"Our distinguished Colonel," snapped Max, "who was this day relieved of his straps.A case of revenge, probably.""Beauvais! Ah, ah!" The Captain smiled grimly.He had always hated Beauvais, who had, for no obvious reason, passed him and grasped the coveted colonelcy, and because, curiously enough, the native troops had made an idol of him."Beauvais? I am not surprised.An adventurer, with neither kith nor country.""He is Prince Walmoden," said Maurice, "and for some reason not known, the emperor has promised to recall him."This information caused the Captain to step back, and he muttered the name several times."Austria...." A gloom settled on his face."No matter.Prince or no prince, or had he one thousand emperors behind him, no matter.Four of you seek him and arrest him.If he offers resistance, knock him on the head, but arrest him.A traitor is without name, country or respect.His purpose...Never mind.
"Four of you seek for Kopf.Look into Stuler's, in at the opera, and follow Kopf's woman home.I'll take it upon myself to telegraph the frontier to allow no one to cross on the pain of being shot.Pass the word to the officers in the stables.Hurry away before the archbishop hears of the matter.Away with you, and quietly.And one of you seek that blockhead of a coachman, who did not know enough to come back here and inform us.
Beauvais, make him a prisoner, you are not to know why.As for Kopf, dead or alive--alive will be less convenient for all concerned.Off with you!"The guardroom was at once emptied, and the cuirassiers turned off toward the stables, where the main body of the troops was stationed.
Riemer, who was both surgeon and soldier, probed the wound in von Miner's leg and extracted the bullet, which had lodged in the fleshy part of the calf.He applied cold water, lints and bandages.All the while von Mitter sat in the chair, his eyes shut and his lips closed tightly.
"There!" said the surgeon, standing up, "that's better.The loss of blood is the worst part of it." Next he took a few stitches in the cut on the cheek and threw his cloak over the wounded man's knee."He'll be all right in a day or so, though he'll limp.Carl?""O, I'm sound enough," answered von Mitter, opening his eyes."Alittle weak in the knees, that's all.I shouldn't have given in, only Kopf got away when we had him fair and fast.We found his horse wandering about the Frohngarten, but no sign of Johann.
He's got it, though, square in the back.""I'm sure of it," said Maurice, who leaned over the back of the speaker's chair.
The Captain eyed him inquiringly.
"Pardon me," said Scharfenstein."Captain, Monsieur Carewe, an American tourist, formerly of the United States cavalry.And a pretty shot, too, by the book! It would have gone badly with us but for him.""My thanks," said the Captain, with a jerky nod."Max, come, give me the whole story."And Scharfenstein dropped into a chair and recounted in picturesque diction the adventure; how they had remained by the royal carriage till the nurse, recovering from her faint, had rushed out and told them of the abduction; and the long race on the south shore.While he listened the Captain smoked thoughtfully; and when the story was done, he rose and wagged his head.
"Call it revenge," he said, "if it strikes you in that light.
Monsieur Carewe, what is your opinion?"
"It occurs to me," answered Maurice, rubbing the scratch the late Colonel's sword had left on his chin, "it occurs to me that the man played his hand a few days too late.""Which is to say?"
"Well, I do not call it revenge," Maurice admitted, unwilling to venture any theory.
"No more do I;" and the Captain began drumming on the mantel.
"What say, Max; how would the illustrious Colonel look with the shadow of a crown on his head? He comes from Austria, who, to my thinking, is cognizant of all he does and has done."The answer was not spoken.The door, leading to the main palace through the kitchens, opened, and the Marshal, the princess, and the maid of honor came down the steps.The Captain, Max and the surgeon stood at salute.Maurice, however, drew back into the shadows at the side of the grate.The old soldier gazed down at the pale face of the young Lieutenant, and smiled kindly.
"Even the best of soldiers make mistakes," he said; "even the best.No," as von Mitter made an attempt to speak."I've heard all about it, and from a most reliable source," nodding toward the anxious maid of honor."Colonel," he addressed the Captain, whose eyes started at this appellation, "Colonel, you will report to me in the morning to assume your new duties.You have been a faithful Captain and a good soldier.I know your value, your name and your antecedents, which till now was more than Iknew of your late predecessor.Von Mitter will take upon himself your duties as Captain of the household troop; and you, Scharfenstein, will hereafter take charge of her Royal Highness's carriage, and you may choose whom you will as your comrade.""I have always tried to do my duty," said von Mitter.He felt a small hand secretly press his.
"And you have always succeeded, Captain," said a voice which made Maurice's foolish heart leap."See, I am the first to give you your new rank.How you must suffer!""God bless your Royal Highness!" murmured the fellow, at once racked with pain and happiness."But I am not the one you must thank for this night's work."The Marshal peered at the silent figure beyond the fireplace.
Maurice was compelled to stand forth."Ah!" said the Marshal.
"Yes," went on von Mitter, "but for him no one knows what the end might have been.And I, thinking him one of the abducting party coming up from the rear, shot at him."The princess took a step forward, anxiety widening her dark eyes;and the swift glance added to the fever in the recipient's veins....How beautiful she was, and how far away! He laid his hand on the top of von Mitter's chair.
