Long Live the King! Read online

  CHAPTER IV. THE TERROR

  Until late that night General Mettlich and the King talked together.The King had been lifted from his bed and sat propped in a great chair.Above his shabby dressing-gown his face showed gaunt and old. In astraight chair facing him sat his old friend and Chancellor.

  "What it has shown is not entirely bad," said the King, after a pause."The boy has initiative. And he made no attempt at evasion. He isessentially truthful."

  "What it has also shown, sire, is that no protection is enough. When I,who love the lad, and would--when I could sleep, and let him get away,as I did--"

  "The truth is," said the King, "we are both of us getting old." Hetapped with his gnarled fingers on the blanket that lay over his knees."The truth is also," he observed a moment later, "that the boy has veryfew pleasures. He is alone a great deal."

  General Mettlich raised his shaggy head. Many years of wearing asoldier's cap had not injured his heavy gray hair. He had bristlingeyebrows, white new, and a short, fighting mustache. When he wasirritated, or disagreed with any one, his eyebrows came down and themustache went up.

  Many years of association with his king had given him the right to talkto him as man to man. They even quarreled now and then. It was a braveman who would quarrel with old Ferdinand II.

  So now his eyebrows came down and his mustache went up. "How--alone,sire?"

  "You do not regard that bigoted Englishwoman as a companion, do you?"

  "He is attached to her."

  "I'm damned if I know why," observed the old King. "She doesn't appearto have a single human quality."

  Human quality! General Mettlich eyed his king with concern. Since whenhad the reigning family demanded human qualities in their governesses?"She is a thoughtful and conscientious woman, sire," he said stiffly. Ithappened that he had selected her. "She does her duty. And as to the boybeing lonely, he has no time to be lonely. His tutors--"

  "How old is he?"

  "Ten next month."

  The King said nothing for a time. Then--"It is hard," he said atlast, "for seventy-four to see with the eyes of ten. As for thisafternoon--why in the name of a thousand devils did they take him to seethe 'Flying Dutchman'? I detest it."

  "Her Royal Highness--"

  "Annunciata is a fool," said His Majesty. Then dismissing his daughterwith a gesture, "We don't know how to raise our children here," he saidimpatiently. "The English do better. And even the Germans--"

  It is not etiquette to lower one's eyebrows at a king, and glare. ButGeneral Mettlich did it. He was rather a poor subject. "The Germans havenot our problem, sire," he said, and stuck up his mustache.

  "I'm not going to raise the boy a prisoner," insisted the Kingstubbornly. Kings have to be very stubborn about things. So many peopledisapprove of the things they want to do.

  Suddenly General Mettlich bent forward and placed a hand on the oldman's knee. "We shall do well, sire," he said gravely, "to raise the boyat all."

  There was a short silence, which the King broke. "What is new?"

  "We have broken up the University meetings, but I fancy they go on,in small groups. I was gratified, however, to observe that a groupof students cheered His Royal Highness yesterday as he rode past theUniversity buildings."

  "Socialism at twenty," said the King, "is only a symptom of the unrestof early adolescence. Even Hubert"--he glanced at the picture--"wastouched with it. He accused me, I recall, of being merely an accident, asort of stumbling-block in the way of advanced thought!"

  He smiled faintly. Then he sighed. "And the others?" he asked.

  "The outlying districts are quiet. So, too, is the city. Too quiet,sire."

  "They are waiting, of course, for my death," said the King quietly. "Ifonly, you were twenty years younger than I am, it would be better." Hefixed the General with shrewd eyes. "What do those asses of doctors sayabout me?"

  "With care, sire--"

  "Come, now. This is no time for evasion."

  "Even at the best, sire--" He looked very ferocious, and cleared histhroat. He was terribly ashamed that his voice was breaking.. "Even atthe best, but of course they can only give an opinion--"

  "Six months?"

  "A year, sire."

  "And at the worst!" said the King, with a grim smile. Then; followinghis own line of, thought: "But the people love the boy, I think."

  "They do. It is for that reason, sire, that I advise particularcaution." He hesitated. Then, "Sire," he said earnestly, "there issomething of which I must speak. The Committee of Ten has organizedagain."

  Involuntarily the King glanced at the photograph on the table.

  "Forgive me, sire, if I waken bitter memories. But I fear--"

  "You fear!" said the King. "Since when have you taken to fearing?"

  "Nevertheless," maintained General Mettlich doggedly, "I fear. This quietof the last few months alarms me. Dangerous dogs do not bark. I trust noone. The very air is full of sedition."

  The King twisted his blue-veined old hands together, but his voice wasquiet. "But why?" he demanded, almost fretfully. "If the people are fondof the boy, and I think they are, to--to carry him off, or injure him,would hurt the cause. Even the Terrorists, in the name of a republic,can do nothing without the people."

  "The mob is a curious thing, sire. You have ruled with a strong hand.Our people know nothing but to obey the dominant voice. The boy outof the way, the prospect of the Princess Hedwig on the throne, a fewdemagogues in the public squares--it would be the end."

  The King leaned back and closed his eyes. His thin, arched nose lookedpinched. His face was gray.

  "All this," he said, "means what? To make the boy a prisoner, to cut offhis few pleasures, and even then, at any time--"

  "Yes, sire," said Mettlich doggedly. "At any time."

  Outside in the anteroom Lieutenant Nikky Larisch roused himself, yawned,and looked at his watch. It was after twelve, and he had had a hard day.He put a velvet cushion behind his head, and resolutely composed himselfto slumber, a slumber in which were various rosy dreams, all centeredabout the Princess Hedwig. Dreams are beyond our control.

  Therefore a young lieutenant running into debt on his pay may withoutpresumption dream of a princess.

  All through the Palace people were sleeping. Prince Ferdinand WilliamOtto was asleep, and riding again the little car in the Land of Delight.So that, turning a corner sharply, he almost fell out of bed.

  On the other side of the city the little American boy was asleep also.At that exact time he was being tucked up by an entirely efficient andplacid-eyed American mother, who felt under his head to see that his earwas not turned forward. She liked close-fitting ears.

  Nobody, naturally, was tucking up Prince Ferdinand William Otto. Orattending to his ears. But, of course, there were sentries outside hisdoor, and a valet de chambre to be rung for, and a number of embroideredeagles scattered about on the curtains and things, and a countrysurrounding him which would one day be his, unless--

  "At any time," said General Mettlich, and was grimly silent.

  It was really no time for such a speech. But there is never a good timefor bad news.

  "Well?" inquired the King, after a time. "You have something to suggest,I take it."

  The old soldier cleared his throat. "Sire," he began, "it is said thata chancellor should have but one passion--his King. I have two: my Kingand my country."

  The King nodded gravely. He knew both passions, relied on both. Andfound them both a bit troublesome at times!

  "Once, some years ago, sire, I came to you with a plan. The PrincessHedwig was a child then, and his late Royal Highness was--still withus. For that, and for other reasons, Your Majesty refused to listen.But things have changed. Between us and revolution there stand only thefrail life of a boy and an army none too large, and already, perhaps,affected. There is much discontent, and the offspring of discontent isanarchy."

  The King snarled. But Mettlich had taken his courage in his hands, andwent on. Their neighbor
and hereditary foe was Karnia. Could they anylonger afford the enmity of Karnia? One cause of discontent was theexpense of the army, and of the fortifications along the Karnian border.If Karnia were allied with them, there would be no need of so greatan army. They had the mineral wealth, and Karnia the seaports. The olddream of the Empire, of a railway to the sea, would be realized.

  He pleaded well. The idea was not new. To place the little King Otto IXon the throne and keep him there in the face of opposition would requiresupport from outside. Karnia would furnish this support. For a price.

  The price was the Princess Hedwig.

  Outside, Nikky Larisch rose, stretched, and fell to pacing the floor.It was one o'clock, and the palace slept. He lighted a cigarette, andstepping out into a small balcony which overlooked the Square, faced thequiet night.

  "That is my plea, sire," Mettlich finished. "Karl of Karnia isanxious to marry, and looks this way. To allay discontent and growinginsurrection, to insure the boy's safety and his throne, to beatour swords into ploughshares"--here he caught the King's scowl; andadded--"to a certain extent, and to make us a commercial as well asa military nation, surely, sire, it gains much for us, and loses usnothing."

  "But our independence!" said the King sourly.

  However, he did not dismiss the idea. The fright of the afternoonhad weakened him, and if Mettlich were right--he had what the Kingconsidered a perfectly damnable habit of being right--the Royalist partywould need outside help to maintain the throne.

  "Karnia!" he said. "The lion and the lamb, with the lamb inside thelion! And in, the mean time the boy--"

  "He should be watched always."

  "The old she-dragon, the governess--I suppose she is trustworthy?"

  "Perfectly. But she is a woman."

  "He has Lussin." Count Lussin was the Crown Prince's aide-de-camp.

  "He needs a man, sire," observed the Chancellor rather tartly.

  The King cleared his throat. "This youngster he is so fond of, youngLarisch, would he please you better?" he asked, with ironic deference.

  "A good boy, sire. You may recall that his mother--" He stopped.

  Perhaps the old King's memory was good. Perhaps there was a change inMettlich's voice.

  "A good boy?"

  "None better, sire. He is devoted to His Royal Highness. He is stillmuch of a lad himself. I have listened to them talking. It is a questionwhich is the older! He is outside now."

  "Bring him in. I'll have a look at him."

  Nikky, summoned by a chamberlain, stopped inside the doorway and boweddeeply.

  "Come here," said the King.

  He advanced.

  "How old are you?"

  "Twenty-three, sire."

  "In the Grenadiers, I believe."

  Nikky bowed.

  "Like horses?" said the King suddenly.

  "Very much, sire."

  "And boys?"

  "I--some boys, sire."

  "Humph! Quite right, too. Little devils, most of them." He drew himselftap in his chair. "Lieutenant Larisch," he said, "His Royal Highness theCrown Prince has taken a liking to you. I believe it is to you that ourfright to-day is due."

  Nikky's heart thumped. He went rather pale.

  "It is my intention, Lieutenant Larisch, to place the Crown Prince inyour personal charge. For reasons I need not go into, it is imperativethat he take no more excursions alone. These are strange times, whensedition struts in Court garments, and kings may trust neither theirarmies nor their subjects. I want," he said, his tone losing itsbitterness, "a real friend for the little Crown Prince. One who is bothbrave and loyal."

  Afterward, in his small room, Nikky composed a neat, well-roundedspeech, in which he expressed his loyalty, gratitude, and undyingdevotion to the Crown Prince. It was an elegant little speech.Unluckily, the occasion for it had gone by two hours.

  "I--I am grateful, sire," was what he said. "I--" And there he stoppedand choked up. It was rather dreadful.

  "I depend on you, Captain Larisch," said the King gravely, and noddedhis head in a gesture of dismissal. Nikky backed toward the door, strucka hassock, all but went down, bowed again at the door, and fled.

  "A fine lad," said General Mettlich, "but no talker."

  "All the better," replied His Majesty. "I am tired of men who talk well.And"--he smiled faintly--"I am tired of you. You talk too well. You makeme think. I don't want to think. I've been thinking all my life. It istime to rest, my friend."