“My dear General!” I cried. “There is a saying, ‘The luck of the Havenseas.’ The luck holds good. The Russian Bear shall dance, I promise you!”
“What does Your Majesty mean?”
“His Majesty knows a story, General, a pretty, ornate and most scandalous story. Ivaniski was an attaché at Berlin when my uncle was Ambassador. It will be the only good turn Uncle John has ever done me.”
For two mortal hours after a particularly disappointing breakfast—the General betrayed but an indifferent regard to cuisine—I was gracious to the peculiarly uninteresting big men of Tsalburg. I signed innumerable papers, and at a hint from the General kissed those worthy of the honor. It afforded them far more satisfaction than it did me.
At noon I mounted a black charger, and, accompanied only by the General, set out for the Plain of Liberty. Hartzel had misled—to use a euphemism—the populace as to my movements, so that it was merely at odd whiles that I was called upon to acknowledge shouts of greeting.
The Plain of Liberty is a tableland upon the hill that rises above the town. From it Tsalburg can be seen spread out in picturesque confusion. It is a big plain, and its name is derived from the presence in its centre of a huge column surmounted by a figure of Liberty. On the base of this column are inscribed the names of the more or less traditional heroes who are popularly supposed to have engineered the independence of the country. This column has become a subject of sentimental worship with the nation.
On this plain were assembled the populace of Tsalburg to witness the review of the major part of the troops of the country, some fifteen thousand. Prince Tertourgki had selected a place near the column as a saluting base, and the troops, when we arrived, were drawn up in review order. The column stood, as it were, a huge, gray sentinel between the Prince and the troops.
“Some of the officers I could trust expect you!” the General cried. “Spur on to the troops. Now is our crisis. The Baron has tampered with some of the regiments, but to what extent I cannot say. If the troops receive you Ertaria is saved.”
“Your true gambler risks all on a single throw!” I shouted, clapping spurs into my charger. It was a glorious gallop. My blood raced in my veins. My horse was maddened by the touch of the spur. I thundered on down the level turf. I saw the stir of surprise in the populace. I caught a waver of ranks as the troops craned forward to see me come. Then a flash of inspiration came to me. As I raced by the column I suddenly drew rein, flinging my horse back on his haunches. For a moment he lay crouched backward, and in that moment I had raised my sword in salute of the column. Then the charger leaped forward, and I rode to the front of the troops.
Such a shout greeted me as I have never heard before. It roared about my ears like thunder. “Long live the King!” they cried, and the populace took up the words, “Long live the King!”