'I have given my orders,' answered Sagan. 'The Guard must consider their reputation. We have had too many scandals already, and no one will thank you for dragging a fresh one into Revonde for public discussion.'

Sagan was amazed at his own moderation in arguing the question at all. He looked to see it have its due effect upon the Englishman. But Rallywood stood unmoved and stubborn beside the grave.

'We have murder here!' The words fell like an accusation.

Rallywood's eyes were alight now. It took little penetration to picture how Colendorp had met his death. Round the grave, Sagan's horse with its heavy smoking quarters trampled and fretted under the remorseless hand upon the curb. The Count could bear no more opposition. His fury overcame him. Roaring an oath he slashed at Rallywood with his riding whip.

'By St. Anthony, sir, you forget there is room in that grave for two,' he shouted. 'You try me too far—your infernal officiousness—go! It is useless to oppose my wishes here.' Which was obvious. The foresters, lithe and strong as panthers, waited only the orders of their master. They needed but a word, and would as lief have buried two dead men as one in the grave under the torn pines. You may find the same type in the mountains of Austria, where a poaching affray means a vendetta, and the game laws are framed on corresponding principles.

'I see I can do nothing now,' said Rallywood, remounting in his leisurely way. 'The Guard must deal with the affair.'

But Sagan had another word to say to him.

'And I also, Captain Rallywood, shall know how to deal with you. Do not forget that! Your conduct cannot be overlooked. You will find that in Maasau we are still able to get rid of those who cater for a cheap notoriety. We shall know how to deal with you! I am the colonel of the Guard. Are you aware that it is in my power to break you? Aye, like that!' he smashed his riding-whip across his knee as he spoke, and flinging away the pieces, he added, 'And by the powers above us, I will!'

Rallywood saluted and rode away. At once the foresters fell to work feverishly to fill in the earth over Colendorp's body.

Once more through the falling snow Rallywood looked back. Sagan's great horse stood across the low mound of the finished grave.



CHAPTER XXI.

LOVE'S BEGGAR.

A threat from Count Simon of Sagan was not to be lightly regarded at any time, but within the boundaries of his own estates it appreciably discounted the chances of life. Therefore Rallywood, instead of returning to the Castle, headed for the block-house by the Ford. The incident which had just taken place probably meant the closing of his career in the army of Maasau. Personal power survived in its full plenitude in the little state, which had never made any pretence of setting up a representative government; the Maasaun people were as mute as they had been in the dark ages and appeared content to remain so.

The future which lay before Rallywood on that winter evening was not enlivening. Less than three months ago he would have been half amused at such a conclusion to his military life as offering an answer to a perplexed question. But since then much had happened. That ill-luck should overtake him when hope was at its keenest, and when his relations both with the Guard and the Duke had reached a promising point, struck him hard. If he left the Guard he must also leave Maasau. He had told himself a hundred times that the daughter of the Chancellor was far beyond his winning, yet the certainty of losing her, which this last development of events involved, was the worst blow of all. To stare an empty future in the face is like looking into expressionless eyes where no soul can ever come.

He little guessed how close upon him were the critical moments of life, or how much of emotion and difficulty and strenuous decision were to be crowded into the next few days. A whirlpool of events was drawing him to its raging centre. The death and the burial of Colendorp, Sagan's resentment and his ruthless scheming were all eddies of circumstance circling inward and carrying him with them to a definite issue.

As he rode on the weather grew rapidly worse, and it soon became impossible to see more than a few yards ahead. The night was settling down thick with falling snow, so that Rallywood could only pull up and listen when a faint noise, that might have been a woman's scream, came to him through the storm. He shouted in return but there was no answer. Then out of the gray curtain a sleigh with two maddened horses dashed across his path and was as suddenly lost to sight. Rallywood had only time to see a woman clinging to the driver's empty seat and clutching desperately at the dangling reins.

They passed like a vision, noiseless, swift, and dim, and although Rallywood followed quickly, he could not find them. The gloom and the snow had obliterated all trace of the sleigh, and at last Rallywood himself, well as he knew the country, became bewildered; but luckily the horse he rode was a charger he had had with him on the Frontier. He left it to choose its own direction, yet it was long before a blur of light which he knew to be the open doorway of the block-house grew out on the shifting darkness.

Within, the men of the patrol were standing in a group talking eagerly. Flinging himself from his horse, Rallywood entered the house just as a young cavalry officer came out from the inner room, and, recognising Rallywood, advanced hurriedly to meet him.

'I say, who do you think we have in there?' he said excitedly.

'Tell me afterwards,' interrupted Rallywood; 'I met a runaway sleigh——'

'They were the horses from the Castle,' interrupted the young man with a nervous laugh. 'Mademoiselle Selpdorf managed to get hold of the reins after a bit, otherwise——' he snapped his fingers significantly.

'Then she—the lady is safe?'

'Two of them, my dear friend! One is the handsomest girl in Maasau, and the other is Madame de Sagan herself! And, by Jove! she's an infernally pretty woman too. We're in luck, Rallywood! Have you come to look for them?'

Rallywood hesitated before he replied.

'No, thanks. I must get back to Revonde by the first train, so I will ride on with the next patrol to the station. Are they hurt?' he nodded towards the inner room.

'No, but how they escaped the deuce only knows! Madame de Sagan was insensible when we found them.' He dropped his voice. 'By the way, she has been saying some queer things! She declares the driver lashed up the horses and purposely threw himself off the sleigh when they were on the slope of the pine wood just above the Ingern precipice. She swears he meant to kill them!'

'She was frightened. That's all.'

'It was about a certainty they'd be dashed to pieces. And look here——' the young fellow looked oddly at Rallywood, 'she hinted that the Count——'

'Nonsense!' Rallywood forced a laugh. 'She was badly frightened, I tell you.'

'I'll take my oath there's something in it though! She refuses to let us take her back to the Castle to-night.'

'What have you given them—tea or anything?'

'Faith, no! I made them each take a nip of bizutte—far better, too. But we'll have some tea made now if you think they would like it.'

'Of course. It will give them something to do. By the way, you might as well ask them if they would see me.'

On second thought and in view of the Countess's refusal to go back to Sagan, he felt he must offer his assistance.

'Yes, ask them if they will see me now,' he continued, looking at his watch; 'I have not much time to spare.'

The next moment Isolde's high sweet voice could be heard distinctly through the open door.

'Captain Rallywood! Pray tell him we should like to see him.'

Madame de Sagan was lying on a narrow camp bed supported by wraps and pillows, a brilliant red spot on each cheek, and her eyes darker than ordinary under the influence of the alternate fright and stimulation of the last two hours. She waited till the door was shut, then she put out both hands to Rallywood.

'Thank Heaven, we are safe and together again, Jack! Come here! I want to know that you are alive and this is not all a dream,' she began impulsively, yet behind the impulse lay a calculated design. She owed her life to Valerie's courage, but that weighed as nothing in comparison with the knowledge that in some indefinite manner the girl stood between Rallywood and herself, that Rallywood for some reason held Valerie in special regard.

Rallywood bowed, still standing by the door.

'Thank Heaven you are safe, Madame,' he said. 'I saw you somewhere this side of the pine woods, but lost you in the mist.'

'Oh, I did not see you! I saw nothing after that murderer leaped off. I had a horrible instant during which I imagined myself swinging between the gorge and the sky—after that I knew no more!' exclaimed Isolde, a sort of complacency mixing with her agitation. 'They tell me that Valerie was very brave and that she saved our lives, but for me these heroisms are impossible!'

She glanced at Rallywood, secure in his approval, but he had turned to Valerie, who was sitting in a low wooden chair by the stove with her back to the room.

'It was magnificent, Mademoiselle!' he exclaimed.

Valerie shivered.

'There was nothing at all magnificent about it,' she said coldly. 'Self-preservation drives one to do what one can; it is only by chance that one happens to do the right thing.'

Isolde shrugged her shoulders and made a little grimace at Rallywood.

'Do not heed her, Jack. People are always very pleased with themselves for doing what other people call magnificent. Valerie is cross. Take this chair by me; I have a very serious quarrel with you.'

All the terror and peril of that dreadful drive had passed from Madame de Sagan's facile mind. The little rivalries and coquetries of everyday life occupied her as fully as if her lot contained no troublous outlook. In this conjunction vanity will often do for a woman what work does for a man. As for Isolde, the small promptings of a wounded vanity at once absorbed her.

Very unwillingly Rallywood obeyed. Between those narrow walls one was within hand-reach of everything in the room, so that although he was beside the Countess he was not a yard from Mademoiselle Selpdorf.

'So you would not come to me last night?' began Isolde abruptly. 'You cannot be made to understand that we Maasauns hold human life of very little account. It is stupid of you, Jack, but you will be forced to believe it now. Do you know that the driver of the sleigh——'

The attempt at assassination was horrible enough in itself, but from her lips wearing their strange innocent smile he felt he could not endure the story.

'I have heard of it,' he interposed hastily; 'the Lieutenant told me. But——'

Isolde leant upon her elbow to look into his face.

'What! You don't believe even now that Simon is trying to rid himself of me? Valerie, speak! You too refused to believe me last night. What do you say now?'

'It may have been an accident,' replied Valerie with a tired movement.

'Absurd! But whatever you choose to say, I will not go back to the Castle! Revonde is perhaps safe——'

'My father is there, and you will be safe,' said Valerie in a tone of quiet certainty.

Isolde laughed scornfully. 'I don't know that; for after all Sagan is the most powerful man in the state!' she cried, with that perverse pride in her husband that his daring personality seemed to develop in all his dependents.

As Valerie made no reply, she harked back to her former subject. 'I was in danger last night, Jack, yet you would not come to my help. What excuse can a man offer for such a thing?' her voice and lips had grown tender in addressing him.

'The Duke, Madame.'

'That for the old Duke!' with a charming gesture of emptying both her little hands. 'What is he in comparison with me? Jack, you are but a poor lover after all!'

Rallywood began to see that some motive underlay Isolde's wild talk. The kind eyes with which he had been watching her changed.

'It is very true,' he said.

'Jack, Jack, how am I to forgive you?' she swept on. 'Yet you remember when I was a firefly at the palace ball, I told you that like a firefly my life would be short and merry. My prophecy is coming true.'

An almost imperceptible alteration in the pose of the quiet figure by the open stove was not lost upon Madame de Sagan.

The sweet treble voice resumed:

'You took a firefly from my fan and told me that one always wanted the beautiful things to live for ever. Jack, you promised to be my friend that night. You have not forgotten?'

'I have not forgotten.'

'And the firefly? Have you kept that as carelessly as you have kept your promise? Where is your cigarette-case? Ah!' a pause, then a cry of pleasure. 'Valerie, come here! He dropped it into his cigarette-case and it is here still! If you had only reminded him of that——'

Valerie stood up cold and proud, and exceedingly pale.

'I forgot.'

'It does not matter now,' Isolde replied, taking the glittering atom from its hiding-place and holding it up on her slender finger to catch the light, 'since we have met after all. You meant to fail, Valerie! Were you not ashamed to deceive me last night—even last night when you saw I was desperate, and oh, so horribly afraid?'

Rallywood, absorbed in other thoughts, gathered very little of what was being said. After avoiding Isolde of Sagan with more or less success on the Frontier, he had, since his stay in Revonde, yielded in an odd reserved way to her infatuation for him, partly out of a desire to secure meetings with Mademoiselle Selpdorf, partly from a man's stupid helplessness under such circumstances. The more chivalrous the man the more helpless very often. But all this was entirely and for ever unexplainable to Mademoiselle Selpdorf. He drew a deep breath. There was nothing for it but to accept the situation.

'We both owe a debt to Mademoiselle Selpdorf for carrying the message,' he said.

'You are mistaken,' said Valerie, and he winced under the contempt of her voice. 'I should never have stooped to carry it had I not had a far different object in view.'

Isolde laughed to a shrill echo. Valerie Selpdorf's haughty spirit was about to be humbled. She dimly felt why Rallywood held the girl to be far above the level of ordinary womanhood—a cold and unattainable star. But she should be dragged down from the heights before his eyes.

'I was not so blind as you supposed,' Isolde said aloud, pointing an accusing finger at Valerie. 'I knew why you went. Shall I tell you, Jack?'

Rallywood looked up quickly. Colendorp naturally recurred to his mind.

'You could not have known,' Valerie answered.

'But I did, though!' Isolde went on. 'Listen to me, Jack. Do you know why she undertook my message, and why she forgot its most important point? My life has come to-night to a crisis; I will not spare those who have been cruel to me!' Isolde was trembling with excitement as she leant forward, one hand holding by the table that stood between her and Valerie, the other clenched in the soft fur of the rug on her knees. 'Why? Oh, men are so simple! They believe a woman to be pure and true if she but knows how to temper her coquetries with a pretence of reserve. Jack, Valerie has been false to me and to you because she is jealous of me, and—because she herself loves you!'

Rallywood rose slowly. 'Hush, Madame!'

Valerie stood for one instant scarlet from neck to brow, then the blood ebbed and left her of a curious deadly pallor like one who has a mortal wound, but she still faced them.

'Wait, Jack. You shall hear the end now that we have gone so far.' Isolde laughed again. She was so sure of her lover. 'It is well for the truth to come out sometimes, you know. Yes, Valerie Selpdorf, the proud, unapproachable Valerie, loves a captain of the Guard, who——'

Rallywood strode across in front of her. After such words of outrage, his very nearness to Mademoiselle Selpdorf seemed in itself an insult. With his back to the door he stopped and took up the last unfinished sentence.

'You have made a strange mistake, Madame,' he said in a low voice but very clearly. 'On the contrary, it is the captain of the Guard who has loved Mademoiselle Selpdorf, and even dared to tell her so, although she had shown him that she regarded him with scorn and dislike. I hope I may be forgiven for acknowledging this now, Mademoiselle. And let me say one thing more, that though I have no hope, though I am one of Love's beggars, the greatest honour of my life will be that I have loved such a woman!'

The door closed behind him. Isolde sat stupified at the result of her stratagem, the stratagem by which she had intended to humble Valerie in the most cruel way a woman can be humbled.

Valerie, sinking down into her chair, burst into an uncontrollable flood of tears. The secret of her heart, which she had denied to herself, sprang up at Isolde's words and confronted her, filling her world's horizon.

'Well,' said Isolde after a long pause, '"We love but while we may." I wish you joy of his constancy. He loved me yesterday.'

Valerie raised her head with the old haughty gesture.

'As for him, Isolde, you compelled him to say it! But he does not—love me!' Her voice gathered strength. 'As for me, you shall know the whole truth; you are right—I love him, for he is a most noble gentleman!'



CHAPTER XXII.

IN LOVE WITH HONOUR.

Revonde was drenched in a sudden and depressing thaw. From her crowned ridges down to the swollen river rushing at her feet, she stood shivering in a robe of clinging mist; yet the day was warm with the raw deceptive closeness that chills to the bone and awakens the latent germs of death.

From the Hotel du Chancelier the winter view over the bright, beautiful city, glittering only yesterday in its winter bedizenment of frost and snow, was changed. Streams of dirty water poured from the roofs, and in the streets the miry snow sluiced slowly downhill or stuck on passing boot-heels in treacherous pads.

A thaw is demoralising; its penetrative power strikes deeper than physical malaise. With the average man or woman it damps the spirits, unstrings the will, and slackens the mental and moral fibre until resistance of any kind becomes an effort. M. Selpdorf was in the habit of saying that the rope by which the world swings is made up of the strands of the days rather than of the fathoms of the years. He held that no detail was too insignificant to be used as a factor in the conduct of affairs; thus he habitually took everyday trifles into account, since small items are apt to add up handsomely in the final figure of any calculation. A man who says 'No' to-day may be won to consent to-morrow under altered conditions of weather and diet. Therefore the Chancellor, who had avoided his daughter since her return, made choice of a dismal morning to bring his influence to bear upon her. He relied a good deal upon Valerie's affection for himself, which was strong and single-hearted. Moreover, he had trained her to the masculine habit of taking a broad view, a bird's-eye view, of the whole of a given subject, instead of turning the microscope of her emotions on any one point, after the manner of women.

Baron von Elmur was no longer young, but he was a personage and a figure in the political world. By marrying him Valerie would place herself in a position where her cleverness, her tact, and her beauty would be offered a wide and splendid field of activity. Besides, so Selpdorf imagined, she had no more favoured suitor.

Valerie was sweet and proud and sensitive; her father gave her credit for the two first qualities, but it probably would not have struck him to use that last term in describing her. He forgot that, in spite of any amount of masculine training, a woman remains always a woman at heart. Had Valerie not met Rallywood, she might never have known as much about herself as she discovered during her visit to Sagan; as matters stood, however, the weak point in M. Selpdorf's theory was already under strain. The Chancellor usually breakfasted alone with his daughter. She was at once spirited and adaptable—adaptable enough to fall in with a man's moods, and spirited enough to hold independent opinions, an ideal combination in a comrade. Servants were rigorously excluded from the room during the meal, that father and daughter might talk freely together.

'I have hardly seen you since you came back, Valerie. I have missed you,' Selpdorf said as he turned away from the table and lit a cigarette. 'I am hurried to-day, yet I must speak to you on a subject that cannot be put off. One incident of your stay at the Castle has been constantly in my mind.'

'Yes, father.'

The unconcern of her voice struck Selpdorf. Things were either about to go unexpectedly well or else very badly.

'Baron von Elmur tells me you yielded to my advice and his wishes. In fact, you consented to an engagement.'

'Oh, yes, for the time being.'

'My dear girl,' he returned gravely, 'it has been publicly announced. It was announced the same evening, I understand.'

Valerie looked at him with a vague alarm in her eyes.

'Only by an unlucky accident,' she replied. 'It was never intended to be announced. Baron von Elmur assured me of that.'

'I am sure von Elmur's intentions were most generous, but the fact remains that it was made public. Valerie, you must be aware of his feelings towards you?'

Valerie came round the table and sat down beside her father, slipping her hand caressingly through his arm.

Selpdorf smiled down at her.

'Valerie, I must ask you to consider not only your own share in this question, but von Elmur's. It compromises Elmur no less than it compromises you.'

'I cannot carry out the engagement,' said the girl quietly.

M. Selpdorf threw a great deal of surprise and disappointment into his countenance.

'I did not know you were so greatly prejudiced against him. But, Valerie, we are honourable people, you and I, and we cannot allow Baron von Elmur to suffer because we unluckily misunderstood one another.'

Valerie grew very still, her fingers pressed upon her father's arm.

'Nothing succeeds like success, and up to the present time von Elmur has succeeded,' he went on. 'But a failure in a love affair places a man in an absurd position, and to be laughed at means loss of prestige. Wherever he is known the story will follow him. He has a brilliant future before him, a future that it might be the pride of any woman to share. I think, therefore, you will hesitate before you injure him by giving way to a girlish and perhaps passing dislike.'

'Father, I cannot!'

Valerie's voice was always low pitched and had the mellow sweetness peculiar to a contralto. But Selpdorf recognised a note in it now which showed him that his wishes were very far from fulfilment. She was loyal and steadfast, qualities that up to the present the Chancellor had found very admirable in his daughter. It is a rare pleasure for men of his type to be able to trust their womankind. In the case of his motherless girl, the Chancellor had enjoyed this pleasure to the full. To-day for the first time he found himself face to face with the less convenient side of the girl's character. She was an eminently reasonable person, and though she could stick to her point she never did so without cause. Therefore Elmur's affair promised to be awkward.

'What are your reasons?' he asked, after a pause.

'I do not—like Baron von Elmur.'

'That is unfortunate, but your dislike may be overcome when you know him better.'

'Oh, no!—never!'

'Why not?'

'Is it possible to explain a dislike?' asked Valerie rather petulantly.

'No, perhaps not—for a woman,' said Selpdorf reflectively, 'but since there is no other——' he waited, then putting his forefinger under his chin, he raised her face and looked into it. 'Unless indeed you prefer someone——'

Her eyes, which met his with the clear direct glance they had not inherited from himself, and her pale gravity dismayed him.

'Speak, my dear child. This is a matter very near my heart,' he said quietly.

A tremulous smile came to Valerie's lips.

'And near mine—or I should not oppose you, father.'

Selpdorf pushed her away from him with a gentle hand.

'You don't know what you are doing,' he said shortly, and gazed out with undisguised chagrin into the mists that overhung Revonde. Presently he stood up.

'Well, well; it only goes to prove that the human element is a variable quantity,' he remarked.

'Am I only a human element in your plans? Am I no more than that to you?' She put her hands upon his shoulder.

M. Selpdorf drew her nearer and kissed her forehead.

'You know what you are to me, Valerie. I had hoped to join our interests in all things, but——' he turned to the door.

'Father!' the girl cried, 'don't leave me like this. You don't understand. I only knew by chance. He is too noble to——'

'Ah!' Selpdorf recollected Elmur's phrase, 'There is always the picturesque captain of the Guard.' He paused before speaking. 'Then this noble individual does not propose to take my daughter from me altogether—only to entangle her in a sentimental embarrassment?'

'He made no claim upon me. He was compelled to—to speak—for my sake!'

'I will not ask for further confidences to-day, Valerie. But think over the whole of our conversation. I can trust you to be just, even to Baron von Elmur.'

M. Selpdorf knew that the longer an idea is brooded over, the harder it becomes to part company with it. Therefore the forenoon was yet young when von Elmur drove up to the Hotel du Chancelier in reply to a summons. The German plot was not yet at an end. By judicious manipulation, Selpdorf had gleaned a dim knowledge of Counsellor's errand from the Duke, who was as wax in his supple hands. Counsellor's return had already become one day overdue, and Selpdorf took advantage of the delay to infuse doubts and troubled surmises into the Duke's wavering mind.

He had recovered in some measure the royal confidence, and felt almost certain that if the English proposals could be sufficiently delayed as to seem to hang fire, he might still be able to persuade his master to enter into some provisional arrangement with Germany.

'You have not any definite news for me, after all,' Elmur remarked at the end of ten minutes. 'I begin to believe the Count's declaration that his Highness can only be driven into a reasonable treaty with us by——' he stopped and sketched rapidly on the paper before him, 'by—in fact—the flat of the sword, shall we say?'

Selpdorf turned a look on his companion.

'Could you trust Count Simon to put any man, and most of all the one upon whose property he has a reversionary claim, in fear of death? And further trust him not to put the threat into execution if provoked by failure?'

Elmur shrugged his shoulders.

'We should have Duke Simon to deal with in that case, instead of Duke Gustave.'

M. Selpdorf's round forehead wrinkled slightly. He was apprehensive of this new temper in Elmur. The Chancellor was too clever to be quite honest, and too honest to be quite unflinching. A man, in fact, a little weaker and a little stronger than his fellows. 'Then the Count's methods still commend themselves to you, the miscarriage of the plan of Sagan notwithstanding?' he asked with an invidious smile.

'If his Highness can be brought into a complacent frame of mind as regards our project to-day, and before the English proposals are laid before him, I think we shall not need the methods of the Count,' Elmur answered. 'Count Simon has undertaken to help us on the Frontier. Major Counsellor will be detained under some pretext at Kofn Ford block-house, and later you, Monsieur, who have so consummate a skill in covering the mistakes of other people, will set this mistake right by a graceful apology. The fat Major will arrive in Revonde behind time—that is all. In the meanwhile, his despatches will be forwarded to you if you will select a safe person to meet the Count's messenger beyond the river. Later you can return them to Major Counsellor and score a point by the act.'

Selpdorf made no comment, but changed the subject. 'I have had a little talk with my daughter.'

Elmur laid down his pen and his impassive air became more marked than ever.

'Am I then to have the pleasure of an interview with Mademoiselle to-day?' he inquired. 'I hope she exonerates me from any blame in connection with the announcement made at Sagan?'

'Entirely. But she is inclined to insist that her consent was conditional—no more.'

'I only desire the opportunity of assuring her of my entire devotion,' said Elmur.

'I do not fancy that she wrongs you, my dear Baron, by doubting that.'

'There is then a difficulty on the part of Mademoiselle? It is unfortunate.'

'It can be overcome. She is still very young, and her imagination has been touched. The Englishman, Captain Rallywood, has, as you once remarked the knack of making himself picturesque, which appeals in fact to the imagination. I am myself sensible of something of the kind when dealing with him. Valerie imagines him to be quixotic.'

'Has Mademoiselle said this?' Elmur was stiffening at every sentence. Circumstances and not liking had put these two men on the same side, and Selpdorf repaid Elmur's sneers at the helplessness of Maasau with sympathy for Elmur's position as a lover. No man likes to be pitied in his love affairs.

'No, no, my good friend, no name was mentioned. It may be more convenient that I should never know it.'

'Then you think she may be persuaded to alter her decision with regard to me?'

'I am certain of it.'

'And what do you suggest shall be done with my—rival?' asked the German with a sinister inflection of the voice.

'We must break him.'

'Will it not be possible to work in this small affair with Counsellor's detention? Send Captain Rallywood to Kofn Ford to undertake the custody of Major Counsellor. Of course, it will not be necessary for you to mention the name of the person about whom your stupid Frontier officials are to make so convenient a mistake. When Rallywood discovers the identity of his prisoner, I fancy his honour will find the weight of temptation put upon it too great. He also is in the English plot, remember, and he will co-operate with his countryman. He will allow Counsellor to escape. But by that time the Duke must have closed with another ally.'

Selpdorf comprehended that the German was playing his own game in a double sense. He was, in fact, serving his own private interests and also hustling Selpdorf along towards the German goal.

'Then we shall have a court-martial,' said the Chancellor. 'Disgrace will be more effectual than death itself in this case.'

'Disgrace? ah, yes! But I know what would happen to Captain Rallywood in my country.' Elmur's eyes had a gleam in them.

'I am not so well informed. Our State is more elastic in its laws than yours. I cannot foresee what will happen to him in mine!' replied Selpdorf smiling.

'There is but one thing that could happen to him under military law in any country. He will be shot!' said Elmur pleasantly, then added with a sudden uncontrolled irritation, 'And that too is picturesque.'

The Chancellor spread out his hands.

'What will you, my dear Baron? It is also conclusive. Besides, we shall have gained our point. The fellow's breach of faith is our point. Valerie will be disillusioned; for recollect, I pray you, that Valerie is in love with honour.'



CHAPTER XXIII.

HOW RALLYWOOD HAD HIS ORDERS.

Unziar had already departed to the Frontier on a secret errand when Rallywood started for the Chancellerie through the slush and fog. It was yet early in the afternoon, and an hour when the Duke sometimes drove out. As Rallywood trotted along the embankment by the river, he saw the outriders of the Duke's carriage coming towards him.

Gustave of Maasau happened to be alone, and, to indulge the humour of the moment, he beckoned the young man to the side of the carriage and spoke a few words to him. He took a pleasure in the Englishman's frank readiness.

'I have to thank you for your energy in the matter of Colendorp,' he began. 'We have, however, decided to leave the whole affair in abeyance for the present. So M. Selpdorf has sent for you. What for?' he added with the curiosity of an idle man.

'I do not know, sire.'

'Now I remember, he did mention something about—well, well, we have worse enemies in the State than the Chancellor,' he wandered on, for he had had an interview during the morning with Selpdorf, and was more than half persuaded to place himself once more unreservedly under that able direction. For Selpdorf had almost succeeded in lulling his suspicions, and in luring him back to the old comfortable habit of believing in a false peace. He half regretted the doubts he had lately entertained of his Prime Minister, and was weakly willing to disabuse the Englishman's mind of prejudice. He did not know that Rallywood was quite unaware of Selpdorf's connection with the Sagan plot. 'The excellent Selpdorf is unsparing of his agents,' went on the Duke in vague connection, 'but he is also unsparing of himself. Therefore see that you obey him loyally. For me, he does what he wills with me.' He laughed and raised his hand by way of dismissal.

Rallywood went on wondering what the Duke meant to convey by this praise of his great Minister and in fact set many constructions on the empty words.

Selpdorf received him with an air of gravity, almost of restraint, entirely unlike the debonnair interest he had shown in him on the occasion of their last interview.

'I have sent for you, Captain Rallywood,' he said after a moment's consideration, 'to entrust to you a very delicate mission.'

He ceased and waited for some response. He was standing opposite to Rallywood on a white fur rug. The upstanding corners of his moustache, his upright carriage, and the ineffaceable mark left upon him by his short term of military service—for conscription obtains in Maasau—had their effect upon Rallywood. He picked out the soldier from the chancellor and saluted in silence.

Selpdorf smiled. Yet he wished the man had spoken! so much may be deduced from a tone of voice. Did he guess how much Selpdorf knew of his relations with Valerie? But there was nothing to be gathered from that rigid front.

'Before I give you any information, I must ask you first to say whether you will serve his Highness or not?'

'I have taken the oath, your excellency.'

'Yes,' the Chancellor said dubiously, 'and an oath goes a long way but sometimes not all the way. Has not some writer said that it is the man that makes the oath believed, not the oath the man?'

'I have taken the soldier's oath,' repeated Rallywood.

But he had no protestation of fidelity to offer. It rested with Selpdorf to choose the right man for his mission.

If personal inclination had had any part in the Chancellor's plan of life, it is certain he would have liked Rallywood. As it was, in trusting he distrusted him. Rallywood could be relied on to follow a straight path, he knew, but if it swerved from honour—what then?

'Also I must remind you that a soldier should see no farther than the point of his sword, and hear no more than his orders. In short, under many circumstances he has no use for an independent judgment. He must leave that to those whom he is pledged to obey and with whom rests the ultimate responsibility. A soldier's single duty is blind obedience.'

Rallywood bowed and continued to await his orders in silence.

'That is well. I am about to send you to Kofn Ford, where you will meet the midnight mail from the Frontier. At the foot of the mountain incline, about half-way between the stations, the train will be stopped and a person placed in your custody. You will take this person back with you to the Ford block-house and keep him there until you receive orders to bring him into Revonde. I especially charge you that no violence is to be used, but he is not to be permitted to escape. The importance of the duty which is entrusted to you cannot be too highly estimated.'

This then was what the Duke meant. Rallywood was to place himself unreservedly at the disposal of M. Selpdorf. Yet the preamble troubled him. It seemed to be assumed that he might be tempted to evade his orders.

'I am to start at once, your Excellency?'

'In half an hour.' Selpdorf's face cleared, something of his former geniality returned to him. 'To-night, Captain Rallywood, the Duke has need of a man. There are others I might have sent whose claims are greater than yours, but you are my nominee to the ranks of the Guard, and I would justify my choice. His Highness also is inclined to favour you.'

Selpdorf contemplated Rallywood kindly, as if prepared to be interested in his answer. He was trying to draw something from the man, but Rallywood only stood straighter and hugged his wooden silence closer. Any reply he could make would give the advantage to Selpdorf. For the present he himself held it. It is often so. The man who speaks ten words has an advantage over the man who speaks a hundred.

'I thank your Excellency,' he replied.

'There is,' Selpdorf began again meditatively, as if permitting himself the luxury of a little frankness before a trusted adherent, 'an end to everything and a beginning. The line drawn between the new and the old is never defined; the two overlap. We may regret the old, but since the new is irresistible, the wise make the best of it.' He looked up with an alert interest. 'In your own case, Captain Rallywood, you were not long ago at the dividing line yourself; how has the new life treated you?'

'Well!' said Rallywood as if flinging back a challenge.

The Chancellor's round eyes met his.

'Ah, I thought it would be so! You were half inclined that night to let fortune go by you. You must mount her, man, not lead her by the bridle.'

Then Rallywood broke silence.

'I doubt, your Excellency, if she will carry me where I want to go, in spite of hard riding,' he said.

'That will depend upon yourself, I imagine. Good-day, Captain.'



CHAPTER XXIV.

ON THE FRONTIER.

The evening train was almost due.

Upon the rise of a bare and windy ridge Rallywood sat on horseback waiting. Man and horse seemed to be the only living things between the horizons. From his point of vantage he looked out over the dim, limitless marshes, north, south and west, and although the growing darkness rendered the few features of the landscape even less distinguishable than usual, his practiced eye passed from point to point readily, for the flat map before him had been etched in upon his memory by the slow-graving stylus of use.

The night promised to be clear and starlit, for the tsa had risen to a gale, and a sudden frost succeeding the thaw had already thrust its iron fingers deep into the land. The cold was intense, and a raw wind, that had blown across a continent and a sea, came down obliquely upon Rallywood through a dip in the mountains. On one side the lines of the railway track ran up a curving incline into the Kofn Hills, where, five miles away at the bleak Frontier station, officials, imposingly uniformed, parade the platforms, examine the baggage, and demand passports in a manner calculated to impress the traveller with an idea of the immense resources of the State of Maasau. That is one part of their duties. The other is slavish obedience. 'Do what you are ordered, and the result will look after itself.' Such is the creed. The first lesson taught them is that they must not hesitate, and they learn it thoroughly. Westwards the line slipped away into the sweep of low ground towards Alfau, the first stoppage on the way to Revonde.

Rallywood drew his riding-cloak around him and settled down squarely into the saddle. The desolate plains with the crying wind held the loneliness of the damned. Occasionally a wolf howled in the distance, or a wandering snipe cried as it lost itself among the stiffening reeds about the swampy levels, and through all he could hear the hoarse roar of the Kofn in flood, as it rushed down from its rocky bed, swollen with the melted snows of yesterday. Another interval passed while the gray outlook changed to black. Then a red light appeared as it were over the edge of the world. Its coming afforded a certain break in the naked whimpering solitude of the plain.

Slowly it crept down the incline, for the engines of Maasau, like Belgian pistols, are not made for rough usage. Rallywood rode forward to meet it, the tufts of grass crackling under his horse's feet. But instead of slackening pace the chain of lighted carriages swept past him, and, gathering speed, wound away into the desolate night.

Rallywood looked after it with a sense of blankness. The Chancellor's exordium and the Duke's remarks had rather primed him to a state of expectation, and he felt as if he had been balked of he knew not what. The green light contracted and died away into the gloom; then discontent mastered him. In his restless mood he had grasped at the situation, which had promised a stirring of the blood, but the train passed and thrust him back with a hand that seemed almost palpable in the staleness of ordinary life. When he left the Frontier he had left behind him the old content, the humorous adaptability to circumstances which had once been a main element of his character.

Turning his horse's head due west he rode slowly beside the track, where the metals had begun to gleam under the stars, and the wind drove behind him as if driving him out into the waste. He rode on for five minutes. Then he pulled up and listened. Through the whistling of the tsa and the dull roar of the river, he fancied he had detected some other sound.

Puzzled, he turned and rode back at a hand-gallop in the teeth of the wind. As he rode, the noise became more distinct, and presently out of the night something black and bulky came jolting painfully and slowly down the slope of the railway track.

As Rallywood drew rein alongside, he saw it was a single carriage, unlighted and solitary, rolling aimlessly on towards the level ground through the gloom.

Gradually the pace slackened, and at last with a rheumatic jerk backwards and forwards it came to a standstill. By this time also Rallywood had perceived that it occupied the further set of rails, on which the outgoing trains from Revonde travelled. And already the night mail could not be far away.

He dropped from his saddle and in a second was feeling for his matches, while the horse fell to sniffing half-heartedly at the meagre herbage.

Rallywood mounted the steps of the carriage, for the platforms in Maasau are very high, and turned the handle. Then, bending forward, he peered into the interior, but through the dusk the seats seemed empty. Rallywood stepped inside and lit a match. It sputtered in the frosty air and flickered for a second from the route-maps under the musty racks to the cushioned seats, and so downwards to a figure heaped on the floor-rug by the opposite door.

This wandering carriage had then one occupant. Also he gave signs of life, for he grunted feebly in the dark as the match went out.

Rallywood felt for the lamp above his head, for in Maasau the trains are lighted by oil lanterns let in over the doors. Finding it, he broke the glass with the butt of his revolver and lit the wick; then he turned for a closer examination of the man who had come to him in so strange a manner. But the manner pointed to the fact that this must be the prisoner he was told to hold at Kofn Ford until to-morrow. Politics are apt to work out to curious issues in continental railways. Such things have happened many times, though they are not often noised abroad. The man lay with one arm thrown across the seat and his face buried in it. He was a big man, and a fringe of white hair showed under the back of his travelling cap above a crease of fleshy neck.

'Counsellor!'

For an instant Rallywood turned sick and his head felt light. He remembered feeling the same sensation years before, when a heavy opponent sat abruptly down on his chest in a football scrimmage. His hands shook as he lifted the inert figure on to the cushions and scanned the face, sticky and disfigured with blood. After forcing some brandy from his flask down Counsellor's throat and unloosing his collar, Rallywood opened the window wide to let the cold air blow in upon him, and fired two shots from his revolver in rapid succession out into the night. They must have help, for the down mail was already at Alfau.

By this time, Counsellor, grunting and swearing, had got himself up on his elbow and stared at the young man with vacant eyes.

'Where the deuce have I got to? Is that you, John? By heaven, I remember!' His fingers went groping weakly to his breast, then with a groan he struggled to his feet. 'The ruffians have robbed me!'

But the effort exhausted him; he sank back putting his hands to his head.

'I don't understand this. What has happened? John, where am I?'

Rallywood explained hurriedly.

'We're on the up line, Major. Have another pull at my flask, and see if you can get to the Ford block-house. The night mail will be on us directly. Ah, there are the men,' as a stolid sergeant thrust his weather-beaten face in at the door.

Rallywood gave the necessary orders rapidly, then turned to the Major.

'Are you badly hurt? Do you think you can ride?' said he.

'Ride! of course I can ride. How far is it to Revonde?'

Rallywood put his arm round him, and helped him very tenderly from the carriage.

Counsellor stood up in the howling wind and looked about him into the wild night.

'I've had a nasty knock on the head, and I suppose they look to the night mail to finish the business. Make haste, John! where's your horse? Treachery's afoot to-night. I've lost my despatches—they robbed me of them! But I'll beat them all yet! Give me your flask. How far is it to Revonde?'

The troopers had dispersed, some to warn the coming train, others to arrange for the removal of the carriage from the track.

Counsellor had his foot in the stirrup, and with difficulty Rallywood got him up into the saddle.

'Thirty miles, but you cannot ride there to-night,' answered Rallywood.

'With your help I'll beat them yet, John! Thirty miles? I'll be there before daylight! I can go by the stars once I find the road.'

He stuck his heels into the horse's side, but Rallywood still held the bridle.

A wild gust tore round them, and in the succeeding lull Rallywood laid his hand on the other man's knee.

'Major Counsellor, you are my prisoner,' he said.

'How's this, John?' the question came thin, pitiful and weak. A new doubt, the old affection, and a strange helplessness mingled in the words, and they cut deep into Rallywood's ears.

'That was a bad knock on the head,' muttered the Major apologetically, and sank forward on the horse's neck again unconscious.



CHAPTER XXV.

A QUESTION OF TWO MORALITIES.

The road towards the block-house ran along the river bank past the Kofn Ford. They went slowly on together through the starry windy night, Rallywood with his hand on the bridle and the wounded man holding limply to the saddle.

The tsa raved and rocked in the pine trees, through the pauses of the storm a wolf barked, and the black, tumbled water was still swelling and gulping under the low stars. But the tumult of noises only served to accentuate the hideous loneliness which is the salient characteristic of the Frontier.

Counsellor, with an unaccustomed warfare in his heart—rage and the pity of it working together—stared into space across the leaping river.

As the two men drew near the ford, they saw the dim figure of a horseman riding down the bank on the opposite side, with the evident intention of crossing. The approaches to the ford were flooded, for the angry water fretted out its banks at such times and deepened into dangerous swirls over the crossing-place.

Rallywood checked the horse to shout and signal to the man that the ford was impassable, but his voice was drowned by the harsh throated noises of the night. Weak as was the starlight, something of the loose reckless swing in the saddle told Rallywood that the rider was Anthony Unziar. Unziar galloped down the stones of the incline and plunged into the torrent. It was clear from where he took the water that he intended to make for the little beach below the block-house. His course was marked by a whitish rise in the water; now and then the watchers on the bank lost sight of the struggling figure as a tree-trunk whirled past and hid him, or he seemed to sink in some tormented eddy, but he came into view again and always nearer. At the last moment, whether horse and man were exhausted or whether a furious tangle of cross-currents caught them, they were swung round and away from the landing-point.

It was now evident that Unziar saw Rallywood, for in answer to the latter's signs that he must make for the shallows lower down, Unziar waved some object over his head as if to call attention to it. The suck of the current was fast drawing him away, but with another strong effort he got the horse's head round; they heard his faint shout upon the wind then the words came more clearly:

'Carry them on—Selpdorf!' He flung something forwards; the gale caught and hurled it on to the rocks at Rallywood's feet.

When they looked again Unziar had disappeared.

Hurrying up to the block-house, Rallywood sent off some troopers to Unziar's assistance; then with some difficulty got his prisoner, who was stiff and dizzy, on his feet and supported him to the room where Madame de Sagan and Valerie had rested on the night of the snow-storm.

Rallywood did all that could be done for Counsellor, then he sat down at the narrow table to face his position. The tsa battered at the little window, and the camp-bed creaked under Counsellor's weight as he turned and groaned upon it, while Rallywood sat with soul and body absorbed in the consciousness that at last the time of which Counsellor had warned him was come, the time when he should find his enemies dressed in red. Under almost any other circumstances it would have been possible to retire from the position with honour. Had war been declared between England and Maasau, he could have resigned his commission. But to-night he found himself without any such means of escape, fast in the jaws of the cleverly-contrived trap set for him by Selpdorf.

But he scarcely yet knew the worst. Presently Counsellor spoke.

'This thing has gone beyond a joke,' he said, 'What does it mean?' The glance from under the overhanging gray brows had regained its fire.

'My orders are simple enough. I am to keep you here until to-morrow afternoon at three o'clock.'

'By doing so you will ruin Maasau as a free State and bring a most serious defeat upon the British policy.' Counsellor's voice was rasping. 'Are you prepared for that?'

Both men were strenuous, and bred deep into the bone of each were the same dominant qualities.

'I am prepared to carry out my orders,' answered Rallywood; 'I had them practically from the Duke himself.'

'The Duke is of the same mind in which I found him at the Castle, though he may be forced to dissemble,' asserted Counsellor; then with a twist he sat up as his glance fell upon the square dark object lying on the table between them. 'John Rallywood, do you know what that is?'

'The despatches thrown to me by Unziar.'

'That case is mine; it contains my private instructions; you can guess something of their importance from the fact that I have been robbed of them. You must give them back to me! As an Englishman and an honest man, I call upon you to give them back to me.'

Rallywood's long nervous fingers closed over the packet.

'It is impossible!' he said. 'As an Englishman, yes, but as an honest man, well, it—it is hard to say.'

'Are you mad?' cried Counsellor.

'I have not had long to think it out, and it is a tangled question,' replied Rallywood wearily.

'A tangled question? I take it you are first of all an Englishman?'

'In my private capacity, and that deals with my private honour; but I have undertaken another responsibility from which I cannot withdraw at pleasure. I am a sworn soldier of Maasau, and as such my public honour has first claim.'

It was a simple rendering of a tremendous problem, but it served for Rallywood.

'Then——' said Counsellor.

There was a rush and a scuffle, but Rallywood was young and strong and more active than the Major.

'Confound you!' Counsellor fell back a step or two, breathing hard. There are some situations which by their elemental force destroy all other emotions. The situation at Kofn guard-house was one of these. The point at issue between these two men pierced to the bed-rock of national loyalty. Perhaps Blivinski was right. Love of country was part of their physical equipment, yet by the irony of circumstances they were pitted against each other.

'Will you give me your parole?' asked Rallywood with his back to the door.

Counsellor drew out a big watch.

'For fifteen minutes,' he said. 'It is now half-past nine; at forty-five minutes past I shall hold myself once more free to do what I can. You understand? In the meantime we will talk.'

Rallywood motioned Counsellor back to the camp bed while he himself sat down on the table.

'I fancy, John, we are both rather in the dark about all this,' began Counsellor. 'Tell me your story, and I'll tell you mine.'

'My orders were clear enough,' Rallywood said. 'I was to take charge of a prisoner, to be brought to me by the incoming mail at the spot where I met you. You arrived queerly, I admit, rolling along the down line, but you are undoubtedly the person of whom I was instructed to take charge.'

'Ah—I begin to see. There may be many men in Maasau who would rob me, but there is only one man who could do it so clumsily.'

'Count Sagan?'

'Naturally. But to return, I left you at the Castle looking for Colendorp; whether you found him or not does not come into this affair. Perhaps he was in Sagan's way and he removed him——'

'With a knife.'

'That is quite in the Count's manner. Well, I got safely to England, where my business took a day and a half longer than I expected. I received my despatches, and five hundred miles from here I took the precaution of removing them from my despatch-box. After we left the Frontier station I noticed that our train had lost half its length, and that I was in the last carriage. I didn't like it. It is never healthy for a despatch-box to travel in an end compartment. That is tempting of Fate.'

Counsellor stopped as if to collect his thoughts again.

'After a little the pace slackened and I felt a sharp jolt. They were switching me on to the down line, an improvement upon the original plan so like the Count's manner that it almost proves he must have been on the spot superintending operations. Next it was a face at the window. I used my revolver, but they stunned me and robbed me and left it to the night mail to close my mouth for good. Now you know where you are, John Rallywood; you are abetting a crime, and a crime against your own country, against England!'

Rallywood laughed, but a laugh against oneself has a bad sound with it.

'It seems the day has come when I find my enemies dressed in red!' he said.

'Why, yes, if you choose to put it so. If you either carry these despatches on for Unziar or remain to keep me prisoner, you play Germany's game for her.'

'Perhaps not,' suggested Rallywood. 'The Chancellor sent me here.'

Counsellor's short angry grunt of derision surprised him.

'Mademoiselle Valerie may be loyal, but Selpdorf is at the bottom of the whole plot. Does he guess there is any bond of liking or interest between you and his daughter? If so, he sent you here to break you! He knew that between the conflicting claims of a man's public and private honour lie shame and often death. Do you not see that amongst them they are bent on ruining you? Just now, when I hoped all might be yours that a man can ask for! Your Chicago cousin at Queen's Fain is dying and you are his heir. Yet you are to be ruined—ruined by the hate of Elmur and Sagan, and what are you to Selpdorf but a fly to be crushed whose presence annoys him?'

'Are you sure of this? His sending me to be witness of your assassination fits in badly with the theory of his collusion.'

'Perfectly; Sagan stultified the scheme, that was all. Selpdorf forgot that Sagan is a wild beast who can only be fed with blood!' Counsellor paused. 'The highway robbery with violence to which I have been subjected is Sagan's bull-headed translation of Selpdorf's hint to detain me. Thus, according to their calculations, before I can get to Revonde the Duke will have been induced to lend himself to some other course. It is not hard to read their tactics. They run on old lines. So you see there is only one way out of it—you must help me, John.'

What advice he might have offered to Rallywood as simple man to man occupied no place in Counsellor's intentions. He was England's envoy as opposed to her antagonists, and into the scale in her favour he meant to throw the whole of his personal influence with Rallywood.

Rallywood made a sign of dissent.

'But surely you will not side with Sagan's party as against the Duke?' urged Counsellor.

'The Duke has been known to change his mind before now.'

Counsellor bit savagely at his moustache. The minutes were flying.

'I wonder if old Gustave has allowed himself to be humbugged yet once more!' he said to himself. 'John, on which side do you suppose Valerie Selpdorf would wish to see you?'

'We need not mention her,' answered Rallywood stiffly.

'What? Have you not spoken? Does she not know?'

'She knows—yes, and others know too that I love her. But it is ended. There is nothing more; there never can be now.'

Counsellor put his hand to his head.

'Will you help me? That after all is the question.'

Rallywood looked down at him, and Counsellor fancied there was a shadow of reproach in the glance.

'For you that is the question, but for me there is another,' Rallywood said deliberately. 'Until I can resign my oath to Maasau, honour holds me her sworn soldier.'

'Of all things in the world what is so arbitrary as honour?' cried Counsellor. 'Honour is a wild flower; God plants it, but man prunes it, and the devil only can be responsible for the sports one sometimes meets with. Well, go your own and the devil's way!' The Major turned irritably round. 'In my creed a man's first duty is to his country.'

'I wish I could see it so,' said Rallywood sadly. Then the hush of the mighty battle fell upon the little room. The air was stifling to both, for Counsellor knew what was in his companion's heart and even felt a far-off pity for him, but no relenting. Rallywood's handsome brown face had grown suddenly sharp and aged, and his gray eyes contracted to dark points under their frowning lids. The man was looking on the wreck of his life, and slowly coming to the conclusion that he must choose that course which would add the defeat of the land he loved to his own ruin. He would have died for England, happy in the sacrifice, but to lose all in her despite was a bitter thing.

'Time's up,' said the Major. 'You have one minute to give me your decision.'

'A soldier should see no further than the point of his sword,' replied Rallywood. 'An oath stands between me and my desires. These despatches may be yours, but you know how they have come into my charge. As long as I am a soldier of Maasau, my duty to her comes first of all. I cannot let you go nor can I give up these despatches! Curse you!' a strong flash of emotion breaking in upon the restraint of his speech, 'why have you no sword? If you had killed me——'

Counsellor put his watch back into his pocket.

'A man's country should be his conscience,' said the old diplomatist, as one who pronounces a definite and unassailable truth. Then he waited.

Rallywood stood up.

'I cannot argue,' he said, 'but Major, you will believe me when I say that I see my duty plainly. I refuse!'

'I have had a great regard for you,' replied Counsellor slowly, 'but if you were my own son, by Heaven, I'd blow your brains out to-night! Give me those despatches.'

There was a rapid movement and the gleam of a pistol barrel in his hand.

'Thank God!' It was not more than the faintest whisper from Rallywood as he sprang at his companion.

But there was no report, only an ominous click as Counsellor flung the unloaded revolver in Rallywood's face with a bitter word.

'It was not loaded.'

Hardly had they closed when the door was opened and a couple of men supported Unziar into the room. The water ran in streams from his clothes to the floor, while he stood and stared at the two combatants who had fallen apart.

'I suppose they sent you to meet me, Rallywood,' he said in English; 'it is lucky, for I'm done! You must carry those despatches on without delay, for they must reach the Chancellor at the earliest possible moment. Go; there is no time to lose!'

Rallywood pointed to Counsellor.

'This gentleman is my prisoner. You will keep him here until further orders. Meantime I will ride on with these to Revonde.'

Counsellor and Unziar remained together, but no word passed between them till out in the windy night they heard the beat of hoofs as Rallywood rode away on his mission.



CHAPTER XXVI.

LOVE'S HANDICAP.

As Rallywood galloped steadily through the night under the shrinking moon, with the tsa behind him and the pearl-grey road withering away into the level distance ahead, it happened that the two women of whom he must have had some thoughts during that lonely ride met and spoke together.

'Valerie, I called for you to go with me to the Abenfeldt's reception, because I have a question to ask you,' began Isolde at once when the door of the carriage was closed.

The passing lamps shone varyingly upon their faces as they passed through the lighted streets, and Madame de Sagan looked at her companion.

'Where is Captain Rallywood?' she added abruptly.

His name had not passed between them since the interview at the block-house.

'I cannot tell you. I don't know,' said Valerie coldly.

'Oh, my dear child, all is fair in love and war! Why be so dreadfully cross with me still?'

'Is it necessary to recur to the subject at all?'

'Will you never forgive me, I wonder?'

Valerie looked steadily back into the lovely face, where the underlying spirit of mockery was transmuted into an innocent playfulness like a child's.

'On the contrary, I thank you.'

'Why—for humbling him? Valerie, you are——'

'Happy!' Valerie could not forego the very womanly triumph, 'very happy! And you made me so.'

'But,' said Isolde with some perplexity, 'you would have it that he did not mean what he said.'

In her heart she thought Valerie a great goose for making any such disclaimer. Vanity has knowledge of no tongue whereby to interpret pride.

'No, but it showed me what he was.'

'I wonder how Baron von Elmur would like to hear that his future wife was not ashamed to declare her love for another man!' retorted Isolde.

'I mean to tell him.'

'No, no, Valerie, don't!' exclaimed Madame de Sagan, whose weakness exuded very often in a sort of kind-heartedness, 'I should not tell him. Such a confidence is apt to turn sour in a husband's memory. You may trust me—I will keep your secret.' Valerie smiled scornfully.

'But I can keep a secret! For instance, I want to hear where Captain Rallywood is, because I know the Count hates him, and also,' she nodded her head slowly, 'and also our dear friend Baron von Elmur.'

Valerie was startled.

'Baron von Elmur?' she repeated.

'Oh, you quite mistake the matter. The ill-feeling has nothing to do whatever with you or with me. The Count and von Elmur hate him on very different grounds. Everything appears to interest men now-a-days but ourselves!' she ended sadly.

'Because he is English, perhaps?'

'Well, yes, it has something to do with it. You remember that last night at the Castle? I conclude it was Jack who spoiled their plans when Simon and the Baron went to the Duke's apartments.'

'The Count and Baron von Elmur together? What did they go for?'

The question dried up the little stream of babble.

'How should I know? But there was a fight—I'd back Jack against most people! That is one reason I—liked him. We heard the shots, and though I was horribly frightened I told you none of the particulars, yet I knew all. Speak to me, Valerie! What are you thinking of?'

Valerie had been rapidly going over in her mind the incidents Isolde had alluded to. For the first time she understood. There had been a German plot which she had helped to defeat, a plot to place Count Sagan at the head of the State, and the price he was to pay was the freedom of Maasau. She must see her father before she slept and warn him of the conspiracy, which although it had failed temporarily at the Castle of Sagan was still in existence. She felt certain that her father knew nothing of the German plot, nor of Sagan's bitter enmity against himself, as proved by the attempt on her own life. Fears for her father, for Rallywood, and for Maasau crowded upon her, though she kept up an appearance of composure that Isolde might not guess the importance of the information she had given.

'I was thinking of Captain Rallywood,' answered the girl at last, offering the excuse Isolde would be most likely to accept as true. 'I did not know he had so many enemies. But is he not in Revonde?'

'No, he has not been at the barracks since yesterday afternoon. I sent him an invitation. You never give me credit for sincerity, but I am steady in my friendships. I do not mean to drop him because he talked all that nonsense at Kofn Ford. You boasted about M. Selpdorf's power—make him use it now to save Rallywood. I begin to believe that you are really as cold as you pretend to be, Valerie, you care so little! Whereas I, in spite of all that has happened, would serve him if I could.'

'I shall see my father when I return to-night, I promise you.'

Isolde buttoned her glove thoughtfully.

'You must be careful not to let him suspect that you have any especial interest in Jack,' she said, 'for that would be merely an additional reason for letting Rallywood—go.'

Valerie could not misunderstand the euphemism.

'Isolde, my father is not a savage!' she exclaimed.

'Perhaps not,' said Madame de Sagan simply. 'He is, I know, a very charming man in society, but my experience goes to show that every man is a savage—au fond.'

Words which embody the opinion of more women than one cares to number.

It was three o'clock when an officer of the Guard, leaving the wind-swept darkness of the country behind him, rode through the north gate of Revonde into the vivid black and white perspectives of the city, where close outside the brilliant line of electric lights night herself seemed to stand incarnate, a jealous intensity of blackness.

Rallywood had picked up Unziar's relays of horses at certain points, and on the whole had made good time of the ride. Now he crossed the bridge that lies opposite to the gate of the Palace, and mounted the curving streets towards the Chancellerie.

He swung from his horse at the foot of the broad flight of granite steps under its overhanging portico as a carriage dashed up on the other side. The high doors above were flung open and a roll of red cloth dropped from step to step down to the pavement, a couple of footmen placing it with the quick deftness of use until it reached the carriage.

As she alighted Mademoiselle Selpdorf recognised the tall figure in the travel-stained riding cloak.

'Captain Rallywood, where have you come from?' she asked almost involuntarily.

'From the frontier, Mademoiselle.'

'Will you give me your arm? What has happened? Has Major Counsellor come back?' she whispered as they went up the steps.

'He is at the Ford. He has met with an accident.'

Valerie said no more, but as she entered the hall she read Rallywood's face.

'Has his Excellency returned?' she asked of an attendant. 'Then place refreshments in the small library. Captain Rallywood, I will join you in a few moments. M. Selpdorf will be home very soon. He is anxious to see you.'

It was a little necessary make believe before the numerous servants. How far it deceived them may be faintly guessed when one considers anyone's secrets in relation to anyone's servants.

'Man designs his own game,' thought Rallywood as he followed the servant into whose charge he was given, 'or he is forced to stand out and circumstances play it for him. In the years all is one.'

Whichever way the issue of this night's work turned, Maasau and Valerie must both pass from his life forever. The one supreme obstacle which lurks always beside the mercenary's path had arisen to bar his advance at last.

Valerie opened the door softly. She was trembling and afraid, but she would not be outdone in generosity by Rallywood. She had determined to thank him for the words spoken at Kofn Ford, and to show him how entirely she comprehended their chivalrous intention. But when her eyes fell upon him all thought of self faded. He was standing midway between the gleaming wine and glass of the side-table and the flickering glow of the open stove, upright and stately as he ever appeared to her, but in his new attitude her sharpened senses perceived a suggestion of disheartenment and solitude.

Swept away by the feeling of the moment, she crossed the room to his side and laid her hand upon his arm.

'What is it? Something has happened,' she said.

Rallywood looked down at her. The beautiful eyes like starlit darkness, her clear-hued loveliness, the soft dusky curls about her brow, her girlish reserves and petulances, all her sweet unapproachable personality enhanced to pain the knowledge that he was looking his last upon them.

'Nothing to distress you, Mademoiselle, because M. Selpdorf knows all about it.'

'Then tell me; I know so much already.'

'I wish I could. But I think his Excellency might prefer to tell you himself.'

'Is it good news, then? Major Counsellor has succeeded? Then why are you so sad?'

'Sad, Mademoiselle?' he answered with a smile. 'Men often look sad when they are only hungry and dog-tired.'

'Then eat,' she said. 'Let me give you some wine.'

She drew him to the table and poured out a glass of wine.

'To the success of Maasau and of England,' she said. Then touching it with her lips in the graceful fashion of Maasau, she handed it to him.

'Hark! I think I hear my father arriving, and there is something I must say to you before he comes.'

She clasped her hands nervously, the bare shapely hands with their gleaming rings, and Rallywood watched her and felt as if he were dreaming.

'Captain Rallywood, I want to thank you. I can never thank you enough for that night at Kofn Ford. I understood—pray believe I understood it—and I think you are the noblest gentleman alive!'

Rallywood did not hesitate. There was one thing Valerie should know and be certain of in the uncertain future.

'Give me a moment, Mademoiselle,' he exclaimed, detaining her. 'I see you do not quite understand. I could not expect you to understand. But now—now that I am leaving Maasau, I must tell you the truth. Perhaps you will believe it some day. I am proud——'

'I know it, and yet you—oh, say no more! For my sake you stooped to say it. It was not true! But I knew that.'

He took her hands between his own in a firm strong clasp.

'Listen, Mademoiselle. It was true! Since first I saw you it has always been true!'

'I remember!' she said breathlessly. She could not help saying it.

'Do you?' he answered; the temptation to wander a little was too sweet. 'You wore this cloak,' he touched it softly with his fingers, then laid his hand over hers deliberately, in the quiet confident way in which he did everything and which she had grown to love, 'and ever since I have carried the glove you despised. And though this is my good-bye, I will carry it—always.'

'But—but——'

'Oh, I don't ask you to believe me now,' he said bitterly. 'I am not noble, Mademoiselle. I was only too proud to say I loved you that night, as,' with another smile, 'I was only too proud not to say it before.'

Valerie raised her face and her eyes were full of light.

'Then it was true—thank God!'

But Rallywood, though he saw the purpose of her speech, would not understand its significance. He led her towards the door by which she had entered.

'You must go, Mademoiselle. I—dare not keep you with me longer. Good-bye, and may God go with you, Valerie!'

She stopped suddenly and kissed the hand that held hers.

'I too am proud,' she whispered, and the door closed upon her.



CHAPTER XXVII.

THE MAN OF THE HOUR.

'Selpdorf is the man of the hour,' Counsellor once said to Rallywood, and the Major's sayings had a trick of lingering in the memory. With the Chancellor then still remained the key to the situation. He was implicated in the conspiracy, but he had less to gain and far more to lose than the others. A dangerous condition and one possible of development.

All this passed in a flash through Rallywood's mind as the opposite door opened to admit M. Selpdorf, who replied stiffly to Rallywood's bow.

'I was not prepared to see you this evening,' began Selpdorf.

'I have brought the despatches, your Excellency,' replied Rallywood, taking the packet from his pocket but continuing to hold it in his hand.

Selpdorf eyed him.

'From whom?'

'Lieutenant Unziar.'

The affair was falling out in an unexpected manner. Selpdorf was a student of human nature as all of his craft must be, and Rallywood offered for his observation a character out of the common and hard for a Maasaun to read. How had he escaped from the dilemma in which he had been so carefully placed? The Chancellor was curious to hear. The man was an artist in the human passions.

'From Lieutenant Unziar?' Selpdorf repeated tentatively. 'And your prisoner? The man whom I ordered you to keep at the block-house?'

The Chancellor half expected to hear that Counsellor was also in Revonde, and that Rallywood with an unassuming but unspeakable effrontery had called to explain his own view of the matter.

'Unziar is with him—with Major Counsellor at Kofn Ford. Unziar was unable to ride on at once after crossing the river, which is in flood. Therefore I have come.'

Was it possible Rallywood had merely shirked facing the difficulty in this way? thought Selpdorf.

'Ah, Major Counsellor? And these are the despatches?'

'These are Major Counsellor's private despatches, which were stolen from him within the frontier of Maasau!' said Rallywood.

Selpdorf's round eyes showed their lids in an odd flicker. The attack was sudden. He brushed his moustache upwards with a thoughtful movement of the finger and thumb, regarding Rallywood as he did so.

'Then why have you brought them to me?' he said at last.

'Because a soldier should see no further than the point of his sword, your Excellency,' replied Rallywood slowly.

'Good! And how do you come to know what the packet contains?'

'The persons who robbed Major Counsellor did not even take the precaution of placing it under another cover. He recognised it at the block-house.'

'It seems to me then that you had a decision to make at the block-house?'

'Yes,' said Rallywood simply.

But it was not a subject to bear discussion.

'As a soldier of Maasau you decided rightly.' Selpdorf misjudged Rallywood for the moment; it crossed his mind that this was a mercenary after all and to be bought.

'But as a man I now wish to resign my commission.'

Selpdorf raised his brows.

'But why? At the very moment when you have proved your faithfulness and your zeal? When we owe you recognition of these high qualities?'

'I want nothing, your Excellency, but to go out from this house a free man,' returned Rallywood coldly.

'Reconsider your words, Captain Rallywood.'

'Even if other difficulties had not arisen,' went on Rallywood, 'I may remind your Excellency that a soldier's oath does not cover robbery and assassination.'

Selpdorf was, and looked, astonished.

'I don't understand you,' he said gravely. 'Pray tell me what you mean.'

'I found Major Counsellor alone and unconscious in a single carriage that had been sent rolling down the incline on the line where the outgoing mail train could not fail to collide with it. The inference is clear. Some one wished to make an end of him—in a railway accident. But the plan was a curiously stupid one, for nothing could satisfactorily explain Major Counsellor's presence there, since it was well known to the British Legation in Revonde that he was entering, not leaving Maasau.'

Selpdorf stood silent. Here was another ill-devised amendment born of Count Sagan's blundering brain.

'It is a very strange story,' he said at length. 'Had the train come in collision with the carriage which you assert was on the down line——'

'The troops from Kofn and the railway people at Alfau can prove that.'

'The mail might have been derailed, with no one can tell what loss of life.'

'Count Simon holds life cheap,' said Rallywood. 'No life that stands in his way can be safe. Not even the life of Mademoiselle Selpdorf!'

The Chancellor was moved for once.

'You are out of your senses!' he said sternly.

'It is true!'

Both men looked around. Valerie had entered.

'Father, you must hear me before you—before you——'

She glanced at Rallywood and stopped.

'Go, Valerie; you have nothing to do with these things.'

Selpdorf met her as she came towards him.

'You must hear me to-night, father. You are mistaken; I have had a great deal to do with them. I know all that Captain Rallywood has said to you—yes, I had a right to know. For it was I who brought Major Counsellor to the Duke's apartments at the Castle, because I knew there was a plot against his Highness. But I did not know it was a German plot in which Baron von Elmur was using Count Sagan. Oh, you must be on your guard against them!'

'Who has been frightening you with all this nonsense?' asked Selpdorf with cold suspicion.

'You don't understand me! Father, I know how Captain Colendorp died. I saw it—the struggle and his fall over the cliff. Then I guessed his Highness was in danger, and I went to warn him. Captain Rallywood, tell my father of Count Sagan's visit to the Duke's rooms in the middle of the night with Baron von Elmur. I—we, Isolde and I—heard the shots. You do not know it, but there is a plot. Your life is not safe! Captain Rallywood is right; no life that stands in Count Sagan's way is safe! And you on whom the State depends—you who alone can uphold her liberty—you are the first they will try to destroy! He hates you, else why should he try to kill me?'

She was clinging to his arm.

'To kill you? If I thought that was true—if I could believe he meant to injure you——'

It added very much to Selpdorf's difficulties that he had a conscience and a heart. Perhaps Valerie had kept both awake. He, who acted a part to all the world, had been sedulous to maintain a high role before his daughter. Perhaps he valued her absolute faith in him even more than her love, which is a commoner attitude of mind than we realise.

He felt himself at fault. Although he had heard no details to enable him to judge for himself, yet he knew he could rely upon Valerie's statement that an attempt had been made upon her life. Count Simon's unscrupulousness was an old tale, but this crime was not only cold-blooded but also extraordinarily stupid, since the faintest suspicion of foul play would finally estrange the one person in all Maasau whose help was necessary to the success of his plans and hopes. It is to be doubted whether the Count's ineptitude did not disgust the Chancellor more thoroughly than his treachery towards Valerie.

Selpdorf was at no time a man who made up his mind irrevocably. Astuteness sometimes keeps step with uncertainty. To a clever man so many sides of a question are visible. On all counts he was now prepared to yield to Valerie's wishes; perhaps looking ahead even in that moment, he saw a fresh combination before him, which, while quite equally safe and useful to himself, omitted Count Sagan.

The Chancellor raised his eyes. At this moment—diplomatically—he was superb. He had an air of sagacious decision, an air of holding a master-stroke in reserve, whereas he was in reality merely retiring to a negative position to wait upon events.

'Tell me the story,' he said.

'There is nothing further to tell,' replied Rallywood. 'Mademoiselle has given you the main facts. But for her Maasau would to-day be a province of Germany, in fact if not in name.

'I have been misinformed and deceived in an incomprehensible manner,' the Chancellor said emphatically. There was still the matter of Counsellor's despatches. Nothing was now to be gained by keeping them, whereas by giving them back to the old diplomatist, Maasau was sure to profit for the time at least. The difficulty was to get rid of the packet without loss of prestige to himself. 'Now as to Major Counsellor's despatches,' he added doubtfully.

'You will send them back to him,' said Valerie eagerly.

'You cannot see the difficulty of my position.' The Chancellor laid his hand upon her shoulder. 'To be frank with you, and in confidence, Captain Rallywood, I have not been ignorant that an understanding existed between Count Sagan and the Baron von Elmur. I have even been obliged to countenance it to a certain extent. As you know, they are aware that these despatches have been sent to me. If I use them as my daughter suggests, I need scarcely point out that trouble must ensue, since I, more or less, represent Maasau. Now we cannot afford to offend Germany. She only awaits a pretext to hurl down her army of occupation upon us. Had I never had those despatches the way might have been easier.'

His glance at Rallywood held a large reproach.

'But, father, in honesty and justice'—

'It is a case of private justice as opposed to national necessity. If Captain Rallywood had sacrificed his public to his private honour, if he had chosen to prefer his country's cause to his oath of fealty——'