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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 14, 1922)
The Princess Dehra BY JOHN REED SCOTT. Copyright, 1909, by John Reed Scott And in the morning, monsieur, I forgot the book—forgot it un til his majesty had gone to the c,ity.—Then, in desperation, I tried every key I could find— tried to pick the lock—in vain. . ... 1 knew the Archduke Ar Tnaml was to dine here that eve ning, and from what the king said to the princess I knew, also, the book would have to be in the box before then. I felt, however, that I would have a good chance at the key when my master dressed for dinner. Then, my lord, came the awful news of his death ,and once again I forgot the hook—nor ever thought of it, until I saw the council gather— and then-” he threw up his hand, expressively. "And, now, what were you about to do” asked Lotzen. "Put the book in the box, Jnonsieur, and return it to its place in the vault.” The duke looked at him in sur prise. "Clever, clever, indeed,” he muttered.”1 thought you gave the key to her high ness. ’ ’ Adolph smiled—his spirit was never long in travail. "I did, monsieur—I didn’t need it;— and it was a' good play to give it up at once. Never having had the key to the box, it could not be I who replaced the book.” Lotzen studied the little valet ft bit. “Clever,'’ he repeaed, “clev er ... . quite too clever, I fear.’’ lie ieancd across and tried the closed lid of the box; it lifted to his hand—and out on the desk dropped the little square of folded paper that had held the lock just out of catch. Altogether, too clever, ” he concluded, picking it up and looking at it.. “1 fixed that in the council chamber,” Adolph explained; then he stared knowingly at the duke—“monsieur was behind the curtain when I brought back the box.” Decidedly, this fellow was not to Lotzcn’s liking, lie made no reply beyond a quick, sidelong glance, drumming with his fin ger tips softly on his knees. Then he turned to the desk and tapped the book of laws. “You read this, 1 suppose, Adolph?” he remarked indiffer ently. “King Frederick’s, you mean? —yes, my lord, 1 did; but that is all—1 had no time to read more.” The duke nodded, his eyes on the book. The valet was becoming un easy; he fidgeted in Ids chair, locked and unlocked his hands, listened toward all the doors. “My lord” he said, at length, “wo may be found here!” Lot/.en closed the hook. “True, Adolph, true,” he answered, get ting up and stepping back. “Put the laws iu the box don’t let it lock.” The valet sprang to obey-} and ns he leaned across the desk—■ his hack to the duke and dropped the book into 1 he box, Ferdinand of Lot/.en whipped out his sword, and with the sure hand of the skilled fender, drove ’the rapier-like blade through the man’s heart. Without cry or stuggle, Adolpli sank forward; and the box locked, as the lid fell under him. For a moment, the duke held the body with his sword; then lie slowly drew out the blade and wiped it on his hankerehiof; 'while the dead man slipped from the desk and crumpled on the floor. Ijotzcn looked down at him and shrugged his shoulders. *‘Yjm noor fool,” lie muttered - • wiiy aid you read what didn’t concern you!” . . . lie stooped I and turned the body on its i’aee. “No blood!—a neat thrust, truly.” He know the room overlooked the king’s private gardens, and, going to a window, he cautiously raised the sash. It was as he had thought: —below was a thick hedge of box wood, that grew to within a foot of the palace wall, which at that point was blank. Fortune was still his friend, it seemed; and, with a smile, he carried the valet’s body to the window and—after a quick sur vey of the garden to assure that no one was in sight balanced it an instant on the casement, then dropped it behind the hedge. Drawing down the window he re arranged the curtains and re turned to tho desk. 5* “Damnation!” he exclaimed, as his eyes fell upon the box— “Locked 1--the fool must have fallen on it.” He stood looking at it, frown ing in indecision. He hand in tended to take the book with him, trusting to conceal it under his short cavalry cape—but the box was impossible; not only was it considerably larger than the laws, but its wegiht was amaz ing for its size. . . . Then he saw the open vault, and what to do was plain—he would follow the valet’s plan. None now would look in the box, and, for a time, the book would be safer there than with him; later, ho could arrange to get it—he knew the combination.He laughed cynically—it was a pret ty game, and the pleasanter be cause it would be played directly under the American’s eye. He carried the box into the vault, closed and locked the door, and, returning to the desk, put in place the papers disarranged by the valet’s fall. Among them lay the blotter that had been In the book of laws. He studied it a moment . . . made as though to tear it ... then folded it and put it in the inside pocket of his jacket. A last glance around the room assured him that everything was as he had found it. With a satisfied smile, he turned toward the corridor door, and his eyes rested on the portrait of his fate Majesty. He stopped, and the smile changed to a sneer, and doffing his cap he bowed mockingly. “My thanks, Sire, for dying so opportunely,” he said; “may the devil keep you.” CHAPTER VII. The Armistice of Mourning. And so Fredrick the fourth of Valeria slept with his fathers, and Dehra, his daughter, ruled, as regent, in his stead. In the great crypt of the Cath edral. among the other Dalbergs, they had laid him away, with all the pomp and circumstance that befit a king—within, the gorg eous uniforms and vestments, the chanting priests, the floating in cense; without, the boom of can non, the toll of bells, the solemn music of the bands, the click of hoofs, the rumble of the caissons, the tramp of many feet. When it was all done, the visit ing princes buried away, the governmental machinery sped on, the capital took tip its usual routine, and all that remained externally to remind the people of a ruler just and righteous, were the draped buildings and the crape upon the troops. And, at the dead’s own express behest, even these had vanished on the fifteenth day after his demise. “Let the period of mourning be limited strictly to a fortnight, both for the Nation* and my House,” he had written, in his own hand, as a codicil to his tes tament; and the Regent, with no shade of hesitation, had ordered it as hi1 wished. She knew it was Frederick’s last kindness to his subjects. A court in sackcloth buries the capital in ashes, drives the tradesmen into insolvency, and bores the nobilitv well nigh into insanity or revolt. And as she ordered, so she did—though sadly and regretful ly—and with a blessing upon her, the court resumed its accus tomed life and garb, and Dorn litz its gayety and pleasures. Yet Valeria was sorry enough at Frederick’s demise—sorrier far than he would have believed it could be. At the best, a king is of use, these days, only as a head for the Government—and when the new head is capable and pop ular, the old one is not missed for long. As it was, the people had scar cely relized that Frederick was dead when they were met with the amazing proclamation of Dehra’s regency; with the result that usually follows when sorrow and joy mingle, with joy ming ling last. In the interval, there had been no developments as to the book of laws. The Duke of Lotzen had observed the very strictest of mourning; not transgressing, in tlie slightest particular, the most trivial cannon of propriety. 11# had remained practically seclud ed in his residence on the Alta Avenue, appearing in public only at intervals. He had paid his brief visit of condolence to the Princess and had been greeted by her with calm ami formal dig nity. He had made his call of ceremony upon the Governor of Dornlitz—the Archduke Ar niand—and had been received 'by him in the presence of half his staff. Then, after the funeral of the dead king, he had settled down to wait the termination of the two weeks of enforced inac tivity. lie could well afford, for that long, to dally with the fu ture. So he subdued his natural indisposition to quiet and order ly living, and sternly bade Big ler and the others do likewise, telling them that the search for the laws anti the removal of the American could abide for the time. But never a word did he speak to them of having seen the book and what Frederick had written the night before he died. Sometime before midnight, of the day that Adolph, the valet, had been killed, the sergeant of the guard, in making his rounds, saw a man skulking in the priv ate garden. At the order to stand, the fellow had dashed away, and, seemingly unharmed by the shot sent after him, he leaped the low wall into the park, where among the trees and bushes, he had little difficulty in escaping. The matter was duly reported to the officer of the day and an entry made of it, but as sucn occurrences were rather frequent in the park, due sometimes to petty pilferers from the town, and sometimes to sol diers out without pass, it re ceived no special attention, be yond a cursory inspection of the locality the following morning. Two days later, Adolph’s body was discovered by a gardner.who was clipping the hedge ; and then it was remembered that the valet had not been seen since the morn ing after Frederick’s death. No one had given him a thought— in truth, no one cared anything about him. Like most of his class under such circumstances, 1 he had won the cordial hatred of every one about the court—a spoiled, impudent and lying knave. Busy with the royal fu neral, and the great crowds it brought to the cupital, the police gave the matter scant regard— the fellow was known to them as a night prowler and a fre quenter of questionable resorts, and to have had numerous es capades with married women; and the autopsy indicating he had been dead at least 36 hours, they had promptly ascribed the death to the skulker shot at by the sergeant. There was no ojhgr clue to work on, so, after a per functory search, they shrugged it over among the other unsolved. What was the use of bothering about a valet, any way! Besides, it was a case to let alone, unless special orders came from higher powers. So they saw to it that the af fair was entirely suppressed— such happenings around royal palaces are not for the public— and the information was casu ally given out that the king’s valet was so distressed, by his royal master’s death, he found it quite impossible to remain in Dornlitz, and had returned to France. Once again, had the fickle god dess smiled upon the Duke of Lotzen, still captivated, doubt less, by the very debonairness of his villainy and. his steady gam bler’s nerve. And all unwittingly the Arch duke Armand had played directly into Lotzen’s hands. Out of con sideration for the princess, he j had insisted that they forget the I book of laws until the period of mourning were passed, and Dehra, against her better judg ment, had consented, though only upon condition that they two should first make a thorough search of her father’s apart ments, which they did the follow ing morning; she even climbing up and looking behind the large pictures—much tc Armand’s amusement; he asking what would be the king s object in concealing the book in such a place; and she retorting that, as there was no reason at all for concealing it, the unreasonable place was the most likely. And in that she was very right; for the box itself was now the most unreasonable place, yet even her woman’s fancy stopped short of it. The period of official mourn ing expired on the 20th, and on the 21at, the princess telephoned to the archduke to ride out to the palace for lunchean that day, ami to bring the American am bassador with him—unless Mr. Courtney would object to being with Helen Radnor—and that the day being very warm they would be served under the trees near the sun dial, below the mar ble terrace—-end that he and Courtney should join them there —and that Helen was with her now. And Armand had laughed and readily promised for them both. As he hung up the receiver, Colonel Bernheim stood in the doorway, and he nodded for him to come in. Bernheim saluted and crossing to the desk put down a small package, about as large as one’s fist. “My lord,” he said, “here is the steel vest.” The archduke leaned back and laughed. “You say that as naturally as though it were my cap or gloves,” he commented. “And why not, sir—Ferdinand of Lotzen is in Dornlitz, and the truce is ended.” “The truce?” “The truce of mourning—you were quite safe so long as it lasted; Moore and I made sure of that.” 1 “Really, colonel, you surprise me,” said Armand. “.How did you make sure?” “By having some one buy Big ler plenty of wine, at the club— and then putting together stray words he let slip.” The archduke shook his head in mock reproof. i ou and Moore are a won derful pair,” he said. “You think for me more than I think for myself.” A smile touched Bernheim’s stern mouth and impassive face. “We need to, your highness,” he answered. “You don’t think at all; you leave it to Lotzen.” He pushed the package a little nearer—“You will wear it, my lord?” Armand took it, and, cutting the wrapper, shook out the won derful steel vest, that had saved his life at the Vierle Masque when, from across the hedge, the assassin's dagger had sought his heart. It was, truly, a marvel lous bit of craftsmanship; pliable as silk and scarcely more bulky, the tiny steel links so cunningly joined they had the appearance of dark gray cloth. He bent and twisted it in admiring contemp lation. Verily, those armorers of old Milan understood their art —never could modern hand have forged and knit so perfect a gar ment. He found the mark on the back where the bravo’s weapon struck —only a scratch, so faint it was almost indistinguishable, yet the blow had sent him plung ing on his face. “It served you well that night,” said Bemheim. The archduke smiled. “And as its owner always does;” he smiled—and the old aide bowed —“but there is no Masque to night.” “Every night, now, is a Masque for Lotzen—and every day, too.” “Heaven man! you wouldn’t have me wear this constantly?” “No—not in bed;” then seri ously—“but at all other times, sir.” Armand pushed the vest back on the desk and frowned. “Has it come to this, then— that my life isn’t safe here—nor in my house, nor on the street! Is this civilization or savagery?” Bernheim shrugged his shoul ders. “Neither” he said, “neither— it’s hell. It’s always hell where Lotzen plays. Surely, sir, you have not forgot the past.” “No—no—but that was a Masque, and assassination went with the costumes and the atmos phere; yet now, in Dornlitz of the 20th century—I can’t bring myself to believe .... why don’t you threaten me with poi son or a bomb?” “Poison is possible, but not a bomb—it is not neat enough for Lotzen.” Armand looked at him in puz zled amusement. “I see,” he said, “I see—he murders artistically—he doesn’t like a mess.” “Just so, sir; and the most artistic and least messy is a neat hole through the heart. You will wear the vest, my lord?” The archduke’s glance wan dered to the window—electric cars were speeding down the ave nue—an automobile whizzed by —and another—and another. “Look,” said he, “look! isn’t at absurd to talk of stee lvests!” Berheim shook his head. “Lot zen does not belong yonder—he is a remnant of the middle ages.” “Well, I’m not; so no armor for me, my dear Bernheim—I’ll keep my eyes open and take my chances. I don’t believe the crown of Valeria will be the re ward of an assassin.” Disappointment shoue in the aide’s eyes. “I’m something of a fatalist, myself, sir,” he said, “but I wouldn’t play with a tiger after 1 had goaded him to fury.” Arinand smiled. “The case isn’t exactly parallel.” “No—not exactly:—the tiger might not kill me.”_ (To Be Continue^ Next Week; Why Bake At Home when you can buy bread like it, ready baked? C)UNT the raisins — at least eight big, plump, tender fruit-meats to the slice. Taste it—see how the rai sin flavor permeates the bread. No need to bake at home when we’ve arranged with bakers in almost every town and city to bake this full fruited raisin bread. Just ’phone and they’ll de liver it—all ready to sur prise the family tonight. .It comes from master bak ers’ modern ovens in you# city. And it’s made with Sun-Maid Raisins. That’s another reason for its superiority. 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