A Dash for a Throne

by Arthur W. Marchmont

"What do you mean 'if all is as it appears'? What else can it be?"

"In a thousand schemes every one must have a weak spot somewhere. In this I fear what Berlin may do."

This answer relieved the doubt I had purposely raised, and he smiled as though my objection were ridiculous.

"Discuss that with Baron Heckscher. You'll soon see there's no cause for fear in it."

"If I were sure of that, my last objection would be gone."

"Then you are ours at last!" he exclaimed triumphantly, "and I'm right glad of it, Prince. You'll never repent throwing in your lot with us, for we shall rule this kingdom as surely as you and I are sitting at this table."

Gradually I allowed myself to be led on by him to copy, in a modified degree, his tone of jubilant enthusiasm, until he had no longer a doubt that I had been won over completely; and I spoke as if in some awe of the magnificent mission and great opportunities which a woman of Minna's high character and aims would have as the future Queen of Bavaria. He indulged this vein in the belief that he was drawing out my earnestness and encouraging my loyalty, and, indeed, fooling me to the top of my bent.

He asked me how I would spend the day, and whether I wished to see any more of our friends, before the meeting, to discuss my lingering doubts as to interference from Berlin; but I said I would rather be alone, as I was accustomed to solitary meditation, and that I was going to ride. He placed his stable at my disposal, and suggested one or two places of interest to which I could go.

I pretended to accept his suggestions, and he watched me ride off, standing bare-headed and gazing after me. When I turned, he waved his hand, and his face wore a smile of confident self-congratulation at the cleverness with which he had duped me. I kept to the road which he had mentioned for a short distance, riding at a slow pace, and then, turning off from it, I threaded the outskirts of the town until I struck the Linden road, when I put my horse to a sharp canter to keep my appointment.

One point I had to consider carefully—how far to trust Praga. He was a man to beware of, unscrupulous, recklessly daring, and bitterly vengeful; but I had saved his life, and I believed that he had in his disposition that kind of rough and dogged chivalry which would incline him to feel under an obligation to me, at least until he had paid the debt in kind. Assistance of some sort from some one with inside knowledge I must have, for the case was desperate enough; and there was no doubt that he would be infinitely valuable to me. I had strong inducements to offer, too—revenge for his own injuries; gratitude for my help on the preceding night; momentary reward to any reasonable amount; and advancement to a post of confidence. There was a risk that he would betray me, of course; but I could not weigh these risks too carefully, and this was one I felt I must be content to take.