"Good-by to Doppelkinn"s _Frau_!"
"Good girl!"
"She has been missing since seven o"clock, when she drove away on the pretense of visiting her father"s old steward, who is ill," went on Max, feeling the importance of his news. "They traced her there. From the steward"s the carriage was driven south, and that"s the last seen of her. There won"t be any wedding at the cathedral next Tuesday,"--laughing.
Queries and answers were going crisscross over the table, when I observed with dread that Lieutenant von Storer had risen and was coming our way. He stopped at Max"s side. Max looked up to receive Von Storer"s glove full on the cheek. It was no gentle stroke. Von Storer at once returned to his table and sat down.
For a moment we were all absolutely without power of motion or of speech, Max"s face grew as white as the table-cloth, and the print of the glove glowed red against the white. I was horrified, for I knew his tremendous strength. If he showed fight, Von Storer would calmly saber him. It was the custom. But Max surprised me. He was the coolest among us, but of that quality of coolness which did not rea.s.sure me. He took up his story where he had left off and finished it. For his remarkable control I could have taken him in my arms and hugged him.
The officers scowled, while Von Storer bit his mustache nervously. The American had ignored his insult. Presently he rose again and approached. He thrust a card under Max"s nose.
"Can you understand that?" he asked contemptuously.
Max took the card, ripped it into quarters and dropped these to the floor. Then, to my terror and the terror of those with me, he tranquilly pulled out a murderous-looking Colt and laid it beside his plate. He went on talking, but none of us heard a word he said. We were fearfully waiting to see him kill some one or be killed.
No one was killed. The officers hurriedly took down their sabers and made a bee-line for the door of which I have spoken.
Max returned the revolver to his hip-pocket and gave vent to an Homeric laugh.
"You tow-headed Dutchman!" I cried, when I found voice for my words, "what have you done?"
"Done? Why, it looks as if we had all the downs this half," he replied smartly. "Oh, the gun isn"t loaded,"--confidentially.
Ellis fumbled in his pockets and produced his pa.s.sports and tickets.
These he shoved over to Max.
"What"s this for?" Max asked curiously.
"Ellis," said I, "it is very good of you. Max, take those. Mr. Ellis wishes to save your hide. Take them and get to the station as quickly as you can. And for the love of mercy, do not turn around till you"re over in Doppelkinn"s vineyards."
"Well, I"m hanged if I understand!" he cried. "I"m a peaceful man. A beggar walks up to me and slaps me in the face for nothing at all, and now I must hike, eh? What the devil have I done now?"
Then, as briefly as I could, I explained the enormity of his offenses.
To take a chair from a table, as he had done, was a gross insult; to receive a slap in the face and not to resent it, was another insult; to tear up an opponent"s visiting-card, still another; to take out a revolver in Barscheit, unless you were an officer or had a permit, was worse than an insult; it was a crime, punishable by long imprisonment.
They could accuse him of being either an anarchist or a socialist-red, coming to Barscheit with the intent to kill the grand duke. The fact that he was ignorant of the laws, or that he, was an alien, would remit not one particle of his punishment and fine; and weeks would pa.s.s ere the matter could be arranged between the United States and Barscheit.
"Good Lord!" he gasped; "why didn"t you tell me?"
"Why didn"t you tell me that you carried a cannon in your pocket? Take Ellis" papers, otherwise you stand pat for a heap of trouble, and I can"t help you. Go straight to Dresden, telegraph me, and I"ll forward your luggage."
"But I came here to study!" Max argued.
"It will be geology in the form of prison walls," said Ellis quietly.
"Don"t be foolish, Mr. Scharfenstein; it is not a matter of a man"s courage, but of his common sense. Take the tickets and light out. I have lived here for three years, and have seen men killed outright for less than you have done."
"But you don"t expect me to leave this place without punching that beggar"s head?"--indignantly. "What do you think I"m made of?"
"You"ll never get the chance to punch his head," said I. "We are wasting valuable time. Those officers have gone for the police. You have about twenty minutes to make the train. Come, for heaven"s sake, come!"
He finally got it into his head that we knew what we were talking about. How we got him to the station I do not remember, but somehow we got him there. He sputtered and fumed and swore, as all brave men will who feel that they are running away in a cowardly fashion. He wasn"t convinced, but he thanked Ellis for his kindness and hoped that he wouldn"t get into trouble on his (Max"s) account.
"Go straight to Dresden; say you"ve been studying medicine in Barscheit for three years; refer to me by telegraph if there is any question as to your new ident.i.ty," said I. "You"re the only man in the world, Max, that I"d lie for."
He stumbled through the gates, and we saw him open the door of a carriage just as the train began to pull out. A guard tried to stop him, but he was not quite quick enough. We watched the train till it melted away into the blackness beyond the terminus covering; then we, I and my fellow diners, went soberly into the street. Here was a howdy-do! Suddenly Ellis let out a sounding laugh, and, scarcely knowing why, we joined him. It was funny, very funny, for every one but poor old Max! The American spirit is based on the sense of humor, and even in tragic moments is irrepressible.
We did not return to Muller"s; each of us stole quietly home to await the advent of the police, for they would rout out every American in town in their search for the man with the gun. They would first visit the consulate and ascertain what I knew of the affair; when they got through with the rest of the boys Max would be in Doppelkinn. The police were going to be very busy that night: a princess on one hand and an anarchist on the other.
There were terrible times, too, in the palace. Long before we watched Max"s train and the vanishing green and red lights at the end of it the grand duke was having troubles of his own. He was pacing wildly up and down in his dressing-room. Clutched in his fist was a crumpled sheet of paper. From time to time he smoothed it out and re-read the contents. Each time he swore like the celebrated man in Flanders.
_You forced me and I warned you that I would do something desperate.
Do not send for me, for you will never find me till you come to your senses. I have eloped._
_Hildegarde._
VIII
Shortly before six o"clock--dinner in the palace was rarely served until half-after eight--the Honorable Betty sat down to her writing-desk in her boudoir, which opened directly into that belonging to the princess, to write a few letters home. A dinner was to be given to the state officials that night, and she knew from experience that after that solemn event was concluded it would be too late for the departing mails. She seemed to have no difficulty in composing her thoughts and transferring them to paper. There were times when she would lean back, nibble the end of her pen and smile in a dreamy, retrospective fashion. No doubt her thoughts were pleasant and agreeable.
She had completed addressing three envelopes, when she heard the door leading into the princess" boudoir open and close. She turned to behold the princess herself.
"Why, Gretchen, where are you going?"--noting the grey walking-dress, the grey hat, the sensible square-toed shoes.
"I am going to visit a sick nurse," replied her Highness, avoiding the other"s eye.
"But shall you have time to dress for dinner?"
"That depends. Besides, the official dinners are a great bore." Her Highness came forward, caught the dark head of the English girl between her gloved hands, pressed it against her heart, bent and kissed it.
"What a lovely girl you are, Betty! always unruffled, always even-tempered. You will grow old very gracefully."
"I hope so; but I do not want to grow old at all. Can"t I go with you?"--eagerly.
"Impossible; etiquette demands your presence here to-night. If I am late my rank and my errand will be my excuse. What jolly times we used to have in that quaint old boarding-school in St. John"s Wood! Do you remember how we went to your n.o.ble father"s country place one Christmas? I went _incognita_. There was a children"s party, and two boys had a fisticuff over you. n.o.body noticed me those days. I was happy then." The princess frowned. It might have been the sign of repression of tears. Betty, with her head against the other"s bosom, could not see. "I shall be lonely without you; for you can not stay on here for ever. If you could, it would be different. I shall miss you.
Somehow you possess the faculty of calming me. I am so easily stirred into a pa.s.sion; my temper is so surface-wise. Some day, however, I shall come to England and spend a whole month with you. Will not that be fine?"
"How melancholy your voice is!" cried Betty, trying without avail to remove her Highness" hands.
"No, no; I want to hold you just so. Perhaps I am sentimental to-night. I have all the moods, agreeable and disagreeable. . . . Do you love anybody?"
"Love anybody? What do you mean?"--rising in spite of the protesting hands. "Do I look as if I were in love with anybody?"
They searched each other"s eyes.
"Oh, you islanders! n.o.body can fathom what is going on in your hearts.
You never make any mistakes; you always seem to know which paths to pursue; you are always right, always, always. I"d like to see you commit a folly, Betty; it"s a wicked wish, I know, but I honestly wish it. There is certainly more Spanish blood in my veins than German. I am always making mistakes; I never know which path is the right one; I am always wrong. Do you believe it possible for a woman of birth and breeding to fall in love with a man whom she has known only three days?"