SOME DIALOGUE, A SPRAINED ANKLE, AND SOME SOLDIERSThe stranger returned Maurice's salute with open-mouthed dismay;the monocle fell from his eye, he grasped the table with one hand and pushed back the chair with the other, while Maurice heard the name of an exceedingly warm place.
The gendarme, who was leaning against the pillar, straightened, opened his jaws, snapped them, and hurried off.
"Maurice--Maurice Carewe?" said the bewildered Englishman.
"No one else, though I must say you do not seem very glad to see me," Maurice answered, conscious that he was all things but welcome.
"Hang you, I'm not!" incogitantly.
"Go to the devil, then!" cried Maurice, hotly.
"Gently," said Fitzgerald, catching Maurice by the coat and pulling him down into a chair."Confound you, could you not have made yourself known to me without yelling my name at the top of your voice?""Are you ashamed of it?" asked Maurice, loosing his coat from Fitzgerald's grip.
"I'm afraid of it," the Englishman admitted, in a lowered voice.
"And your manly, resonant tones have cast it abroad.I am here incognito.""Who the deuce are you?"
"I am Don Jahpet of Armenia; that is to say that I am a marked man.And now, as you would inelegantly express it, you have put a tag on me.When I left you in Vienna the other day I lied to you.I am sorry.I should have trusted you, only I did not wish you to risk your life.You would have insisted on coming along.""Risked my life?" echoed Maurice."How many times have I not risked it? By the way," impressed by a sudden thought, "are you the Englishman every one seems to be expecting?""Yes." Fitzgerald knocked his pipe against the railing."I am the man.Worse luck! Was any one near when you called me by name?""Only one of those wooden gendarmes."
"Only one of those wooden gendarmes!" ironically."Only one of those dogs who have been at my heels ever since I arrived.And he, having heard, has gone back to his master.Well, since you have started the ball rolling, it is no more than fair that you should see the game to its end.""What's it all about?" asked Maurice, his astonishment growing and growing.
"Where are your rooms?"
"You have something important to tell me?""Perhaps you may think so.At the Continental? Come along."They passed out of the pavilion, along the path to the square, thence to the terrace of the Continental, which they mounted.
Not a word was said, but Maurice was visibly excited, and by constant gnawing ruined his cigar.He conducted his friend to the room on the second floor, the window of which opened on a private balcony.Here he placed two chairs and a small table;and with a bottle of tokayer between them they seated themselves.
"What's it all about?"
"O, only a crown and a few millions in money.""Only a crown and a few millions in money," repeated Maurice very slowly, for his mind could scarcely accept Fitzgerald and these two greatest treasures on earth.
A gendarme had leisurely followed them from the park.He took aside a porter and quietly plied him with questions.Evidently the answers were satisfactory, for he at once departed.
Maurice stared at the Englishman.
"Knocks you up a bit, eh?" said Fitzgerald."Well, I am rather surprised myself; that is to say, I was.""Fire away," said Maurice.
"To begin with, if I do not see the king to-morrow, it is not likely that I ever shall.""The king?"
"My business here is with his Majesty."
Maurice filled the glasses and pushed one across the table.
"Here's!" said he, and gulped.
Fitzgerald drank slowly, however, as if arranging in his mind the salient points in his forthcoming narrative.
"I have never been an extraordinarily communicative man; what Ishall tell you is known only to my former Colonel and myself.At Calcutta, where you and I first met, I was but a Lieutenant in her Majesty's.To-day I am burdened with riches such as I know not how to use, and possessor of a title which sounds strange in my ears."The dim light from the gas-jet in the room flickered over his face, and Maurice saw that it was slightly contorted, as if by pain.
"My father was Lord Fitzgerald."
"What!" cried Maurice, "the diplomat, the historian, the millionaire?""The same.Thirteen years ago we parted--a misunderstanding.Inever saw him again.Six months ago he died and left me a fortune, a title and a strange legacy; and it is this legacy which brings me to Bleiberg.Do you know the history of Leopold?""I do.This throne belongs to the house of Auersperg, and the Osian usurps.The fact that the minister of the duchess has been discredited was what brought me here.Continue."And Fitzgerald proceeded briefly to acquaint the other with the strange caprice of his father; how, when he left Bleiberg, he had been waylaid and the certificates demanded; how he had entrusted them to his valet, who had gone by another route; how the duke had sought him in Vienna and made offers, bribes and threats; how he had laughed at all, and sworn that Duke Josef should never be a king.
"My father wished to save Leopold in spite of himself; and then, he had no love for Josef.At a dinner given at the legation, there was among others a toast to her Majesty.The duke laughed and tossed the wine to the floor.It lost him his crown, for my father never forgave the insult.When the duke died, his daughter took up the work with surprising vigor.It was all useless; father was a rock, and would listen neither to bribes nor threats.Now they are after me.They have hunted me in India, London, and Vienna.I am an obscure soldier, with all my titles and riches; they threaten me with death.But I am here, and my father's wishes shall be carried out.That is all.I am glad that we have come together; you have more invention than I have.""But why did you come yourself? You could have sent an agent.
That would have been simple."
"An agent might be bought.It was necessary for me to come.
