“It’s a pity you may not—it’s what he would do to you, if he could—but that’s not our way; we’re civilized ... to a certain point. But what you may do is to take every precaution against him; and then, if you get the chance in fair justification, kill him as unconcernedly as he would kill you.”
The Archduke sat silent, his cigar between his teeth, the smoke floating in a thin strand across his face, his eyes upon the desk before him.
“Of course, my boy,” Courtney went on, after a pause, “I assume you are in the game to the end, and in to win. If you’re not, the whole matter is easy of adjustment—renounce the Crown and marry the Princess ... and live somewhere beyond the borders of Valeria—come back to America, indeed; I’ll see that you have again your commission in the Engineer’s——”
Armand’s lips closed a bit tighter on his cigar, his fingers began to play upon the chair-arm, and his glance shifted for an instant to the other’s face, then back to the desk. And Courtney read his mind and pressed on to clinch the purpose.
“But if you’re in to win—and it’s your duty to your friends to win; it’s your duty to your friends to win, I repeat—your first obligation is to keep alive; a dead archduke is of no earthly use in the king business we have in hand. You may go straight to Glory, but that won’t help out the poor devils you leave here in Lotzen’s clutches, and who have been true to you, never doubting that you would be true to them. Your life belongs to them, now; and you have no right to fritter it away in silly, stubborn recklessness.... There, I’ve spoken my mind, and quite too frankly, may be; but I’ll promise never to bother you again. After all, it’s for you to decide—not for a meddling friend.”
The Archduke smiled. “And just to prove that the friend isn’t meddling, I shall accept his advice—bearing in mind, however, that this is particularly an exigency where prudence must be subordinate to daring. Prudence is all very well in the abstract, but it is more dangerous to our success than recklessness. I’m playing for a Crown and a Nation’s favor—let my personal courage be questioned for an instant, and the game is lost as surely as though I were dead. As for my dear cousin of Lotzen, I assure you I’ve not the least scruple about killing him, under proper opportunity. In fact, I’m inclined to think I should rather enjoy it. I admit now that there have been times when I regret I didn’t run him through at the Vierle Masque.”
Courtney nodded. “It would have saved you all this trouble—I wanted to call to you to make an end of him.”
“I can’t do murder; I had disarmed him. Next time, I’ll make a different play.”
“There won’t be a next time, if the Duke has the choosing. He isn’t the sort to seek death, and he knows you are his master. You’ll have to kill him in a melée, or manœuvre him into a position where he has no option but to fight.”
“He is manœuvring himself into a position where he will have to contend with a far more formidable blade than mine.”