A prince of lovers

by Sir William Magnay

She gave a petulant shrug. “I see poor Minna will have to resume her work at the bellows. Perhaps it is best. I presume you have told Captain Rollmar that his services are dispensed with?”

“I have told my son that wind is apt to fan a spark into a dangerous flame.”

“You hear, Minna?” the Princess said to her friend who was near. “You are not in future to call young men to your assistance when I play the organ. The wind blown by a man is nothing but the breath of scandal, and our dear Baron is going to have a lock put on the door lest the works should be tampered with by our cavaliers taking sudden refuge inside.”

Meanwhile Captain von Ompertz had received instructions to keep a close watch on the chapel and the park, and especially to note all the less conventional goings and comings of the Princess and her maid. Notwithstanding this, however, Minna had, before the order had been given, found an opportunity of warning Ludovic to keep away from the palace. Had it not been for this it is likely that the Chancellor’s desired prey might, after all, have fallen into his hands that afternoon. As it was, Ludovic, though troubled and impatient, kept safely away. The message, however, was not entirely one of despair, for Minna had, on her own responsibility, added a few words to the effect that should the Princess or she think proper to write, the missive would be placed under the slab of a ruined sun-dial which stood in a remote nook of the royal park. Nearer to the palace than that point he was warned not to approach unless especially bidden. That, at any rate, was something to feed his hopes upon, and he lived in happy anticipation of what, perhaps, the next of his morning and evening visits to the old sun-dial might have in store for him.

Von Ompertz did his best to deserve his patron’s confidence, although this detective work was not exactly what he had been used to, or indeed congenial to him. Still he was a soldier of fortune, literally and figuratively, and ready to take any official work that came in his way. The pay was good, the prospects, at least as he fancied, still better; and, after all, he was serving the state, and to hire his services and his fealty to one state or another was his vocation. Yes, he told himself, he was lucky to have come so well out of a hanging matter, and must not grumble if the work which had practically earned his release was not quite such as he would have chosen. So he paraded the park, keeping a wary eye on the chapel and the private entrances to the palace, with his beloved sword, now happily restored to him, loose in its scabbard, and when the first distasteful idea had been dulled he found himself as eager to earn his pay by catching the Princess’s lover as though he were but a bravo or secret agent, and not the man of such honour as he had through a mettlesome career always striven to maintain.

His sentinel work did not, however, long remain unnoted by Countess Minna’s sharp eyes. He was, of course, easily recognized as the man whom Baron Rollmar had summoned to his aid in the chapel. Consequently the reason of his patrol was not far to seek. Whenever Minna took a stroll across the park she found herself followed by the swaggering Captain, now gallant in his dress, his better case throwing up a certain distinction in his appearance which his former rough, unkempt attire had all but effaced. It was like the restoration of an old picture; the traits of a certain nobility came out through the film gathered by years of rough usage and neglect.

But the espionage was intolerable. Minna turned upon her follower and demanded in high indignation what it meant. The Captain, taken by surprise, was gallantly deferential and apologetic. He had no idea of annoying the honoured Countess or of forcing himself upon her notice. But strange men, presumably bad characters, had been seen loitering about the royal precincts and it was his duty to keep watch and account for them.

“It is, I presume,” Minna said resentfully, “no part of your duty to follow me?”

Only as a protection and that at a most respectful distance, he assured her. It was, he ventured to point out, the honoured Countess who had accosted him, not he the noble Countess.

Minna was a pretty girl, and there was a certain wistful admiration in the Captain’s eyes as he uttered the somewhat disingenuous explanation.