A Dash for a Throne

by Arthur W. Marchmont

"I am not Queen yet," she exclaimed; and I was wondering at the meaning of this little action all the time I was donning my courtier's garb. Her changefulness puzzled me. Sometimes I hoped—well, I scarce know what I was not fool enough to think; and at others I feared. But my hopes were stronger than my fears on that account, and had there not been such important work on hand that night I think I could not have resisted putting the ball to far other use than its promoters had projected.

I could not drive with her to the palace, as it was necessary that I should arrive alone, and I had procured an invitation for her in another name. Von Krugen was to be in constant attendance upon her, with urgent instructions never to let her out of his sight; and Steinitz, who was also garbed as a courtier and carried a sword, was to be an additional guard, remaining at a distance and keeping in touch with me, so that I might know where to find Minna at the instant I needed. In order that there might be no difficulty in my recognizing her, supposing there were another domino of the same color and shape, we had had a small cross of red silk sewn on each shoulder.

I was very busy with my thoughts and full of anxiety as I drove away. So far as I could see now, my plans were complete. I had the Duke Marx in my hands; I had outwitted my opponents and could produce Minna at the very moment when they, reckoning on her absence, would have pledged themselves over the hilt in her cause; no one had breathed a hint to show that my assumption of the part of the Prince was more certainly known than a few days previously; and I had a fairly accurate knowledge of my opponents' tactics and aims, while they were ignorant of mine.

It was probable enough that my appearance at the ball safe and sound after von Nauheim's attempt on me would cause some consternation, and no doubt I must be well on my guard for the rest of the evening.

I was very late in entering, but that would only give color to the supposition that I had been trapped by von Nauheim; and I thought I might perhaps turn it to account by surprising something out of the men who did not expect me.

With this object I fastened my mask very firmly—it was a large one, and hid my features successfully; and, taking a hint from my old stage experiences, I humped up one of my shoulders, limped on one leg, and in this way hobbled, with the gait of an old man, into the ball-room.

It was a brilliant scene indeed. The magnificent suite of rooms was decorated in the most lavish manner, each in a different style and period; and the garish blaze of light in places contrasting with the soft, seductive tints of others, the artistic combination of decorative coloring, the changing play of the electric fairy lamps of every conceivable hue, the grouping of hundreds of palms and ferns with contrasting masses of gorgeously colored flowers, a thousand guests in all the exuberant splendor of the most exquisite costumes, and the sparkling glitter of myriads of jewels, made up a scene of positively gorgeous fascination.

To me it was a great stage, on which all the people present were but supers, walking, dancing chatting, laughing, and love-making, to fill up time until the really important characters should have their entrances called.

Near to the door, as I entered, a clown was fooling clumsily and awkwardly, and passing silly jests in a disguised voice with all who passed him.

I knew him directly. It was the mad King, and on the sleeve of his clown's tunic I saw the mark that told us who he was. Round him in busy hum I heard loud whispers about the greatness and cleverness of the King, and every now and then he would stop his silly jesting to listen to these comments.