So Ludwig kept his own counsel, blowing neither hot nor cold upon the project, and quietly made preparations for a solitary hunting excursion. The King, his uncle, protested, but could not well deny his heir a month’s respite. After all, it would perhaps be no bad thing to show Chancellor Rollmar that they on their side were not exactly jumping at his proposal.
But on the eve of his departure Ludwig heard something which induced him to make some change in the necessary baggage prepared for the expedition. He set out on the appointed day towards the great forest where the sport lay, but it was to pass through that wild district with little harm to fur or feather. He had heard something of the Princess, his intended bride, something which excited his imagination and raised his curiosity into a desire to verify it. So as simple Lieutenant Ludovic von Bertheim he came to Waldenthor, his whereabouts being known to no one but his friend Anton de Gayl, and there, in pursuance of his design, saw the Princess, then by a lucky chance, as has been related, met her in as romantic a fashion as could be desired. But from that moment he had gradually created a situation where the physical danger of remaining was outweighed by the moral risk of withdrawing, and every day the difficulty intensified; until now, when an unlooked-for crisis had suddenly arisen, his position had become almost untenable. However, as an expedient from this, he, with characteristic boldness, determined on a desperate course of action.
Every shred of the innate chivalry which was his in so large a measure forbade him to allow the Princess to be carried off for his sake a prisoner to the Fortress of Krell while he could lift a hand to prevent it. Rollmar’s drastic measure could have been easily obviated had Ludwig still been in the position he had occupied hitherto. As heir to the throne of Drax-Beroldstein, and the object of the Chancellor’s darling plan, he would have had but to declare himself, share the secret of his incognito with the Minister, when all would have been easy, and the romance of the wooing might have continued till Ruperta’s enlightenment was no longer to be dreaded. But now? What would his reception be by that astute old opportunist? Already, no doubt, on the news he had just received, he was substituting Ferdinand for Ludwig as Princess Ruperta’s bridegroom. Was not the old fox capable even of making things certain and saving possible trouble by continuing to mark him down for destruction, perhaps now with still greater zeal? No; that course, a few hours before so simple, was now ineffective. The bolder and desperate plan must be resorted to no longer for the sake of romance, but from sheer necessity.
Accordingly Captain von Ompertz, much to his satisfaction, was taken into counsel, and a very workable scheme the soldier of fortune had to submit.
At night-fall Ludovic and he made their way secretly into the park and across to the wing of the palace which contained the Princess’s apartments, De Gayl having been left in charge of the travelling carriage outside the park wall. As they approached the palace, Ompertz stopped with a warning gesture and pointed to a figure, just discernible, standing in the shadow of the wall below the Princess’s windows. “The old fox has set a guard,” he whispered. “I must try impudence to get rid of him, and, if that fails, cold steel. Ugh! Let’s hope that won’t be needed; it makes me sick to draw in cold blood. Stay here, and for her Highness’s sake, do not let him smoke you.”
He had begun to go forward now, striding boldly towards the sentinel who, as he drew near, challenged him.
“It is all right, friend,” he replied with easy assurance. “You know Captain von Ompertz. I have come by his Excellency’s orders to relieve you.”
“To relieve me?” the guard repeated dubiously.
“Certainly,” Ompertz returned boldly, cleverly refraining from explanations in favour of plausible bluffness. “Chancellor’s orders. Is not that enough? If you want reasons, why, you’ll find him at home yonder, and can go and ask him, which is more than I care to do.”
“Oh, I’m content enough,” the other returned, with a gruff laugh. “If you are ordered to relieve me, so much the better night’s rest. Good evening.”