The Puppet Crown Part 13

"I serve Ananias."

"Ananias?" A pause. "Ah, you are a diplomat?"

"How clever of you to guess."

"Yours is a careless country," observed the Veil.

"Careless?" mystified.

"Yes, to send forth her green and salad youth. Eh, bien! There are hopes for you. If you live you will grow old; you will become bald and reserved; you will not speak to strangers, to while away an idle hour; for permit me, Monsieur, who am wise, to tell you that it is a dangerous practice."

"And do I look so very young?"

"Your beard is that of a boy."

"David slew Goliath."

"At least you have a ready tongue," laughing.

"And you told me that I had been a soldier."

But to this she had nothing to say.

"I am older than you think, Mademoiselle of the Veil. I have been a soldier; I have seen hard service, too. Mine is no cus.h.i.+on sword. Youth?

'Tis a virtue, not a crime; and, besides, it is an excellent disguise."

For some time she remained pensive.

"You are thinking of something, Mademoiselle."

"Do you like adventure?"

"I subsist on it."

"You have been a soldier; you are, then, familiar with the use of arms?"

"They tell me so," modestly. What was coming?

"I have some influence. May I trust you?"

"On my honor," puzzled, yet eager.

"There may be a comic opera, as you call it. War is not so impossible as to be laughed at. The dove may fly away and the ravens come."

"Who in thunder might this woman be?" he thought.

"And," went on the Veil, "an extra saber might be used. Give me your address, in case I should find it necessary to send for you."

Now Maurice was a wary youth. Under ordinary circ.u.mstances he would have given a fict.i.tious address to this strange sybil with the prophecy of war; for he had accosted her only in the spirit of fun. But here was the key which he had been seeking, the key to all that had brought him to Bleiberg. Intrigue, adventure, or whatever it was, and to whatever end, he plunged into it. He drew out a card case, selected a card on which he wrote "Room 12, Continental," and pa.s.sed it over the table. She read it, and slipped it into her purse.

Maurice thought: "Who wouldn't join the army with such recruiting officers?"

While the pantomime took place, a man pushed by Maurice's chair and crossed over to the table recently occupied by him. He sat down, lit a short pipe, rested his feet on the lowest rung of the ladder-like railing, and contemplated the western hills, which by now were enveloped in moon mists. Neither Maurice nor his mysterious vis-a-vis remarked him. Indeed, his broad back afforded but small attraction. And if he puffed his pipe fiercely, n.o.body cared, since the breeze carried the smoke waterward.

After putting the card into her purse, Mademoiselle of the Veil's gaze once more wandered toward the entrance, and this time it grew fixed.

Maurice naturally followed it, and he saw a tall soldier in fatigue dress elbowing his way through the crush. Many moved aside for him; those in uniform saluted.

"Monsieur," came from behind the veil, "you may go now. I dismiss you.

If I have need of you I promise to send for you."

He stood up. "I thank you for the entertainment and the promise you extend. I shall be easily found," committing himself to nothing. "I suppose you are a person of importance in affairs."

"It is not unlikely. I see that you love adventure for its own sake, for you have not asked me if it be the duchy or the kingdom. Adieu, Monsieur," with a careless wave of the gray-gloved hand. "Adieu!"

He took his dismissal heroically and shot a final glance at the approaching soldier. His brows came together.

"Where," he murmured, "have I seen that picturesque countenance before?

Not in Europe; but where?" He caught the arm of a pa.s.sing gendarme. "Who is that gentleman in fatigue uniform, coming this way?"

"That, Monsieur," answered the gendarme in tones not unmixed with awe, "is Colonel Beauvais of the royal cuira.s.siers."

"Thanks.... Beauvais; I do not remember the name. Truly I have had experiences to-day. And for what house is Mademoiselle of the Veil?

Ravens? War? `Voici le sabre de mon pyre!'" and with a gay laugh he went his way.

Meanwhile Colonel Beauvais arrived at the table, tipped his hat to the Veil, who rose and laid a hand on his arm. He guided her through the pressing crowds.

"Ah, Madame," he said, "you are very brave to choose such a rendezvous."

"Danger is a tonic to the ill-spirited," was the reply.

"If aught should happen to you--"

"It was in accord with her wishes that I am here. She suffers from impatience; and I would risk much to satisfy her whims."

"So would I, Madame; even life." There was a tremor of pa.s.sion in his voice, but she appeared not to notice it. "Here is a nook out of the lights; we may talk here with safety."

"And what is the news?" she asked.

"This: The man remains still in obscurity. But he shall be found.

Listen," and his voice fell into a whisper.

"Austria?" Mademoiselle of the Veil pressed her hands together in excitement. "Is it true?"

"Did I not promise you? It is so true that the end is in sight.

Conspiracy is talked openly in the streets, in the cafes, everywhere.

The Osians will be sand in the face of a tidal wave. A word from me, and Kronau follows it. It all would be so easy were it not for the archbishop."

"The archbishop?" contemptuously.