Part 48 (1/2)

”Here are two sealed orders,” she continued; ”immediately after dinner you will ride down to Porgia; there, not before, you will open the one addressed to yourself, and deliver the other to the Commanding Officer of the garrison. For the rest, the orders will speak for themselves.”

Once more, the martinet's hand went up.

”Yes, Your Highness,” he said; ”but how am I to go without getting leave from the Archduke?”

”I will get it for you-you need not say anything to him-just go--Ah!

there he is now-Armand,” said she, when he had greeted her, ”I want to borrow Colonel Bernheim for a little while after dinner, may I have him?”

”Take him,” said the Archduke, with a smile at his Aide; and when Bernheim had gone: ”but why don't you borrow me instead?”

”Because, sweetheart, one doesn't need to borrow what one has,” she answered, and gave him both her hands.

XXI IN THE DUKE'S LIBRARY

The Princess managed so well that by a little after eleven o'clock the card games were over, and she, laughingly, had escorted Armand to his own door and received his promise to retire at once.

Then she went to her apartment and dismissed all the attendants except her maid. To-night she must ride as a man, so she donned a close-fitting divided skirt, high boots, and her Blue Guard's jacket, and topped it with a long military overcoat that came almost to her spurs.

Colonel Moore met her at a side entrance, and they hurried across the courtyard and over the bridge to where, a little way down the avenue, were waiting De Coursey and Marsov, with Jessac and the horses. They had thought to send the old man in a carriage, but he would have none of it; so they let him have his way, when he a.s.sured them he could ride twice the distance without fatigue-and he proved it that night.

In calm persistence of purpose Dehra was a typical Dalberg; she had determined that the Archduke should not expose his life in Lotzen's castle, and so she was a.s.suming the risk, without the least hesitation; just as the same Dalberg spirit sent the Archduke to recover the Book, heedless of the peril entailed. And so now, after a word of inquiry as to the general arrangements and the time required to reach the postern gate, she made no further reference to the business in hand. Instead, she chatted with Moore as unconcernedly as though she rode for her pleasure, and not upon a desperate mission where death was likely waiting for them all.

There was no moon, but the stars burned with double brilliancy in the wonderful mountain heavens; the road lay fair before them; and far off to the front the lights of Lotzen Castle beckoned. And as they crossed the valley, the lights gradually grew fewer, until presently there was but one remaining, which Jessac said was the big lamp on the bridge in front of the gate-arch, and which always burnt until sunrise.

A little way from the Lotzen road they met Colonel Bernheim, alone. He bent forward in sharp scrutiny.

”Thank G.o.d, Moore, you persuaded her not to come!” he exclaimed, as they drew up.

The Princess' light laugh answered him, and he actually cried out in distressed disappointment, and forgot the eternal salute.

”I wasn't to be persuaded, Colonel,” said she. ”Is everything arranged?”

This time the salute came.

”The dispositions are made as Your Highness ordered,” he answered.

She thanked him, and he rode beside her to the cross-roads.

”I must leave you here.-Heaven keep you safe this night,” he ended, with broken voice.

She reined over close to him and held out her hand.

”My good Bernheim, nothing is going to happen to me,” she said; ”but if there should, it will be for you and Epping to seat the Archduke where he belongs, and to confound Lotzen and his satellites-promise me.”

The Colonel's face twitched, and his eyes glistened, and for a moment he bowed his head on his breast; then he leaned over and kissed her gauntlet.

”As G.o.d reigns, it shall be done, my mistress,” he said; ”and though I have to kill Lotzen with my own hand.”

Instead of taking the road to the Castle they continued up the valley a little way, to where a narrow brook tumbled noisily across the track, eager to reach the foaming Dreer. Here Jessac dismounted, and, leading his horse, turned upstream. There was no path, and the starlight availed nothing in the heavy timber, yet the old man never hesitated, winding his way among the trees and around the rocks as readily as though it were day. After half a mile, the ground began to ascend sharply; almost immediately he halted, and at his direction they turned the horses over to the orderlies, and followed him on foot.