A Dash for a Throne

by Arthur W. Marchmont

Then she turned and rushed back to her seat, where she covered her face and burst into a storm of passionate tears.

I took a curious course. I left the room. I did not wish her to think I had been gloating over her defeat. I scribbled a hasty note that I had been called away, and should be glad to see her another time, and left this to be given to her.

This interview had the necessary effect of increasing my uneasiness materially. Each day seemed now to be revealing a fresh weak spot, and the chances of failure were growing fast. Now it was not only the failure of the plot that threatened us, but the disgrace of personal exposure.

I had had no dishonorable motives in the personation of the Prince von Gramberg; but the consequences threatened to be entirely embarrassing, and, had there been no one else to consider but myself, I should have thrown the thing up there and then. But there was Minna, and her helpless and precarious position made retreat, on my part, quite impossible. It would be dishonorable to think of myself at such a time, while every chivalrous instinct in my nature made me keenly anxious to secure her safety.

But I must see Praga, and hear from him precisely how matters stood in regard to Clara Weylin, and how far she was likely to betray us. With much difficulty, and in the face of considerable risk of my communications with the Corsican being discovered, I succeeded in getting the interview with him. He came to my hotel disguised, and after much trouble in shaking off the spies, who, he declared, were now always dogging his footsteps.

Matters were as I had surmised. The actress was in love with him, and they were to be married. They had played often in Munich, and the Duke Marx von Ostenburg had become infatuated with her. He was persecuting her with proposals, and was in that calf stage in which he would do anything, and risk anything, at her mere bidding. There was not the least doubt in the world, declared Praga, that the woman could lure him anywhere she pleased with such a bait as she would pretend to offer. The two had, indeed, concocted a pretty little scheme between them, in while she and the duke were to be together, Praga, as the injured lover, was to interrupt them. Then they calculated that the duke, to save his skin—for his courage was not of very high quality—would consent to do anything that might be demanded.

The actress had come to Munich to put the matter in course, and, hearing of me only incidentally as the Prince von Gramberg, she had no suspicion that I was in reality the Heinrich Fischer against whom she had always nurtured her revenge, until a chance meeting with me in the street had revealed this to her.

I told him, of course, all that had passed between us, and questioned him closely as to what she was now likely to do. He declared his readiness to answer for her as for himself; and I had no alternative but to be contented with that pledge. Then we discussed many other points of the plan, and so arranged that there need not be another interview, unless unforeseen mishaps arose.

Before he left my momentary hesitation had passed, and I resolved to go on, and to trust to my wits to get out of any awkward consequences that might come. But those few days in Munich were among the most trying of any in my life. I passed them in a fever of suspense, anticipating all sorts of trouble; constantly on my guard; suspecting every one with whom I came in contact; and in such a condition of strain and tension that, when I returned to Gramberg to fetch Minna, she could not but notice with deep concern how worn and anxious I looked.

"This is wearing you out, cousin Hans," she said very gently. "You look more like a student now, and one who has been burning far too much midnight oil."