A Dash for a Throne

by Arthur W. Marchmont

"Curse you, I'll make you pay for this!" he swore under his breath, with a vicious scowl. Then aloud, "Of course you people will understand that for the moment the present Prince here is your master," and with a wave of the hand he indicated me. He did it as ungraciously as he dared, and as soon as he had finished he left the room.

The effect of the incident was twofold—it strengthened my authority in the castle, and it made it more difficult than ever for me to draw back. But I had no thought now of doing that. I felt that I had cut off my retreat; and that, although I would much rather have told the Countess Minna exactly what my position was, any such candor was for the moment at least quite out of the question.

Of the girl herself I saw nothing during the next few days, and I passed the time absorbing all the information I could get, and trying to form a plan of campaign.

I guessed that nothing would be done by the agents of the Ostenburg family until a sufficient time had elapsed after the Prince's funeral to make it plain what we intended to do; and I judged that their next move would be determined by our own acts.

The funeral took place and directly afterward von Nauheim left the castle without acquainting me with his plans; and for four or five days following the Countess Minna gave no sign of a desire to see me. I began to grow impatient. I had no wish to force myself on her or into her confidence, but it was imperative that I should at least learn her wishes both in regard to von Nauheim and the big scheme of which her marriage was a part. In the mean time von Krugen was urging me to come to a decision to strike a blow to show our friends in Munich that we were going on with the matter.

I had come to the conclusion, however, that there was no chance whatever of carrying through any such plot as the old Prince had attempted. If it had ever been practicable to carry it out successfully, the chance had passed when the son, Gustav, had been killed. Up to that time there had, indeed, been a pretty widespread sympathy with the movement; and if a bold coup had been made, the lunatic King kidnapped, the young fellow proclaimed, and the Prince's power, shrewdness, and enormous influence thrown into the scales, it was possible that enough strength might have been paraded in the country to force the hands of the Imperial Government. But with the death of the son went half the support; and now with the death of the Prince I judged that more than half the remainder would go. It seemed to me, therefore, a sheer impossibility to carry such a scheme through successfully. The utmost I could hope to achieve would be to make such terms as should secure the safety of the Countess Minna, as well as of those who had been concerned in the plot thus far.

Obviously they were compromised up to the hilt; and the manner in which Gustav's death had been compassed showed that among the Ostenburg interest there were men of great daring and recklessness ready to go to any length in defence of their own. They were on the winning side now, moreover, and I deemed it certain that to whatever lengths they might go they were pretty certain to secure the covert sanction of the authorities at Berlin. Berlin would side with the successful, I reckoned. Thus the more closely I probed the situation the less I liked it.

But in these desperate circumstances, where each man who took a part was playing with his life, what was a coward like von Nauheim doing? Even if he was angling to get possession of the wealth which would be the portion of the countess, he was not the man to run his neck into a noose: and whoever married the Countess Minna would inevitably have as part of that dowry the implacable enmity of her enemies.

What, then, ought I to do? My instincts were all in favor of striking some kind of blow, and of being the attacker instead of waiting to be attacked. We appeared to be in danger of being squeezed out of existence. Our supporters were falling away, our position growing weaker, and our resources becoming feebler the longer we waited. If we could only effect some little thing, it seemed that we should be in a better position to negotiate than if we merely did nothing. But what could we do?

There was another serious danger in delay, moreover, arising out of the consummate uncertainty of my own position. It was one thing to be mistaken for the rightful heir to the Prince, but quite another to attempt to make good that claim legally; and I soon had a sharp reminder of this.