Chapter VII: Part 7

Right across the whole width, which at the greatest was some three miles, were strewn immense boulders, some singly, others arranged in heaps for some hundred yards, only in the centre was there a space of about half a mile free from them. Instead of the boulders a narrow stream ran across. It was a stream which watered the plains round Yungben, twisting and winding in a most weird fashion. In time of rain, it sometimes flooded the fields around, but now it ran steadily and calmly, little dreaming, if streams can dream, of the horrible sights it was to see before many hours had passed, or of the dead bodies of man and beast with which its clear waters were to be choked.

In order to make this break as impregnable as I could, without showing any great signs, I had constructed a low, barbed wire entanglement on the Yungben side of the stream; this entanglement, although low, was fifty yards wide; behind that again, I had rifle pits dug, but instead of banking up the earth it was scattered over the ground. Besides this I had placed a battery of horse artillery on either flank, while the line of boulders was also guarded with entanglements and maxims; altogether we had some three thousand troops guarding that spot. The guns, and the men, were concealed behind bushes and small trees, as well as the masses of rock, some hundred men only being on view.

Against this defence, there were some five thousand of the enemy. Relying upon the reports of their scouts, who had been misled by the small number of our men to be seen, their cavalry swept forward. They were too far from their supports, their artillery was unable to come into action, on account of their forward movement. They swept on blindly, trusting to sweep away the little force opposed to them. Our men opened fire at two thousand yards, they did some damage but not enough even to make them think; they rode on and on, the nearer they got, the more men they lost.

They were within one hundred yards of the stream, when the rest of our infantry came into action. It must have been appalling, although even then they struggled to get to close quarters, but the stream held them, the entanglements held them, and all the while death was poured from the barrels of our rifles and maxim guns; what was left of them turned and fled. Their artillery opened, but, before they could get the range, our batteries replied, and we had our ranges marked. They retired. It will never be known how many men they lost, for the remnant of that force was engulfed in the ruin that had overtaken the main bodies.

Our right wing advanced, joining the two thousand men who had been posted on the Villatov road. General von Brote massed his guns and men on the Karena road; our left advanced. He hurled regiment after regiment at our front, they were mown down by the hundred. As night fell he retreated to Viritz, and our whole line advanced. His cavalry on the left wing, at Nardal, were called in. There they rested for the night, but with earliest dawn our attack commenced. Hemmed in on all sides, they fought like lions, but it was unavailing. Then they tried to retreat still farther, and Quarovitch held them. It was the end. Without a single chance of success, they fought on, although three times I sent a white flag with a message to Brote, asking him to refrain from further useless bloodshed. He was resolved to die rather than surrender. He did die, and then what was left of his army threw down their weapons.

Of the thirty-five thousand men who had entered Rudarlia through Melanov, only seventeen thousand surrendered, the rest had been killed, wounded, or were already prisoners.

Their surprise, to which they had evidently looked to end the war quickly, had failed utterly. Our northern frontier was now safe, and I could throw most of our men to the relief of Avilinoff. We had lost altogether some four thousand men in killed and wounded. I left eleven thousand to clear up the scattered Bornians, and guard the frontier and prisoners, the other twenty-five thousand I hurried south. Many of them had not been in the firing line at all, so they were perfectly fresh, and brim-full of enthusiasm and eagerness to come to grips with the foe.

In order to avoid any delay--which would have been almost inevitable had we returned through Karena--I, with my aides, motored through Romlitz to Agrade. There I stayed for only one day. Scutane was delighted to hear that the extra troops were on the way down, as he said that Avilinoff had been rather hard pressed at Milova, but that now he was in a good position to defend that place. Accordingly, I left for Avilinoff's head-quarters immediately.

It was evident that the enemy had counted on the success of their northern attack, as they had not hastened, rather luckily for us, for Avilinoff's army was sadly outnumbered, both in men and guns.

He had done grand work, his retreats were as orderly as parades, which spoke well for the troops under his command. I found that his army had occupied a strong position extending from Nadir on the left, to Pinofska on the right. So far, not a single Bornian had managed to cross the Loina. Now, however, when the news from the north became known, there was new vigour put into both armies. The Bornians at once realised that their dawdling methods would not succeed, and, also, they were spurred to try and blot out the disaster at Viritz.

The Rudarlians, in their turn, were more resolved than ever to beat back their enemy; success dispelled all the bad effects of a tedious retreat.

Success was an excellent tonic, yet it could not equalise the opposing forces, although every day saw that inequality grow less, as trainload after trainload of fresh troops poured into Agrade and Milova; but the greatest thing for us was the fact that the artillery became more of a strength.

For four days the position underwent no change, in spite of some vigorous attacks, both by night and day. On the fifth day we lost Nadir, through a brilliant flanking attack of the enemy's cavalry. There is no doubt that we were completely surprised, as we had never believed for one minute that they would have attempted the road from Alzar to Drenda, with any considerable force. Our troops, guarding the narrow road through the hills south-east of Nadir, were easily disposed of and taken in the rear; Nadir became untenable. We fell back to Lortrun, a move which considerably weakened our left wing, by lengthening it. However, it now rested safely at the extreme end, for our rear was guarded by the Drenda marshes, across which I knew it was impossible to move troops.

Our position was not satisfactory, so I sent word to Quarovitch to bring every available man to Agrade. By this time the north was quiet and he brought six thousand with him. Two thousand of these were cavalry. The same night that he arrived, he came to meet me, and, with Avilinoff, we worked for some hours on a scheme which I had thought of.

We strengthened our left wing with some twenty thousand men, some straight from Agrade to Vilt, the others, by way of Roltov across the Loina to Lortrun. Five thousand men were sent to hold Butrem and the road to Milova; while another five thousand were dispatched to strengthen the right flank, and entrench from Trun to Atar, and from Trun to the mountains on the west of Pinofska.

While these movements were being carried out, the Bornians were by no means idle, but pushed their attacks strongly. More than once it seemed that our line would be pierced, but, thanks to our artillery, which prevented them from crossing the Loina, we managed to hold our ground.

The fierceness of their attack really stood us in good stead, for it enabled us to carry out our plans without showing our hand.

Under the guise of a forced retirement, we drew back to the new lines we had prepared. From the mountains by Pinofska our line ran in a double curve to Butrem; there it stopped, and both sides of the Loina were left undefended as far as Vilt, from whence our line ran to Lortrun.

Imagining that we were in retreat, and seeking to cut in behind Milova, they hurled their forces across and straddled the Loina; in this way, they, in their turn split their line, but not to their advantage, for in order to advance on the northern bank they were obliged to mass their troops in a narrow strip of land, not wide enough for them to manoeuvre in properly.

When they had crossed, and were engaged in a fierce attack on Vilt, our forces moved out from Lortrun. By sheer weight of numbers we regained Nadir and the Drenda road.

We entrenched ourselves well along the Nadir-Vilt road, and for two days repulsed every attack made by the Bornians. Then, when they had exhausted themselves in vain, we in our turn advanced, doubling their right wing back upon itself, by a series of brilliant bayonet charges, which drove them headlong from their trenches. Then, while they were in disorder, our cavalry got to work. I had collected a large force in Nadir, and fresh, with high spirits, they were irresistible, sweeping all before them. At the same time, we allowed Pinofska to go, retiring eastward to defend Agrade and leaving open the road to Kelbna.

It was apparently too tempting a bait to be refused, and they weakened their centre to reinforce their left. It was only owing to this that we dared to drive their right in the way we did, and that was eminently satisfactory; for, driven back on themselves in hopeless confusion, they united with their other forces south of Butrem, not in a strong line capable of defence, but in an indescribable state of tangle. In many places along the Loina, their forces would be trying to cross the river at the same time, but in different directions. We drove them from Farnov, and then the remnant of their right wing fell back to try and defend their communications with Lorif.

We captured a tremendous mass of war material, guns and prisoners, as it was impossible, owing to the rapidity of our movements, for the forces on the northern bank of the Loina to recross and get away in time.

The crumpling of their right wing necessitated the drawing in of their left, so they did not progress far beyond Pinofska; and little by little we drove them back from there until we reoccupied our old lines across the Kelbna road.

We now had an undoubted superiority in all arms, as well as a greater number of men; but, try how we would, for some days we could not make any real progress beyond the Pinofska-Trun-Farnov line.

Each day I rode or motored along this line to hold conversations with the different generals, and to encourage the wounded; the actual fighting men did not need encouragement, they were brim-full of zeal and confidence.

It was during this period that I was delivered from that enemy of mine, Prince Alexis.

Between Trun and Atar the road is of an intensely beautiful nature, presenting many different kinds of scenery, well wooded in places, with gentle slopes running down to small streams which feed the Loina, while always to the north rose the mountains. The road itself rises and falls with delightful frequency, from an artistic point of view, although I doubt if the farmers who live in the vicinity, or their horses, really appreciate it. On the top of one of these inclines the road was bisected by a cart track, and in order to obtain a view over the surrounding country I had turned off along this track, accompanied by Woolgast, Scutane, and some dozen troopers.

It was soon after daybreak, and we were returning from Pinofska, where I had slept the night before. I do not know quite how it happened, but, on attempting to retrace our steps, we discovered that our way was blocked by some fifty of the enemy's cavalry. It was extremely lucky for us that we saw them before they saw us, for it gave us time to get speed on our horses. To charge was the only thing for us to do, and we struck them hard; in a few seconds we were through them, all save two of the troopers who had been shot down. We raced for the road, with the Bornians hard at our heels. We could hear from their cries, that they knew I was of the party and it made them redouble their efforts to overtake us; they kept up a fusillade of revolver shots, but fortunately without effect.

Our horses fairly flew along that muddy track, but, quickly as we went, the Bornians were as quick, and as we turned into the Trun road they were a very little way behind. In their eagerness to capture me, they must have forgotten that all the time we were approaching our lines, for they never slackened their pace, and in consequence ran into the arms of a regiment of Rudarlian cavalry at the foot of the hill.

It was over very quickly, they had the discretion to surrender at once, with one exception. This one had, either through his horse, or for other reasons, ridden well behind his comrades, but he could not hope to escape by turning back up the hill, so instead, he made a dash for liberty, by jumping the bank which bordered the road towards the enemy's lines. I heard Woolgast give a grunt, and the next moment he had followed.

I sprang from my horse and stood on the higher ground looking after him. The ground over which he was riding sloped gently down to a stream below, on the other side of which the ground rose again and was well wooded, not with big trees, but small brushwood. Woolgast was at full charge after the flying Bornian, it was a magnificent sight to see the two horses stretching out, the one flying, the other in pursuit. The pursued turned in his saddle and fired, Woolgast swerved a little but kept on, ever drawing nearer. Some three lengths from the stream, he overtook the Bornian; we saw his sword flash once, and the enemy dropped from his horse. Then Woolgast, unable to stop his, urged him to the jump, and, slowly returning, jumped the stream again, and alighted. He walked up to the Bornian's body--which made a light blue patch among the stubble--and then reeled suddenly over on to the top of him.

He was not seriously hurt, thank God, but simply in a faint. When we turned the dead Bornian, so that we could see his face--it was Prince Alexis.

I confess that I felt relief at his death, he was so degraded that there was nothing he would not have stooped to do. I might have felt sorrow at the death of an ordinary enemy, but in the case of Alexis, no--simply relief.

Woolgast was evidently disturbed in his mind as to the consequence of his action, for he sent me word that he craved an audience.

He was in a state of feverish excitement, for the wound, although not severe, was a painful one.

"Well, General?" I said.

"There is something I wish to tell your Majesty. It is this: I called to the Prince to surrender, before and after he shot me."

"Quite so, General, and you did right; you also did right in cutting him down when he refused. You did both Rudarlia and myself a good service in killing him."

He heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thank God, your Majesty, I did not know----"

"What I should feel about it? Well, you know now, and can sleep in peace; but be quick in recovering, for I need you."

I had become genuinely fond of Woolgast. He was a man whom I had a great admiration for; and, seeing that he was generally near me, I had a good many opportunities of discovering his worth. I know that he was devoted to me.

To return to the main battle. For a week or more the fighting continued without advantage to either side, at least, neither the Bornians nor ourselves were able to say that we had definitely advanced our lines. There could be no doubt, however, that our artillery did much damage, although not sufficient to allow us to assault their positions.

It was necessary that we should break through their line somewhere, but the difficult question was where and how to do it.

We had smashed their right flank by stratagem; we had split our force in two to do this. We would now do the same thing on our right, that is to say we would give up the bridge of Atar.

I had explained thus far to the generals, when General von Scutane said:

"But, your Majesty, they will not bite twice at the same bait."

"I should be sorry if they did, General, for it would not be what I wish. I believe that they will think that we intend to advance our flanks. I am trusting to them weakening their centre, for I intend to strike hard for Villet."

"Then you propose to hold the Kelbna road from Trun through Pinofska, and then from Blanne to Farnov?"

"That is my idea; and, in order to confirm them in the opinion that we intend flanking movements, we will move troops from Milova to Trun and Farnov by day, and move them back again at night. We must do everything we can to strengthen their belief that we wish to repeat the plan which succeeded so well on our left. If necessary, our flanks must fall back."

"It is a scheme full of danger, your Majesty."

"And also full of possibilities."

"Yes, your Majesty, of defeat as well as of success."

"That I refuse to consider, although we will take all precautions against such a thing. However, I do not press my scheme if anyone can suggest a better. You must remember that time is flying and the Bornians can bring two recruits to our one, while their line of communications from Ruln is not long, and so they have not very great difficulties in regard to transport."

That was the stratagem adopted, and the movements of our troops for the next two days puzzled even our own men. There is no doubt that the enemy were puzzled too, but they took the situation in the way that we wished.

We decided not to evacuate Atar, which--as I had foreseen--they did not bite at.

When both our flanks were hotly engaged, our forward movement in the centre began. It was a costly effort, but it succeeded.

We got them on the run and kept them so, driving a wedge right through the centre of their line towards Villet. It was their left wing which suffered this time from the Loina--that was a fateful river for them. We drove them out of Villet itself, and then began the most terrible struggle of the war, for that small town was life or death to them. Three times they took it, and as many times we drove them out again, each time with greater ease, for every hour saw our position improve, as we concentrated our artillery. Then they found that Villet was lost to them for ever; it was a fact that they realised with difficulty.

But, once they did so, the end came quickly. Cut off from Lorif, their only way of escape back to Bornia, they surrendered in masses. The remainder of their army withdrew sullenly towards their frontier. They conducted their retreat in fairly good order.

Had we liked, we could have utterly crushed them, but we refrained from pressing too closely upon their rearguard for two reasons: we did not wish to sacrifice the lives of our troops needlessly, and the Bornians were hopelessly beaten. I daresay it was wrong not to drive them with all our might, I'm sure that the military text-books would say so, but I was only a civilian after all.

I had sent, as soon as we could spare the troops, a column into Garace, that province which had been lost to us for so long.

They met with little opposition, for the Bornian forces there were very scanty and quite without enterprise, or enthusiasm.

Before we had finished there, almost before the beaten remnant had left Lorif, Bornia sued for peace.

*CHAPTER XIV*

Bornia sued for peace; they could do nothing else, for they were hopelessly beaten both by land and sea.

Prince Kleber had been busy with the Bornians on the water, and the _Soctia_ had made a great name for herself; a large number of prizes were now in the harbour of Soctia, and she had successfully carried on a vigorous warfare with the Bornian Navy.

Prince Kleber had done much to facilitate our progress in Garace, especially at Bustelov, where the Bornians were well fortified; it was largely owing to the clever co-operation of the navy that our troops occupied that place without a prolonged siege.

The only time that Rudarlian troops entered Bornia, was the day when peace was declared; then a small number escorted the signatories, for a mile, to their side of the frontier.

So completely were the Bornians beaten that, in spite of the moral support of certain great powers, they accepted our terms at once; well they might, for they were, considering, very moderate: the evacuation of Garace, and a certain sum as war indemnity were the two chief items.

We had no wish to exasperate a badly beaten enemy; nor did we wish to claim territorial aggrandisement beyond the recovery of our one-time province of Garace.

It has always seemed to me to be bad policy to demand too much from a beaten adversary, excepting when that enemy is dangerous to the peace of the world, or, indeed, of your nation; for, unless the necessity is great, a beaten opponent should be treated with consideration. But there are cases, no doubt, when it is expedient to destroy completely a nation's power to do harm in the future.

It seemed that, with the end of the war, a better understanding at once began between the two countries; perhaps the fighting was like the old-fashioned remedy of blood-letting.

It is impossible to describe the feelings of joy and pride with which I thought of Rudarlia and the Rudarlians; they had proved themselves so splendid, and now that the war had been carried to a successful conclusion I hoped that economic conditions would begin to improve and the prosperity of the country be assured.

I will confess to certain day-dreams in that respect, and obtained quite a lot of pleasure from them.

As soon as peace was declared, the inhabitants of Rudarlia began to show their joy; and it was overwhelming, even in the most out-of-the-way villages the poorest of the people held marvellous celebrations.

I think the most trying time of my whole life was during my visits to all parts of Rudarlia. I thought that I should never have any pleasure in speaking again, for in every corner of my country it was thought necessary to hand me addresses.

In Garace, the people were almost crazy with joy at having thrown off the Bornian bonds, and being under the Rudarlian flag again.

Although this time was, as I have said, most trying, yet it was inspiring and certainly satisfactory; I defy even the most cold-blooded person to listen to a nation's cheers, without feeling a deep glow of pleasure. I, personally, do not attempt to deny that it pleased me, for it meant that I had made good.

A great number of months passed before the nation settled down to their normal lives; and the time of the officials, from King to Mayor, was taken up in the many duties that fell upon them.

Perhaps the most hard-worked people of all were the doctors and nurses, for the hospitals were full, and I would not have any man turned away without being absolutely cured of his wounds, if such a thing were possible. Those whose wounds rendered them unfit for further military service received a plot of land, or, if they chose, a sum of money.

Then there were the honours and rewards to be settled, the various recompenses for farms and homesteads destroyed in the war, and a thousand and one things beside.

Upon Carruthers, who had been of incalculable value to us through his airwork, I bestowed the Cross of Rudarlia, an honour of which he was intensely proud, in spite of his assurances to the contrary. Much as I should have liked him to stop in Rudarlia, I did not press him when he came to bid me good-bye, for I knew that he would have his work cut out to explain matters to the authorities in England. I was convinced, however, that he would do it quite successfully, for he had a most engaging way of getting himself out of scrapes.

General von Quarovitch had received a substantial grant from the Government to enable him to uphold his new rank, for I had made him Count. He was also given a command of more importance than the frontier, and so he was often in Karena. In fact, he was now as much sought after as before he had been neglected; but he took his sudden popularity very grimly, which caused me huge enjoyment. His treatment of the fair sex was a never failing source of delight; they called him bearish, but devoted themselves to him.

I had also made Woolgast a Count, and I do not think that there were many to sneer at his new rank. He had quite recovered from the wound given him by Alexis; and was now, as usual, always at my side.

He was a man who never asked for any favour, either for himself or his family; he was as devoted to me as anyone could be, and it was his delight to accompany me in command of the escort wherever I went. I always made a point of taking an escort of my regiment of guards, for I believed the people loved to see the white and gold of their uniforms, and to know that their King rode or drove among them with regal pomp and glory. The Rudarlians, in that respect, were rather barbaric in their tastes; and yet, I am not sure that it is not a good thing to keep alive the love of show, I believe it really brightens the lives of the people, who so often live in dull monotony. I myself confess to a certain quickening of the pulses at sight of martial pomp, and also when I hear the jingling music of a cavalry regiment. There is something fine and inspiring in the sight of a number of men splendidly upright and strong, moving together as though one man, and to realise that they are prepared to give their lives for an ideal--for the love of country is nothing else. I have heard it said that an ideal will move men to acts of greater heroism than any fact; it may be so, but I always look upon an ideal as a mental fact in itself, so I can hardly argue the point.

I shall never forget the first time I dined privately after the war. There were just four of us, my mother, Prince Zeula, Mr. Neville, and myself, and we had old Bauen up to wait upon us. I wanted to feel absolutely free to say what I would without feeling that there might be one of the servants listening.

It was quite like old times, yet not so very old, only a few years, but years so full of incident that each seemed to have multiplied itself by ten. In those few years I had changed from a boy into a man, from a commoner into a king; and it may safely be surmised that such changes must have a considerable effect on anyone.

They were rich years for me to look back upon and so full of mental, and perhaps moral wealth, that I was almost fearful of their effect upon me. I was afraid that I should lose my youth before the time, that manhood's cares would sap the joy of life within me, and, by so doing, injure the power I had to feel and sympathise with the many defects in human nature.

My mother, to whom I had spoken of this, agreed that it might be so with some people, but not in my case. A remark which was so intensely human in its mother feeling, that I laughed and said no more.

This dinner _a quatre_ was very enjoyable. We seemed to forget for a while that we were really people of importance in our world, and we laughed and joked with all the old-time zest, and perhaps more; never since my accession had we been so gay and cheerful. Zeula, who seemed to grow younger each month, had a wonderful collection of anecdotes, and his wit was great.

We might have been a party on the stage playing some clever farce, for the conversation never flagged, and even I was witty, which was unusual, since I have never possessed real gifts in that line, although I have, thank God, a sense of humour.

It did me good to look at the three faces I loved so well, and listen to the conversation, noting the difference in their trends of thought.

Zeula, brilliant, polished.

Mr. Neville, dry, rather caustic.

My mother, intensely feminine.

They made, however, a very good combination, and a subject was dissected very thoroughly by the three.

Towards the end of the meal, the topics of conversation became more personal, bearing more directly on the future of Rudarlia.

It was at this point that I began to feel a rather comic uneasiness, for my instinct told me that before long some remark would lead up to the subject of my marriage, and I knew that Zeula would be responsible for it, as he was wrapped up in the subject.

I was not mistaken, for he made a remark about a King without heirs. My mother glanced at me quickly. I deliberately winked at Mr. Neville, who laughed outright.

"So, Prince," said I, "you have thrown your bomb."

"I awaited a fitting opportunity, your Majesty."

"Pray forget ceremony," murmured my mother.

"Then, Mr. Smith," said I, with a grimace, "you have given me indigestion."

"I did not ask you to bolt your food, Victor."

"Meaning?"

"That there is no particular hurry."

"For a week or two," chimed in Mr. Neville, and set us all laughing.

Although we laughed at first, it was only at first, for the question was an extremely important one, both for myself and Rudarlia. I knew that it was imperative that I should marry, and I also realised that the time had come to think seriously about it, and incidentally to find the wife.

"I understand that my position is one of some uncertainty, that you wish me to marry and have heirs, but the question which puzzles me is, who am I to marry?"

"There will not be any difficulty in that, Victor."

"And yet I do not see in which direction to look, for I can hardly hope, as King of a small kingdom like Rudarlia, to ally myself with any of the great powers."

"Perhaps you have already thought of some one; I confess that I find it difficult myself."

"Yes, I have thought of one. It will most probably come as a great surprise when you hear where I propose to look for a wife, but I have looked at the question from every point of view, and it seems to me that I had better marry a Princess of--Bornia."

As I had surmised, the suggestion surprised them; I do not think the possibility of it had once struck them. They were silent for some little time as though pondering on what I had said, only Mr. Neville looked at me quizzically, my mother and Zeula keeping their eyes turned from mine. The latter was the first to speak:

"I had not thought of that, Victor; will you tell us your reasons?"

"Oh yes, I have thought a great deal about our relations with our late foe, and it seems to me that such a marriage as I suggest would do much to remove the bitterness that there undoubtedly is between the two nations. That is my first reason. The second is, that if all the Bornian Princesses married Germans or Austrians, as the odds are they would, there would be endless friction between our nations, whereas, if I marry one of them, the influence will not be so one-sided. My third reason is not so realisable, but it may come true. It is an imaginary condition which circumstances may bring about, therefore it can hardly be looked upon as a real reason, and I was wrong to so describe it; I will, however, tell you that it was a dream which united the two kingdoms under one monarch. There is little real difference between the two races, and who knows what the future may bring forth?"

"Two of your reasons are excellent, Victor, and the third is within the range of possibilities."

"Have you seen photographs of the Bornian Princesses?" asked Mr. Neville.

"Very indifferent ones, and without knowing one from the other."

"And which do you propose offering your hand to?"

"I do not know yet, I therefore suggest that a trip to Bornia would be an admirable thing, so that I may see them first."

"Eh?"

"Yes, the week after next I propose going for a walking tour through Garace, and will visit Sonale. I shall not be known in Bornia's capital--I will shave off my moustache. I shall have a good time, ascertain the public feeling towards the said Princesses, also I shall see them."

"That sounds quite an attractive programme," said Mr. Neville, smiling. "May I ask whether it is your intention to go alone?"

"Not if I can induce you to accompany me. If you will, my mother's mind will be made easy, Prince Zeula will not insist upon a regiment in mufti accompanying me, and I--well, you know that I shall be pleased."

"I will go with the greatest pleasure."

"Then we will call it settled."

"Do you think it wise, Victor?" asked my mother.

"It may not be the essence of wisdom, yet it will give me a little feeling of romance."

Zeula laughed.

"Will you carry a lute with you to serenade the Princesses, and a shield with a flaming heart as device?"

"Make the musical instrument a lyre, it would most probably serve a fuller purpose," said I, "but I daresay you all realise and understand what I mean, and if you don't I am ashamed of you."

"Of course we do; but never forget to go out without your revolver, there is more than one Goltz in the world."

"That was a lesson I have not forgotten, nor do I wish it repeated; and, to get away from unpleasant topics, would you all like a game of bridge?"

We played two rubbers; my partner and I did not score a game.

"Remembering the old saying, you ought to be very lucky in love," said Mr. Neville.

*CHAPTER XV*

Mr. Neville and I were enjoying ourselves immensely. We were both glad to be relieved from the cares and worries of Court ceremonies; both glad of a holiday; pleased to be able to tramp through the dusty lanes, free to sleep where we would, eat and drink what and when we felt inclined.

We talked of everything while tramping, or resting, as the case might be, with the sky blue above us, or heavy with great masses of cloud; and breathed in the fresh buoyant air of the Garacian mountains, or the warmer, milder air of the valleys; and forgot, or pretended to, for a little while, that we were people who mattered.

I daresay we both talked too much; perhaps all we said was not of the wisest; but, unfettered, we chatted like schoolboys. I doubt if there was ever so perfect a companion as Mr. Neville: he seemed to know exactly the mood you were in, and to be able to broach a subject of conversation suited to it.

Of my marriage, or rather the idea of it, we spoke but little. From what I told him, he gathered that my mind was made up on the point that I must marry, and the sooner the better.

Garace was a magnificent province; and visiting it as we did gave us a very clear idea of why the Rudarlians had been so pleased at its recovery.

Wherever we went, the fields and pastures gave evidence of great fertility; they were well watered, too; but the roads were terribly bad, and one could well understand that the farmers found great difficulty in handling their produce. It struck us that the Bornians had no particular reason to boast of the way they had governed the province.

It had not been my intention to waste all the time we were on our holiday, and so Mr. Neville and I made many notes, and discussed many plans dealing with the country through which we passed. Then at night we went carefully over these, and gave them fuller discussion before finally sending them to Karena.

The Minister to whom they were sent was thankful enough for any assistance in what was rather an arduous task.

We had been ten days on our wanderings before we reached Bornia, and then by a terribly bad road over the mountains. We slept out that night, and the next day dined at Stranz, a little town two or three miles from the frontier. I should say we ate there, since the only food available was castradina--the smoked mutton which the peasants love--a coarse white cheese, and cakes or loaves of maize. Plain, very plain; food, but not a dinner.

Had we walked any distance that morning, we should no doubt have been ready to declare the eatables fit for a king; but, as it was, we had only progressed two or three miles. A delightfully mossy bank by the side of a little mountain stream had enticed us to sit and sit, and keep on sitting, or rather sprawling; hour after hour we had sat there talking and smoking, until we decided that we had lazed long enough, and sauntered down to the so-called inn. I remember we chaffed each other about want of appetite.

Having paid an exorbitant sum for a practically uneaten meal, we refilled our pipes, and went out again into the sunshine.

Stranz boasted of one street, with some two hundred houses in all; the sun, blazing down on the white walls of these, tired the eyes, especially as every movement of one's feet caused a cloud of dust to ascend. At the end of the street farthest from the inn stood the church, and I went in to say a few words to the priest and leave a small sum with him to be spent in charity.

The worthy man would, I know, have liked me to stay a while with him, to discuss everyday affairs; but it was time for us to be moving on, so I said good-bye and stepped out to Mr. Neville.

I found him staring down the road at two figures on horseback who were approaching at a good pace.

"Shall we stay and see them go past, Victor?"

"Yes, they may be interesting."

In a few minutes they passed, a lady and her groom; that was all I had time to notice, for I was more interested in the horses than their riders. They could not have been more than two lengths away from where we were standing, when from the other end of the street came a crowd of people yelling terribly. The hurricane of cries frightened the lady's horse, which reared, slipped, and came down; the groom's horse became unmanageable, got the bit between its teeth and bolted.

Through the dust we could see the crowd of men, women, and children flying towards us, and after them a single man foaming at the mouth.

"My God, he's mad!" said Mr. Neville.

The crowd scattered in every direction, some through open doorways, some even through windows, all scrambling and pushing to get out of the way of this terrible being. As he came nearer, I could see that he was dressed as a gentleman, and that he carried a rapier in his hand. A moment later he used it, for a child, terrified, ran across the road, the madman lunged in passing, and the poor little thing fell into the gutter.

We had been so amazed at the suddenness of this scene that we had remained standing where we were. The street was empty now, save for the lady who was standing horrified in the middle of the road, the fallen horse, the still, small body in the gutter, the madman, and ourselves.

Perhaps the wounding of the child had caused the madman to pause in his mad rush, for now, bent almost double, he was creeping towards the still motionless figure of the lady, who suddenly turned, and with a little scream of fear ran towards us.

Her face was white, and her two dark eyes were turned imploringly to us, as though she knew that we could save her from this awful man.

At the same moment both Mr. Neville and I jumped forward to bar his way. I carried a stout stick, Mr. Neville had none; luckily the man lunged at me, for I was enabled to turn his point with my stick. Over the madman's face there stole a look of really malevolent cunning. I believe, then, he fancied in his poor, disordered mind that he was fighting a duel.

"Careful, Victor!" I heard Mr. Neville say.

"All right, I am going to try to disarm him; be ready to seize him if I succeed."

I spoke in English, so that the man, even if he had any glimmering of reason, would in all probability not understand.

It was quite extraordinary to me that any man as mad as he could fight with so much skill; perhaps the madness lent him additional craftiness, but he must have been a fine swordsman when sane. As it was, he gave me more to do than any man I have ever fought with, and more than once came near wounding me; but I got him into the position I wanted and disarmed him, his sword flying through the window of a house near by.

As the weapon left his hand, Mr. Neville's arms were round him, and in a few seconds he was bound and helpless.

My first thought was for the child; he was not dead, but the rapier had inflicted a nasty wound in his shoulder. However, as he was in the capable hands of his mother, who evidently possessed the knowledge of how to treat wounds of the less serious nature, I turned away relieved.

I found the lady by my side, and one of the most musical voices that I have ever heard gave me thanks.

"Ah, monsieur, how can I ever thank you and your friend enough?"

I felt that I was blushing furiously--quite ridiculously--why, I have no idea, as it was not common to me. My companion told me afterwards that I stammered like a schoolboy and looked as awkward.

"Madame--mademoiselle----"

"Not both, monsieur, only the latter."

"Mademoiselle, it was nothing, there was little danger to me."

"It was the bravest deed I have ever seen, in spite of your desire to belittle it, and I thank you again."

Until now I had not really looked at her, but my mind seemed to clear suddenly, and I knew her rather than saw her. I find it hard to recall my first impressions, I realised that strictly speaking she was not beautiful, yet she was beautiful. Whether it was the expression, or subtle emanations from a beautiful soul, I cannot say, but that is what I think. I was absorbed, confused by the strength of her personality. I do not suppose it would affect all people in the same way, perhaps it answered to similar strata in my own.

It was with an effort that I returned to what had occurred, and to what she had said.

"Mademoiselle, I belittled it, as I have the advantage of being a good swordsman. My companion, who stood by unarmed, was far more worthy of commendation."

"I have already tried to thank him." She smiled, and I noticed that her teeth were adorable. "He is English, I think, and it is so difficult to thank Englishmen properly--they always seem ashamed of doing anything brave."

"That is so; but your horse, mademoiselle, is, I am afraid, in rather a bad way."

We walked over to where the animal now stood. I bent to examine the strained fetlock, while his mistress stroked his nose and talked to him encouragingly.

"It is quite impossible to ride him," I said, looking up.

"Oh dear! and it is most unlikely that there will be another horse in this place."

"But your groom, surely he will return soon?"

"I doubt it, and even if he were to, I could not ride his horse, as it is practically unbroken."

"Then," said Mr. Neville, who had rejoined us, "we must get you some kind of conveyance, unless you live within walking distance."

"The walking would be less painful, monsieur, from what I know of the carriages in this part of the country."

"You could rest here at the inn," I said.

"Could they give me something to eat, do you think?" She looked at our faces and laughed gaily. "No, that were too much to expect; then I must walk, if only for the sake of the work these good people neglect while we remain here."

There were certainly more people interested in us than the occasion merited, and there was a curious open-mouthed look about most of them.

"Mademoiselle will accept our escort?"

"Gladly, monsieur, if I do not take you out of your way."

"All ways are the same to us, save the one we shall travel in your company."

"And that will be atrocious."

"Impossible," said Mr. Neville.

"Then come; but first let me give orders about my horse, and for my groom when he returns."

It only took a few minutes to arrange these things and to gather up our belongings; and we started. I stopped for a few minutes at the house where the wounded child lay and gave his mother a coin or two to pay for necessities, as I had seen the poverty of the place. I also stopped for a moment to say a word to the priest, and ask him to look after the child. Then I rejoined the others, who had walked slowly on.

"Monsieur loves children?"

"Indeed, yes."

"Perhaps you have some of your own?"

"I am unmarried, mademoiselle."

We walked a little way in silence, I could feel my companion taking stock of me.

"Might I know the names of those to whom I am so indebted?"

"Why, of course, how stupid of me to forget--Mr. Neville, and I am Victor Stevens."

"But not English, too, surely?"

"No, I am a Rudarlian."

"Then I ought to hate you."

"Not so, since we are no longer enemies."

"Nor are we friends. Ah, I wonder whether you know to what extent this country suffers."

"In what way, mademoiselle? I thought the terms of peace were not ungenerous."

"No, indeed, they were far from that, but even so the people suffer, by the extra taxation entailed. Oh, I know that Bornia declared war, but it was the fault of a corrupt Court, not the wish of the people."

"That may be so, but still I do not see why there should be enmity between the two nations; rather should the leniency of the terms of peace augment the friendship that brave foes should have for one another. It is not as though we had demanded part of Bornia's territory, we merely regained our own province."

"I know, I know! Please don't think that we are ungrateful, but it hurts me so to think of many precious lives being lost, and so much treasure wasted to satisfy the venom of one man."

"You mean?"

"Why, Prince Alexis; it is common property that he and his clique engineered the war. He is dead, so we must speak no ill of him, but he was at the bottom of everything. I believe it was his personal hatred to King Victor which made him go to the lengths he did. But there, do not let us spoil our walk, tell me of your King; you know him, perhaps?"

"Mr. Neville has spoken to him many times," I said.

"Oh, please tell me of him; I am afraid that he is too perfect from all accounts."

"You have set me a hard task, to describe him would take too much thought for an old man, mademoiselle; but I may tell you that he is not ugly, and possesses certain good qualities."

"He is a good King, and--messieurs, you have told me your names, and courteously refrained from asking me for mine. I am Princess Irma, eldest daughter of the King of Bornia."

"Your Royal Highness has our homage and thanks," said Mr. Neville, bowing.

"Ah, please no ceremony, forget my rank, and just think of me as the girl you so bravely saved. But I had to tell you."

As for myself, I was too astonished to say a word, my longing for romance had indeed been answered with a vengeance; but it had placed me in rather a queer position, for I could not now retain my incognito with any feelings of satisfaction: it would hardly be honourable. I must tell her, of course, but it was not the thought of that which made my blood course so strongly through my veins, it was a gust of sheer delight that I had at last met one whom I could treat as an equal, who could be my companion and whom, if it was so willed, I could learn to love. My eyes swept over her perfect figure as she turned from Mr. Neville to me. Her carriage was magnificent, with the grace and dignity which became a Princess, and the womanly charm and sweetness which became her sex; her whole expression was radiant with youth and the joy of living.

"Princess, I must crave forgiveness for having deceived you. I told you my name was Victor Stevens, I am----"

"King Victor II. of Rudarlia. Your Majesty must think me strangely obtuse, to have imagined that a shaven moustache could hide his identity."

And this delightful girl went off into a peal of laughter, in which after a moment Mr. Neville and myself joined.

"Your eyes are too keen, Princess," I said.

"I knew your Majesty's face so well that I recognised you almost immediately."

"But surely we have never met before?"

"No, but I have seen your photograph many times."

"And I yours, but I did not know you."

"That is hardly to be wondered at, as the Court photographers are notorious flatterers."

"And yet you knew me?"

"Your Majesty is a much more important person than I, and therefore more easily to be remembered."

"May I ask where you are staying, Princess? There is no Royal residence near here, is there?"

"No, I am visiting the family of one of the ladies-in-waiting."

"I was wondering how far we might accompany you; for, although you have been so kind with regard to my nationality, others might be less so."

"Prince de Sagresse is one of your Majesty's admirers; he does not belong to the Court."

"Then, Princess, you have no objection to our walking as far as his gates with you?"

"It will be a pleasure to me," she said shyly. "But will not your Majesty come farther than the gates? The Prince would be highly honoured."

"I shall be delighted."

"And Mr. Neville?"

"Mr. Neville has given a great deal of his life to me, Princess, he would not now interfere with my happiness."

This sounded so like a compliment that our companion blushed slightly. I, however, did not mean it to be such, for to me it was a great delight to have some one of my own age, to whom I could talk naturally without the necessary thought that I was the King. It was an experience that was absolutely novel, and I knew that I should enjoy myself immensely. Besides which, there was the reason for my tour to be considered, and I confess to feeling very much interested in Princess Irma.