I sent for him now and charged him on his honor to take the letter, and himself to place it in M. Frombe's hands when no one else was present; to ask no questions, and to answer none; but simply to bring back to me direct to Munich the reply, and not to breathe a word to a soul about the mission.

"My life may depend on your loyalty," I said when I gave him the packet, "and probably also that of the Countess Minna, and most certainly the whole future of our scheme," and I exacted a pledge of loyalty.

It was a risk, of course, but then risks were all about me, and I could not avoid taking some. All I could hope to do was to manage to select the smaller ones.

Then I had a close and, to a point, confidential conference with von Krugen; and I explained clearly what he was to do in the event of anything happening to me at Munich.

"If there is no treachery there will be no danger in this journey of mine; but if there is, and I am only too sure of it, then we know that those who are playing traitor will try to get rid of me in order to render my cousin helpless and in their power. That you must prevent; and her safety will rest almost solely with you."

"But the Count von Nauheim?" he asked in some surprise.

"You will trust no one but yourself, captain," I returned significantly.

"If I had proof that he was a traitor!" he growled.

"I am going to get proofs concerning everything. Unless this is all genuine, our scheme is bound to be shipwrecked."

His face grew very dark and lowering.

"My place is by your side in Munich," he said.

"If I can find the traitors, you may share in their punishment; but meanwhile your place is here in Gramberg to guard my cousin. And if you should have even a thought of danger while I am away, call me back at once. But if my calculations are correct there will be no immediate danger for her."

"Your Highness will not reckon on me in vain. But I would to G.o.d I could be with you there. You are taking your life in your hands, and ought not to go alone."

"If there is that amount of danger, better I alone than you with me; but I am well prepared, and shall not suffer things to reach that pa.s.s"--and I repeated at great length and detail all that I wished him to do in the event of his having to fly to Paris.

At the close of the interview he gave me a solemn pledge to carry out my wishes, and showed many signs of loyal regard for myself, mingled with genuine anxiety as to the issue of this journey to Munich. Then I sent word to von Nauheim that I should be ready to start with him on the following day, and I pa.s.sed a sleepless, tossing night seeking to piece together in a connected whole the fragments of the problem as I possessed them, and to estimate the actual perils and risks of what I knew must be an eventful journey.

CHAPTER VII

AT MUNICH

When we started for Munich it required very little observation to see that von Nauheim was striving sedulously to conceal the fact that he attached such critical importance to my accompanying him. Indeed, had I had no prior knowledge of him, I think his demeanor would have roused my suspicions.

"I suppose you will tell me what pa.s.sed between you and Minna yesterday," he said when we were in the train. "You've produced a considerable change in her, for I found her much more willing to go on with us than she was before."

"I gave her to understand that very much must depend on the result of this journey. If I am satisfied that there is reason to hope for success, it will be at least an impartial opinion--for at present I have not much faith. And I suppose she attaches a great deal of importance to that."

"Did you urge her not to throw us over? I presume you did."

"Why should I? I am not convinced myself."

"Well, here are signs enough of the popular indignation, at any rate,"

he said as he tossed me a morning paper with some very strong comments on the lunatic King's acts.

"Discontent is one thing, rebellion another," I replied as I opened the paper to read what he pointed out. I had no wish to talk, but to think, and I made as though I were engrossed in the paper.

My companion took another journal and played at reading it; but I saw him watching me every now and then, until the paper fell on his lap, and he stared out of the window obviously buried in his thoughts. I knew the tenor of them later when his face changed, and he turned to speak.

"You will stay with me, of course, Prince?" he said.

"Certainly," I replied readily, although half a hundred suspicions were started of his probably sinister motive for the invitation.

"It will be so much more convenient for our purpose than your going to the Gramberg town-house," he said. "I've been thinking of the best course to take. What sort of proof do you wish to have that measures are ripe?"

"An interview with those who are to carry them out, of course."

"That will be best; and fortunately most of them are in Munich. Then I presume you will be prepared to do what all the rest of us have done--take an oath of allegiance to the new Queen?"

"When I join you, I will do whatever the rest do."

"We are all pledged to the hilt. Every man of us has made the oath and signed a declaration to uphold the good cause."

"Signed a declaration? That seems a strong step," I said, though all forms were pretty much the same thing to me.

"But a necessary one. There is no drawing back then," he answered.

"Well, I will sign what I see others sign and do what others do," I replied firmly. "But, understand, I must see these things done before my eyes." I said this because of an idea that flashed into my thoughts at that moment.

"You are disposed to be cautious to the verge of timidity, eh?" he sneered.

"I am resolved to satisfy myself," I returned; and for a reason that I kept to myself I rather liked the idea of what he had said.

After a pause he continued:

"Roughly, what I propose is this: I will take you round to introduce you to the more prominent men--in particular to Baron Heckscher, who is really the leader of us; and then we will have a meeting at my rooms, where everything can be explained and settled. What say you?"

"I agree; but of course I reserve my right to take any other step I may think necessary that suggests itself to me."

"Naturally, naturally!" he exclaimed. "Now that the Prince has gone we are only too glad to have a cautious, calculating head to take his part."

The words were as false as the man. I read it in his tone and manner; and he was far more ready to curse me, had he dared, for my profession of caution. But I pressed it, because I knew that this exaggerated carefulness was the best evidence of my seeming sincerity.

A long silence followed, during which I weighed carefully all he had said. His manner in speaking of these details was tinged by a singular nervousness; he blurted out his points like a man who has been given a task which has overweighted him. And he suggested to me the condition of a poor actor who has had his part drilled into him by a subtler hand, and says his lesson badly.

Presently he began again:

"Of course you'll understand we are all putting ourselves into your hands and in your power in this matter; and the more so with every additional step we take." He was coming to another point in his lesson, I thought. "You will give me your solemn pledge not to divulge a single name you hear, nor a single fact that is told to you. If you'll do that now, I'll give you an outline of our plans at once."

"You can tell me as much or as little as you please. I pledge my honor to use nothing, except as the interest of my cousin may require--and that, I presume, is the intention of all concerned."

He frowned and bit his lips and thought a moment.

"Of course that's the intention; what else could it be?"