“Then the war came and without hesitation I chose the side of the Entente against the Turk and the Prussian. My little country was seized and overrun, my army was captured, everything seemed lost; but in my exile I waited patiently, certain that my allies would win and would restore me to my throne. That would seem to be simple justice, would it not, monsieur?”
Selden nodded. Undoubtedly there was a good deal to be said on the king’s side—and the king was an excellent advocate!
“I was aware,” went on the king with dignity, “that certain old enemies of mine were seeking to defame me, but I despised them. It is true that my eldest son had married a German woman, but that was nearly forty years ago. It is true that another son took refuge in Vienna and fought with the Austrians, but it was not with my consent—there was nothing I could do. It is a lie that my army surrendered unnecessarily; it was on the verge of starvation. It is a lie that I intrigued against my allies. Nevertheless there were some who believed these lies.”
His eyes were flashing and he was pounding the table with his fist.
“What happened, sir, at the end?” Selden asked. “I have heard many stories—I should like to know the true one.”
“And you shall, sir,” said the king. “I want the world to know it. This is what happened: When we entered the war, some hundreds of our people who had lived in America returned to fight for their country. That was their duty. Nevertheless I salute them for coming back! Many had gone to America because they had some grievance against me—it is impossible to please every one!—and over there those grievances had magnified. Also some of our young men had gone to Vienna or to Belgrade to study and had brought back with them ideas so dangerous that we were compelled to forbid them the country. These also for the most part had gone to America, and among them there had grown up a sentiment of revolution. They even sent back, from time to time, an emissary to assassinate me. I did not mind that,” the king added with a smile. “It rendered life less dull. But it enraged my people.”
The baron nodded solemnly.
“There were two attempts,” he said; “it was not a thing to jest about.”
“Ah, well,” said the king, with a wave of his hand, “all that was long ago! But these men came back. We could not inquire then as to their sentiments; the times were desperate—we had need of all of them. But they brought their ideas into the army, and, after the surrender, during the long months in the prison camps of Austria, they had the opportunity to propagate their poison. It spread everywhere.
“Then came the end. Austria withdrew her troops for a last stand against Italy; was defeated and surrendered. I was already back in my capital, with Lappo here, striving to restore order, when the prison camps were opened and the army came streaming back. Jeneski, who had been waiting for that moment, met them at the frontier, called together a number of his partisans, declared for a republic, and marched against me. I had no forces to oppose him, and again was driven into exile. In spite of my representations, he persuaded the conference at Paris to confirm this so-called republic. But he was ill at ease; he knew that I had still some power; and he offered me a huge sum if I would abdicate. I refused. A king cannot abdicate. Only cowards abdicate. And I would not further impoverish my country. No, monsieur, I am still king!”