A Dash for a Throne

by Arthur W. Marchmont

"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."

"It is merely to discuss with you the last arrangements. Under the circumstances you will, I am sure, see the necessity for making them as simple as possible—indeed, my cousin's health will not permit anything else."

"Up to the moment of our great coup they cannot possibly be too simple. Anything else would be a great mistake. Up till somewhere about midnight of this day week, Wednesday next, the countess is of course no one but the very charming young lady that I am assured she is—I mean she is a private person. In that capacity she will attend the reception, and in order that there may be no suspicion attaching to her making a public appearance so soon after her father's death it has been arranged that a special desire for her attendance shall be expressed by the King. She will merely attend, kiss hands, and pass through the presence chamber, and leave the palace at once, should it be desired. She can return home and go to the ball, where she should be at about ten o'clock. She must be at hand of course when the great drama is played in which we are to take part. When the Act of Abdication has been read, you will lead her forward. That is all. We shall do the rest."

"And what will follow then?"

"I think she will stay at the palace. It is just in the few hours succeeding that scene that we shall have to be alert. The King will be missing, and a Council of State will be called on the following morning, when she will be proclaimed to the country. After that, events will settle themselves rapidly. We are prepared with a petition to the Imperial authorities, which will be signed by nearly every man of influence in the country, to recognize the succession and validate the abdication."

"But that Act of the King will surely be found to be a forgery?" I said.

My companion smiled and shook his head.

"On the contrary, it will be genuine. We should not use such clumsy means as forgery. We have it already written. For once his Majesty's lunacy has done his subjects a good service," he said bitterly. "He was minded recently to play a farce of abdication in favor of one of his hounds, declaring with his customary facetiousness that the Bavarians were dogs, and a fit King for them would be a hound. Accordingly he held what he was pleased to call a Privy Council—consisting of himself and his dogs. But those about him knew their business, and when he thought he had abdicated in favor of his dog they fooled him to the top of his bent, but drew the document in such a way that the insertion of the countess's name would be an easy matter. The addition of a date will make everything complete; and thus when the madman thought he was only insulting his people, he was in fact signing away his throne. He had this dog, a clever poodle, seated in the chair in the Council Chamber, garbed in State robes, and crowned with the crown of Bavaria. I tell you, Prince, that one act would stir the blood of even a nation of cravens—and we Bavarians are no cowards. My blood boils at the thought," he cried, clenching his fist, while his eyes flashed, and his face, usually immobile and cold, lighted up with the fires of passion.