The Colonel of the Red Huzzars Part 52

"I believe you," said I. "Judged by the way His Majesty and the Princess, and you have treated me, the heir of Hugo might never have lived beyond the Kingdom."

This brought another look.

"The Dalbergs don't do things by halves," he answered.

"So I have noticed, cousin. I only trust I can live up to it."

He laughed. "You promise very well, Armand, very well, indeed."

"I am glad," I answered.

When we reached Headquarters, I suggested that he come up to my office and smoke a cigar. I thought he would decline. But, there, I erred.

"Thanks," said he, "I'll join you as soon as I've registered," and he turned down the corridor toward the Adjutant General's office.

On my desk was a wire from the Princess. She and the King would reach Dornlitz the next morning and I was expected to lunch at the Palace. I dispatched an answer that would meet the Royal train en route, and thought of Lotzen with indifference--almost.

When he came, I was going through a batch of papers which had just been brought in for my signature.

"Don't let me disturb you," he said heartily. "Finish the miserable red tape."

I nodded.

He chose a cigar and, having lighted it, with the careful attention he seemed to give to the smallest matters, he sauntered to the window that overlooked the Avenue.

Presently, he glanced around at me.

I went on with my work.

Then he glanced again.

I signed the last of the papers, pushed them aside and arose.

"Mrs. Spencer is about to pa.s.s," he said.

"I trust so," said I. "I'm sure I've no desire for her to stop."

Then, suddenly, he frowned--and made a short bow.

"She had the impudence to speak to me," he said.

I smiled and made no comment. For the life of me, I could not determine if his surprise were natural or a.s.sumed.

He crossed to a front window and watched her out of sight.

"There is no discounting her beauty," he remarked.

I was silent.

He came over, and dropped into a chair on the other side of the table.

It was just where Mrs. Spencer had sat, and, so, a very fit place for him.

"She must be a most extraordinary woman," he observed.

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Yet, what I can't understand, is what she hopes to gain by masquerading, here, as your wife."

I looked at him and waited. He was steering into strange waters, it seemed to me.

"Now, if she had done it in Paris, or Vienna, or any place outside of Valeria," he went on, "one could see the temporary profit of it. But, to come to Dornlitz and dare it under your very nose!"--he flung up his hands. "She is a bit too much for me!"

I saw his drift, now. He wanted to know if I suspected him; and, to that end, was quite willing to match his wit against mine. His contempt for my discernment was not, especially, flattering; but, sometimes, it does no harm to be taken for a fool--if one is not. And I was conceited enough to consider myself the latter. Which, however, may only have proven that Lotzen was right.

"And for me, too, at present," I answered.

"At present?" he echoed, blowing a succession of smoke rings and watching them float away.

I nodded. "She will get tired of the game, presently, and quit."

"She has stuck to it rather persistently," he observed; "and crossed the seas to play it."

"Yes," said I, "she did just that; yet she is none the less liable to quit abruptly to-morrow."

That would interest him, I thought. It did.

"You are judging from experience?" he asked, rather quickly.

"I've known the lady for a few years," I laughed, "and I've yet to find her true either to herself or to the hand that paid her."

It was characteristic of the man that, at these last words, he made no quick glance at my face. Instead, he studied the end of his cigar.

When he did look at me, it was in the perfectly natural way of asking a question.

Then I got a start. He suddenly struck straight from the shoulder.

"By 'the hand that paid her,' you mean?" he asked--and now, his eyes were fairly drilling into mine.

I took on a look of surprise.

"What does it usually mean?" I answered, with a bit of a shrug.

He either had to appear to accept the inference in this answer or else ask me blankly if I meant that Mrs. Spencer was in his employ. He chose the former.

"It is very difficult to a.s.sociate such a beautiful woman with the _demi-monde_," he said.

"Yet, Saint Anthony would stand no chance with her."

He looked at me with an amused smile.