A Dash for a Throne

INSTEAD OF MINNA, THE FACE OF CLARA WEYLIN MET MINE.

For the moment I was like a man bereft of his senses.

AFTER THE ABDUCTION

"This is my revenge, Herr Fischer."

The words were spoken in an angry, taunting voice, quite loud enough for many people round us to hear, and they looked at us in the broadest astonishment.

They recalled my scattered wits.

"Captain von Krugen, what is the meaning of this?" I demanded in a quick, stern tone of the man who was staring in abject helpless bewilderment at the woman who had thus tricked us so cleverly.

"I am absolutely at a loss——" he began; but I cut him short.

"You have betrayed your trust, sir, and God alone knows what the consequences will be."

Meanwhile the cries for the Queen Minna were growing in volume and echoing all around us, and I saw the Baron Heckscher look across at me. The men about the throne had unmasked. I thought rapidly. It was no use wasting time in reproaching or abusing the woman who had fooled us. We were in a mess which might ruin not only my scheme, but the whole of us. While the people were still shouting for the Queen, I hurried back to where Praga was standing, and in a few words told him what had occurred.

"She is the devil. I feared something. I'll——"

"Don't waste time. We have one strong card yet, and must keep possession of it. You are still true to me?" I asked.

"As true as death, I'll show——"

"Then you must do this. Return at once to Friessen with all possible speed—you and Captain von Krugen. Take the duke away anywhere, and lodge him in a place of safety. If neither of you can think of a better place, carry him to Gramberg; but one of you will probably know of some place where he can be kept as a hostage. If I cannot hold him prisoner our last hope is gone."

"She will never say——"

"I trust no woman again in a thing of this sort. Put him where she cannot tell any one where he is. You will have to ride all the way, I expect. No matter. Take the best horses in the stables here and ride them to a standstill, if necessary. You must go at a hand-gallop the whole way: or perhaps you can get a special train to Spenitz. Anything, but for God's sake go—and at once. You can deal with the woman afterward."

I called up von Krugen, and gave him the hurried orders.

"Remember at any cost to keep him a prisoner, and let me know where he is."

These were my last words to the two, and spoken with almost fierce earnestness. As I turned from them I beckoned Steinitz to me.

"I am going to speak to that woman in a dark domino. When I leave her watch her as you would watch the devil, and let me know where she goes and to whom she speaks."

I went back to Clara Weylin.

"Will you give me an interview presently?" I asked, very quietly, adding significantly, "It will be safer."

"I am not afraid of you," she replied scornfully.

"It will be safer," I repeated.

"I don't wish to speak to you."

"It will be safer," I said for the third time; and then I crossed the room to where the men clustered about the throne were waiting for me.

"Where is the Countess Minna?" asked Baron Heckscher; and he could not restrain the evidence of his feeling of triumph.

"I regret that the Countess Minna von Gramberg is unable to be present. Baron Heckscher has known for some hours that this would be the case." I said this loudly enough for those about us to hear, and a glance into the man's face told me that he knew of my sudden disappointment, and was enjoying his triumph supremely. I kept out of my voice and manner all signs of alarm or anger, and added quietly to the baron, "You had better announce her indisposition, and stop this clamor."

On seeing me cross to the throne those who were leading the chorus took up the cry for Minna with redoubled energy.

"I will not answer for the effect of the disappointment," he said.

"Yet you will have to," said I, with a look he could not fail to understand.

"I don't understand you," he returned hotly.

"I will not fail to make my meaning quite plain," I retorted. "And you may not find the course so clear as you think."

"What message shall I have announced?"

"That the Countess Minna von Gramberg accepts the high mission to which she is called, but that to-night she is too unwell to be present," I answered; "and let the message be given at once."

"We can't do that," he replied, seeing my object—to bind him to this public acceptance of the throne by Minna. "She must be here in person to make that possible."

"If that is not done and at once," I cried, going close to him and speaking the words between my teeth, "I myself will proclaim the fact that the man who was here a minute since was not the King, but your dummy, and that the whole thing is a farce got up by you and these gentlemen. You will then have to bring back the King himself, and you can judge as well as I how he will view the acts that have been done here to-night, and reward the actors."

"You dare not play the traitor in that way!"

"Dare not? I dare do more than that," and I clipped my words short as I whispered them into his ear. "I dare stand up now and tell the whole story of your double treachery, for I know it all: and, by God! if you thwart me any farther I'll make my words good to the last letter."

I meant every syllable of the threat, and I made this perfectly plain in my manner. Whether the man was actually afraid for himself I know not; but he saw clearly enough that any such sensational statement made by me at that juncture would inevitably result in the complete overthrow of the scheme for which he had worked so hard.

"I don't affect to understand your meaning," he said; "but one way is as good as another to put an end to a scene that must be ended somehow."

"Then give the instructions, and let the people see that they come from you," and I drew back.

He called the man who had been acting as herald, and spoke to him in an undertone; and the latter was turning to the people when I interposed.

"As this is the first utterance from the Queen, you had better have the trumpeters call for silence, and let the herald end the declaration with the formal prayer, God save the Queen."

This was done, though the men round me frowned in angry dissent; and as soon as the announcement had been made the signal was given, the band struck up for the dancing to recommence, and the throng of people began to melt away from the dais on which we had all been collected.

So far, I felt I had done the best I could to repair the disconcerting smash-up of my plans, and already I had in my thoughts a rough idea of the line I would take later with the baron and his friends of the Ostenburg interest. They had outplayed me at my own game, and had dealt me a shrewd and clever stroke, which must have completely defeated me but for the fact that I had kidnapped their man, the Duke Marx. For the moment everything must yield to the necessity of keeping him secure, and thus for some hours at least I dared not say a word to let them know what I had done with him.

I calculated that von Krugen and Praga would take about five hours to get to the place where he was concealed, and they would need at least further four or five hours to get him to some other spot. That at the least. I had given them a difficult piece of work, but they were both resolute and indeed desperate men, and I had ample confidence that, given sufficient time, they would overcome the difficulty. It was now past midnight, and I reckoned, therefore, that I must hold my tongue about the duke until the following morning.

In the mean time I had the problem of Minna's whereabouts to solve. I must also ascertain whether the woman had told anything of the part which she and Praga had played together in getting hold of the duke.

I looked round the room in search of her, and, not seeing either her or Steinitz, I was moving off the dais to make a tour of the rooms to find her, when the two men Kummell and Beilager stopped me.

"You promised an explanation of your conduct," said the former in a curt, angry tone. "Be so good as to give it."

"You will have an ample explanation later, gentlemen. Matters of greater moment are pressing me now."

"Nothing could be of greater moment than the reason for the Countess Minna's non-appearance here to-night; for that statement about her indisposition was, of course, untrue."

"It was untrue, as you say. But until the whole matter can be told it is a waste of valuable time to discuss a small part of it," I answered coolly, although the insult in his tone and words was more than galling.

"I differ from you, and demand an explanation at once—or I shall draw my own conclusions."

"That is at your discretion. You have taken a course throughout this which makes you largely responsible for the result."

"Do you insinuate that we are in any way responsible for spiriting away the countess?" he asked hotly.

"I must decline to discuss this with you in your present frame of mind and temper. Your manner to me is an insinuation and an insult."

"You will have to discuss it all the same, or I will publicly insult you here, in the presence of the whole room."

The hot-headed fool was likely to spoil everything.

"That must also be as your indiscretion prompts you," I returned sharply. "If you think you will serve the interests of my family by wrangling here, and causing me to run you through the body afterward, take your own course. But you will do far better to keep a sharp watch on the man who has apparently been duping you—I mean Baron Heckscher—and try to thwart the deep scheme he has laid."

"I believe you to be a traitor; to have worked openly for the Countess Minna, and secretly to have intrigued against her; and that you have kept her out of the way purposely in the interests of the Ostenburg family. You are a spy; nothing better."

"And you are a foolish little man, whose sight is as short as your temper, and whose wits are as dull as your silly suspicions are keen. You are the dupe of the Baron Heckscher."

"You shall answer to me for this—or at least you should, if you were worthy of consideration."

He was so angry and excited that he could scarcely keep from striking, and this last insinuation of his had leapt out in his exasperation.

I had been expecting something of the kind, and it prepared me for the line which the rest would take later; but at that moment I caught sight of Steinitz, moving among the crowd in the distance, and I put an end to this altercation promptly.

"When you know the facts, sir, you will be far more ready to apologize to me than to challenge me. But if you should then wish this matter to go forward, you will not find me in the least unwilling."

I bowed ceremoniously and, putting on my mask again, hurried away after Steinitz.

It was quite clear now that these men had got hold of some tale from the two lawyers about me, and the baron was quite shrewd enough, in order to separate from me the only two men among the leaders who were really loyal to Minna, to turn it to good account by proclaiming me a spy in the Ostenburg interest.

It was an exceedingly plausible story to account for my having kept Minna out of the way. In the mean time my anxiety on her account was growing very keen, and had I not known that happily von Nauheim was laid by the heels and, as I sincerely hoped, badly hurt, I should have been desperate enough. As it was, however, I held a hostage for her safety, and I was eagerly impatient for the moment to come when I could show the baron the real strength of my position.

Steinitz pointed out to me the actress, who had thrown off her domino, and was standing in the middle of a group of men and women laughing and talking merrily. I shouldered my way among the promenading dancers to a spot near her, and then stood forward that she might see me. As soon as she caught sight of me she threw a glance of angry defiance in my direction, and, turning her back, recommenced her gay chatter with her companions. But I was in no mood to let her trifle with me nor to allow her to think she could treat me as she pleased. I went up and requested an immediate interview.

"Can't you see that I am engaged? My dance card is full," she replied, with supercilious nonchalance.

"The business that I have with you cannot wait," I said firmly. "And if you cannot give me a private interview, I shall be compelled to discuss it here and now in public."

She looked at me to see if I were in earnest, and apparently came to the conclusion that I was, for with an angry toss of the head she said:

"I can spare you three minutes until my next dance."

I led her to one of the many luxurious cosy corners of the place.

"You have taken a very bitter revenge, and a very cowardly one, for no real offence," I said. "Is your anger satisfied with the one stroke, or am I to look for another?"

"I warned you that you had made an enemy of me."

"And you have made the warning good. Have you done anything else? You know I refer to your work to-day at Friessen."

"If I can harm you I will."

"And Praga?"

"I hate you!" she cried, with intense bitterness.

"You have given ample proof of that. Have you betrayed him in regard to that affair of to-day?"

"I shall not tell you. Who are you that you should cross-question me in this manner? I am no servant of yours."

"Have you told the people for whom you have to-night tricked me that you have decoyed the Duke Marx into the hands of those who, if need be, will take his life?"

I struck home with this thrust; and she glanced about her in manifest alarm.

"Don't speak like that," she cried in a hurried whisper. "There is no fear of anything of that kind."

"You mistake," I answered shortly and sternly. "If anything happens to the girl whom you have betrayed to-night, the man whom you lured away will pay for it with his life; and I myself will explain every detail of your share in the matter."

It was a little cowardly to play on her fears in this way; but it was not my own safety—it was Minna's—I was fighting for.

The woman's agitation increased with each word.

"It must not be. It shall not be. You dare not," she cried.

"There is no dare not in schemes like these," I answered grimly.

"But I was promised there should be no violence."

"You had not then played us false and worn that domino."

"I will go at once and tell all I know," she exclaimed excitedly.

Good. She had not told.

"It is too late. You were the decoy, but the duke is now in the hands of my men, and no power on earth can save him if I but issue the order. Do you think I do my work so poorly as to leave him where you, or those whom you send, could find him?"

She sat, her fingers interlocked and her eyes staring in a fixed, set gaze of abject fright, while her breath came and went with quick catches of agitation.

"You have played the subtle part of double treachery, and you will find it deadly dangerous," I went on sternly.

It was necessary to frighten her thoroughly for the object I had, and I let a couple of minutes pass in silence, while this conviction of her danger forced itself home. Then I opened the door of relief.

"It rests with you to save his life, and your own, and Praga's," I said.

She was too panic-stricken to act, and the hope in her face at my words made me rejoice.

"Save the Countess Minna von Gramberg. Help me to find her."

The light died out as suddenly as it had come.

"I cannot. I know nothing of her whereabouts."

"Tell me all you know about this trick by which you personated her."

At that moment a man dressed as a Venetian gondolier approached to claim her for a dance.

"I must know everything at once," I whispered hurriedly. "You must refuse him."

It was a test of my power. If she went off to dance I should accept it as a sign of defeat.

"I must not refuse. I dare not," she said nervously.

"You understand what it means," I replied in the same undertone.

The man came up, and the nervous movements of my companion's fingers showed me something of her agitation.

"This is our dance, I think," he murmured, bowing.

"Yes, I—yes, it is," and she half rose from her seat, but then sank back again. "But I am not quite well enough to dance. I am sitting here for the cooler air. Please excuse me."

"Permit me to sit it out with you then," he said, and he turned toward me as if expecting me to give way.

I did not budge, of course, but stared out in front of me as if I had not seen his look.

"I am sorry, but—a friend has—has brought me some important—news, and it has distressed me—and I wish to continue the conversation."

It was as clumsy an excuse as any child in her teens could have mumbled out, and given in a manner altogether unlike her own. But fortunately the man took umbrage at the obvious slight, and with a stiff bow went off.

I had won again.

"Now you can tell me all you know."

"Wait a moment. Let me be quiet, or I shall faint."

She was now trembling violently, and I sat waiting until she should have recovered her self-composure sufficiently to tell me the news I was burning to learn.

THE MAID'S STORY

"I have really very little to tell you," said the actress after a long silence, in which she had been making strenuous efforts to recover self-possession. "I know very little. I have known, of course, for a long time that there was to be special interest attaching to the proceedings here to-night, and for Signor Praga's sake I had learned all that I could."

"I wish to know the particular facts in connection with your taking the place of the countess, that's all," for the time was slipping by and my anxiety on Minna's account was growing to fever heat.

"I was merely told that I had to play the part of another woman, and that I was to be paid for doing so. More than that, I was given to understand that in the event of the matter being carried through successfully I should gain the favor of some of those high in authority."

"Do you mean you were doing this for money only?"

"No, but because I believed there was some other great advantage to be gained."

"Did you tell Praga?"

"No. Why should I tell him everything? I did not know for certain until my return to-night what was really intended. I might have drawn back then if I could—if I had not also known that I should be dealing a blow at you and revenging myself."

"How did you get possession of the countess's domino, and when did you take her place by the side of the man guarding her?"

"I did not get her domino. The one I wore was ready for me when I arrived here to-night. Some one had described exactly the dress the Countess Minna was to wear, and everything was ready for me when I arrived."

"Did you know it was the Countess Minna you were to personate?"

"Yes. I was not told, but I guessed; and when they told me that you would come up to me and lead me forward to the throne, I knew of course all that was meant. I did not do all I was told to do, however. I was to have kept my mask on and to have walked across the room with you to the dais, and then have thrown it off, to shame and confuse you before every one."

"And why didn't you?"

"I preferred to enjoy my revenge privately. And I had it when I saw your look of dismay on catching sight of my face."

"And how was the change effected?"

"Simply and easily enough. Some of those in the secret began to crowd and crush round the Countess Minna; others resented this, a confusion was caused, and in the moment I slipped into her place, while some one made up to look like the man with her went up and led her, as he said, to a place of refuge from the pressure of the crowd."

"Where did they take her?" I asked anxiously.

"I don't know. I know no more than yourself what happened afterward. I had not been in my place more than a few minutes before you came up to me. You know the rest."

"Who told you all our plans and made this thing possible?"

For it was clear that I had been betrayed by some one in our closest confidence—some one who knew even of the secret mark on Minna's domino. It was no mere case of her having been seen and recognized while at the ball; for the dress had obviously been ready before Minna herself had arrived.

"I was not told," replied my companion.

Whoever it was, the betrayal had been complete. I had been allowed to think that my ruse of substituting the waiting-maid Marie for her mistress had been successful; and just when I had thought everything safe I had the mine sprung right under my feet. They had reckoned I should be all unconscious of such a stroke, and unfortunately they had reckoned correctly.

But who was the traitor? This was no plan that could be laid in an hour. It showed that from the first there had been some leakage by which my whole scheme was carried over to my enemies; and it appeared to me that it must lie between two people, the Baroness Gratz and the waiting-maid Marie.

"Who gave you your instructions?" I asked sharply.

"I will not tell you," was the equally sharp reply, and though pressed she held to her refusal.

"Have you seen the Count von Nauheim here to-night?"

"No, he is not here."

"How do you know?"

"I overheard surprise expressed at his absence."

"Can you give any clew as to where I shall find the Countess Minna?"

"No, none whatever. I know no more than you yourself."

It was useless to ask any more questions. It was clear that she had been used as a tool for this particular task, and had been trusted no further. I must seek my information elsewhere; from either von Nauheim, if I could find him, or from Baron Heckscher.

But I was altogether unwilling to see the latter until sufficient time had passed for von Krugen and Praga to have secured the person of the Duke Marx.

It was a sheer impossibility, however, for me to remain inactive while Minna was in the hands of her enemies, and I resolved to try to trace von Nauheim. From what the actress told me, it appeared probable either that his accident in the carriage with me had hurt him sufficiently to prevent his coming to the ball, or else that he had found it difficult to escape from the hands of the men whom he had planned should hold me. In either event he would be unable to get to Minna, and so long as that was the case her danger was proportionately less.

But I must find him if possible; for the suspense of the present uncertainty was maddening.

I crossed to Steinitz, and telling him to follow me I threaded my way through the laughing, gossiping, excited throng and made my way to the nearest exit.

In the ante-room through which I had to pass a group of men were standing deep in conversation. Among them were several of the leaders of the movement, and I recognized, to my annoyance, Kummell and Beilager among them.

Kummell was, as usual, gesticulating rather wildly, and on catching sight of me he stepped forward and barred my progress.

"Here is the traitor, gentlemen," he cried angrily. "We have caught him in the very act of trying to sneak away. You won't pass here, my fine fellow, I can tell you."

It was the very climax of irony that this man, who should have been so valuable an ally, should in this way be perpetually crossing and thwarting me. In my angry mood at the moment I could have found it in me to strike him.

"That has yet to be proved," I answered as quietly as my anger would permit.

An audible sneer ran round the group.

"I will prove it, for I will stop you," and he planted himself right in front of me, put his arms akimbo, and stared me insolently in the face.

"Good!" exclaimed one or two of the others.

I took off my mask before I answered. His insulting, swaggering manner was almost more than I could brook, although I knew the other men were deliberately endeavoring to provoke a fight, and, further, that it would be the height of folly for two men who were in reality heart and soul together in pursuit of the same object to go out and try to kill each other.

"You can scarcely be in earnest, Herr Kummell," I said, after a pause. "I have already told you once to-night that later on I shall be ready to hold myself at your disposal, should you wish it. We are still in the precincts of the palace, and the business of the night is one on which you and I are in heart agreed. There are those here whom nothing would please better than to see us two crossing swords; and it is they who are the traitors"—I looked round at the rest—"and if any one of them is minded to make this quarrel his own he will not find me backward. But with you and Herr Beilager I will not fight at present."

"I shall not allow you to pass for all your big words," said the little hot-headed fool in the same tone.

"The work I have is too urgent to be delayed now. Stand aside, if you please," I answered sternly.

"You shall not pass here."

"'Fore God, sir, take care, or you will drive me to do that which I may regret." I thundered the words out, and putting on as stern and fierce a look as I could I moved on. He stood his ground a moment, but then winced and retreated a step.

At this a taunting, jeering laugh came from one of the rest.

I wheeled round instantly upon the group, and, not knowing which of the men it was, I picked out the biggest of them and, walking up to him till my face was close to his, I stared him dead in the eyes for some seconds.

"Did you do me the honor to speak, sir?"

"No, I did not," he answered.

I turned to the rest.

"One of you gentlemen either spoke or sneered. Which of you was it? I am rather anxious to show him that it is not altogether safe to play in this way with me." I stared at each of them in turn, but none said a word.

"To-morrow, Herr Kummell," I said then to the little man, whose fierceness had very much abated, "you may look for the explanation I have promised you; and as soon as the business on which I am urgently engaged is finished I shall be at your service," and with that I swung forward out of the place, nor was there any longer the least attempt made to interfere with me.

The incident ruffled my temper considerably, and I went hurriedly out into the night and set off at a sharp pace for the Gramberg house, when Steinitz came up and whispered a word or two about the need for caution.

"Won't you drive home?" he asked. "To walk seems like inviting an attack."

"No, I'll walk. The air will do me good. No one will be expecting me to do so; and I will be on my guard."

In truth I did not know what my opponents' next move against me might be. It was not at all improbable that, as they had now the knowledge which would enable them to accuse me of imposture, they would deem it needless to run any risks by attacking me with violence. They could probably get at me by some kind of legal process.

I did not care in the least. I had no thought except the overpowering desire and resolve to find Minna and rescue her. I was indifferent to all else.

It was therefore with intense pleasure that I learned when I reached the house that there was important news. The maid, Marie, had arrived there about half an hour previously, and was waiting in feverish anxiety to tell me her story. I was no less anxious to hear it.

"Tell me as plainly and as shortly as you can," I said, "everything that has passed since you left the palace with the baroness up to this moment."

"The first thing I noticed was that there was a stranger on the box as coachman, and that there were also two strangers on the board behind. We drove away slowly through the lines of people and until we had gone about half a mile. Then the carriage turned away to the right, and began to thread a number of streets, the pace gradually increasing until the outskirts of the town were reached. There the carriage stopped with a jerk, and a stranger sprang in and took his seat opposite to us.

"'Do not be alarmed, ladies,' he said, 'but the Prince desires you should call first at the house of Baron Heckscher to complete certain details.' I made no opposition, because you had told me not to speak a word if I could avoid doing so; and thus we drove on for about half an hour at a rapid pace."

"Do you know the road?" I asked.

"Yes, it was the Linden road. Then the carriage turned in through some side gates," continued the girl, "and we drew up at the door of a large house."

"'You will come in,' said the man, alighting and leading the way. I noticed a large number of men about, who took careful heed of us, as we were led into a room at the far end of a long corridor. There we were left for a few minutes alone, when the stranger came back to us.

"'I have to tell you now,' he said to the baroness, 'that it will be necessary for you to remain here some time. Reasons of State have made it desirable that you should be separated from those whom you have hitherto looked on as your friends; but, of course, no harm will come to you, and the detention will only be for a few hours. You will not need an attendant, baroness, as this young woman'—waving his hand toward me—'can transfer to you the services she is accustomed to render to her mistress, the Countess Minna.'

"'What do you mean, sir?' I asked, for I could not keep quiet.

"'That it is perfectly well known to me that you are not the Countess Minna von Gramberg, but merely her waiting-maid. You will therefore be good enough to attend to the baroness,' and with that he went out of the room."

"And the baroness?" I asked eagerly.

"I was so overcome at learning that the scheme had got known to them, and that, therefore, the danger to my dear young mistress was as great as ever, perhaps greater, that I did not know what to say, or think, or do. The baroness seemed to think I had been guilty of treachery, but, your Highness, I would die sooner than be the means of any harm coming to my mistress," cried the girl, with what appeared to me to be the energy of truth, and with the tears in her eyes.

"'Have you told any one of this change?' the baroness asked me, and, despite my utter protests, I could not make her believe that I had not. I sat there utterly miserable, only thinking and fearing what might happen to my mistress.

"The baroness would not speak to me, and hour after hour passed in this awful suspense. They brought us food, but I could not touch it, though the baroness ate some, and told me to do the same. But I could not. The dreadful thought of my mistress' danger seemed to shut out everything else, even anger at these suspicions of treachery."

"Well, how did you get away?" I asked as she paused. "Stay, will you know the house again? And could you guide me to it?"

"Yes, your Highness," was the ready answer.

I sent for Steinitz and told him to have a carriage got ready for me at once.

"After we had been thus for some hours," the girl resumed when I turned to her again, "I thought I heard the sound of a horse galloping up to the house, and about an hour later the same man came to our room.

"'You can get ready to go. We have done with you,' he said bluntly to me. 'I regret it is impossible to release you yet, baroness; but your niece will certainly have need of you, and you will probably wish to be with her again.'

"'Can I not go to my mistress?' I asked, in distress at the thought of her being in this man's power.

"'No, you can return to the Prince von Gramberg, and tell him the next time he plans a coup to do it more shrewdly.'

"I wrung my hands in despair and prayed and begged of him to let me go to the countess; but he scowled and frowned me down and ordered me to be silent. Then he led me away alone to where a carriage was waiting for me, and after I had been driven back to the city they set me down, and I hurried here as fast as I could."

I had already resolved to go to the place, although it was almost certain I should not find Minna there.

"Get ready to go with me. You will take your place by the coachman and direct him where to drive;" and after a rapid change of dress I armed myself and set out for the house where the girl had been detained, bidding the man drive as fast as his horses could travel.

COVERING MY DEFEAT

As I rode through the quickly brightening dawn I endeavored to piece together some plan of action for this visit to the house; but it was obvious I should have to be guided largely by what might occur. It was exceedingly improbable that I should find Minna there. It seemed in the highest degree improbable that they would have let the girl Marie out in such a way if they had intended to take Minna to the same house; for they would have known I should go there at once. Certainly they did not intend me to know Minna's whereabouts.

There were other considerations, moreover. Marie herself might still be playing me false, or these men might be using her as a decoy to lure me into a trap. I was inclined to the latter view. I believed the girl to be true to her mistress, and I read the detention of the Baroness Gratz, judged by what the girl had said of her manner, to indicate that the treachery was hers, and not the girl's. In any event I must be on my guard.

I felt that until I could make the Baron Heckscher understand that any harm to either Minna or myself would be the signal for the death of the Duke Marx there might be danger for us both.

For Minna's sake—seeing that her helplessness would be vastly increased were anything to happen to me—I must run no unnecessary personal risks. I would use the occasion only therefore to endeavor to ascertain where Minna had been carried. After a few hours, as soon, that was, as I could safely communicate with Baron Heckscher, the axis of the danger would be shifted.

Presently the carriage stopped, and I was told that we were near the house. Calculating that if any mischief were meant a secret approach would be as dangerous as an open one, I ordered the coachman to drive straight up to the door, and I jumped out, and myself thundered at the heavy knocker, and pealed away loudly at the bell.

The noise awoke the echoes of the still, heavy, morning air, but for a long time received no attention from within the house. I grew impatient, and walked round it, examining the windows, which for the most part were closely shuttered.

I went back to the door, and knocked and rang again; and then a window at the top of the house was opened, and an old man put out his head and asked what was the matter.

"Come down to the door at once," I replied peremptorily.

"What for?"

"Come down," I cried angrily. "At once. I order you in the name of the Queen—or I shall have the door broken in."

The head was withdrawn and I thought I could hear the sounds of a muffled conference.

"Who are you and what do you want?" said the old fellow, putting out his head again.

"I order you in the name of the Queen to do as I have said," I answered, rather liking the sound of the formula. It served my purpose, for the man drew in his head muttering he would be down in a minute.

"Are you sure this is the house?" I asked the girl Marie.

"Positive. I will lead you straight to the room," she returned.

I waited impatiently until I heard some one fumbling with the fastenings of the door, and after a minute it was opened by the old man, partially dressed and yawning heavily.

"I have come for the Baroness Gratz and her companion," I said sharply as I stepped into the hall. "Let them be roused at once."

"There's no baroness here," said the man.

"Who is in the house, then?" I asked.

The old fellow looked at me shrewdly.

"There are more than enough to guard it; but there are no ladies," he answered.

"That I shall see for myself," said I, and I called Marie and told her to show me the way to the room where she and the baroness had been kept.

The old man followed, protesting at every step energetically.

"This is the room, your Highness," said the girl, laying her hand on the door.

I opened it and looked in. It was empty and dark.

"How long have you been in the house?" I asked the old man, on whom the mention of the term "highness" had produced a marked effect.

"I live here, my lord," he answered in a tone of much greater respect.

"Were you here this afternoon and evening?" and I took out a couple of gold pieces so that he could see them.

"No, your Highness," he said, with a bow—the mere sight of them had given me a step in the peerage in his opinion. "I was away in the country this morning and only returned late."

"Were there two ladies here when you returned?"

"Not that I know of, sire."

"Was your master here?"

"No, sire. He is away."

"Who is your master?"

He looked astonished.

"Herr Schemmell, your Grace."

"And were the preparations all complete at Herr Schemmell's country-seat when you left—the preparations for the expected guests, I mean?"

The shot told; for he started and looked up and I thought he was going to reply, when a stolid, sullen look settled on his face and he was silent.

I jingled the two gold pieces and added a third, and then on my side I was considerably startled, for a deep voice said from behind me:

"The bribery of a servant is not a very princely employment."

"Who are you, sir?" I cried, turning quickly on the newcomer.

"Some one to whom you will be good enough to address any further questions, if you please. Ludwig, go away." The old man shambled off down the long corridor. "And now, sir, you will be well advised to leave the house—while the way is open. You may find it difficult later."

"That may be as it will, but I am not going until I have effected my purpose and satisfied myself that those whom I seek are not here." I spoke resolutely.

"You are a trespasser, and will be good enough to leave when I tell you."

"This is the house to which those whom I seek were kidnapped and brought, and I will not leave until I have searched it."

"One of the persons kidnapped is by your side now," said he, pointing to the girl; "but you will not be allowed to search the house. If you attempt it, you will be detained and given an excellent opportunity of searching one of the cellars, but no more."

"You dare not interfere with me. I am no woman!" said I hotly.

"You will be well advised to moderate your language. You are one man, we are many. You have forced yourself into this house, and, if we deal harshly with you, you will have only yourself to blame. Personally, I have no wish to do you any hurt. You have served our turn, and can do no further harm."

I bit my lip in vexation.

"Is the Baroness Gratz in the house, or the Countess Minna von Gramberg?" I asked after a pause of embarrassment.

"I decline to answer your questions. And again I warn you to leave, or I will not be responsible for the consequences."

"I will search the house!" I exclaimed, and, without further words, I plunged along the corridor, trying to open the doors of the rooms which I passed.

They were all locked, and when I turned to the staircase it was only to find that a couple of men armed with revolvers had been posted there to prevent my ascending.

"Stand aside and let me pass!" I cried firmly.

"You will fire, if necessary," commanded the man who had followed me, and he took up a place by them. Then to me he added: "My patience is exhausted now, and I will give you three minutes only to leave the house. At the end of that time the doors will be closed, and I shall keep you here a prisoner. You are but one against a dozen, and can do nothing. It will be sheer madness to attempt to resist us."

I saw this well enough; but the thought of the ignominious failure to get even information galled and maddened me. But it would have been greater madness to resist.

"Will you give me a moment in private?" I asked the man.

He came aside with me readily.

"Can you give me any assurance that my cousin, the Countess Minna, is safe?"

"I have no instructions to give you any information whatever, but to the best of my knowledge she is perfectly safe."

"Where is the Count von Nauheim?"

"I decline to tell you, sir," he answered curtly, and I could get no more from him.

Thus, baffled and exasperated, I left the house.

I had gained little or nothing definite by my venture, and yet, despite my disappointment, I was in a sense relieved of some of my anxiety in regard to Minna's safety. Whether she was in the house or not I could not say, and, until I had seen Baron Heckscher, I had not ventured to take any too desperate steps to ascertain; but as I drove back to the house I determined on a much bolder measure to take presently.

I stopped the carriage a little way from the house, and sent back the coachman to wait and watch if the baroness or Minna left the place, and told the man to remain until Steinitz should relieve him. I drove the carriage home, and then despatched Steinitz with instructions to keep a strict watch on any movements from the house, and particularly to follow Minna should she leave the house.

As I knew that I must have a trying day before me, I lay down for an hour or two until the time for my visit to Baron Heckscher.

I arrived at his house just as he was in the act of starting for a meeting of the Council of State, which had been hurriedly summoned.

"I cannot stay to speak to you now, sir. I have to go out," he said shortly.

"On the contrary, you cannot go out until you have spoken to me," I replied, copying his manner.

"This is no time for play-acting," he said significantly. "There are serious matters of State to be settled, caused by your trickery or treachery."

"You are an authority on the latter, at any rate. But I have not come to bandy words. I wish to know where the Countess Minna von Gramberg has been carried, and to demand her instant and unconditional release."

"In what character do you demand that information?" he said, with a sneer.

"As her cousin, the Prince von Gramberg."

"The Prince. You still hold to that farce?"

"Be good enough to explain what you mean."

"Simply that you are no more the Prince von Gramberg than I am, but Heinrich Fischer, an ex-play-actor. Do you dare to deny that?"

"Certainly I do."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Then who are you?"

"For the present, and for the purposes of this interview, I am the Prince von Gramberg, and you will be good enough so to regard me."

"Swashbuckling talk is of no use to frighten me, and I have no time for any further antics of yours. You deceived me for a time, I admit, but I know you now, and, unless you leave my house, I will call my servants, and have you expelled from it and handed over to the police for an impostor."

"No, Baron Heckscher, you will not," I answered firmly, shaking my head. "I know the whole of this inner plot of yours, and can expose it, and will, too, as I told you last night."

"Possibly an effective weapon in a stage-play," he sneered. "But I have no time for folly of this sort."

He crossed the room to the bell, and stretched out his hand as if to ring it.

"I know the scheme to marry my cousin to a man already married, and so to betray and ruin her. And, mark me, if you attempt to send me away, I will go straight to Berlin and denounce the whole of your foul treachery against that girl."

"You speak a fool's tale!" he cried angrily, though he withdrew his hand from the bell.

"Maybe, but even a fool's tale, as you call it, can be sifted. Your scheme now seems on the point of succeeding. The gist of it is that when my cousin Minna is not forthcoming—through your own machinations, mark you—the cry should be raised for the Duke Marx. I have known that throughout, and I too have had my plans. You will find it difficult to play your game of chess without the King."

I enjoyed the start of surprise my words caused. It was now my turn to smile with an air of confidence.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, frowning.

"All that is in your thoughts, and more," said I significantly.

"What do you mean?" he repeated, coming toward me and looking searchingly at me.

"I mean," I began very earnestly, as if about to tell him; but changed my tone, and asked, "Where is the Countess Minna?"

He took his eyes off my face, and glanced quickly from side to side, as some men will in moments of swift, searching thought.

"You have not dared——" he began, and paused.

"You have dared to seize the Queen," said I quickly. "Why should I not dare to seize your King? This is no child's game we are playing."

He started again, pursed his lips, and frowned. I had beaten him. I knew it.

"It is checkmate," said I quietly. "And you may as well admit it. But my game is a cleaner one than yours. You have thought to ruin the Countess Minna either by a bigamous marriage or by a fate so foul that none but a soulless, intriguing traitor would have conceived it. I mean your King no harm; but I swear by every god that man has ever set up for a fetich that if so much as a hair of the pure girl's head is harmed I will visit it a thousandfold on my hostage. Now, will you tell me where is the Countess Minna?"

I had him now fast in my clutches, and turn which way he would there was no escape. To do him justice, so soon as his first dismay had passed his face wore an impassive, expressionless look that told me little. But I could read his other actions.

He had been going to his colleagues to propose that the agitation to bring the Duke Marx forward should be set on foot at once; and this move of mine had beaten him absolutely. Once or twice he let out of his eyes a glance of malice that told me what he would have done had he dared; but I had drawn his fangs, and for the time he was powerless to harm.

While I sat thus watching him and enjoying my triumph, a knock came to the door and a servant entered to say that a messenger had come for me, and wished to see me urgently.

"I will return in a moment," I said as I went out.

The man had brought me a telegram. I tore it open and found it was from von Krugen.

"Safe so far."

I dismissed the man and returned to the baron with a feeling of even greater exultation and confidence than before. I was like a man drowning who, at the last moment, had pulled himself into safety.

"Well, baron?" I asked as I re-entered the room. "Have you decided to answer my question?"

He was writing hurriedly, and glanced up a moment without speaking, then resumed, finished the letter, rang for a servant, and ordered it to be delivered at once.

"That is your answer. It is a letter to excuse my presence for half an hour. It will give time for our conference. Now, what is your motive, and what are your terms?"

As he put the question he wheeled his chair round so that he could face me as he waited for the answer.

NEWS OF MINNA

I did not reply to Baron Heckscher for a few seconds. It was obvious, of course, that matters had taken a new turn, and I sat thinking how to use the situation to Minna's best advantage.

"Now that you are reasonable, we will go back a little way," I said deliberately. "What do you mean by asking me my motive?"

"Presumably you have some strong motive and some object to gain. Though for the purposes of this interview, as you say, I am willing to call you the Prince von Gramberg, or anything else you like, I have proofs that you are nothing of the kind. Apparently you are an adventurer. Certainly you have been Heinrich Fischer, an actor at Frankfort, and that within a year or two. You were there for several years, and have been identified beyond question. What you were before then I neither know nor care. You have played the part of the Prince von Gramberg, and played it with plenty of dash, spirit, skill, and shrewdness. But men don't do these things for no object. You have run an hourly risk of detection as an impostor, and have certainly rendered yourself liable to heavy imprisonment; indeed, proceedings are already in course for your prosecution. Why, then, have you acted in this way?"

"Those are my private affairs," I answered after a pause; "and until you can disprove my assertion I remain the Prince von Gramberg, if you please."

"As you will, your Highness." He gave the title with excellent irony. "I may tell you that when the information reached us it was at the request of the countess's only surviving relative that she was removed from your custody."

"You mean the Baroness Gratz. I had already suspected her treachery; but you will save much trouble by keeping to the plain truth. Your object was not to get the countess out of my custody, but into your own, so that while this plot to place her on the throne had apparently been engineered in her interest it was the Ostenburg heir who should benefit. It was your work to put forward that scoundrel von Nauheim as her husband, so that when she had been ruined by him she would be impossible as a claimant for the throne. We may as well be frank."

He made a movement of anger at this, and then asked sharply:

"If what you say of him be true, how did you know it?"

"We may pass that by," I replied, with a wave of the hand; "sufficient that I did know him. To save her from such a fate has been my motive."

"You have aimed high, young man; but the Countess Minna von Gramberg's hand is not for an ex—for the present Prince von Gramberg." He made the change of phrase with dry significance. "She herself quite understands that."

It was my turn to start at this.

"You mean that what you have said has been told to her?"

"Your tone is enough to show me my information is correct. You will be wise to abandon that idea once for all. Neither her title nor her wealth is for a nameless adventurer."

His words stung me deeply, as no doubt he intended they should.

"If you knew——" I began, but then checked myself in the act of blurting out what I myself might afterward repent, and said instead: "If you knew my real plans, you would see the futility of pursuing this any further."

"That is why I asked what your plans are. What are your terms? Most men have a price. Name yours, and I'll see whether we can pay it."

He spoke with cold deliberation.

"My terms are the safety and immediate liberation of the countess."

"They are impossible, at the present juncture. Impossible."

"Very good; then we resume matters precisely where they were when I entered this room," I replied, and rose as if to leave.

"You have been playing for a big stake, and I have shown you it is out of your reach. This girl is nothing to you—unless she has succeeded in winning your valuable heart. But you are no fool to waste your strength in chasing the unattainable. Give her up. Name your own terms in money and position. Enlist on my side, and whatever you ask you shall have."

"I am not for sale," I answered indignantly.

"Then you will be a fool, that's all. You have said enough to me here, coupled with the fact that you are what I know you to be, to warrant me in clapping you into a jail straightaway, and I will do it, believe me, if you force me."

"If you like to sign the death warrant of the Duke Marx in that way, you can. I have not come here to you without knowing you, and preparing for eventualities. Your part in all this is known to others besides me, and I leave you to judge where you, or those joined with you, would benefit if there were no Ostenburg heir to take the throne. Berlin would have to bring back the madman, or put the Countess Minna on the throne, or some stranger; and, in either event, your power and influence would be gone. But you know all this well enough. Clap me into jail as you say, or have my head cut off if you like it better, but how would it help you? No, baron, you will have to try something else. The cards I hold are too strong for you."

I flung the words at him with a reckless air, and he knew the truth of them. After a moment he replied:

"You mean you will keep to your mad plan of marrying the Countess Minna?"

"I have said nothing of the sort. My object is merely to free her from a position of danger from those against whom alone she is powerless to fight. It has been part of your infernal scheme to ruin her, to take her life, or to shut her up somewhere for the rest of it, because she interferes in some way with your plans."

"And you wished to put her on the throne in spite of us?"

"She has no more wish to become Queen of Bavaria than to become one of your kitchen wenches. You have known this throughout. She has always been against it, and it was only for the purposes of your own double treachery that you would not recognize it openly. Give her the chance and she would renounce all claim to the throne at this very instant. But you would give her no opportunity. You used her to mask your own hidden scheme, and you have always harbored a design against her safety. And now your own precious scheme has failed, as it deserved to. She has been your victim throughout, just as that infamous von Nauheim has been your abominable instrument. Where is that scoundrel now?" I cried.

He paid no heed to the question, but was rapt in thought for some seconds, and, seeing yet another development opening, I resumed my seat.

"Can I believe you?" he asked at length slowly.

"You can please yourself."

"It might be possible," he said thoughtfully, and as if half communing with himself. "You say your terms are that the countess be at once released? What use will she make of her liberty? Or rather, what use will you make of it for her? If she is released, when will the Duke Marx return to Munich? And where would the Countess Minna be?"

I saw his drift in a moment.

"You mean, will I undertake that she is away long enough for this scheme of yours to go through even now?"

"You can put it that way."

"I must see her for myself before I answer."

"Even that might be practicable," he replied cautiously. "I will see."

"Where is she?"

"If this is done, and she is willing, do you pledge yourself to get her away out of the country for the present?"

Something in his accent and tone roused my suspicions, and I watched him very closely as he added:

"And further, that the Duke Marx shall return to Munich as soon as she is at liberty."

"The Countess Minna's fortune must be secured to her," I said, speaking more to gain time to think than with any real care for the money.

"You are cautious for a young man in love," he sneered; "but you need have no fear on that score. You will not lose that."

I saw his object then pretty fully. He perceived that a marriage with an actor and adventurer such as he deemed me would help his plans for the Ostenburgs at least as much as a marriage with von Nauheim. Everything could go forward with his scheme. Minna would be out of the way even as he had planned, and she could still be used as a stalking-horse to cover his great object, and thus the Duke Marx would be called to the throne apparently without having plotted for it.

There was one obstacle that I saw—von Nauheim.

"What of von Nauheim?" I asked. "Where is he?"

The answer was a wave of the hand, as though such a consideration were beneath serious notice.

"Is he with the Countess Minna now?" I asked, my face growing dark.

"He met with some sort of accident last night, it seems," he said, with a shrewd glance at me. "But for that he might have been with her, by the desire of Baroness Gratz. But as it is——" he added, with another hand wave.

"I don't regard him so lightly," said I, in reply to the gesture.

"You have already had to face much more serious obstacles."

"I could not choose the terms then; I can now. But I will take the chance of what I may do. I can almost pledge myself for the countess, unless you have undermined my influence with her. That is your lookout. But if you set her free at once, and she consents, I will pledge myself to let your scheme go on as you desire, and will see that the Duke Marx is back in Munich as soon as the Countess Minna is safe out of the clutches of your agents and across the French frontier. There is no time to lose," I added, rising, for the thought of seeing Minna had filled me with eagerness.

"What guarantee have I that you will do this?"

"None. What can you have—except that the sooner I have shaken myself free from this infernal intrigue the better I shall be pleased."

The sincerity with which I said this appeared to satisfy him; for after a moment he rose to end the interview.

"And where shall I find the Countess Minna?" I asked.

"She had better not return to Munich. She can join you at Gramberg."

"Thank you, I prefer to fetch her myself," I interposed quickly.

"There is a difficulty——" he began thoughtfully.

"Then the sooner it is smoothed away the better," I interrupted.

"I will send you word where to find her. But, first, there are certain matters which must be set straight."

"I don't trust your agents, baron; you had better understand that. What is to be done must be done to-day."

"I am as anxious as you can be for haste. There is more to apprehend from delay than you appear to think. At any moment we may have some interruption from Berlin. But I can say no more now. If you return to the Gramberg house and hold yourself in readiness to start, I will communicate with you at the earliest possible moment. I can do no more. At this instant I myself do not know the exact whereabouts of the countess. She was taken last night to Herr Schemmell's house, close to town here, and early this morning was to have been removed—almost directly after your visit, indeed, of which I was, of course, informed—and was to be taken to his country-seat near Landsberg. But until I know that she has arrived there it would be folly for me to send you out. Those who have charge of her are to use their discretion as events may require."

"I will wait till I hear from you," I said, and as a last word asked, "You say she has been told that I am not her kinsman, the Prince von Gramberg?"

"Certainly. And probably the tale has been garnished with abundant details. The Baroness Gratz is no friend of yours."

"And von Nauheim?"

"If he is well enough he may have gone after them. I cannot say."

"If there is any wrong done to her, I shall set it to your account," I cried passionately, for this news of von Nauheim filled me with rage.

With this I left him, the fear that von Nauheim might even yet be able to deal some treacherous blow haunting me.

On my way from the baron's I called at von Nauheim's house, and there I learned something that added to my disquiet. He had returned home in the small hours of the morning, and after a brief stay in the house had left again, declaring he might be absent for some time. This was to me like oil poured on to a roaring fire.

"Had your master been hurt?" I inquired of the servant.

"Yes, your Highness. I believe he had had a narrow escape in some carriage accident; but he had almost entirely recovered; and happily no serious injury was caused. He was bruised, of course, but seemed much himself again this morning."

This was ill news enough, and I gnashed my teeth in impotent anger, when I reached the house and had to sit kicking my heels in idleness while I waited for news from the baron; and that at the very hour when, for all I knew, von Nauheim might be forcing his abominable attentions on Minna.

Late in the morning, toward noon, something happened that increased my uneasiness. A letter was brought me from Minna. It had been hurriedly written, and was scarcely coherent.

"Cousin Hans,—I am in sore trouble and fear. There is no doubt I am in the hands of the Ostenburg agents—they tricked me at the ball, and I am being taken away from Munich. My aunt Gratz is with me, and it seems that Marie was false and told everything—though I scarcely distrust her. That is one story. Another is so dreadful I dare not think of it. They dare to tell me you are not my cousin, but a spy paid by the King's party to cheat us all and wreck the whole scheme. I don't believe it. I would trust you against the world. I do trust you. But I do so long to see you face to face again and hear from your own lips that all this is false. I believe I am being taken to Landsberg to the country-house of a Herr Schemmell. Aunt Gratz says so, and thinks you could come after us. She will get this letter to you. Try and follow me at once, and save me from I know not what. All this is killing me. Your distracted cousin,

Minna."

What on earth could this jumble mean? The Baroness Gratz the medium of news of this sort. First assuring Minna that I was a rascally spy, and then suggesting that I could follow and rescue them. Of course it was treachery somewhere. Was it to put me off the scent altogether? Were they being taken to some other place? It baffled me, and I could not see a solution.

The fact that von Nauheim had recovered, and, as I knew, had followed them, led me to connect him with the business in some way, but how?

The thought was so maddening that I was raging and fuming at the delay in hearing from the Baron Heckscher when, to my further surprise, Praga was announced.

He had come, he told me, to consult about the disposal of our hostage, the duke.

I turned for a moment with relief from the bewildering puzzle of Minna's letter to ask him his news of the duke.