The Heritage

The abstention of these delegates, all Slavs, coupled with the adverse voting of those who had been led to believe that Maurice was merely the tool of Scythia, turned the scale in favour of Prince Romanos, and led to much lively mutual recrimination afterwards. This ceased only in presence of the astonishing sight of the defeated candidate shaking hands with his successful rival, and promising him all the help he could give in his arduous task. The world, as represented by the diplomatists of Europe and the sightseers, looked on cynically, as at a formal ceremony that meant nothing whatever, but the unsophisticated Emathians accepted the scene in good faith, possibly considering that the experiences of Hagiamavra gave them a more intimate knowledge of the two men than that enjoyed by the politicians.

It was a day of surprises, and not the least of them fell to Zoe’s share. She was standing on the verandah in the afternoon, awaiting eagerly the return of Maurice and Wylie with full details of the defeat, when a carriage drove up to the door, and a slender black-robed figure descended. It was Donna Olimpia Pazzi, and when she saw Zoe looking down at her she made her an eager sign.

“Please don’t call the servants. It is you I am come to see,” she said breathlessly, and hastened up the steps. “I have brought you a book and a message from the Princess,” she went on, still in the same hurried way. “No, not the Princess Dowager—my own Princess, Princess Emilia—a book of poems, which she submits with humility to your matured judgment—they are her own, of course—and hopes that your friendship will justify her boldness. That was my excuse for getting leave to come, but I had something to say to you.”

“Yes?” said Zoe. “Do sit down. Is anything the matter?”

“I will not sit down,” said the girl, with something like defiance. “Forgive me——” she broke off hastily. “I am in great trouble, and I must tell some one. You will not betray me?”

“Certainly not,” said Zoe, much surprised. “Your secret will be safe with me.”

“It is not my own secret only, but I can trust you. Last week you refused a proposal of marriage from the Prince—from Romanos Christodoridi?”

“Most certainly I refused him, though I have no idea how you heard anything about it.” Zoe spoke coldly. “I regarded his proposal as an insult, since he knew I was already engaged.”

“It was a greater insult than you imagined. He is my husband.”

“Your husband—married to you? When? How long——?”

“At Bashi Konak, when he was there wounded. In my Princess’s private chapel, by her chaplain. She was present, and the Princess Dowager.”

“But by Latin rites—and you are a Roman Catholic, too? But the Greeks would never forgive him! It is impossible for him to be Prince.”

“He is Prince, and you will not betray him, because you have promised; nor shall I, because I am his wife—his most unhappy wife. But I could not let you continue to think you had refused him, when he was mine already.”

The curious perverted pride in Donna Olimpia’s voice as she drew up her head haughtily made Zoe wonder, and she felt half repelled, half pitiful. “I don’t understand,” she said. “You are married to him; you have got what you wanted, then, I suppose? Then why are you not happy?”

“How can I be happy?” the girl’s voice was choked. “He cannot acknowledge me, or the Greeks would howl him out of Emathia. The Princess promised me—the Princess Dowager, I mean—that he should not be elected. Then I was to meet him in Paris, where his father would not trouble him, and we should be left in peace. She brought me away from Bashi Konak because she said the secret could never be kept if we were seen together, and it must not come out until we were both safely away from Emathia. Then he came here, and she has hardly let me see him—even in her presence. And now he is Prince, and he can’t claim me after all.” The tears flowed fast.

“Then claim him,” said Zoe, rather unsympathetically.

“And destroy his position? Never! I did not want him to be Prince, but he wishes it, and I dare not cross his will. If he had been defeated in the election, it would not have been my fault, and I could have comforted him. But now he would never forgive me if I betrayed him.”

“Well, really,” said Zoe with some impatience, “so far as I can see, there are only two things that you might do. You can make the marriage public and claim him, or you can go back to Bashi Konak and keep out of his way.”

“You say that, knowing what he is?” cried Donna Olimpia.

“But, speaking as one woman to another, there is one thing you can’t do,” said Zoe earnestly. “You can’t stay on here unless the marriage is recognised. I say that, knowing what he is, as you say. Go back to Magnagrecia if you like—to Bashi Konak at any rate—but don’t stay here.”

“You think he will find himself compelled to follow me, and so ruin his own cause,” was the suspicious reply.

Zoe started angrily. “I was speaking to you for your good,” she said. “Knowing Prince Romanos, I should think it highly unlikely—— No, I won’t say it. But surely you see that you must protect yourself? He won’t do it. I can’t quite make out what part the Princess Dowager has been playing. You don’t think she deceived you deliberately?”

“I think not, but one cannot tell—with her. I don’t believe she wished my husband to be Prince, or why take such pains to promote our marriage?”

“I think you are both merely pawns in her game,” said Zoe. “At any rate, you can’t feel any confidence in consulting her. If it suited her, she would sacrifice you without a qualm. That’s what I always feel about her.”

“You know that she has your brother also in her power?” said Donna Olimpia suddenly. “I know it, because she told me so once, to comfort me. I did not want my husband to be Prince, but neither did I wish him to suffer the humiliation of being defeated by Prince Theophanis. ‘Be tranquil,’ she said; ‘Prince Theophanis will not reign. A word from me would make him impossible.’”

“Then you think she has brought about his defeat?” cried Zoe indignantly. Donna Olimpia shook her head.

“No, and I will tell you why. The hold she has over him is something connected with a paper. When we were at Skandalo, Princess Theophanis visited her twice, in great trouble. They talked very low, and I heard nothing in the anteroom until the end of the second visit. Then they seemed to have come suddenly close to the door, where the icon hangs, and something was said about Prince Christodoridi’s being elected, but I could not hear distinctly. Then I heard the Princess Dowager say something about ‘the paper signed by your husband,’ and Princess Theophanis said, ‘I will give you the paper when my husband’s life is safe,’ or words like that.”

“Well?” said Zoe breathlessly.

“Then on the day we heard that the prisoners were to be released—I am certain of it, because the English naval officer told me the news when he brought a packet of letters and telegrams addressed to the Princess at Therma—she went out without me, to congratulate Princess Theophanis. When she came back, she locked a large envelope up in her desk. Before she did it, she took out a paper that was inside it, with a deep mourning border, read it through, and put it back again. I saw her.”

“The day the flag-lieutenant came?” said Zoe. “But Maurice had only signed one paper then—a letter to a stockbroker—and he could hardly manage that. That was black-edged, I know, but there was nothing in it that could get him or anybody into trouble. Unless Eirene had added what she wanted the money for—but even then—— No, I don’t see what it could have been.”

“You won’t mind my interrupting you for a moment, Zoe?” said Eirene, coming out of the house, “but I saw that you had Donna Olimpia here, and I wanted her to take a note back to the Princess for me. You will be sure to give it her at once, won’t you?” she asked of the girl. “It is very important.”

“Without fail, madame,” said Donna Olimpia, with a certain excitement in her tone. Neither she nor Zoe could help noticing the change in Eirene’s appearance. It was as if years had fallen from her in a few hours, and for the first time since Constantine’s death she actually smiled as she went back into the house.

“I can’t understand it,” said Zoe breathlessly; “but I think there can’t be a doubt that you would be better away from the Princess. I must write and thank Princess Emilia for her book; shall I mention that you are longing to return to her?”

“Am I to leave my husband at the Princess Dowager’s mercy?”

“If you stay here, she has a weapon continually at hand with which to attack him. Once you are at Bashi Konak, he cannot approach you without acknowledging his marriage.”

“Princess, I am torn asunder. I will try to go—and yet I cannot resolve to leave him to himself. While I am in the same city, even though I don’t see him, I can watch over him a little, but if I go away, who knows into what toils he may fall?” wringing her hands with a hopeless gesture.

“Think about it,” said Zoe soothingly. “Would you like my brother or Colonel Wylie to speak to him?” The unhappy girl shrank away. “They would never take advantage of what you have told me, you know; but I see that it would put them in a very awkward position. Well, if you think of anything I could do—— Don’t forget my sister’s note.”

Donna Olimpia caught up the note, and hurried away, almost without a farewell. She found that her mistress had returned from witnessing the public proclamation of Prince Romanos, to which she had not been permitted to attend her, and she received a sharp rebuke for staying out so long. But the sight of Eirene’s note turned the Princess’s thoughts into another channel.

“Insolent!” she muttered, for though impatience might be one of her own failings, this did not make her any more tender towards it in others. “Well, if she will have it, she shall!”

Going to her desk, she took out Eirene’s paper in its envelope, and enclosed both in another envelope, which she addressed to Prince and Princess Theophanis, as if it contained an invitation. Then she called her Dardanian servant.

“You are to give this into the hands of Prince Theophanis and no one else,” she said. “Ask him to open it at once, and to send a message by you that he has received it safely. Go first to the Place de l’Europe Unie—you know where his seat was on the platform—and if he is no longer there, follow him to his house. Lose no time.”

The man obeyed with alacrity, seeing his chance of settling a bet which he had made on the subject of the election with a compatriot employed at the British Consulate and detailed to guard Prince Theophanis. His own sharpest dagger, and the compatriot’s largest and most highly ornamented revolver, had been the stakes, and both would now adorn his girdle. He swaggered out with immense importance, almost knocking down a quiet gentleman who had just alighted at the door as he did so. Prince Soudaroff looked after him uncertainly. If the man had been going in the direction of the Theophanis headquarters he would have ventured to stop him, but the great square in front of the site marked out for the High Commissioner’s palace was the common rallying-ground this afternoon, and he let him go on. The flush of gratified resentment had hardly died from the Princess’s cheek when she received her visitor.

“And the next step?” she said eagerly.

“Patience, madame, patience! You must remember that we do not wish to perpetuate the present unsettled state of affairs. No, let the Emathians perceive the advantages of a settled government, perhaps—who knows?—begin to find them press a little hardly; then will come the opportunity of discrediting the temporary ruler, and the necessity of supplying his place immediately. But we must be prepared to prevent Prince Theophanis from stepping into the vacant place. I presume the document which you hold contains no limitations as to time?”

“None whatever,” said the Princess, concealing beneath a mask of absolute certainty the sudden alarm she felt.

“Since the task was in your hands, madame, I knew it would be well carried out. Still, I think, if I may say so, that in view of your constant journeys, the time has come when the document would be safer in my possession than in yours.”

“I’m afraid I can’t agree to that,” said the Princess, with a smile of which her practised opponent detected the hollowness. “You see I have promised Princess Theophanis not to let it out of my hands unless it becomes necessary——”

“To produce it? Quite so. The promise is given. The mind of the Princess Theophanis is at rest. The promise has done its work; let it pass,” he waved his hand. “You will at any rate permit me to inspect the document, madame? If I should retain it, disregarding your protests, no blame can attach to you.”

“Fie, casuist!” said the Princess playfully.

“You flatter me, madame.”

“But I could not think of such a thing!”

“I await the document, madame.”

“It is useless, Prince.”

“Madame, here I am. Must I say that I do not leave the house without that paper?”

“But I cannot give it you.”

“Cannot, madame? Why not?”

“Because I have returned it. I swore that I would.”

“You have returned it? to Princess Theophanis?”

“Yes—at least to her husband.” The triumph in her tone did not escape Prince Soudaroff, but it was not with sympathy that his eyes gleamed.

“At least, madame, you took the precaution of having it photographed before parting with it?”

“No—I am sorry.” The Princess was startled at last. “I never thought of that.”

“I also am sorry, madame. Do you perceive what you have done? For the gratification of a moment’s malice you have wrecked this great scheme—deliberately thrown away the results of the labour of years. Could you not have been satisfied with sending this priceless paper to Princess Theophanis? Then we might have procured its return by threatening to reveal everything to her husband. But no, you must send it direct to that most impracticable of men, of whom one can only say that he will take the course the least in accordance with prudence and calculation—an honest, single-minded fool! He will probably make it public forthwith.”

“No,” said the Princess, with an inspiration born of dismay, “he will keep it secret—to shield her. Go quickly and play upon his feelings. You will promise secrecy if he will. Otherwise you will make public the conduct of his wife.”

“I will try,” said Prince Soudaroff, a hint of hope in his tones. “But remember, madame, you have failed—grievously. You know the penalty.”

“You will disown me to save yourselves? Oh, quite so! But I have been disowned before this, Prince, and you have been glad to ask for my help again.”

“I hardly think that Prince Kazimir is likely to ask for your help again, madame,” was the biting reply with which Prince Soudaroff took his leave. He chose a somewhat roundabout way to Maurice’s house, for he was anxious to think out the best means of dealing with the situation. The nettle must be grasped boldly, for the slightest sign of weakness would draw attention to the insecurity of his position. To his disgust, there was standing at the Theophanis door a highly ornate carriage and pair,—one of those which had taken part in the state procession round the city,—which from the cavasses and other attendants attached to it he knew to be that of the British Admiral. It was with the fervent hope that the presence of the distinguished visitor would have prevented Maurice from opening the Princess’s envelope that he asked for admittance, to find Wylie and Zoe entertaining the flag-lieutenant in the verandah.

Fate was against him, as he realised the moment he heard that Admiral Essiter was being received by Prince and Princess Theophanis in private. The Dardanian had followed Maurice home from the square, and caught him up just as he reached his own door. He opened the letter as he mounted the steps, and Zoe saw his face change.

“Oh, Maurice, what is it?” she cried. “Not the black-edged paper? Oh!” with a sudden thought, “you don’t say that Eirene gave the ten thousand pounds to the Princess?”

“What does it mean?” said Maurice, bewildered. “What do you mean? What black-edged paper?”

“Donna Olimpia told me just now that the Princess had a black-edged paper, signed by you, which Eirene had given her to save your life; and I knew you had signed nothing but the letter to Merceda. But it was such a small sum, comparatively——”

“This is worse. That could only have discredited the Princess. This discredits us—me.” He laid it before her, and Zoe, after reading it, rose superior to her natural jealousy in a way that showed she had learnt something since her engagement.

“Maurice, you must take it to Eirene, and have it out with her at once. It mayn’t be as bad as it looks. Perhaps she will be able to say something to explain—— At any rate you must settle it with her before you speak to another creature, or things will never be right again between you.”

“That’s true. I will. And you might as well tell Wylie how it is when he comes in. He’ll have to know why I can’t stay in Emathia as we agreed to do.”

He went into Eirene’s sitting-room, and she started up to meet him, but turned white at the sight of the paper in his hand.

“What does this mean, Eirene?” he asked, laying it on the table, and she bent over it and pretended to read it, for the sake of gaining time.

“She swore on the icon to give it back to me,” she murmured at last. It was not what she had intended to say, but all the arguments that raced through her mind seemed utterly futile.

“Perhaps she agreed with me, that when one is disgraced it is as well to know it,” he replied.

“It was to save your life.”

“At the cost of honour.”

“It was the only way. I do care for your honour, Maurice, you know it, but when it was a choice between that and your life——”

“It would have been more—regular—to leave the choice to me.”

“Ah, but I knew which you would choose. Oh, Maurice, don’t look at me like that! I killed Constantine. Was I to kill you too?” It was the first time she had mentioned the child’s death since she had broken the news of it to him, and he realised the intense feeling which had forced the words from her lips, and left her standing like a culprit before him, supporting herself by the table. He strove for calmness.

“No, I suppose it could hardly be expected of you,” he said.

“Maurice!” she flung herself at his feet, “don’t look at me in that way! What is the good of talking quietly when your eyes are killing me? Say what you like—curse me; I deserve it.”

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, get up!” he groaned impatiently. “I don’t want to be hard on you, Eirene. Don’t talk nonsense about cursing. But really, life is not so excessively delightful that one cares to think one has bought it at the price of honour.”

Eirene rose and stood before him. “You have your remedy,” she said, very quietly. “Put the whole blame on me. Deny your signature. Send me away—only forgive me first. I will never utter a word of complaint, and I will always pray for you.”

“You forget that I did sign the thing, after all. Do you want me to cover one baseness with another? No, we will go home quietly, and drop out of sight.”

“There is no need for your future to be ruined. I will go—as you cannot bear to see me. Zoe will take care of you—and Graham Wylie.” Her voice trembled, but she fought down the rising tears. “You trust them; they have not deceived you. You will have your work, and I shall have my punishment. Perhaps when I am dying——”

“Nonsense!” cried Maurice, driven to exasperation. “There is no need for heroic measures. If you will think a moment, you will see it is impossible for me to stay here after this. Our Emathians are brave, at any rate. Well, Scythia spreads a whisper that I saved my life by a disgraceful compact with a Scythian agent. What influence should I have after that? I could not deny it, and you may be quite certain that I shan’t.”

“Maurice,” said Zoe’s diffident voice at the door, “Admiral Essiter and his flag-lieutenant are here. Shall I say you are really too tired to see them?”

“No!” cried Eirene, waking suddenly into fiery energy. “Bring the Admiral in here, in here—at once, Zoe. Maurice, I forbid you to say a word! Leave this to me.”

Poor Admiral Essiter, perceiving on the threshold that he was intruding upon a domestic difference, wished heartily that he had not thought of following up his official visit of congratulation to Prince Romanos with one of condolence to the defeated candidate. He knew something of Eirene by personal experience, and more by report, and the sight of the black-edged paper on the table suggested to him that she was about to separate from Maurice owing to his ill-success in the election, and that he had been pitched upon to assist at the final arrangements. For all the magnificence of his appearance, and his natural coolness, he came very near retreating ignominiously, and Eirene saw it.

“Come in, please, and shut the door,” she said imperiously. “I wish to make a confession in your presence, sir. I have forged my husband’s signature to that paper.”

“Really, Eirene!” said Maurice indignantly. “My wife is not quite herself, Admiral. I signed the paper with my own hand. She doesn’t know what she is saying.”

“Of course not—very natural,” murmured the Admiral soothingly. “This is rather an inconvenient time, isn’t it? You would rather I called another day?”

“No, no!” cried Eirene. “You are to stay. Don’t mind what my husband says.”

“But I must pay a little attention to him in his own house, mustn’t I?” said the Admiral, in the genial voice which had so many times averted a break-up of the European Concert. “You can speak frankly to me, Teffany, you know. If there is anything I can help to arrange, you have only to say so. If not, I go, seeing nothing and remembering nothing.”

“If nothing else will satisfy my wife——” began Maurice unwillingly.

“Nothing will,” said Eirene, with such determination that her husband and the Admiral alike bowed to it.

“Then may I suggest that we should sit down?” said the arbitrator pleasantly, drawing forward a chair for Eirene. “This is not a court-martial, is it?—merely a little friendly talk. You were going to tell me something, Princess?”

“I want you to know,” said Eirene, leaning forward in her chair, with her hands clasped rigidly on her knee, “that I have deceived Maurice and disgraced him——”

“Eirene! You will make the Admiral think——” cried Maurice, but the Admiral held up his hand.

“One at a time, please. We will hear the Princess first. You deceived your husband, ma’am—for his good, of course?”

“Of course,” said Eirene, unconscious of sarcasm. “I made him sign that paper, when he thought he was only signing a letter.”

“You had better see it,” said Maurice, handing the document across the table. The Admiral read it with astonishment.

“This has never left your own possession, I hope, Princess?”

“I wrote it for the Princess Dowager of Dardania, and she has had it till now. She has great influence at the Scythian Court, and she got the Emperor to save Maurice’s life, in return for that. I knew he wouldn’t like my doing it, so I had to mislead him about it.” Eirene’s tone was impenitent.

“And your feeling is that if the existence of this document should ever be asserted, you would be unable to deny it?” asked the Admiral of Maurice, who nodded. “Well, it seems to me that it is at least as discreditable to Scythia as to you—more so, in fact. They can hardly have intended ever to make it public. It was to be a weapon held over you, I presume.”

“Yes. I was to get him to resign without mentioning it, if I could,” assented Eirene, charmed with the Admiral’s penetration. “And it has saved his life, and if I could have helped it he would never have known anything about it. But I know it is just the kind of thing he will never forgive——”

“Eirene!” cried Maurice, stung beyond endurance. “Can’t you see that it is not the thing itself, but your having done it, that is so horrible?”

“And so,” said Eirene, looking very straight at the wall to keep her tears from overflowing, “I am going to take all the blame, and go away to a convent, and never see him again.”

“Come, come!” said the Admiral reprovingly. “We don’t do things of that sort in England, Princess, off the stage—or at least we don’t talk about doing them. You have treated your husband very badly, and I don’t wonder he feels it, but there’s no need to make things worse.”

Eirene drew herself up, and the Admiral noted with secret satisfaction that Maurice moved nearer her involuntarily, and that his voice was very chilling as he said, “My wife and I can settle that between ourselves, Admiral. But if you think there is anything to be done about this paper——”

“You would like to approach the Princess Dowager about it, perhaps? We might frighten her with the threat of making it public. But I fancy she is merely a tool. What I should like would be to get at the person behind her.”

As if in answer to the aspiration, Zoe opened the door and came in, closing it carefully. “Maurice, Prince Soudaroff is here, and is very anxious to see you. I told him the Admiral was with you, and he said he was come about a paper. Do you think it could be——”

“The very man I should have chosen!” said the Admiral.

“Bring him in, Zoe,” said Maurice, taking his stand resolutely beside Eirene, with his hand on her shoulder—a point that Prince Soudaroff noted immediately as he entered. His decision had been reached the moment he learned that the Admiral was closeted with Maurice and Eirene, and he did not wait to be addressed. The Princess Dowager must be thrown over.

“I have come on rather a painful errand,” he said. “There is a document in existence, I understand, affecting the honour of Prince Theophanis. How it was fabricated I hardly know, but I have a horrible fear that a certain exalted lady of our acquaintance has been meddling with politics again. These little irregularities will occur, one must regretfully admit, when ladies interfere in things they know nothing about.”

“The document embodied a certain engagement, to be carried out if Prince Theophanis was elected?” asked the Admiral, who had the paper, face downwards, in his hand.

“Exactly. And I fear the absurd thing has been made the means of causing some little pain to Princess Theophanis? Ah, I was afraid so. Really, a woman can be very cruel when her affections are concerned, and of course the lady of whom I speak imagined she was acting in the interests of her son.”

“Which was a pure delusion?” said the Admiral.

“Absolutely. The idea was puerile.” Never was a lie uttered more unflinchingly like truth.

“And the promise wrung from Princess Theophanis had no effect whatever in obtaining her husband’s release?”

“How could it? Admiral Essiter will hardly imagine that we should traffic with an affectionate wife for the life of her husband at the price of a piece of paper?”

“I could hardly credit it. Then this document is quite valueless?” The Admiral spoke casually, but he had produced a match-box from somewhere, and as he spoke he lighted the paper he held. He saw, if neither of the others did, Prince Soudaroff’s involuntary start forward, instantly checked, to snatch it from destruction. “I think,” he went on, in a business-like tone, as he crushed the last flaming corner, “that it would be as well to have a record of the facts, signed by all of us, for reference in case of need. The lady Prince Soudaroff has mentioned might try to repeat her game on some future occasion. Otherwise, of course, I must safeguard the interests of Prince Theophanis by laying the whole affair before my colleagues, but I should prefer to keep the matter between ourselves.”

“I should prefer it infinitely,” said Prince Soudaroff—on this occasion, probably, with truth.

“Is Colonel Wylie acquainted with the facts?” asked the Admiral of Maurice. “Yes? Then he might act as secretary.”

“I will fetch him,” said Maurice, and Wylie was called, and wrote out a very uncompromising, if not wholly literal, history of the case. When Prince Soudaroff had signed it and taken his leave, the Admiral laughed.

“If Colonel Wylie would be good enough to make another copy, to be laid up in the Theophanis family archives,—which in view of the uncertainty of life in these regions had better be represented by the Bank of England,—I should feel more at ease,” he said. “Otherwise, if the Magniloquent shared the fate of the Maine one night, you would be as badly off as ever.”

Wylie set to work on the copy, and Zoe remained to help him, while Maurice escorted the Admiral to his carriage. When he returned to the verandah, Eirene was awaiting him at the top of the steps.

“Am I to go, Maurice?” she asked him.

“Go? where?”

“I don’t know. To some convent in Scythia, I suppose.”

“Not with my consent.”

“But do you forgive me?”

“Would you do it again?”

“Oh, Maurice!” she hid her face on his shoulder. “If your life depended upon it?”

“Not even then. Not without asking me, at any rate.”

“But that would mean not doing it. Don’t make me promise!”

“I must. Eirene, we have hard work before us, and we ought to be shoulder to shoulder. You mustn’t make me feel that there’s a danger of your working against me, for any reason whatever. Only tell me before you do things. I think you’ll find that it’s happier for both of us.”

“I will,” she murmured. “And look, Maurice, I scribbled this down just now, and I want you to have it put into proper form. Is it too dark for you to read it? It is to say that I give up my right of dealing with Mr Teffany-Wise’s money. It has done more to separate us than anything.”

“It has.” He sighed involuntarily. “If it hadn’t come between us—— Still, it has helped to free Emathia. But we will only deal with it together in future, dear.”

THE END.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES.

Sydney C. Grier was the pseudonym of Hilda Caroline Gregg.

This book is part of the author’s “Balkan Series II.” The series, in order, being: The Heir, The Heritage, and The Prize.

Alterations to the text:

Note: minor spelling and hyphenization inconsistencies (e.g. thunderstruck/thunder-struck, rank-and-file/rank and file, etc.) have been preserved.

[Title Page]

Add brief note indicating this novel’s position in the series. See above.

[Chapter VI]

Change “You musn’t be so doleful” to mustn’t.

[Chapter IX]

“detention in the court yard” to courtyard.

[Chapter XIV]

“it may be necessary any day to to get all our forces together” delete one to.

[Chapter XVI]

“there was no gurantee of even temporary safety” to guarantee.

[Chapter XX]

“for the poor starving peeple around” to people.

[Chapter XXI]

“Wyllie transferred his whole force” to Wylie.

[End of Text]