The Colonel of the Red Huzzars. John Reed Scott
a very happy one, I fancy."
Courtney stared at me. "How so?" he said.
"He can now both keep his daughter and be rid of Murdol."
"The Princess is saved, of course, but in deference to the national self-respect, he dare give up Murdol only in one contingency:—if Titia can be persuaded to pay a money value for it. Which I doubt."
I said nothing. I, too, doubted.
"However, it's not important to us," said he. "Whatever the outcome the lady will be here long enough for you to lose the wager."
"Damn the wager," I exclaimed.
"Damn everything you have a mind to, my dear fellow," he encouraged.
"And you in particular," I said.
"Wherefore, my dear Major?" he laughed.
"For suggesting this fool thing."
"Poor boy! I should have regarded your youthful impetuosity."
I shrugged my shoulders.
"And grey hairs," he added.
"I've a mind to toss you out of the carriage," said I.
"Do it—and save me the trouble of getting myself out," he answered; and then we drew under the porte cochère at the Embassy.
The matter of a residence had not bothered Courtney. He simply took General Russell's lease off his hands, and twenty thousand a year rent with it. I was to live at the Legation, there being no Ambassadorial women folks to make the staff de trop. Naturally, I was quite satisfied. It was a bit preferable to hotel hospitality. And, then, the assistants were good fellows.
Cosgrove, who had been First Secretary for ten years, was from the estate next my own on the Eastern Shore. It was through him I had been able to preserve my incog. so securely during my former visits to Valeria. And if he had any curiosity as to my motives, he was courteous enough never to show it. "The best assistant in Europe," Courtney had once pronounced him.
Then there was Pryor, the Naval Attaché. He had been off "cruising with the Army," as Cosgrove put it, pending my arrival and was not yet returned to Dornlitz. The others of the office force were young fellows—rich boys, either in presente or futuro—who, likely, could only be depended upon to do the wrong thing. Being fit for nothing at home, therefore, they had been considered to be particularly well qualified for the American diplomatic service.
My room overlooked the Avenue, and the writing-desk was near the window. I was drawing the formal report to the War Department of my arrival at Dornlitz and the status political and military, when the clatter of hoofs on the driveway drew my attention. It was a tall officer in the green-and-gold of the Royal Guards, and pulling up sharply he tossed his rein to his orderly. I heard the door open and voices in the hall; and, then, in a few minutes, he came out and rode away, with the stiff, hard seat of the European cavalryman. I was still watching him when Courtney entered.
"What do you think of him?" he asked.
"I haven't seen enough of him to think," said I.
"Not even enough to wonder who he is?"
I yawned. "His uniform tells me he is a colonel of the Guard."
"But nothing else?"
"I can read a bit more."
"From the uniform?" he asked.
I nodded.
"You're a veritable Daniel," Courtney laughed. "What saith the writing—or rather, what saith the uniform?"
"It's very simple to those who read uniforms."
"So!" said he. "I await the interpretation."
"It's too easy," I retorted. "A Point Plebe could do it. Your visitor was one of His Majesty's Aides-de-Camp bearing an invitation to the ball at the Palace to-night."
For once I saw Courtney's face show surprise.
"How did you guess it?" he said, after a pause.
"A diplomat should watch the newspapers," said I, and pointed to this item in the Court News of that morning's issue:
"His Excellency the Honorable Richard Courtney, the newly accredited American Ambassador, is expected to arrive to-day. He is accompanied by Major Dalberg, the Military Attaché. His Majesty has ordered his Aide-de-Camp, Colonel Bernheim, to invite them to the Birthday Ball to-night; where they will be honored by a special presentation."
Courtney read it carefully. "At last I see the simple truth in a daily paper," he commented. "But, as for you, my friend, button your coat well over your heart for it's in for a hard thump tonight."
"So?" said I.
"There won't be so much indifference after you've met Her and—seen a certain picture in the Corridor of Kings," he retorted, with a superior smile.
"Think not?" said I, with another yawn. "What if I've done both years ago?"
He eyed me sharply. "It's foolish to bluff when a show-down is certain," he said.
"So one learns in the army."
"Of course not every hand needs to bluff," he said slowly.
"No—not every hand," I agreed.
He went over to the door. On the threshold he turned.
"I wonder if this is my laugh, or yours, to-night," he said.
"We will laugh together," I answered.
Then he went out.
IV
THE SALUTE OF A COUSIN
I would have been rather a wooden sort of individual had I felt no stir in my heart as, for the first time, I entered the Castle of my ancestors and stood in the ante-chamber waiting to be presented to the Head of my House. I believe I am as phlegmatic as most men, but I would give very little for one who, under like conditions, would not feel a press of emotion. I know it came to me with sharp intensity—and I see no shame in the admission; nor will any one else whose heart is the heart of an honest man. I have no patience with those creatures who deride sentiment. They are either liars or idiots. Religion, itself, is sentimental; and so is every refined instinct of our lives. Destroy the sentimental in man and the brute alone remains.
We waited but a moment and then were ushered into the royal presence. The greeting was entirely informal. Courtney was no stranger to Valeria, and had met the King frequently during the last ten years. Frederick came forward and shook his hand most cordially and welcomed him to Court. It was like the meeting of two friends. During it I had time to observe the King.
He wore the green uniform of a General, with the Jewel of the Order of the Lion around his neck. His sixty odd years sat very lightly and left no mark save in the facial wrinkles and grey hair. He was a true Dalberg in height and general appearance, and with the strong, straight nose that was as distinctive to our family as was the beak to the Bourbons.
I had remained in the background during Courtney's greeting, but, when he turned and presented me, I advanced and bowed. As I straightened, the King extended his hand saying:
"We are glad to———"
Then he caught a full view of my face and stopped, staring. I dropped his hand and stepped back; and, for a space, no one moved. Only, I shot a side glance at Courtney and caught a half smile on his lips. Then Frederick recovered