asking, presently, if I won my commission on the field of battle."
"I would rather not imagine you on the field of battle," I answered.
"Well, you needn't," she laughed. "It's an infliction of birth. It belongs to the eldest child of the King without regard to sex."
"It's a pity, in your case, the crown does not follow the Colonelcy," I thought—but I did not say it.
At one of the private entrances we drew up. The Princess was out of saddle as quickly as myself; but the Lady Helen waited.
"If you don't want to stay I can contrive some excuse," she whispered, as I lifted her down.
"I'm quite willing to risk a royal breakfast if you are," I answered.
"Brave man," she mocked, gathering up her skirt; "you wouldn't flinch at leading a forlorn hope."
"Watch me follow one," I retorted, as I brought up the rear.
"Which one?" she asked over her shoulder; but I did not answer.
The breakfast was served in a charming little room—which I assumed to be a portion of the Princess' private suite—and was of the sort to provoke more early morning rides along the Old Forge Road.
"This may be a bit unconventional," said Dehra, addressing Lady Helen, rather than me, "but, if the English Ambassador can stand it, I will answer for the King of Valeria."
"And I'll answer for the American Ambassador," I volunteered.
"Then the others don't matter," Lady Helen laughed.
"You surely have relieved us very much, Major Dalberg," the Princess added. "Lady Helen and I have been so concerned for your reputation; you risk so much, you know, in breakfasting alone with two unmarried young women."
"I'm quite sensible of my danger," I answered, and looked blandly from one to the other.
The Princess kept her eyes on her plate; but Lady Helen gazed at me in some surprise.
"If you're not better behaved, sir, I'll take you away at once," she said.
"You're only putting a premium on a continuance of it," said Dehra.
"No, I'm not, Your Highness; he hasn't finished his breakfast."
"You're very wise," the Princess laughed.
Lady Helen shook her head. "You see, I've known Major Dalberg a long time," she said.
"Oh! then you had met before the night of the Ball?"
I looked at Dehra wonderingly. Had she forgotten that I myself had told her, on the terrace, how long I had known the Radnors.
"We were old dinner and cotillon partners in Washington," Lady Helen explained. "He was very kind to me there."
"That wasn't a very difficult task, was it, Major Dalberg?" Dehra asked, fixing her blue eyes on my face.
"Please, Your Highness—please," exclaimed Lady Helen, holding up her hands.
"I think," I replied, "that Lady Helen is, in herself, the best answer to Your Highness's question."
Just then there came a step in the corridor and the King stood in the doorway.
"Good morning, Lady Helen," he said, taking her fingers and raising them to his lips in the beautiful old-fashion; "it is a pleasure to see you here again." Then he bent and kissed Dehra on the forehead, and turning to me said, extending his hand: "And, Major Dalberg, you are very welcome."
Frederick was monarch of a powerful nation, but he could, if he so wished, make those about him forget his crown and see only the quiet-mannered gentleman. With a word of excuse to us he drew the Princess aside to a window embrasure. I turned to Lady Helen.
"So," said I, "you've been here before?"
She smiled.
"And this is not your first breakfast with Her Highness?" I went on.
Another smile.
"And, doubtless, you have often met her at the Old Forge?"
Once again a smile.
"And were engaged to meet her there this morning?"
"You are too discerning, Major," she said, with a shrug. "You should have been a detective."
"Quite right," I agreed. "I am always the last to detect a plot or to find the criminal."
She looked at me through half-closed eyes.
"Which means?"
I gave her back a look in kind. "Whatever you would."
She toyed with her rings a bit. "Why should I deliberately bring you and the Princess together?" she demanded.
"Why, indeed?" said I.
"You are of the Blood:—the Palace is open to you."
I raised my hand sharply in warning.
She glanced over my shoulder, toward the window, with a derisive smile. "True, the Princess might wonder how I knew."
I made no answer.
"And the explanation would be a trifle difficult," she appended.
"Do you think she would ask an explanation?" I inquired.
She smiled. "No; you would have to volunteer it."
"That would be easy," I said indifferently.
"Surely! Surely! it would be easy to tell the Princess Royal that you were so confidential with Lady Helen Radnor, on the terrace at the Birthday Ball, that you told her the secret of your cousinship—try it, Major Dalberg, try it—it will be so easy," and she laughed softly.
"I rather think I shall," said I, looking her in the eye. "I prefer that she hear it from me."
Her mood changed instantly. "You don't trust me?" she said.
I leaned forward and said. "I trust you entirely; surely, you know that!"
"And you will believe I had no appointment to meet the Princess?"
"If you wish it," I said.
Then the King and the Princess returned to the table.
"Are you in haste to return?" the King asked Lady Helen.
"None whatever, sire," she replied.
"And you, Major Dalberg?" he asked.
"I am at Your Majesty's service," said I, bowing.
"Then, if the ladies will excuse you for a short while?"
"Don't make it too short, sire," said Lady Helen—and then the door closed and saved me a reply; which, doubtless, was as well, for I have not yet thought of a good one.
"Bright girl, that," said the King.
"Yes," said I, "embarrassingly bright at times."
"Was she in Washington with Radnor?"
"Yes; I knew her there."
"Then you don't need to be warned."
I was silent.
"She has incapacitated half my military household with lacerated hearts or, indirectly, with punctured bodies; there is small difference."
"Better have only married officers," I suggested.
"Lord, sir, they are the first victims. Immunes are what I want."
"Like myself, for instance," said I.
He turned and put his hand on my shoulder. "I've had plenty like you, lad," he said kindly.
I laughed. "Then I may not hope for a place at Court?" I asked—and straightway wondered why I had asked it.
We had just come to a small door, before which paced a soldier of the Guard, and the King made no reply until we were in his private library and he had motioned me to a chair and an assortment of pipes and cigars.
"It was something of that sort that I want to discuss with you, if I may," he said.
"If you may?" I echoed.
He nodded. "You are a subject of the United States and a representative of its government at my Court."
"I had forgotten their significance," I admitted.
"But, with your permission, we can lay aside our officialism and hold a family conference."
The idea of my holding a family conference with the King of Valeria! I smiled involuntarily; and Frederick saw it.
"Don't you feel quite at home in the family, yet, my lad?" he asked.
"It is not Your Majesty's fault if I don't," said I; "but royalty is a bit new and strange to me."
He laughed heartily. "You are quite too modest, Armand. You spoke of a place at Court; would you accept one?"
"Surely, sire, you knew I was only jesting!" I exclaimed.
"Of course," said he; "but I'm not. I am entirely serious."
"I suppose," said I, "I'm as ambitious as most men."
"A little more so, if you're a good Dalberg," the King interjected.
"But am I a good Dalberg?"
He waved his hand toward a mirror in the wall. "Use your eyes," he said.
"I don't mean physically," I objected.
"I am very willing to trust Nature. She didn't give you old Henry's body and then mock it with inferior abilities."
I shook my head.
"Besides," he went on, "I admit I have had a report on you from my Ambassador at Washington."
"I trust," said I, with a laugh, "it has left me a few shreds of repute."
"It didn't hurt you much, my lad."
That was the third time he had called me his "lad."
"Your Majesty then offers me a title and a place at Court?"
The King smiled. "Yes," said he; "a high title and a high place."
I pulled on my cigar and tried to think. But, on every cloud of smoke, I seemed to see the Princess; and all my brain knew was the single idea: "It will bring me within reach of her." I got up sharply and paced the room, until I threw off the foolish notion and could look at the matter in its true proportions.
"Tell me, Your Majesty," I said, "if I accept, will I be regarded as a legitimate descendant of the House of Dalberg or as of a morganatic marriage?"
The King nodded. "I had anticipated that would be your first question. You will be legitimate."
"But," said I, "if I understand the canons of royalty, my great-grandfather having married one not of royal rank his descendants are, as regards the House of Valeria, illegitimate."
"As a general proposition that is true; but it happens that your case is a peculiar exception."
"I am glad," said I; "otherwise we had reached an end of the matter."
"That, Major, is one of your American notions," said the King; "there is no disgrace in morganatic marriages."
"It's all a question of national taste," said I; "and you know, sire, 'de gustibus non'——"
He drummed with his fingers a moment on the table.
"I have some unhandy views, possibly," said I.
"Oh, you will soon outgrow them," he returned; "only, it may be a trifle awkward if you parade them."
"But, maybe, I shall not care to outgrow them." I objected. "And, then, there is another notion—American, too, doubtless—which I fear will be a final bar."
"Nonsense, Armand," said the King, a bit sharply. "What other objection can even an American raise?"
"This, sire," said I: "When Hugo left Dornlitz his estates were forfeited, his titles were revoked and his name was stricken from the family roll. How can he now, after a century and a quarter, be rehabilitated?"
"The King, as Head of our House, has full power."
"Yes, I know; his power in the family is limitless, save that he may not change the succession to the Crown in favor of a female—more's the pity. But, while Your Majesty may make me a Duke, or even a Prince, yet that will not give back to Hugo the rights he was deprived of by his arbitrary father."
The King smiled indulgently. "For an American you have a large fund of sentiment."
"That is the Dalberg in me, doubtless," I replied.
"Then, sir. I understand that—because your great-grandfather didn't live for one hundred and forty years and so be able now to receive, in the flesh, the edict of restoration—you, his eldest male heir, refuse to accept your rights; the rights that come to you through him?"
"No, that's not exactly it; it's this: For Your Majesty, now, to restore me to the Family Roll, can be done only upon the hypothesis that all of Hugo's descendants have been debruised by the bar sinister—the very act of restoration presupposes such disqualification."
"You forget I said you were legitimate," said the King.
"By your grace; not by old Henry's," I objected.
"But, recall that Hugo himself was offered his titles and rights by his brother and that he declined them."
"Yes; that is just the point," said I: "he declined them."
Frederick took a fresh cigar and lit it carefully, blowing the smoke in tiny rings to the ceiling.
"I think I understand now," he said. "You will decline our offer because it necessitates the restoration now, of Hugo's descendants, to the Family Roll?"
I bowed in silence.
"It's a great pity," he said, sadly. "Otherwise, if Hugo had, in effect, never been disinherited and if the legitimacy of his descendants had been specifically preserved by Royal Decree, you would accept our offer?"
"Yes," said I—"or, at least, I would give it serious consideration," I added with a laugh.
The King turned slowly and, for a space, kept his eyes fixed steadily on my face, as though searching there for an answer to something about which his mind was undecided. Have you ever had a monarch or one high in authority look at you so? If you have, you are likely to remember it many days.
Then he arose abruptly and, crossing to a large vault built in a far corner, returned with a heavy black box curiously bound with brass and inlaid with silver. Placing it on the table between us, he took from his watch chain a small antique key and pushing it, with a queer side-motion, into the lock, it opened with a sharp snap, and he threw back the lid.
"I wonder," said he, as he lifted out a thick leather-covered book with heavy metal hinges, "if there are many Americans whom it would be so difficult to persuade to accept a royal title?"
"I fancy it would be much the same with all the truly representative old American families," said I.
He shrugged his shoulders. "Then, for the credit of America, it's a pity Europe does not know some of those same old families; if they are the Country's true Nobility."
"Yes, but not Nobility on European lines," said I. "They are theworthydescendants of those who founded the Nation; and the proudest patent is a commission from King or Colony or from the Continental Congress in the Revolution."
The King smiled. "Isn't that every Nation's Nobility—the descendants of the officers who helped their chief to establish a kingdom?"
"It may be so," I answered; "but the systems are wide apart. You will observe, I said theworthydescendants. In America it needs manhood as well as birthright—gentle living as well as gentle blood."
"While with us it needs only gentle blood, you mean?" said Frederick, good naturedly. "Well, we shall not argue over the matter; and, particularly, since the Dalbergs have no fault to find with their representative among the American Nobility; it's rather he who is ashamed of his Valerian relatives."
"I am quite satisfied with the two I've met," I protested.
"So well, indeed, with one of them that you kissed her instantly," the King laughed.
"And am glad, now, I did it. I shall never have another chance."
He shot a quick glance at me, as he opened the book and began to turn the heavy parchment pages, which I could see were illumined in beautiful colors and with strange, large lettering. Presently, these ended and the characters seemed to be in ancient script, which, gradually grew more modern. At one of these later pages, the King stopped and addressed me:
"You have said that, unless Hugo's rights and the Dalberg legitimacy of his descendants were preserved, by special Decree, made during Hugo's life, you would decline to return to Court." He paused a moment, then went on: "It would almost seem that old Henry had some presentiment of a certain stubborn-minded grandchild, for he provided for just such a condition as you have made. This book is the Laws of the House of Dalberg. Listen to what is written touching Hugo, son of Henry the Third."
Instinctively, I arose and stood at attention.
The King read:
"Section one-hundred twenty-first—For inasmuch as our second son, Hugo, hath, in defiance of our specific prohibition, this day left our Kingdom and gone over Sea to the North American Colonies of Great Britain, there to join the forces of one, George Washington, who is leading a revolt against his lawful sovereign, the King of England, with whom I am at peace; It is hereby decreed that the said Hugo shall forfeit all titles and emoluments heretofore conferred, and his name is hereby stricken from the Family Roll. From this day he ceaseth to be a Dalberg of Valeria."HENRY III, Rex."Ye 17th October, A.D., 1777."
Frederick glanced up. "That was the judgment," said he. "Listen, now, to the pardon:—
"Section one-hundred twenty-fifth—Whereas, we have learned that our second son, Hugo, hath served with much honour in the American Army under General Washington, and hath, since the termination of hostilities, married into a good family in one of the said American States, called Maryland, and hath assumed residence therein; and whereas he hath never sought aid from us nor sued for pardon; Now, therefore, in recognition of his valour and self-reliance and true Dalberg independence, it is decreed that Section one-hundred twenty-one, supra, be annulled; and Hugo's name is hereby reinstated on the Family Roll in its proper place, the same as though never stricken therefrom. And it is further decreed that the marriage of Hugo and the marriages of his descendants shall be deemed valid and lawful, the same as though their respective consorts were of the Blood Royal."
"Is that sufficiently definite, sir?" the King asked.
"It is very extraordinary," I said, in wonder.
"There is a bit more," he said, and resumed reading:
"The titles conferred upon Hugo shall, however, remain in abeyance until claimed anew by him or by his right heir male; nor shall the latter be eligible to the Crown unless hereinafter specifically decreed so to be—or, in event of a vacancy in the royal dignity without such decree having been so made, then, by special Act of the House of Nobles."HENRY III., Rex,"Ye 7th September, A.D. 1785."
The King closed the book. "That," said he, "is the record," and motioned me to sit down.
I obeyed mechanically. Through my head was ringing those last few words that made possible the Crown of my ancestors. Under the Decree I was, de jure, the eldest male after the King; it needed only his act to make me his successor. A single line, sealed with his seal, in that big book just beside me, and plain Armand Dalberg, Major in the Army of the United States of America, would be Heir Presumptive to one of the great Kingdoms of Earth. And Dehra! I could get no further. Crown and Kingdom faded and I saw only a woman's face.——
Then the King coughed, and I came sharply back to life, and visions fled. But, even then, realities seemed almost visions, still.
I turned to the King. "Will Your Majesty permit me a few days to consider the matter?" I asked.
"As many as you wish, my boy," he said kindly.
"It is all so extraordinary. I am in no condition to look at it with even reasonable judgment."
"I think," said he, "I can quite understand."
"But there is something I can foresee, even now," said I.
The King smiled. "Trouble?"
"Yes, trouble in plenty."
"But if the price be worth it all?" he asked, studying a smoke ring as it floated lazily upward.
"The trouble does not bother me."
"Oh!" said he, "I know that."
"Then, may I ask," said I, "if the Duke of Lotzen knows of these Decrees?"
"The Heir Presumptive is always made acquainted with the Laws of his House."
"What, think you, then, Sire, would be his attitude in such an anomalous situation as would follow my presence in Valeria as Hugo's heir?"
"You mean, how would he view a rival for the Crown?"
"Well, that's a bit broader than I intended," said I.
The King laughed. "There is no need for us to mince words—the matter is perfectly evident. Under the Law, here, it needs but my Decree to make you eligible to the Crown; and that necessarily would displace Lotzen and make you Heir Presumptive. How do you think he would view it?"
"How would any man view it?" I asked.
"But what have Lotzen's views to do with the matter?" Frederick asked sharply. "I am the King; here are the Laws. What Dalberg would dispute them?"
"But, Your Majesty, Lotzen might not be alone in disputing them—the Army and the House of Nobles might join him. And, assuming that you would never intend to displace Lotzen by me, nevertheless, you would be put into the embarrassing position of seeming to be coerced by your subjects."
"Coerced! Coerced!" said Frederick, flinging his cigar savagely into the grate. "Do I hear a Dalberg fear that for his King?"
"Nay, Sire," I protested, "I did not say that."
But the anger had already passed. "Nonsense, lad, I understand you," he said; "only, I know my Kingdom better than you do—yet," and he laughed.
But I protested again. "Would it not be wiser for me to consider the question only upon the hypothesis that Lotzen shall not be displaced———?"
"Don't be a fool, Armand," Frederick cut in. "Of course, I cannot prevent your renouncing all right to the Crown, but it will be most displeasing to me and against my express wish."
"Your Majesty is very flattering."
"His Majesty is very selfish. Since he has no son, he wants the privilege of choosing his successor."
So he meant to give me a chance to win the Crown! I shut my eyes; there was too much satisfaction in them. Yet, I felt almost ashamed. I had sneered so often at Courtney and his suggestions; had called him a fool and his words nonsense—even a short half hour ago I would have done the same again. And now!—Truly there was something strangely impressive and powerfully alluring about that big, brass-bound book, with its Royal restitution and honors and the glorious opportunity extended. Would any man—nay, would any half-man refuse?
Then I opened my eyes and met the King's kindly smile.
"Did the prospect blind you?" he asked.
"Yes," said I, "it did—maybe my eyes are too weak ever to bear the bright light of royalty."
"Never fear, lad, never fear; they will soon strengthen. Ask Courtney, if you care to make him a confidant. I am very sure of his advice in the matter."
"So am I," said I.
"Any man's would be the same—your own to one in a similar position."
I could not deny it; but I would make no decision under the present influences. I must have a season of calm thought and careful judgment.
The King waited a moment. "Well, take your own good pleasure, Armand," said he; "only, the sooner you come to Court the less time you will waste."
Of course, I saw his meaning. "I shall ask but one day, at the most."
"Good," said he. "This is Friday—dine with Dehra and me here to-morrow evening. Come by the private entrance."
Then we went back to the Princess and Lady Helen. But what a different life had opened to me in the short absence.