“I shall want it, two nights from this, in case Madame the duchess does not conquer the Englishman. I shall want two fellows who will ask no questions, but who will follow my instructions to the letter. It is an abduction.”
“A nasty business,” was Stuler's comment. “You have women to thank for your present occupation, Johann.”
“Stuler, you are a fool. It is not a woman; it is a crown.”
“Eh?” Stuler's eyes bulged.
“A crown. The duchess may remain a duchess. Who is master in Bleiberg to-day? At whose word the army moves or stands? At whose word the Osians fall or reign? On whom does the duchess rely? Who is king in deed, if not in fact? Who will find means to liquidate the kingdom's indebtedness, whoever may be the creditor? Pah! the princess may marry, but the groom will not be Prince Frederick. The man she will marry will be the husband of a queen, and he will be a king behind a woman's skirts. It is what the French call a coup d'etat. She will be glad to marry; there is no alternative. She will submit, if only that her father may die in peace.”
“And this king?” in a whisper.
“You are old, Stuler; you remember many things of the past. Do you recollect a prince of a noble Austrian house by the name of Walmoden, once an aide to the emperor, who was cashiered from the army and exiled for corresponding with France?”
Stuler's hand shook as he brushed his forehead. “Yes, I recollect. He fought against the Prussians in the Franco-Prussian war, then disappeared, to be heard of again as living in a South American republic. But what has he to do with all this? Ah, Johann, this is deep water.”
“For those who have not learned to swim. You will aid me? A thousand crowns—two hundred pieces of gold like that which has just passed from my pocket into yours. It is politics.”
“But the sacking of the town?”