“Pardon me,” said Scharfenstein. “Captain, Monsieur Carewe, an American tourist, formerly of the United States cavalry. And a pretty shot, too, by the book! It would have gone badly with us but for him.”
“My thanks,” said the Captain, with a jerky nod. “Max, come, give me the whole story.”
And Scharfenstein dropped into a chair and recounted in picturesque diction the adventure; how they had remained by the royal carriage till the nurse, recovering from her faint, had rushed out and told them of the abduction; and the long race on the south shore. While he listened the Captain smoked thoughtfully; and when the story was done, he rose and wagged his head.
“Call it revenge,” he said, “if it strikes you in that light. Monsieur Carewe, what is your opinion?”
“It occurs to me,” answered Maurice, rubbing the scratch the late Colonel's sword had left on his chin, “it occurs to me that the man played his hand a few days too late.”
“Which is to say?”
“Well, I do not call it revenge,” Maurice admitted, unwilling to venture any theory.
“No more do I;” and the Captain began drumming on the mantel. “What say, Max; how would the illustrious Colonel look with the shadow of a crown on his head? He comes from Austria, who, to my thinking, is cognizant of all he does and has done.”
The answer was not spoken. The door, leading to the main palace through the kitchens, opened, and the Marshal, the princess, and the maid of honor came down the steps. The Captain, Max and the surgeon stood at salute. Maurice, however, drew back into the shadows at the side of the grate. The old soldier gazed down at the pale face of the young Lieutenant, and smiled kindly.
“Even the best of soldiers make mistakes,” he said; “even the best. No,” as von Mitter made an attempt to speak. “I've heard all about it, and from a most reliable source,” nodding toward the anxious maid of honor. “Colonel,” he addressed the Captain, whose eyes started at this appellation, “Colonel, you will report to me in the morning to assume your new duties. You have been a faithful Captain and a good soldier. I know your value, your name and your antecedents, which till now was more than I knew of your late predecessor. Von Mitter will take upon himself your duties as Captain of the household troop; and you, Scharfenstein, will hereafter take charge of her Royal Highness's carriage, and you may choose whom you will as your comrade.”