The Puppet Crown by Harlod MacGrath (e book reader online TXT) 📖

it. There came a respite. The students had not fully recovered from their surprise, and the yells sank into murmurs.

"You curs!" said Maurice, panting. "Shame on you! and an old dog that can't defend himself! You knew he had no teeth."

"God save your Excellency!" laughed a student in the rear, who had not tasted the cane; "you may be sure we knew he had no teeth or we wouldn't have risked our precious calves. Don't let him scare you with the popgun, comrades. At him, my brave ones; he will be more sport than the dog! Down with the Osians, dogs, followers and all!"

"Come on, then," said Maurice, whose fighting blood was at heat. "Come on, if you think it isn't over. There are six bullets in this popgun, and I don't give a particular damn where they go. Come on!"

Whether or not this challenge would have been accepted remains unwritten. There now came on the air the welcome sound of galloping hoofs, and presently two cuirassiers wheeled into the street. What Maurice had left undone with the cane the cuirassiers completed with the flat of their sabers. They had had a brush with the students the night before, and they went at them as if determined to take both interest and principal. The students dispersed like leaves in the wind-all save one. He rose to his feet, his hands covering his jaw and a dazed expression in his eyes. He saw Maurice with the revolver, the cuirassiers with their sabers, and the remnant of his army flying to cover, and he decided to follow their example. The scene had changed somewhat since he last saw it. He slunk off at a zigzag trot.

One of the cuirassiers dismounted, his face red from his exertions.

"Eh?" closely scanning Maurice's white face. "Well, well! is it you, Monsieur Carewe?"

"Lieutenant von Mitter?" cried Maurice, dropping the dog, who by now had grasped the meaning of it all. "You came just in time!"

They shook hands.

"I'll lay odds that you put up a good fight," the Lieutenant said, pleasantly. "Curse these students! If I had my way I'd coop them all up in their pest-hole of a university and blow them into eternity."

"And how did the dog come in this part of the town?" asked Maurice, picking up his hat.

"He was with her Royal Highness. This is charity afternoon. She drives about giving alms to the poor, and when she enters a house the dog stands at the entrance to await her return. She came out of another door and forgot the dog. Max there remembered him only when we were several blocks away. A dozen or so of those rascally students stood opposite us when we stopped here. It flashed on me in a minute why the dog did not follow us. And we came back at a cut, leaving her Highness with no one but the groom. Max, take the dog to her Highness, and tell her that it is Monsieur Carewe who is to be thanked."

Maurice blushed. "Say nothing of my part in the fracas. It was nothing at all."

"Don't be modest, my friend," said the cuirassier, laughing, while his comrade dismounted, took the dog under his arm, and made off. "This is one chance in a lifetime. Her Royal Highness will insist on thanking you personally. O, I know Mademoiselle's caprices. And there's your hat, crushed all out of shape. Truly, you are unfortunate with your headgear."

"It's felt," said Maurice, slapping it against his leg. "No harm done to the hat. Well, good day to you, Lieutenant, and thanks. I must be off."

"Nay, nay!" cried the Lieutenant. "Wait a moment. `There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood -' How does that line go? I was educated in England and speak English as I do my mother tongue-"

"Won't you let me go?" asked Maurice. "Look at my clothes."

"You ought to be thankful that they are dry this time. Come; you'll have a good story to carry back to Vienna. Princesses do not eat people."

"No," said Maurice.

"Ye gods, listen to that! One would think by the tone of your voice that you wished they did!"

There was no resisting this good humor; and Maurice wanted only an excuse to wait. He sat down on the steps, sucked the knuckles of his hand, and contemplated the grin on the cuirassier's face.

"I like you," said the Lieutenant; "I like your sangfroid. The palace is a devil of a dull place, and a new face is a positive relief. I suppose you know that affairs here are bad; no honesty anywhere. Everybody has his hands tied. The students know this, and do as they please. Think of two hundred gendarmes in the city, and an affair like this takes place without one of them turning up!

"I tell you frankly that it is all I can do to withhold the edge of my saber when I meet those students. Last night they held a noisy flambeau procession around the Hohenstaufenplatz, knowing full well that the king had had another stroke and quiet was necessary. They would have waked the dead. I have an idea that I forgot to use the flat of my sword; at least, the hospital report confirms my suspicions. Ah, here comes Max."

"Her Royal Highness desires to thank Monsieur Carewe, and commands that he be brought to her carriage."

Lieutenant von Mitter smiled, and Maurice stood up and brushed himself. The troopers sprang into the saddle and started on a walk, with Maurice bringing up behind on foot. The thought of meeting the princess, together with his recent exertions, created havoc with his nerves. When he arrived at the royal carriage, his usual coolness forsook him. He fumbled with his hat, tongue-tied. He stood in the Presence.

"Monsieur," said the Voice, "I thank you with all my heart for your gallant service. Poor, poor dog!"

"It was nothing, your Highness; any man would have done the same thing." The red in the wheel-spokes bothered his eyes.

"No, no! you must not belittle it."

"If it had not been for Lieutenant von Mitter-"

"Whither were you going, Monsieur?" interrupted the Voice.

"Nowhere; that is, I was going toward my hotel."

"The Continental?"

"Yes, your Highness."

"Step into the carriage, Monsieur;" the Voice had the ring of command. "I will put you down there. It is the least that I can do to show my gratitude."

"I-I to ride with your Highness?" he stammered. "O, no! I-that is-it would scarcely be-"

"You are not afraid of me, Monsieur?" with a smile which, though it had a bit of the rogue in it, was rather sad. She moved to the other side of the seat and put the dog on the rug at her feet. "Perhaps you are proud? Well, Monsieur, I too am proud; so proud that I promise never to forgive you if you refuse to gratify my wish."

"I was not thinking of myself, your Highness, or rather I was. I am not presentable. Look at me; my hat is out of shape, my clothes dusty, and I dare say that my face needs washing."

The Presence replied to this remarkable defense with laughter, laughter in which Maurice detected an undercurrent of bitterness.

"Monsieur Carewe, you are not acquainted with affairs in Bleiberg, or you would know that I am a nobody. When I pass through the streets I attract little attention, I receive no homage. Enter: I command it."

"If your Highness commands-"

"I do command it," imperiously. "And you would have pleased me more fully if you had accepted the invitation and not obeyed the command."

"I withdraw all objections," he said hastily, "and accept the invitation."

"That is better," the Voice said.

Maurice, still uncovered, sat down on the front seat.

"Not there, Monsieur; beside me. Etiquette does not permit you to ride in front of me."

As he took the vacant place beside her he felt a fire in his cheeks. The Voice and Presence were disquieting. As the groom touched the horses, Maurice was sensible of her sleeve against his, and he drew away. The Presence appeared unmindful.

"And you recognize me?" she asked.

"Yes, your Highness." He tried to remember what he had said to her that day in the archbishop's garden. Two or three things came back and the color remounted his cheeks.

"Have you forgotten what you said to me?"

"I dare say I was impertinent," vaguely.

"Ah, you have forgotten, then!"

In all his life he never felt so ill at ease. To what did she refer? That he would be proud to be her friend? That if the princess was as beautiful as the maid he could pass judgment?

"Yes, you have forgotten. Do you not remember that you offered to be my friend?" She read him through and through, his embarrassment, the tell-tale color in his cheeks. She laughed, and there was nothing but youth in the laughter. "Certainly you are afraid of me."

"I confess I am," he said. "I can not remember all I said to you."

Suddenly she, too, remembered something, and it caused the red of the rose to ripple from her throat to her eyes. "Poor dog! Not that they hated him, but because I love him!" Tears started to her eyes. "See, Monsieur Carewe; princesses are human, they weep and they love. Poor dog! My playmate and my friend. But for you they might have killed him. Tell me how it happened." She knew, but she wanted to hear the story from his own lips.

His narrative was rather disjointed, and he slipped in von Mitter as many times as possible, thinking to do that individual a good turn. Perhaps she noticed it, for at intervals she smiled. During the telling he took out his handkerchief, wiped the dog's head with it, and wound it tightly about the injured leg. The dog knew; he wagged his tail.

How handsome and brave, she thought, as she observed the face in profile. Not a day had passed during the fortnight gone that she had not conjured up some feature of that intelligent countenance; sometimes it had been the eyes, sometimes the chin and mouth, sometimes the shapely head. It was wrong; but this little sin was so sweet. She had never expected to see him again. He had come and gone, and she had thought that the beginning and the end. Ah, if only she were not a princess! If only some hand would sweep aside those insurmountable barriers called birth and policy! To be free, to be the mistress of one's heart, one's dreams, one's desires!

"And you did it all alone," she said, softly; "all alone."

"O, I had the advantage; I was not expected. It was all over before they knew what had happened."

"And you had the courage to take a poor dog's part? Did you know whose dog it was?"

"Yes, your Highness, I recognized him."

A secret gladness stole into her heart, and to cover the flame which again rose to her cheeks, she bent and smoothed the dog's head. This gave Maurice an opportunity to look at her. What a beautiful being she was! He was actually sitting beside her, breathing the same air, listening to her voice. She exhaled a delicate perfume such as incorporates itself in persons of high degree and becomes a natural emanation, an incense vague and indescribable. He