CHAPTER XX. THE LAST STAND OF A BAD SERVANT
The cuirassiers stationed in the guardroom of the royal palace walkedgently on the tiling, when occasion required them to walk, and when theyentered or left the room, they were particularly careful to avoidthe chink of the spur or the clank of the saber. Although the royalbedchamber was many doors removed, the Captain had issued a warningagainst any unnecessary noise. A loud laugh, or the falling of a sabercarelessly rested, drew upon the unlucky offender the scowling eyes ofthe commander, who reclined in front of the medieval fireplace, inwhich a solitary log burned, and brooded over past and present. The highrevels in the guardroom were no more, the cuirassiers were no longermade up of the young nobles of the kingdom; they were now merely watchdogs.
Twenty years ago the commander had come from Dresden as an instructor inarms, and after the first year had watched over the royal household, inthe service of the late king and the king who lay dying. He had come ofgood family, but others had come off better, and had carried off courthonors, though his post in early days had been envied by many. He wasabove all else a soldier, the embodiment of patience and integrity, andhe scorned to murmur because fortune had passed over his head. As hesucked at his pipe, he recalled the days of Albrecht and his operasingers, the court scandals, and his own constant employment asmessenger in the king's love intrigues.
Albrecht had died a widower and childless, and with him had died theflower of court life. The courtiers and sycophants had flocked to thestandard of the duke, and had remained there, primarily because Leopoldof Osia promised a sedate and exemplary life. Sometimes the Captainshook his head, as if communing with some unpleasant thought. On eachside of him sat a soldier, also smoking and ruminating.
At the mess table a dozen or so whiled away the time at cards. Thewavering lights of the candle and hearth cast warring shadows on thewall and floor, and the gun and saber racks twinkled. If the playersspoke, it was in tones inaudible to the Captain's ears.
"Our bread and butter," said the Captain softly, "are likely to takeunto themselves the proverbial wings and fly away."
No one replied. The Captain was a man who frequently spoke his thoughtsaloud, and required no one to reply to his disjointed utterances.
"A soldier of fortune," he went on, "pins his faith and zeal tostandards which to-day rise and to-morrow fall. Unfortunately, he takesit at flood tide, which immediately begins to ebb."
The men on either side of him nodded wisely.
"The king can no longer speak. That is why the archbishop has dismissedthe cabinet. While he could speak, his Majesty refused to listen to thedownfall of his enemies. Why? Look to heaven; heaven only can answer.How many men of the native troops are quartered in these buildings? Notone--which is bad. Formerly they were in the majority. Extraordinary.His Majesty would have made friends with them, but the archbishop, anestimable man in his robes, practically ostracized them. Bad, very bad.Had we been comrades, there might be a different end.
"Faugh! if one of us sticks his head into the city barracks a breathof ice is our reward. Kronau never attends the receptions. A littleflattery, which costs nothing, and they would have been willing to diefor his Majesty. Now--" He knocked his pipe on the firedog. "Now,they would not lift a finger. A soldier will forgive all things butpremeditated neglect.
"As for me, when the time comes I shall return to Dresden and die of oldage. Maybe, though, I shan't. When his Majesty dies there is like to bea clash. The duchess is a clever woman, but she would make a balky wife;a capillary affection which runs in the family. Red hair in a manis useful; in a woman it is unmanageable." He refilled his pipe andmotioned toward the tongs. The soldier nearest caught up a brand andheld it out. The Captain laid his pipe against it and drew. "It'sa dreary watch I have from ten till daylight, in his Majesty'santechamber, but he will trust no other man at that post." And with thishe fell into silence.
Some time passed. Twice the Captain pulled out his watch and looked atit. Shortly after nine o'clock the beat of hoofs came up the driveway,and the Captain turned his head toward the entrance and waited. A momentlater the door opened and three men stood framed in the doorway. Two ofthem--one in civilian dress--were endeavoring to hold up a third betweenthem. The central figure presented an alarming picture. His cuirass andwhite trousers were splashed with blood, and his head rolled from sideto side, almost insensibly.
"A thousand devils!" exclaimed the Captain at the sight of thisunexpected tableau. He sprang up, toppling over his chair. "What's this?Von Mitter? Blood? Have those damned students--"
"A brush on the lake road," interrupted Sharfenstein, breathlessly."Help him over to a chair, Monsieur Carewe. That's it."
"Have you a knife, Captain?" asked Maurice.
The Captain whipped out his knife, locked it, and gave it to Maurice."Riemer," he called to one of the cuirassiers, who were rising from themess table, "bring out your box of instruments; and you, Scharfenstein,a basin of cold water. Quick!"
Maurice knelt and deftly cut away the Lieutenant's boot. A pool of bloodcollected on the floor.
"God save us!" cried the Captain, "his boot is full of blood." Heturned to Scharfenstein, who was approaching with the basin. "What hashappened, Max?"
Scharfenstein briefly explained.
"And Kopf?"
"Got away, curse him!"
"And the others?" with a lowering brow.
"They all got away," adding an oath under his breath. Max set the basinon the floor.
"Bad, very bad. Why didn't you shoot?"
"He was afraid of hitting Mademoiselle Bachelier," Maurice interposed.
Max threw him a grateful look.
"Humph!" The Captain called his men around him. "Two of you--. But wait.Who's back of Kopf?"
"Our distinguished Colonel," snapped Max, "who was this day relieved ofhis straps. A case of revenge, probably."
"Beauvais! Ah, ah!" The Captain smiled grimly. He had always hatedBeauvais, who had, for no obvious reason, passed him and grasped thecoveted colonelcy, and because, curiously enough, the native troops hadmade an idol of him. "Beauvais? I am not surprised. An adventurer, withneither 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 thename several times. "Austria...." A gloom settled on his face. "Nomatter. 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, andfollow Kopf's woman home. I'll take it upon myself to telegraph thefrontier to allow no one to cross on the pain of being shot. Pass theword to the officers in the stables. Hurry away before the archbishophears of the matter. Away with you, and quietly. And one of you seekthat blockhead of a coachman, who did not know enough to come back hereand inform us. Beauvais, make him a prisoner, you are not to knowwhy. As for Kopf, dead or alive--alive will be less convenient for allconcerned. Off with you!"
The guardroom was at once emptied, and the cuirassiers turned off towardthe stables, where the main body of the troops was stationed.
Riemer, who was both surgeon and soldier, probed the wound in vonMiner's leg and extracted the bullet, which had lodged in the fleshypart of the calf. He applied cold water, lints and bandages. All thewhile von Mitter sat in the chair, his eyes shut and his lips closedtightly.
"There!" said the surgeon, standing up, "that's better. The loss ofblood is the worst part of it." Next he took a few stitches in the cuton the cheek and threw his cloak over the wounded man's knee. "He'll beall right in a day or so, though he'll limp. Carl?"
"O, I'm sound enough," answered von Mitter, opening his eyes. "A littleweak in the knees, that's all. I shouldn't have given in, only Kopf gotaway when we had him fair and fast. We found hi
s horse wandering aboutthe Frohngarten, but no sign of Johann. He's got it, though, square inthe back."
"I'm sure of it," said Maurice, who leaned over the back of thespeaker's chair.
The Captain eyed him inquiringly.
"Pardon me," said Scharfenstein. "Captain, Monsieur Carewe, an Americantourist, 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 thewhole story."
And Scharfenstein dropped into a chair and recounted in picturesquediction the adventure; how they had remained by the royal carriage tillthe nurse, recovering from her faint, had rushed out and told them ofthe abduction; and the long race on the south shore. While he listenedthe Captain smoked thoughtfully; and when the story was done, he roseand wagged his head.
"Call it revenge," he said, "if it strikes you in that light. MonsieurCarewe, what is your opinion?"
"It occurs to me," answered Maurice, rubbing the scratch the lateColonel's sword had left on his chin, "it occurs to me that the manplayed his hand a few days too late."
"Which is to say?"
"Well, I do not call it revenge," Maurice admitted, unwilling to ventureany 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 crownon his head? He comes from Austria, who, to my thinking, is cognizant ofall he does and has done."
The answer was not spoken. The door, leading to the main palace throughthe kitchens, opened, and the Marshal, the princess, and the maid ofhonor came down the steps. The Captain, Max and the surgeon stood atsalute. Maurice, however, drew back into the shadows at the side ofthe grate. The old soldier gazed down at the pale face of the youngLieutenant, 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, andfrom a most reliable source," nodding toward the anxious maid ofhonor. "Colonel," he addressed the Captain, whose eyes started at thisappellation, "Colonel, you will report to me in the morning to assumeyour new duties. You have been a faithful Captain and a good soldier. Iknow your value, your name and your antecedents, which till now was morethan I knew of your late predecessor. Von Mitter will take upon himselfyour duties as Captain of the household troop; and you, Scharfenstein,will hereafter take charge of her Royal Highness's carriage, and you maychoose whom you will as your comrade."
"I have always tried to do my duty," said von Mitter. He felt a smallhand secretly press his.
"And you have always succeeded, Captain," said a voice which madeMaurice's foolish heart leap. "See, I am the first to give you your newrank. How you must suffer!"
"God bless your Royal Highness!" murmured the fellow, at once rackedwith pain and happiness. "But I am not the one you must thank for thisnight's work."
The Marshal peered at the silent figure beyond the fireplace. Mauricewas compelled to stand forth. "Ah!" said the Marshal.
"Yes," went on von Mitter, "but for him no one knows what the end mighthave been. And I, thinking him one of the abducting party coming up fromthe rear, shot at him."
The princess took a step forward, anxiety widening her dark eyes; andthe swift glance added to the fever in the recipient's veins.... Howbeautiful she was, and how far away! He laid his hand on the top of vonMitter's chair.
"Monsieur Carewe," said the Marshal, "seems to have plenty of leisuretime on his hands--fortunately for us. You were not hit?"
"O, no," said Maurice, blushing. He had discerned an undercurrent ofraillery in the Marshal's tones. "The ball came close to my ear, thatwas all. It is strange how that fellow got away. I am positive that Ihit him."
"We shall find him," said the Marshal, with a look at thenewly-appointed Colonel which said: "Your straps hang in the balance."He rubbed his nose. "Well, is your Royal Highness satisfied that thereis no danger?"
"Yes, Marshal; but think, if he should have been killed! Ah, what doesit all mean? What had this man against me, who have always been kind tohim?"
"We shall, with your Highness's permission," said the Marshal, "leaveall questions to the future. Let us return to the archbishop, whois doubtless awaiting the news. Take good care of yourself, Captain.To-morrow, Colonel; good evening to you, Monsieur Carewe;" and the terseold soldier proceeded to the door and held it open for the women.
"Good night, Messieurs," said her Highness. "I shall not forget. Thanksto you, Captain." One more glance, and she was gone. But this glanceblossomed in one heart into a flower of hope.
The Marshal, having closed the door behind the women, returned to thegroup before the fireplace. They watched him interestedly.
"Colonel," he said, "make no effort to seek Beauvais. As for Kopf, thatis different. But Beauvais--"
"To let him go?" exclaimed the Colonel in dismay.
"Aye, to let him go. We do not seek bears with birdshot, and that is allwe have. He will leave the country."
"And go to the duchy!"
"So much the better; when the time comes, our case against him willbe so much the stronger. Mind you, this is not from sentiment. I havenone," glaring around to see if any dared refute this assertion. "It ispolicy, and Monseigneur concurs with me."
"But I have sent men after him!" cried the Colonel, in keendisappointment.
"Send men after them to rescind the order."
"And if they should catch him?"
"Let him go; that is my order. The servant will be sufficient for ourneeds. Monsieur Carewe, I rely on your discretion;" and the Marshalpassed into the kitchens.
The men looked at each other in silence. A moment later the Coloneldashed from the room, off to the stables.
"Well, I'm off," said Maurice. The desire to tell what he knew wasbeginning to master him. It was too late now, he saw that. Besides, theymight take it into their heads to detain him. He put on his hat. "Goodnight; and good luck to your leg, Captain."
"Till to-morrow," said von Mitter, who had taken a fancy to thesmooth-faced young American, who seemed at home in all places.
"I am going away to-morrow," said Maurice, pressing the Lieutenant'shand. "I shall return in a day or so."
He led his horse to the hotel stables, lit a fresh cigar and promenadedthe terrace. "Some day," he mused, "perhaps I'll be able to do somethingfor myself. To-morrow we'll take a look at Fitzgerald's affairs, likethe good fairy we are. If the Colonel is there, so much the worse forone or the other of us." He laughed contentedly. "Beauvais took mywarning and lit out, or his henchman would never have made a botch ofthe abduction. It is my opinion that Madame wanted a hostage, for itis impossible to conceive that the man made the attempt on his ownresponsibility. I shall return to the duchy in a semi-official characteras an envoy extraordinary to look into the whereabouts of one LordFitzgerald. Devil take me, but I did make a mess of it when I slappedhim on the shoulder that night." The princess had not addressed a wordto him. Why?
When the princess and her maid of honor had passed through the kitchensinto the princess's boudoir, the maid suddenly caught her mistress'shand and imprinted a hasty kiss on it, to the latter's surprise andagitation. There was something in that kiss which came nearer to sincereaffection than Mademoiselle Bachelier had ever shown before.
"Camille?"
"God bless your Highness!" whispered the girl, again pressing the coldhand to her lips. What had given rise to this new-born affection sheherself could not say, but a sudden wave of pity rushed into herheart. Perhaps it was because she loved and was loved that caused thisexpansion of heart toward her mistress, who was likely never to love orbeget 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 faceand temples.
The princess took the face between her hands and gazed long andearnestly into it. "Have you discovered a bela
ted pity in your heartfor me? Or is it because you thought him wounded unto death, and he wasnot?"
"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 tworeports. At the second he experienced a terrible burning blow underthe 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 vonMitter 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 painwhich followed almost robbed him of his senses. Behind him the sound ofhoofs came no nearer; he had a chance. He could not look back to see ifhe 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 couldsee it but indistinctly.... To reach the city, to reach Gertrude's, togive the horse a cut and send him adrift, this was his endeavor. Butwould he reach the city--alive? Was he dying? He could not see... Yetagain he shut his jaws and drew on his entire strength. He was keepingin the saddle by will power alone. If the horse faltered he was lost. ToGertrude; she could use them. And after all he loved her. If he died shewould 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 saddleblanket of the cuirassiers stood out conspicuously. At last he had buta corner to turn. He stopped, slid from the saddle and gave the animala cut across the face. The horse reared, then plunged forward at a wildgallop. Johann staggered along the street, fumbling in his pockets forhis keys.
Gertrude of the opera company was usually in the ballet. To-night shehad left the stage after the first dance. She had complained of asevere headache, and as the manager knew her worth he had permittedher withdrawal from the corps. She lived off the Frohngarten, in anapartment on the second floor, over a cheap restaurant. She was bathingher temples in perfumed ammonia water, when she heard footsteps in thecorridor, and later the rasp of a key in the lock. As the door openedshe beheld a spectacle which caused her to scream.
"Hush! Gertrude, I am dying.... Brandy! I must talk to you! Silence!"Johann tottered to a lounge and dropped on his side.
The woman, still trembling with fright and terror, poured into her palmsome of the pungent liquid with which she had been bathing her temples,and held it under his nose. It revived him. And in a few brokensentences he made known to her what had happened.
"Gertrude, I am lost!" He breathed with difficulty. "I have lived likea rascal, and I die like one. But I have always loved you; I have alwaysbeen true to you; I have never beaten nor robbed you." His eyes closed.
"O God," she cried, "what shall I do? Johann, you must not die! Wewill leave the country together. Johann, you do not speak! Johann!"She kissed him, pressed him in her arms, regardless of the stains whichthese frantic fondlings gathered from his breast. "Johann!"
"Rich," he said dreamily; "rich... and to die like a dog!"
She left him and rushed to the sideboard, poured out a tumbler ofbrandy, and returned to his side. She raised his head, but he swallowedwith effort.
"In the lungs," he said. "God! how it burns! Rich; we are rich,Gertrude; a hundred thousand crowns.... And I am dying!... What afailure! Curse them all; they never offered to lend a hand unless it ledtoward hell! Gertrude... I must tell you. Here; here, put your hand inthis pocket; yes. Draw them out... A hundred thousand crowns!"
The woman shuddered. Her hand and what it held were wet with blood.
"Hide them!" And Johann fainted away for the second time. When he cameto his senses, several minutes had passed. Quickly, with what remainingstrength he had, he unfolded his plan.
And her one idea was to save him. She drenched her handkerchief with theammonia, and bade him hold it to his nose, while she fetched a basin ofwater and a sponge. Tenderly she drew back his coat and washed the bloodfrom his throat and lips, and moistened his hair.
"Listen!" he cried suddenly, rising on his elbow. "It is they! Theyhave found me! Quick! to the roof!" He struggled to his feet, with thatstrength which imparts itself to dying men, super-human while it lasts.He threw one arm around her neck. "Help me!"
And thus they gained the hall, mounted the flight to the roof, hegroaning and urging, she sobbing, hysterical, and frenzied. She climbedthe ladder with him, threw back the trap, and helped him on the roof.
"Now leave me!" he said, kissing her hand.
She gave him her lips, and went down to her rooms, and waited andwaited. This agony of suspense lasted a quarter of an hour, when againcame the clatter of hoofs. Would this, too, prove a false alarm? Sheheld her hand to her ear. If he were dying... They had stopped; theywere mounting the stairs; O God, they were beating on the door!
"Open!" cried a voice without; "open in the king's name!"
She gasped, but words would not come. She clenched her hands until thenails sank into the flesh.
"Open, Madame, or down comes the door."
The actress in her came to the rescue. The calm of despair tookpossession of her.
"In a moment, Messieurs," she said. Her voice was without agitation. Sheopened the door and the cuirassiers pushed past her. "In heaven's name,Messieurs, what does this mean?"
"We want Johann Kopf," was the answer, "and we have it from goodauthority that he is here. Do not interfere with us; you are in no wiseconnected with the affair."
"He is not here," she replied. She wondered at herself, her tones wereso even, her mind was so clear.
One of the cuirassiers caught up her gown. "What's this, Madame?" hedemanded, pointing to the dark wet stains; "and this?" to her hands,"and this?" to the spots on the carpet, the basin and the sponge. "Tothe roof, men; he has gone by the roof! Up with you!"
The ballet dancer held forth her hands in supplication; life forsook herlimbs; she sank.
The cuirassiers rushed to the roof.... When they came down it was slowlyand carefully. What they had found on the roof was of no use to them.They laid the inanimate thing on the lounge, and frowned. One of thecuirassiers lifted the ballet dancer and carried her into her bed-room,and laid her on the bed. He had not the heart to revive her. Deathsoftens all angers; even an enemy is no longer such when dead. AndJohann Kopf was dead.