Part 22 (2/2)

”More likely, in your view of him,” said Armand, ”it is to decoy me into a trap where he can make an end of me.”

”I believe you've guessed it,” said Courtney, after a moment's thought; ”and what is more, it's the key to Lotzen's plan of campaign, and it proves conclusively his murderous purpose. I'd be very shy of information that points Book-ward, unless you know the informant; above everything, don't be fooled by the device of a rendezvous, or a tattling servant.”

”True enough; and yet I must not let slip any chance that might lead to the recovery of the Book; my equivocal position demands that it be found, both to vindicate Dehra's story and to justify my own claim to the Succession. Indeed, to my mind, I have no chance whatever unless Frederick's decree is produced. However, Lotzen won't use such h.o.a.ry artifices; he will have some simple little plot that will enmesh me by its very innocence. As a schemer against him I'm not even an 'also ran.'”

”And, therefore, my dear Armand,” said Courtney quickly, ”you must be prepared to cut the meshes when they close; an escort-a sword-a pistol-a steel vest-there's where you get your chance at him. Between the schemer and the ready fighter, I'll gamble on the fighter every time.... It's a pity you've lost Moore-you and he would make a famous pair. Bernheim is a good sort, but Moore is worth twenty of him in this business.”

The Archduke's eyes brightened-the Irishman and he together could make a merry fight-an altogether worth-while sort of fight-a fight that the Great Henry himself, in his younger days, would have sought with eager blade and joyful heart-a quick, sharp fight that gave the enemy no rest nor quarter-a thrust-a fall-a careless laugh-a dripping point wiped on a handkerchief. He saw it all, and his fingers tingled and his eyes went brighter still.

And across the table Courtney blew ring upon ring of smoke, and watched him curiously, until the intent look waned and pa.s.sed.

”Well,” he said, ”did you kill him?”

”Yes, I killed him ... and even wiped my sword-much ground have I to cast reproach at Lotzen.” He got up. ”I'm going; if I sit under your tutelage any longer, I'll be jabbling holes in the good citizens I meet on the Avenue.”

”With that stick?” Courtney asked.

”I forgot-the good citizen is safe to-night.”

”But you're not. Let me give you a sword or a revolver.” And when both were declined, he held up the paper: ”Danger imminent,” he warned.

”Bernheim will take care of me,” said Armand; ”and a light stick isn't a bad sort of rapier, if it is handled properly. I'm glad for this talk, and to have learned how very thin my veneer is.-I'm going back to the Epsau now, and teach Bernheim the scalp dance. Good night.”

”And trade him to the Regent for Moore, the first thing in the morning,”

Courtney urged.

The Archduke paused at the threshold:

”Well, may be I shall,” he said; ”I believe he is a bit more the savage.”

He faced about. ”As for you, my dear d.i.c.k, you're cut out for a typical missionary-you would have the natives killing one another within an hour after you landed.”

”Danger imminent!” called Courtney, and the door swung shut.

XI FIRST BLOOD

The Archduke knew where to find his Aide, so he waved aside the servant and went on to the billiard room.

”Don't mind me, boys,” he said, as they sprang up; ”go on with the deal-unless,” motioning toward Bernheim's big pile of chips, ”you want to be relieved of the beginner.”

”Your Highness is ready to go?” Bernheim asked.

Armand nodded. ”But that mustn't take you away; luck's with you, it's a crime to desert her-I know the way home.”

The Colonel pushed his winnings into the centre of the table.

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