"But you are not even a student. You never open a book; you never quote things--ah, now you start because I have watched you. I can read your eyes, although you think you can drape them with the curtains of impa.s.siveness. But your wit is not always on guard to draw the curtains close enough. Yes, that's better; now they are saying nothing."

All this time she had been looking straight into my eyes, and laughing in gleeful triumph. And I found it embarra.s.sing enough. Then she changed suddenly, and said:

"Does my teasing worry you and weary you, cousin? I can school my curiosity if it does. But you will tell me all some day?"

"Is that schooling it?" I asked, and she laughed again. "Yes, I will tell you some day what there may be to tell. But it could do no good to do so yet."

"Is it a sad secret?" she began again after half a minute's silence, and would no doubt have gone on with her pretty cross-examination had we not, fortunately for me, been interrupted by a servant, who brought word that Steinitz, whom I had sent to Munich, had returned, and was asking to see me instantly.

"I hope there is no trouble?" said Minna, looking alarmed.

"I antic.i.p.ate none; no more, that is, than that we must break off our conference."

"You have given me your promise," she said.

"I ought to have made a condition--that you do not read me quite so carefully," I answered lightly as I rose.

"Then I have read aright? To me your eyes are as books."

"Yet you must be careful how you read them," said I.

"Why?"

"You may chance on the chapter with your name at the head."

"I wish I could," and she laughed and her eyes brightened. "I would give the world to know whether it is headed Queen of Bavaria or cousin Minna.

Which is it? Tell me, at least, so much."

"It may be neither," I answered ambiguously; but she seemed to understand something of my meaning, and to be pleased, for her cheeks were aglow with color as I hurried away.

Steinitz was awaiting me impatiently.

"There is ugly news, your Highness," he said shortly. "I saw Praga early this morning, and he bade me urge you to hurry at once to Munich. He has got wind of a move on the other side, which he prefers to tell to you alone. He will meet you to-morrow at noon where you met before, and he declares that the strictest vigilance must be used in regard to the countess, especially while you are away from the castle, and that your visit to the city should be made with the greatest secrecy."

"He told you nothing more of what he had discovered?"

"No more than I say. But I gathered his meaning to be that an attempt of some kind is imminent to get the countess out of our hands here."

This was likely enough, but I did not take so serious a view of the matter as Praga, because I felt that when I had explained our movements to Baron Heckscher he would be almost sure to select the moment when the thing could apparently be done with the least risk of discovery, and that would be at the last moment, when Minna returned from the palace after the reception.

At the same time I would go to Munich. I had already planned to go there on the following day in any event, and had announced my intention; but I settled to start at once. I sent for von Krugen and told him, charging him to keep the strictest watch over Minna; and after a very brief interview with her, in which she showed the liveliest concern for my safety, mingled, as it pleased me to think, with regret at our separation, I started with Steinitz on what I knew might be a critical expedition.

CHAPTER XIII

A CHECK

Matters were now hurrying fast to a crisis; and I hoped the result of my journey would be to complete all my preparations, and leave me nothing to do but return to escort Minna to Munich. So far all had gone well enough. I had no reason to think that either Heckscher or von Nauheim had the remotest idea that I knew of their treachery; and it was, of course, of the very essence of my plan that they should remain in ignorance. On this account I was unwilling to meet Praga again personally, and I resolved therefore to send Steinitz to him as soon as we reached Munich to tell him my intentions, and to get from him in return what he believed to be the Ostenburg move. I myself went straight to Baron Heckscher. He received me with apparent cordiality; but it was not difficult to see that as the day of the crisis drew near his anxiety was growing.

"All is going well, I hope," I said, after I had greeted him. "We have all our preparations made."

"All is going very well," he replied. "But you are a day earlier in Munich than we antic.i.p.ated."

"I have not come to remain," I answered, "although I have some important business. My cousin is not well; and her nerves are giving way as the day approaches. I have difficulty in keeping her courage up. Like a woman, she has some foolish fear that at the last moment something will happen to her--some disaster to overthrow her. But I have nearly conquered that fear, I trust."

"How?"

"She a.s.sociates the fear with her visit here, and I have a.s.sured her that night and day, every hour and every minute, she herself will be surrounded by absolutely stanch friends who would give their lives for her. The death of her brother just at the moment when success seemed to be within grasp is frightening her. Nor is that unnatural, especially when we reflect that her nerves have again been strained by her father's death."

My words had the effect I desired. It did not suit his plans that Minna should be guarded in this way.

"The Countess is not ill, I trust," he said after a pause.

"Oh, no, not positively ill. But she is very young, and so full of alarms that even I myself am inclined at times to question the wisdom of all this." Perceiving the value of the line I had taken, I went on to make the most of it. "Indeed, I want some very confidential talk with you. You understand that I am resolved to go on, and I have not breathed a word to suggest to her that there is even an alternative course; but there are two points on which I wish to consult you. In the first place, is it quite impracticable to abandon the thing? I am convinced my cousin would only too gladly renounce all claim to the throne."

He looked at me sharply and with manifest consternation.

"It is absolutely impossible, Prince, absolutely," he said emphatically.

"But you are not in earnest. Why, it would be madness, sheer madness to think of such a thing. Since you were here we have sounded men in all directions, and there is not one who is not enthusiastic at the idea of getting rid once and for all of this madman."

"But my cousin can only make a weak Queen at the best."

"My dear Prince, her weakness will be the strength of the country. Our great object is not so much to change the person of the ruler as to break the traditions of the ruler's power--to put on the throne some one whose t.i.tle will rest, not on any right divine, but on the people's power and will and choice. A woman will thus be far more dependent on the people than a man. Prince, the countess cannot draw back."

"But supposing she were willing to acquiesce in the election of the Ostenburg heir, and thus unite all sections of the people?"

"It is impossible, equally impossible!" he exclaimed readily. "It would be a betrayal of us all. It is not to be thought of."

I sat as if thinking this over, but in truth this prompt rejection of the means to do fairly what I knew he was plotting to do by foul had filled me with anger.

"And what would be the immediate consequences of a withdrawal?" I asked.

"Do you mean the personal consequences to the countess and yourself?" he asked, with a suggestion of contempt for such a consideration.

"I mean to all concerned."

"What could but be the consequences where three-fourths of a nation had been worked up to desire a revolution and found themselves cheated at the last moment by the--the timorousness of those in whose name and for whose sake the whole movement has been carried out? The badge of cowardice is a hard one to bear, Prince, and the anger of a disappointed people would not lighten the disgrace."

"We are no cowards, Baron Heckscher," I replied warmly, as if stung by his taunt.

"Then you must not so act that people may mistake you."

"We will not," I returned, with an air of angry decision.

"I was sure of it, and am only sorry you thought it necessary even to moot the suggestion. But now what is your second point? Not another objection, I hope."