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  THE PRINCESS DEHRA

  BY JOHN REED SCOTT

  AUTHOR OF "THE COLONEL OF THE RED HUZZARS," "BEATRIX OF CLARE," ETC.

  WITH ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOR BY CLARENCE F. UNDERWOOD

  PHILADELPHIA AND LONDON J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 1908

  Copyright, 1908, by John Reed Scott

  Published May, 1906

  Printed by J. B. Lippincott Company The Washington Square Press, Philadelphia, U. S. A.

  TO THE REAL PRINCESS

  THE PRINCESS DEHRA

  I THE RECALL

  For the first time in a generation the Castle of Lotzen was entertainingits lord. He had come suddenly, a month before, and presently there hadfollowed rumors of strange happenings in Dornlitz, in which the Duke hadbeen too intimately concerned to please the King, and as punishment hadbeen banished to his mountain estates. But Lotzenia was far from theCapital and isolated, and the people cared more for their crops and theamount of the tax levy than for the doings of the Court. And so itconcerned them very little why the red banner with the golden crossfloated from the highest turret of the old pile of stone, on the spur ofthe mountain overhanging the foaming Dreer. They knew it meant the Dukehimself was in presence; but to them there was but one over-lord: theDalberg, who reigned in Dornlitz; and in him they had all pride--for wasnot the Dalberg their hereditary chieftain centuries before he was theKing!

  True, the Duke of Lotzen had long been the Heir Presumptive, and so, inthe prospective, entitled to their loyalty, but lately there had comefrom across the Sea a new Dalberg, of the blood of the great Henry, who,it was said, had displaced him in the line of Succession, and was tomarry the Princess Dehra.

  And at her name every woman of them curtsied and every man uncovered;blaming High Heaven the while, that she might not reign over them, whenFrederick the King were gone; and well prepared to welcome the new heirif she were to be his queen.

  At first the Duke had kept to the seclusion of his own domain, wide andwild enough to let him ride all day without crossing its boundary, butafter a time he came at intervals, with a companion or two, into thelow-lands, choosing the main highways, and dallying occasionally at somecross-road smithy for a word of gossip with those around the forge.

  For Lotzen was not alone in his exile; he might be banished from theCapital, but that was no reason for denying himself all its pleasures;and the lights burned late at the Castle, and when the wind was from theNorth it strewed the valley with whisps of music and strands of laughter.And the country-side shook its head, and marveled at the turning of nightinto day, and at people who seemed never to sleep except when othersworked; and not much even then, if the tales of such of the servants asbelonged to the locality were to be believed.

  And the revelry waxed louder and wilder as the days passed, and manytimes toward evening the whole company would come plunging down themountain, and, with the great dogs baying before them, go racing throughthe valleys and back again to the Castle, as though some fiend were hoton their trail or they on his.

  And ever beside the Duke, on a great, black horse, went the same woman,slender and sinuous, with raven hair and dead-white cheek; a feathertouch on rein, a careless grace in saddle. And as they rode the Dukewatched her with glowing eyes; and his cold face warmed with histhoughts, and he would speak to her earnestly and persuasively; and she,swaying toward him, would answer softly and with a tantalizing smile.

  Then, one day, she had refused to ride.

  "I am tired," she said, when at the sounding of the horn he had soughther apartments; "let the others go."

  He went over and leaned on the back of her chair.

  "Tired--of what?" he asked.

  "Of everything--of myself most of all."

  "And of everybody?" smiling down at her.

  "One usually tires of self last."

  "And you want to leave me?" he asked.

  She shook her head. "No, not you, Ferdinand--the others."

  "Shall I send them away?" he said eagerly.

  "And make this lonely place more lonely still!"

  "I despise the miserable place," he exclaimed.

  "Then why not to Paris to-night?" she asked.

  "Why not, indeed?" he answered, gravely, "for the others and--you."

  "And you, too?" glancing up at him and touching, for an instant, hishand.

  He shrugged his shoulders. "You forget, there is a King in Dornlitz!"

  "You would go incog. and old Frederick never be the wiser, nor care evenif he were."

  He laughed shortly. "Think you so, ma belle,--well, believe me, I wantnot to be the one to try him."

  The horn rang out again from the court-yard; the Duke crossed to awindow.

  "Go on," he called, "we will follow presently;" and with a clatter and ashout, they spurred across the bridge and away.

  "Who leads?" she asked, going over and drawing herself up on thecasement.

  He put his arm around her. "What matters," he laughed, "since we arehere?" and bent his head to her cheek.

  "Let us go to Paris, dear," she whispered, caressingly; "to theboulevards and the music, the life, and the color."

  He shook his head. "You don't know what you ask, little one--once I mighthave dared it, but not now--no, not now."

  She drew a bit nearer. "And would the penalty now be so very serious?"she asked.

  He looked at her a while uncertainly; and she smiled back persuasively.She knew that he was in disfavor because of his plots against theArchduke Armand's honor and life; and that he had been sent hither indisgrace; but all along what had puzzled her was his calm acquiescence;his remaining in this desolation, with never a word of anger toward theKing, nor disposition to slip away surreptitiously to haunts beyond theborder. Why should he be so careful not to transgress even the spirit ofthe royal order?--he who had not hesitated to play a false wife againstthe Archduke Armand, to try assassination, and to arrange deliberately tokill him in a duel. She remembered well that evening in her receptionroom, at the Hotel Metzen in Dornlitz, when Lotzen's whole scheme hadsuddenly collapsed like a house of cards. She recalled the King's verywords of sentence when, at last, he had deigned to notice the Duke. "TheCourt has no present need of plotters and will be the better for yourabsence," he had said. "It has been over long since you have visited yourtitular estates and they doubtless require your immediate attention. Youare, therefore, permitted to depart to them forthwith--and to remainindefinitely." Surely, it was very general and precluded only a return toDornlitz.

  That the question of the succession was behind it all, she was very wellpersuaded; the family laws of the Dalbergs were secret, undisclosed toany but the ranking members of the House, but the Crown had alwaysdescended by male primogeniture. The advent of Armand, the eldest maledescendant of Hugo Dalberg (who had been banished by his father, theGreat Henry, when he had gone to America and taken service underWashington) had tangled matters, for Armand was senior in line to Lotzen.It was known that Henry, shortly before his death, had revoked the formerdecree and restored Hugo and his children to their rank and estates; andFrederick had proclaimed this decree to the Nation and had executed it infavor of Armand, making him an Archduke and Colonel of the Red
Huzzars.But what no one knew was whether Lotzen had hereby been displaced as HeirPresumptive. How far did the Great Henry's decree of restoration extend?How far had Frederick made it effective? In short, would the next King beFerdinand, Duke of Lotzen, or Armand, Archduke of Valeria?

  And to Madeline Spencer the answer was of deep concern; and she had beenmanoeuvering to draw it from the Duke ever since she had come to theCastle. But every time she had led up to it, he had led away, and withevident deliberation. Plainly there was something in the Laws that madeit well for him to drive the King no further; and what could it be butthe power to remove him as Heir Presumptive.

  And as Lotzen knew the answer, she would know it, too. If he were not tobe king, she had no notion to entangle herself further with him; he wasthen too small game for her bow; and there would be a very chill welcomefor her in Dornlitz from Queen Dehra. But should he get the Crown--well,there are worse positions than a king's favorite--for a few months--theopen-handed months.

  So she slipped an arm about his shoulders and let a whisp of perfumedhair flirt across his face.

  "Tell me, dear," she said, "why won't you go to Paris?"

  He laughed and lightly pinched her cheek. "Because I'm surer of you here.Paris breeds too many rivals."

  "Yet I left them all to come here," she answered.

  "But now you would go back."

  She smiled up at him. "Yes, but with you, dear--not alone." Her handstole into his. "Tell me, sweetheart, why you will not go--might it causeFrederick to deprive you of the succession?"

  For a space the Duke made no answer, gazing the while steadily into thedistance, with eyebrows slightly drawn. And she, having dared so far,dared further.

  "Surely, dear, he would not wrong you by making Armand king!" sheexclaimed, as though the thought had but that moment come.

  He turned to her with quick sympathy, a look of warm appreciation in hiseyes. The answer she had played for trembled on his lips--then diedunspoken.

  He bent down and kissed her forehead.

  "We of the Dalbergs still believe, my dear, that the King can do nowrong," he said, and swung her to the floor. "Come, let us walk on thewall, and forget everything except that we are together, and that I loveyou."

  She closed her eyes to hide the flash of angry disappointment, though hervoice was calm and easy.

  "Love!" she laughed; "love! what is it? The infatuation of themoment--the pleasure of an hour."

  "And hence this eagerness for Paris?"

  She gave him a quick glance. "May be, my lord, to prolong our moment; toextend our hour." He paused, his hand upon the door.

  "And otherwise are they ended?" he asked quietly.

  She let her eyes seek the door. "No--not yet." He slowly closed the doorand leaned against it.

  "My dear Madeline," he said, "let us deal frankly with each other. I amnot so silly as to think you love me, though I'm willing to admit I wishyou did. You have fascinated me--ever since that evening in the HangingGarden when you made the play of being the Archduke Armand's wife. Lovemay be what you style it: 'the infatuation of the moment; the pleasure ofan hour.' If so, for you, my moment and my hour still linger. But withyou, I know, there is a different motive; you may like me passing well--Ibelieve you do--yet it was not that which brought you here, away fromParis--'the boulevards and the music.' You came because--well, whatmatters the because: you came; and for that I am very grateful; they havebeen pleasant days for me----"

  She had been gazing through the window; now she looked him in the eyes.

  "And for me as well," she said.

  "I am glad," he answered gravely--"and it shall not be I that ends them.You wish to know if I am still the Heir Presumptive. You shall have youranswer: I do not know. It rests with the King. He has the power todisplace me in favor of Armand."

  She smiled comprehendingly. It was as she had feared.

  "And the Princess Royal is betrothed to Armand," she commented.

  Lotzen shrugged his shoulders. "Just so," he said. "Do you wonder I maynot go to Paris?"

  She went over to the fireplace, and sitting on the arm of a chair restedher slender feet on the fender, her silk clad ankles glistening in thefire-light.

  "I don't quite understand," she said, "why, when the American wasrestored to Hugo's rank, he did not, by that very fact, become also HeirPresumptive--his line is senior to yours."

  There was room on the chair arm for another and he took it.

  "You have touched the very point," he said. "Henry the Third himselfrestored Hugo and his heirs to rank and estate; but it needs Frederick'sdecree to make him eligible to the Crown."

  "And has he made it?"

  He shook his head. "I do not know----"

  "But, surely, it would be promulgated, if he had."

  "Very probably; but not necessarily. All that is required is a line inthe big book which for centuries has contained the Laws of the Dalbergs."

  She studied the tip of her shoe, tapping it the while on the fender rod.

  "When will this marriage be solemnized?" she asked.

  He laughed rather curtly. "Never, I hope."

  She gave him a quick look. "So--the wound still hurts. I beg your pardon;I did not mean to be unkind. I was only thinking that, if the decree werenot yet made, the wedding would be sure to bring it."

  He put his arm around her waist and drew her over until the black hairpressed his shoulder.

  "Nay, Madeline, you are quite wrong," he said. "The Princess is nothingto me now--nothing but the King's daughter and the American's chiefadvocate. I meant what you did:--that the marriage will lose me theCrown."

  For a moment she suffered his embrace, watching him the while throughhalf closed eyes; then she drew away.

  "I suppose there is no way to prevent the marriage," she remarked, hergaze upon the fire.

  He arose and, crossing to the table, found a cigarette.

  "Can you suggest a way?" he asked, his back toward her, the match aflame,poised before his face.

  She had turned and was watching him with sharp interest, but she did notanswer, and when he glanced around, in question, she was looking at thefire.

  "Want a cigarette?" he said.

  She nodded, and he took it to her and held the match for its lighting.

  "I asked you if you could suggest a way," he remarked.

  She blew a smoke ring toward the ceiling. "Yes, go back to Dornlitz andkill the American."

  "Will you go with me?" banteringly.

  "Indeed I won't," with a reminiscent smile; "I have quite too vivid amemory of my recent visit there."

  "And the killing--shall I do it by proxy or in person?"

  "Any way--so it is done--though one's best servant is one's self, youknow."

  He had thought her jesting, but now he leaned forward to see her face.

  "Surely, you do not mean it," he said uncertainly.

  "Why not?" she asked. "It's true you have already tried both ways--andfailed; but that is no assurance of the future. The second, or some othertry may win."

  A tolerant smile crossed his lips. "And meanwhile, of course, theAmerican would wait patiently to be killed."

  She shrugged her shoulders. "You seem to have forgot that steel vests donot protect the head; and that several swords might penetrate a guardwhich one could not."

  "Surely," he exclaimed, "surely, you must have loved this man!"

  She put his words aside with a wave of her hand.

  "My advice is quite impersonal," she said--"and it is only trite adviceat that, as you know. You have yourself considered it already scores oftimes, and have been deterred only by the danger to yourself."

  He laughed. "I'm glad you cannot go over to my enemies. You read my mindtoo accurately."

  "Nonsense," she retorted; "Armand knows it quite as well as I, thoughpossibly he may not yet have realized how timid you have grown."

  "Timid!"

  She nodded. "Yes, timid; you had plenty of nerve at first, when theAmerican came;
but it seems to have run to water."

  "And I shall lose, you think?"

  She tossed the cigarette among the red ashes and arose.

  "Why should you win, Ferdinand?" she asked--then a sly smile touched herlips--"so far as I have observed, you haven't troubled even so much as topray for success."

  He leaned forward and drew her back to the place beside him.

  "Patience, Madeline, patience," said he; "some day I'm going back toDornlitz."

  "To see the Archduke Armand crowned?" she scoffed.

  He bent his head close to her ear. "I trust so--with the diadem thatnever fades."

  She laughed. "Trust and hope are the weapons of the apathetic. Why don'tyou, at least, deal in predictions; sometimes they inspire deeds."

  "Very good," he said smilingly. "I predict that there is another littlegame for you and me to play in Dornlitz, and that we shall be therebefore many days."

  "You are an absent-minded prophet," she said; "I told you I would not goto Dornlitz."

  "But if I need you, Madeline?"

  She shook her head. "Transfer the game to Paris, or any place outsideValeria, and I will gladly be your partner."

  He took her hand. "Will nothing persuade you?"

  She faced him instantly. "Nothing, my lord, nothing, so long as Frederickis king."

  The Duke lifted her hand and tapped it softly against his cheek.

  "Tres bien ma chere, tres bien," he said; then frowned, as Mrs. Spencer'smaid entered.

  "Pour Monsieur le Duc," she curtsied.

  Lotzen took the card from the salver and turned it over.

  "I will see him at once," he said; "have him shown to my privatecabinet.... It is Bigler," he explained.

  "Why not have him here?"

  He hesitated.

  "Oh, very well; I thought you trusted me."

  He struck the bell. "Show Count Bigler here," he ordered. Then when themaid had gone: "There, Madeline, that should satisfy you, for I have noidea what brings him."

  She went quickly to him, and leaning over his shoulder lightly kissed hischeek.

  "I knew you trusted me, dear," she said, "but a woman likes to have itdemonstrated, now and then."

  He turned to catch her; but she sprang away.

  "No, Ferdinand, no," as he pursued her; "the Count is coming--go and sitdown."--She tried to reach her boudoir, but with a laugh he headed heroff, and slowly drove her into a corner.

  "Surrender," he said; "I'll be merciful."

  For answer there came the swish of high-held skirts, a vision of blacksilk stockings and white lace, and she was across a huge sofa, and, withflushed face and merry eyes, had turned and faced him.

  And as they stood so, Count Bigler was announced.

  "Welcome, my dear Bigler, welcome!" the Duke exclaimed, hurrying over togreet him; "you are surely Heaven sent.... Madame Spencer, I think youknow the Count."

  She saw the look of sharp surprise that Bigler tried to hide by bowingvery low, and she laughed gayly.

  "Indeed, you do come in good time, my lord," she said; "we were so put tofor amusement we were reduced to playing tag around the room--don't beshocked; you will be playing it too, if you are here for long."

  "If it carry the usual penalty," he answered, joining in her laugh, "I amvery ready to play it now."

  "Doubtless," said the Duke dryly, motioning him to a chair. "But first,tell us the gossip of the Capital; we have heard nothing for weeks.What's my dear cousin Armand up to--not dying, I fear?"

  "Dying! Not he--not while there are any honors handy, with a doting Kingto shower them on him, and a Princess waiting for wife."

  The Duke's face, cold at best, went yet colder.

  "Has the wedding date been announced?" he asked.

  "Not formally, but I understand it has been fixed for thetwenty-seventh."

  Lotzen glanced at a calendar. "Three weeks from to-morrow--well, much mayhappen in that time. Come," he said good-naturedly, shaking off theirritation, "tell us all you know--everything--from the newest dance atthe opera to the tattle of the Clubs. I said you were Heaven sent--nowprove it. But first--was it wise for you to come here? What willFrederick say?"

  The Count laughed. "Oh, I'm not here; I'm in Paris, on two weeks leave."

  "Paris!" the Duke exclaimed. "Surely, this Paris fever is the very devil;are you off to-night or in the morning?"

  Bigler shot a quick glance at Mrs. Spencer, and understood.

  "I'm not to Paris at all," he said, "unless you send me."

  "He won't do that, Monsieur le Comte," the lady laughed; and Lotzen, whohad quite missed the hidden meaning in their words, nodded in affirmance.

  "Come," he said, "your budget--out with it. I'm athirst for news."

  The Count drew out a cigar and, at Mrs. Spencer's smile of permission, helighted it, and began his tale. And it took time in the telling, for theDuke was constant in his questions, and a month is very long for such ashe to be torn from his usual life and haunts.

  And, through it all, Mrs. Spencer lay back in sinuous indolence among thecushions on the couch before the fire, one hand behind her shapely head,her eyes, languidly indifferent, upon the two men, her thoughts seeminglyfar away. And while he talked, Count Bigler watched her curiously, butdiscreetly. This was the first time he had seen the famous "Woman inBlack" so closely, and her striking beauty fairly stunned him. He knewhis Paris and Vienna well, but her equal was not there--no, norelsewhere, he would swear. Truly, he had wasted his sympathy onLotzen--he needed none of it with such a companion for his exile.

  And she, unseeing, yet seeing all, read much of his thoughts; andpresently, from behind her heavy lashes, she flashed a smile uponhim--half challenge, half rebuke--then turned her face from him, norshifted it until the fading daylight wrapped her in its shadow.

  "There, my tale is told," the Count ended. "I'm empty as a brokenbottle--and as dry," and he poured himself a glass of wine from thedecanter on a side table.

  "You are a rare gossip, truly," said the Duke; "but you have mostcarefully avoided the one matter that interests me most:--what do theysay of me in Dornlitz?"

  Bigler shrugged his shoulders. "Why ask?" he said. "You know quite wellthe Capital does not love you."

  "And, therefore, no reason for me to be sensitive. Come, out with it.What do they say?"

  "Very well," said Bigler, "if you want it, here it is:--they have thenotion that you are no longer the Heir Presumptive, and it seems to givethem vast delight."

  The Duke nodded. "And on what is the notion based?"

  "Originally, on hope, I fancy; but lately it has become accepted that theKing not only has the power to displace you, but has actually signed thedecree."

  "And Frederick--does he encourage the idea?"

  The Count shook his head. "No, except by his open fondness for theAmerican."

  "I've been urged to go to Dornlitz and kill the American," Lotzenremarked, with a smile and a nod toward Mrs. Spencer.

  "If you can kill him," said Bigler instantly, "the advice is excellent."

  "Exactly. And if I can't, it's the end of me--and my friends."

  "I think your friends would gladly try the hazard," the Count answered."It is dull prospect and small hope for them, even now. And candidly, mylord, to my mind, it's your only chance, if you wish the Crown; for,believe me, the Archduke Armand is fixed for the succession, and the dayhe weds the Princess Royal will see him formally proclaimed."

  The Duke strode to the far end of the room and back again.

  "Is that your honest advice--to go to Dornlitz?" he asked.

  The other arose and raised his hand in salute. "It is, sir; and not minealone, but Gimels' and Rosen's and Whippen's, and all the others'--thatis what brought me here."

  "And have you any plan arranged?"

  The Count nodded ever so slightly, then looked the Duke steadily in theface--and the latter understood.

  He turned to Madeline Spencer. "Come nearer, my dear," he said, "we mayneed your quick
wit--there is plotting afoot."

  She gave him a smile of appreciation, and came and took the chair heoffered, and he motioned for Bigler to proceed.

  "But, first, tell me," he interjected, "am I to go to Dornlitz openly orin disguise? I don't fancy the latter."

  "Openly," said the Count. "Having been in exile a month, you can ventureto return and throw yourself on Frederick's mercy. We think he willreceive you and permit you to remain--but, at least, it will give you twodays in Dornlitz, and, if our plan does not miscarry, that will be quiteample."

  "Very good," the Duke commented; "but my going will depend upon how Ilike your plot; let us have it--and in it, I trust you have notoverlooked my fiasco at the Vierle Masque and so hung it all on my singlesword."

  "Your sword may be very necessary, but, if so, it won't be alone. We haveseveral plans--the one we hope to----"

  A light tap on the door interrupted him, and a servant entered, with thebright pink envelope that, in Valeria, always contained a telegram.

  "My recall to Court," laughed the Duke, and drawing out the messageglanced at it indifferently.

  But it seemed to take him unduly long to read it; and when, at length, hefolded it, his face was very grave; and he sat silent, staring at thefloor, creasing and recreasing the sheet with nervous fingers, and quiteoblivious to the two who were watching him, and the servant standingstiffly at attention at his side.

  Suddenly, from without, arose a mad din of horses' hoofs and humanvoices, as the returning cavalcade dashed into the courtyard, women andmen yelling like fiends possessed. And it roused the Duke.

  "You may go," to the footman; "there is no answer now." He waited untilthe door closed; then held up the telegram. "His Majesty died, suddenly,this afternoon," he said.

  Count Bigler sprang half out of his chair.

  "Frederick dead! the King dead!" he cried--"then, in God's name, who nowis king--you or the American?"

  The Duke arose. "That is what we are about to find out," he said, veryquietly. "Come, we will go to Dornlitz."