Sometimes he put his hand to his ear and listened. There was no sound in the great lonely forest, save for the low murmur of the wind through the sprawling boughs. Shadows danced on the forest floor. Once he turned and shook his clenched fist toward the spot which marked the location of the Red Chateau. He thanked Providence that he was never to see it again.

What an adventure to tell at the clubs when he once more regained his Vienna! Would he regain it?

Why did Madame keep Fitzgerald to her strings? He concluded not to bother himself with problems abstract; the main object was to cross the Thalians by a path of his own choosing. When he had covered what he thought to be a quarter of a mile, he mounted a lookout. The highway was about three hundred yards to the left. That was where it should be. He saw no sentries, so he slid down from the tree and resumed his journey.

The chestnuts, oaks, and firs were growing thicker and denser. A dead branch cracked with a loud report beneath his feet. With his heart almost in his throat, he lay down and listened. A minute pa.s.sed; he listened in vain for an answering noise. He got up and went on.

Presently he came upon a cl.u.s.ter of trees which was capable of affording a hiding place for three or four men. He stood still and surveyed it.

The moon cast moving shadows on either side of it, but these had no human shape. He laughed silently at his fear, and as he was about to pa.s.s the cl.u.s.ter a man stepped out from behind it, his eyes gleaming and his hand extended. He was rather a handsome fellow, but pale and emaciated. He wore a trooper's uniform, and Maurice, swearing softly, concluded that his dash for liberty had come to naught. He, too, held a revolver in his hand, but he dared not raise it. There was a certain expression on the trooper's face which precluded any arguing.

"If you move," the trooper said, in a mild voice; "if you utter a sound, I'll blow off the top of your cursed head!"

CHAPTER XXIV. THE PRISONER OF THE RED CHATEAU

There the two stood, mottled in the moonshine and shadow, with wild eyes and nostrils distended, the one triumphant, the other raging and impotent. Maurice was growing weary of fortune's discourtesies. He gazed alternately from his own revolver, lying at his feet, to the one in the hand of this unexpected visitant. Only two miles between him and freedom, yet he must turn back. The Colonel had reckoned without Madame, and therefore without reason. This man had probably got around in front of him when he climbed the tree. He turned sullenly and started to walk away, expecting to be followed.

"Halt! Where the devil are you going?"

"Why, back to your cursed chateau!" Maurice answered surlily.

The strange trooper laughed discordantly. "Back to the chateau? I think not. Now, then, right about face--march! Aye, toward the frontier; and if I have to go on alone, so much the worse for you. I've knocked in one man's head; if necessary, I'll blow off the top of yours. You know the way back to Bleiberg, I don't; that is why I want your company. Now march."

But Maurice did not march; he was filled with curiosity. "Are you a trooper in Madame the d.u.c.h.ess's household?" he asked.

"No, curse you!"

"Who are you, then?"

"Come, come; this will not pa.s.s. No tricks; you have been following me these twenty minutes."

"The deuce I have!" exclaimed Maurice, bewildered. "To Bleiberg, is it?"

"And without loss of time. When we cross the Thalians I shall be perfectly willing to parley with you."

"To Bleiberg, then," said Maurice. "Since that is my destination, the devil I care how I get there."

"Do you mean to tell me that you are going to Bleiberg?" surprise mingling with his impatience.

"No place else."

"Are you a spy?" menacingly.

"No more than you."

"But that uniform!"

"I fancy yours looks a good deal like it," Maurice replied testily.

"I confess I never saw you before, and your tongue has a foreign twist,"

with growing doubt.

"I am sure I never saw you before, nor want to see you again."

"What are you doing in that uniform?"

"You have the advantage of me; suppose you begin the introduction?"

"Indeed I have the advantage of you, and propose to maintain it. Who are you and what are you doing here? Answer!"

There was something in the young man's aspect which convinced Maurice that it would be folly to trifle. Besides, he gave to his words an air which distinguishes the man who commands from the man who serves.

Maurice briefly acquainted the young man with his name and position.

"And you?" he asked.

"I?" The young man laughed again. It was an unpleasant laugh. "Never mind who I am. Let us go, we are losing time. What is the date?"

suddenly.

"The twentieth of September," answered Maurice.

"My G.o.d, a day too late!" The young man had an attack of vertigo, and was obliged to lean against a tree for support. "Are you telling me the truth about yourself?"

"I am. I myself was attempting to dispense with the questionable hospitality of the Red Chateau--good Lord!" striking his forehead.

"What's the matter?"

"Are you the mysterious prisoner of the chateau, the man they have been keeping at the end of the east corridor on the third floor?"

"Yes. And woe to the woman who kept me there! How came you there?"

Maurice, confident that something extraordinary was taking place, related in synopsis his adventures.

"And this cursed Englishman?"

"Will drain a bitter cup. Madame is playing with him."

"And the king; is he dead?"

"He is dying." Maurice's wonder grew. What part had this strange young man in this comedy, which was rapidly developing into a tragedy?

"And her Highness--her Royal Highness?" eagerly clutching Maurice by the arm; "and she?"

"She does not murmur, though both her pride and her heart are sore.

She has scarcely a dozen friends. Her paralytic father is the theme of ribald jest; and now they laugh at her because the one man who perhaps could have saved the throne has deserted her like a coward. Hang him, I say!"

"What do they say?" The tones were hollow.

"They say he is enamoured of a peasant girl, and dallies with her, forgetting his sacred vows, his promised aid, and perhaps even this, his wedding day."