Part 21 (2/2)
”Nice sort of country this, you brought me to,” said Armand.
”It's not the country, my dear boy,” Courtney observed; ”it is beyond reproach. The trouble is that one of your own family still is a barbarian; and you insist upon treating him as though he were civilized.
For my part, I have no patience with your altruism; you've had quite sufficient warning-he tried twice to kill you at the Vierle Masque; and he has told you to your face that you would never be king. Yet you persist in regarding him as fighting square and in the open. Bernheim and Moore are wise-they know your dear cousin-and you,-well, you're a fool if you don't know him, too.”
It was a very long speech for Courtney, and Armand had listened in surprise-it was most unusual for his imperturbable friend to grow emphatic, either in voice or gesture, and it impressed him as Bernheim and Moore never had. In truth, he had no particular scruples against meeting Lotzen in the good, old-fas.h.i.+oned, cloak-and-dagger way; but what irked him was the necessity of being always on the qui vive to resist a.s.sault or to avoid a trap; and the seeming absurdity of it in Dornlitz of the twentieth century. It made him feel such a simpleton, to be looking for bravos in dark alleys, or to wear steel vests, or to be eternally watchful and suspicious of every one and everything.
”What do you want me to do,” he asked; ”go down to Lotzen's palace and stick my sword through him?”
”It's a pity you may not-it's what he would do to you, if he could-but that's not our way; we're civilized ... to a certain point. But what you may do is to take every precaution against him; and then, if you get the chance in fair justification, kill him as unconcernedly as he would kill you.”
The Archduke sat silent, his cigar between his teeth, the smoke floating in a thin strand across his face, his eyes upon the desk before him.
”Of course, my boy,” Courtney went on, after a pause, ”I a.s.sume you are in the game to the end, and in to win. If you're not, the whole matter is easy of adjustment-renounce the Crown and marry the Princess ... and live somewhere beyond the borders of Valeria-come back to America, indeed; I'll see that you have again your commission in the Engineer's--”
Armand's lips closed a bit tighter on his cigar, his fingers began to play upon the chair-arm, and his glance s.h.i.+fted for an instant to the other's face, then back to the desk. And Courtney read his mind and pressed on to clinch the purpose.
”But if you're in to win-and it's your duty to your friends to win; it's your duty to your friends to win, I repeat-your first obligation is to keep alive; a dead archduke is of no earthly use in the king business we have in hand. You may go straight to Glory, but that won't help out the poor devils you leave here in Lotzen's clutches, and who have been true to you, never doubting that you would be true to them. Your life belongs to them, now; and you have no right to fritter it away in silly, stubborn recklessness.... There, I've spoken my mind, and quite too frankly, may be; but I'll promise never to bother you again. After all, it's for you to decide-not for a meddling friend.”
The Archduke smiled. ”And just to prove that the friend isn't meddling, I shall accept his advice-bearing in mind, however, that this is particularly an exigency where prudence must be subordinate to daring.
Prudence is all very well in the abstract, but it is more dangerous to our success than recklessness. I'm playing for a Crown and a Nation's favor-let my personal courage be questioned for an instant, and the game is lost as surely as though I were dead. As for my dear cousin of Lotzen, I a.s.sure you I've not the least scruple about killing him, under proper opportunity. In fact, I'm inclined to think I should rather enjoy it. I admit now that there have been times when I regret I didn't run him through at the Vierle Masque.”
Courtney nodded. ”It would have saved you all this trouble-I wanted to call to you to make an end of him.”
”I can't do murder; I had disarmed him. Next time, I'll make a different play.”
”There won't be a next time, if the Duke has the choosing. He isn't the sort to seek death, and he knows you are his master. You'll have to kill him in a melee, or manuvre him into a position where he has no option but to fight.”
”He is manuvring himself into a position where he will have to contend with a far more formidable blade than mine.”
Courtney's eye-brows lifted expressively. Than the Archduke himself there was but one better swordsman in the kingdom.
”What has Lotzen been doing to Moore?” he asked.
”Insulting Elise d'Essolde.”
”By making advances?”
Armand nodded. ”And in a particularly nasty way.”
”He isn't bothered about Moore,” said Courtney. ”He thinks he is safe from any one that isn't of his station.”
”He doesn't know the Irishman-Moore would kill him without a thought.”
”I'm not so sure,” said Courtney. ”Moore is bred to respect for royalty; he would hesitate to use sword against one of the Blood except in defense.”
”Lotzen would best not bank much on that for immunity if he pursue d'Essolde.”
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