Part 8 (1/2)
Count Epping drew his sword and raised it high.
”Valeria hails the Head of the House of Dalberg as the King!” he cried.
And back from the others, as their blades rang together above the table, came the echo:
”We hail the Dalberg King!”
It was the ancient formula, which had always been used to welcome the new ruler upon his first entrance to the Royal Council.
And it had come as yet another scar to Retz, for it put him to the choice-whether to play the fool now, or the dastard later-and that with every eye upon him, even the Archduke's, whose glance had instinctively followed the others'. Yet he had made it instantly, smiling mockingly at the Count; and his voice rang loud and his sword was the last to fall.
But Armand knew nothing of this old ceremony, and the surprise of it brought him sharply to his feet, with his hand at the salute, while his face and brow went ruddy and his fingers chill. It was for him to speak, he knew, yet speak he could not. But when led by Count Epping, they crowded close about him and bent knee and would have kissed his hand, he drew back and waved them up.
”I thank you, my lords, I thank you from my heart,” he said gravely, ”though not yet will I a.s.sume to accept either the homage or the greeting. They belong to him who is King of Valeria, and whether I be he I do not know. As the eldest male, the presumption is with me; yet as the monarch has full power to choose his successor from any of the Dalbergs, it may have been his pleasure, under the peculiar conditions now existing, to name another as his heir. Hence it is my purpose to submit to you the Book of Laws, that you may inspect the decrees and ascertain to whom the Crown descends. I am informed this is a proceeding utterly unknown; that the Dalberg Laws are seen only by Dalberg eyes. Yet, as I apprehend there will be another claimant, who will have a hearty following, and as, in the end, it is the Laws that will decide between us, it is best they should decide now. If, by them, I am King of Valeria I will a.s.sume the Crown and its prerogatives; and if I am not King, then I will do homage to him who is, and join with you in his service.”
He paused, and instantly General Duval flashed up his sword.
”G.o.d save Your Royal Highness!” he cried. ”G.o.d grant that you be King.”
And as the others gave it back for answer, their blades locked above the Archduke's head, the corridor door behind them swung open, and Ferdinand of Lotzen entered and, unnoticed, came slowly down the room.
All night, with a clear track and a special train, he had been speeding to the Capital, anxious and fearful, for in an inter-regnum hours count as days against the absent claimant to a throne. But when, at the station, he learned from Baron Rosen that the Proclamation had not yet been issued and the Council had been called for ten o'clock, the prospect brightened, and he hurried to the Palace.
Yet there was small encouragement in the scene before him, though the words of the acclaim and the black box on the table puzzled him. Why, with the Laws at their disposal, should there be any doubt as to who was King! So he leaned upon a chair and waited, a contemptuous smile on his lips, a storm of hate and anger in his heart. Those shouts, those swords, those ardent faces should all have been his; would all have been his, but for this foreigner, this American, this usurper, this thief. And his fingers closed about his sword's hilt and, for the shadow of an instant, he was tempted to spring in and drive the blade through his rival's throat. But instead he laughed-and when at the sound they whirled around, he laughed again, searching the while every face with his crafty eyes, and, save in Retz's, finding no trace of confusion nor regret.
”A pretty picture, messieurs,” he jeered, ”truly, a pretty picture-pray don't let me disturb it; though I might inquire, since when has the Royal Council of Valeria gone in for private theatricals!”
And Armand promptly gave him back his laugh.
”Our cousin of Lotzen appears in good time,” he said very softly. ”Will he not come into the picture?”
Ferdinand shook his head. ”In pictures of that sort, there can be but one central figure,” he answered.
The Archduke swung his hand toward the Ministers.
”True, quite true,” said he; ”but there is ample s.p.a.ce for Your Royal Highness in the background.”
Lotzen's face went white, and he measured Armand with the steady stare of implacable hate, though on his lips the sneering smile still lingered.
And presently he answered: ”I trust, monsieur, you will not mistake my meaning, when I a.s.sure you that there isn't s.p.a.ce enough in such a picture to contain us both.”
”It is a positive pleasure, Monsieur le Duc,” returned Armand quickly, ”to find, at last, one matter in which our minds can meet.”
And so, for a time, they stood at gaze, while the others watched them, wondering and in silence. Then the Archduke spoke again:
”And now, my dear cousin, since we understand each other, I suggest we permit the Royal Council to continue its session. Be seated, messieurs;”
and with a nod to the Ministers, he resumed his place at the head of the table.