Truxton King: A Story of Graustark

by George Barr McCutcheon

"We need such men as King!" cried Colonel Quinnox as he waited inside the gates for the wild rider. A moment later King dashed through and the massive bolts were shot.

As he pulled up in front of the steward's lodge to await the orders of the Colonel, the exultant American completed the soliloquy that began with the mad impulse to ride into port under his own sails.

"I'll have to tell her that he did a fine thing in coming back for me, much as he hated to do it. What's more, I shan't say a word about his beastly temper. We'll let it pass. He deserves a whole lot for the part he played. I'll not forget it. Too bad he had to spoil it all by talking as he did. But, hang me, if he shall exact anything from her because he did a thing he didn't want to do. I took a darned sight bigger chance than he did, after all. Good Lord, what a mess I would have been in if the nag hadn't stopped! Whew! Well, old boy, you did stop, God bless you. Colonel," he spoke, as Quinnox came up, "do you think I can buy this horse? He's got more sense than I have."

Small bodies of foot soldiers and policemen fighting valiantly against great odds were admitted to the grounds during the next half hour. Scores had been killed by the fierce, irregular attack of the revolutionists; others had become separated from their comrades and were even now being hunted down and destroyed by the infuriated followers of Marlanx. A hundred or more of the reserves reached the upper gates before it occurred to the enemy to blockade the streets in that neighbourhood. General Braze, with a few of his men, bloody and heartsick, was the last of the little army to reach safety in the Castle grounds, coming up by way of the lower gates from the fortress, which they had tried to reach after the first outbreak, but had found themselves forestalled.

The fortress, with all guns, stores and ammunition, was in the hands of the Iron Count and his cohorts.

Baron Dangloss had been taken prisoner with a whole platoon of fighting constables. This was the last appalling bit of news to reach the horrified, disorganised forces in the Castle grounds.

Citizens had fled to their homes, unmolested. The streets were empty, save for the armed minions of the Iron Count. They rushed hither and thither in violent detachments, seeking out the men in uniform, yelling and shooting like unmanageable savages.

Before two o'clock the city itself was in the hands of the hated enemy of the Crown. He and his aliens, malefactors and all, were in complete control of the fortress, the gates and approaches, the Tower and the bloody streets. A thousand of them,—eager, yelling ruffians,—marched to within firing distance of the Castle walls and held every approach against reinforcements. Except for the failure to destroy the Prince and his counsellors, the daring, unspeakable plans of Count Marlanx had been attended by the most horrifying results. He was master. There was no question as to that. The few hundred souls in the Castle grounds were like rats in a trap.

A wise as well as a cruel man was Marlanx. He lost no time in issuing a manifesto to the stunned, demoralised citizens of Edelweiss. Scores of criers went through the streets during the long, wretched afternoon, announcing to the populace that Count Marlanx had established himself as dictator and military governor of the principality—pending the abdication of the Prince and the beginning of a new and substantial regime. All citizens were commanded to recognise the authority of the dictator; none except those who disobeyed or resented this authority would be molested. Traffic would be resumed on the following Monday. Tradespeople and artisans were commanded to resume their occupations under penalty of extreme punishment in case of refusal. These and many other edicts were issued from Marlanx's temporary headquarters in the Plaza—almost at the foot of the still veiled monument of the beloved Princess Yetive.

Toward evening, after many consultations and countless reports, Marlanx removed his headquarters to the Tower. He had fondly hoped to be in the Castle long before this. His rage and disappointment over the stupid miscarriage of plans left no room for conjecture as to the actual state of his feelings. For hours he had raved like a madman. Every soldier who fell into his hands was shot down like a dog.