The Princess Dehra
• BY JOHN REED SCOTT.
Copyright. IF)*, by John R«©d Scott
-^- -J)
“Has your royal Highness for
got tlie chambers meet this day
week, aud that the regent must
open them in person?” he asked.
“1 had forgot,” said she, “but
I shall return for it.”
Tuts count Nhrugged his shoul
ders.
^-“It is not for me to question
the regent’s movements,” he
said; “but if you will accept the
advice of one who was your fatli
ner’s friend and trusted servant,
land who ventures to think lie can,
■ui least in this instance, speak
with his dear, dead master's
voice, you will abandon this as
tonishing intention, that can
prafit nothing to his highness’
cause, ami will lead him only into
dire and awful danger.”
V *‘ \Vill there be no profit in re
covering the book?” she de
manded.
“You will not recover it in
Lotzenia.”
“The duke has it; 1 saw it last
night.”
I he count shook his head. i
feel sure that Lotzen hasn’t the
book; but if you are positive, be
yand a doubt, then formally de
mand it as regent; if he refuse,
take half the army, if need be,
am! batter down his castle and
get it.
The princess laughed. “Now,
count, you know very well that
would be the one sure way not to
get it—he would destroy it.”
“And himself with it,” said
Killing; “for then your testi
mony would be enough to convict
him,>and lose him his last chance
for election by the nobles. It
would be as effective us to find
the book itself.”
“Your plan does not please me
for two reasons,” she answered,
promptly and decisively. “It
contemplates the destruction of
the laws of the Dalbergs, which
1 would rather die than he the
cause of; and it. would permit
the house of nobles to determine
the succession to the throne, a
thing hitherto unknown, . r.d to
my poor mind subversive of the
rights of my house. What we
want is the book, and the way to
get. it. is to take it quietly and by
stealth. lienee, I was willing
that his highness should go to
Lotzenia, and 1 with him, to see
what might be done. ’ ’
“In other words,” said the
count incisively, “you deliber
ately stake the archduke Ar
niand’s life for the preservation
of the book.”
The prince s gasped, and her
face went white.
“Don’t ..ay it, my child!” the
old man exclaimed, “don't say
it!—think a moment first—and
then forgive me for having let
rny affection for you drive my
tongue too far.”
Ami instantly her anger
passed; and she went to him and
laid her hand on his, where it
rested on his sword hilt—while
th e archduke spoke quickly.
“Your e\cr'!,<?”’y does not
quite appreciate that the regent
is dealing with a very unruly sub
ject, and one who will not. coun
tenance the assault on Lotzen
castle. Neither her highness nor
myself could stand before the
nobles and affirm on honor and
unreservedly that the duke has
the book, though we think we
identified it. Hut more vital still
is the fact that 1 will not consent
to any measures which would
dr'v? .Ube duke Jo destroy the
took. I am determined to estab
lish my right to the throne by the
laws of the Dalbergs. and not to
owe it to the vote of any innn nor
pet of men. Frankly, my lord, I
care so lightly for it, that, but for
this little woman here, and to
make ,he,r the queen which by
birth she ought to be, I would
not lift a finger nor move tongue
to gain the crown. And if we are
To have it—she and 1—it must
be with all its ancient rights and
authority, imsmirched by politics
and obligations of nn election.
The old count raised his thin,
white hand—his lean face
flushed, the fine fire of a hotspur
youth glowing in his eyes.
“Go, sire!” he said, “go; and
win your crown as a Dalherg
should—and would 1 were young
enough to go with you—as it is,
1 will hold things stanch for you
here.”
CHAPTER XIX.
La Ducliesse.
Madeline Spencer, lying in a
languorous coil among the cush
ions in the deep embrasure of an
east window, was gazing in
dreamy abstraction across the
vailev to the mountain &nur. five
•
iniles away as the bird flies, 10
as the road runs, where, sil
houetted against the blue of the
cloudless sky, rose the huge,
gray castle, of Dalberg.
For the last hour, she had been
training a field glass on it at
short intervals, and presently
she levelled it. again, and this
time she saw what she was wait
ing for—from the highest tower
of the keep the royal standard
of Valeria was floating.
For a little while she watched
the golden lion couchant on its
crimson field -lashing its tail in
anger with every undulation of
the fresh west wind, as though
impatient to spring into the val
ley and ravage and harass it,
much as the fierce first Dalberg
himself had doubtless done—
men sue slowly uncoiled herselt,
and gliding from the ledge
swished lightly across to the far
door, that led into the duke of
Lotzea's library.
“Ferdinand,” she said, “they
have-” he was not there,
though she had heard him a mo
ment ago singing softly, as was
his wont when in particularly
good spirits.
She went to his desk and sat
down to wait, her eyes straying
indifferently over the familiar
papers that covered it, until they
chanced upon a slender portfolio,
she had never before seen, and
which, to her surprise, contained
only a sheet of blotting paper,
about a foot square, folded down
the center. Curious, she opened
it, to find, on the inside, the
stamp of the royal arms, and the
marks of a dozen lines of heavy
writing, most of it clear and dis
tinct, and made, seemingly, by
two impressions, one at each end
of the sheet.
What Was it doing here?—and
why so carefully preserved?—
She looked at the writing more
attentively—and suddenly one
word stood out plain, even if in
verted. and under it a date.
Instantly blotter and portfolio
were replaced, and she hurried to
her boudoir for a mirror. Lay
ing it face upward on the desk,
she held the writing over it. A
single glance proved her surmise
true. Here and there words and
letters were missing or were
very indistinct, hut there could
he no doubt that this was the
blotter used by King Frederick
when he wrote the decree the
night bef er; hW tt?1. i»astv
reading had found nothing to
show tlu> purport of the knv—in
deed, it seemed to he only a few
lines of the beginning and of the
cud, including the signature and
date -hut possibly a closer in
spection would reveal more; and
so she was about to copy it exact
ly, when she heard the duke’s
voice in the adjoining room and
hud time only to hide the mirror
! and to get the blotter 10 its place
until he came in.
His cold face warmed, as it al
ways did for her, and as it never
had done for another woman,
and he bowed to her in pleasant
mockery.
“Good morning, duchess,” he
said; “what are your orders for
the day?.—you occupy the seat of
authority.”
She got up. “Having no right
to the title,” she said, giving
him her most winning smile,.“I
vacate the seat—do you think I
look like a duchess?”
“Like a duehess!” he ex
claimed, handing her into the
chair and leaning over the hack,
his head close to hers, “like a
duchess! you are a duchess in
everything but birth.’’
“And title,” she added, with
a bit of a shrug.
He stroked her soft black hair,
with easy fingers.
“The title will be yours when
Ferdinand of Lotzen reigns in
Dornlitz,’’ he said.
She bent back her head ami
smiled into lus eyes. It was the
first time he had held out any
promise as to l>er place in event
of his becoming king, though she
hatl tried repeatedly to draw him
to it.
“Would you do that, dear?”
she asked, “do you really care
enough for me to do that—to ac
knowledge me so before the
world?”
“®Yes, Madeline, 1 think l do,”
he said, after a pause, that
seemed to her perilously long.
“It appears rather retributive
that you, who came here, at my
instance, to play the wife for the
American, should thus have been
put, by my own act, into a posi
tion where our friendship must
be maintained sub rosa. You are
quite too clear headed not to an
[predate that now, at least, I may
not openly parade our relations;
to do so would be to end what
ever chance I have with the
nobles. But once on the throne
and tlie power firm in my hand,
and they ail may go to the devil,
and a duchess shall you be—if,”
—pinching her cheek—“you will
promise to stay a wav from Paris
and the Rue Royale, except when
I am With you.”
She wound her little arms
around his neck, and drew his
face close to hers.
“I promise,” she said pres
ently, “I promise. . . . But
what if you should miss the
crown 7—you could not make me
duchess then.”
“Why not, ma belle?” he
asked, holding her arms close
.around his neck. “I shall still
be a duke, and you—la Duchesse
de la main gauche.”
She could not suppress the
start—though she had played for
just such au answer, yet never
thinking it would come—and
Lotz.cn felt it, and understood.
“Did that Surprise you, little
one,” he laughed. “Well, don’t
forget, if I miss the throne, and
live, I shan't be urged to stay
in Valeria—in fact, whatever
urging there is, will likely be the
other way.”
“Banished” she asked.
lie nodded. “Practically
that.”
‘Pans ! —with a sly smile up
ward.
He filched a kiss. “Anywhere
you like, my dear; but no one
place too long.”
She was thinking rapidly—
“duchess of the left hand”;—
never his duchess in name—nev
er anything but a morganatic
wife to whom no title passed;
but what mattered the title, if
she got the settlements, and all
the rest. And Ferdinand was
easy enough to manage now, and
would be, so long as the infatua
tion held him; afterward—at
least the settlements and the
jewels would remain.
Truly she had won far more
than she had sought or even
dreamed of—and won it, wheth
er Lotzen got the crown or exile.
The only risk she ran was his
dying, and it must be for her to
keep him out of danger—away
from the archduke and his
friends, where, she knew, death
was in leash, straining to be free
and at him. Hitherto she had
thought her only sure reward lay
in Ferdinand as king; in his
generosity for a little while; and
so she had been very willing to
stake him for success. Now she
must reserve her method—no
more spurring him to seek out
the archduke and dare all. on a
single fight; instead, prudence,
discretion, let others do the open
work and face the hazards.
She gave a satisfied little sigh
and drew him close.
“May be you doubt it, dear,”
she said, “but I can be very do
cile and contented—and I shall
prove it, whether as duchess of
the right hand or the left.”
He laughed, and shook his
head.
“You, docile and contented!
never in this world; nor do I
want you so—I prefer you as you
are; you may lose me, if you
change.”
“Then I'll not change, dear,”
she whispered, and kisse’d him
lightly and arose.
He reached out quickly to
draw her back, but she eluded
him.
“Nay, nay, my lord,” she
smiled; “I must not change, you
said.”
“Don’t go away,” he insisted;
“stay with me a little longer.”
She sat down across the desk
from him.
“1 almost forgot what I came
for,” she said. “Do you know
they have comet—the flag went
up a little while ;uro.”
He nodded. “Yes, I know—
a whole train load and half the
household :—the regent, the
American, Moore, Bernheint, De
Courser, Marsov, the scheming
Courtney, damn him, and a lot of
women, including, of course, the
Radnor girl. For a pursuit with
deadly intent, it's the most amaz
ing in the annals of tvar. Under
all the rules the American and
a few tried swords should have
stolen into Dalberg castle, with
every precaution against our
knowing they had come; instead,
they arrive with the ostentation
of a royal progress, and fling out
the golden lion from the highest
tower.”
“What are you going to do
first ?” she asked.
“Nothing—it's their move.
They have come for the hook,
land they must seek it here.”
She was idly snapping the
scissors through a sheet of paper
and simply smiled her answer.
vGive me a eigaret, dear,” she
said, after a pause, “I’ve left
mine in my room.”
lie searched his pockets lor nu
case; then tumbled the papers on
the desk, she aiding and very
careful to leave exposed the port
folio that contained the blotter.
“Oh, there it is,*’ she ex
claimed, “on the table, yonder;”
and when he went for it she drew
out the blotter and feigned to be
examining it.
“Here, little one,” he said,
tossing her the case—then he saw
what she had, and for the shadow
of an instant, which she detected,
he hesitated—“fix one for me,”
hr ended, and sat down, seeming
ly in entire unconcern.
“Bring me a match,” she or
dered, eyes still on the blotter,
as she opened the case and took
out a cigaret. . . . “There, 1
spoil you.” She laid down the
sheet and lit another Nestor for
herself. “Ferdinand,” said she,
turning half around in her chair
and looking up at him, “just
where is this wonderful book of
laws?”
“Here, in this drawer,” open
ing one beside her, showing the
same package wrapped in black
cloth that Armand and Debra
had seen in Ferida palace.
“I don’t mean that one,” said
she. “I mean the real book.’’
He sent a cloud of smoke be
tween them.
“I wish I knew,” he said;
“but tne American won’t tell
me.”
She scattered the smoke with
a wave of her handkerchief.
“Are you quite sure he could
tell you?” she asked.—“In fact,
my dear boy, do you need to be
told?”
1 He looked at her with a puzzled
frown; and for answer she
tapped the open blotter, and
smiled.
“Even though inverted, a few
words are very plain:—a king’s
name and a date. . . . And the
king died the next day.”
“And what is your infer
ence?” he asked.
“It’s rather more than an in
ference, isn’t it?” she laughed;
“I should call it a sequitur:—
That he who has the book’s blot
ter, has the book.”
She had expected either cool
ridicule or angry denial; instead,
he laughed, too, and coming
around to her, gave her an ad
miring little caress.
“You’re quite too clever,
Madeline,” he said; “it is a se
quitur, but unfortunately it’s not
the fact—now. I haven’t the
book; I did have it, and I know
where it is, but I can’t get it.”
“You had it—and let it get
away?” she marveled.
“Yes,”
“And know where it is, and
vet cm n’t get it?”
“Yes, again.”
“JSurely! surely! it can’t be
that I am listening to the Duke
ofLotzen! . . . But, cf course,
you know what the decree is,”
And now he lied, and so easily
and promptly that even sKe did
not suspect.
“No,” said he, “I don’t; I
lost the book before I had a
chance to open it. All I know is
what that blotter tells. Damn it,
why couldn’t it have had the
middle of the decree instead of
both ends!” and in marvellously
assumed indignation he seized
the soft sheet, and tore it into
tiny bits. He had no mind that
even she should have the chance
! to copy it, and delve into all that
the words and blurred lines
might imply.
“May I know where the book
is, dear?” she sard, after a pause;
“may be I could help you.”
An hour ago he would have
balked at this question; but now
her interests had become so
bound up with his that he could
trust her.
“Know, little one? of course
you may know,” he said instant
ly; “I shall be glad for a confi
dant. The book is exactly where
if belongs:—in the box, and it is
in the vault of the king’s library
at the summer palace.”
She bmghed merrily.
“FeaBaiand, dear Ferdi
nand!’’she cried, “I’m ashamed
of you—to tell me such a clumsy
lie.”
(To Be Continued Next Week.)
The news from Europe shows that
France has taken over Dortmund. In
her gradual absorption, disarming and
expelling the police.
The death rate among children In
th.e Ruhr is Increasing rapidly due to
lack of food.
The value of the franc falls off again
slightly. The mark, strange to say, is
higher than It was when the French
marched In. Perhaps because the
French have to buy marks to finance
themselves on German soli.
—
At Johns Hopkins university young
men whose blood and health are per
fect can pay their way by selling their
blood to professors for use in trans
fusion experiments. The young stu
dent lies down, while a small amount
of blood Is taken from him. Then he
\ is paid $50.
No student Is allowed to supply
; more than three transfuwlena In one
BERNHARDT
STRUGGLES
WITH DEATH
Great Tragedienne, Sinking
Slowly, Inquires About Her
Rosewood Casket—She May
Live Until Wednesday.
Universal Service.
Special Wireless Dispatch.
Paris, March 26 (1:30 a. m.)—
Madame Sarah Bernhardt is reported
by her doctors to be “slightly better”
at this hour.
.Sousing from her restless delirium
the great actress called her son to
her side and asked him:
"Is my rosewood coffin ready?”
Madame Bernhardt bought the
casket herself more than 30 years
age.
Wants Flowers, She Says.
A few moments later she again
spoke, this time to say:
“I want heaps of flowers at my
funeral.”
The patient may live until Wednes
day was the verdict late Sunday eve
ning of Dr. Vidal, the tragedienne's
own doctor.
In Fatal Stage Now.
All day Sunday the great actress
battled with death. Her disease is
uremia, from which she has suffered
for years. It has now reached a crit
ical and probably final stage with a
eomplete cessation of functioning of
the kidneys.
Five doctors remained at the house
all day while n “death watch," by
3cores of newspaper men and friends
was kept outside.
Her aged butler, Pierre, sobbing
freely, relayed messages from the
bedside to waiting reporters.
Calls for Her Dogs.
Ceaselessly Sarah Bernhardt de
manded that her great Dane dog be
admitted but the dog is now on her
farm on the isle of Jersey.
All day messages continued to ar
rive from kings, statesmen, actors
and friends. Including King George
of England, King Emmanuel of Italy,
King Alphonso of Spain, President
Millerand and Premier Poincare.
A cruel contrast is seen in the fact
that the tragedienne is dying prac
tically penniless while her house is
heaped with flowers worth a fortune,
sent by sympathizers and admirers.
Would Die on Stage.
While in the upstairs rooms of her
house the great tragedienne is fin
ishing the last act of her life’s drama,
dow'n stairs the house is disordered
with the paraphernalia of the sets
for the play she was acting when she
was stricken Thursday.
At each waking moment she strug
gles to rise and t-eturn to work and
she asks to be allowed to fulfill her
oft-made prophecy that she would
die on the stage—at -work. The doc
tors say it will be Impossible for her
wish to come true.
BODY OF MISSINcTlNURSE
TAKEN FROM RIVER
Universal Service.
New Brunswick, N. J., Marcn 25.—
Anchored to the bank with frozen
weeds, the body of pretty 22-year-old
Jeanette Brazeale, missing from ner
home in New Brunswick since Feb
ruary 21, was found Sunday in the
Delaware and Raritan canal a short
distance from, her home and Middle
sex general hospital, where she had
been employed as a nurse. Coroner
Hubbard said the girl had committed
suicide, but despite his finding an
autopsy will be conducted by County
Physician Suydam, as it is held that
Miss Brazeale was murdered.
The body was identified by Alan
son Prentiss, a cousin of the girl, and
by Dr. A. L. Smith, president of the
hospital.
HARDING ASKED TO END
POSTMASTER POLITICS
Universal Service.
Washington. March 25.—President
Harding is urged in a letter from the
National Civic Service Reform league
Sunday to issue an executive order
ending political appointments to first,
second and third class postmaster
ships.
He Is asked to require recommen
dation for appointment in each case
of the man standing highest on the
eligible list. The letter was called
forth by the statement by Former
Postmaster General Work that the
department had been handicapped by
“political considerations” in its rec
ommendations for appointments to
presidential postmastership places.
PAYS $2,0G0 FOR TWO
BLOODED SWISS GOATS
International News Service.
Syracuse. N. Y.—Burns Lyman
Smith, Syracuse muItimiMionaire, lias
got the Swiss's goats.
They cost him $1,000 apiece and
they're the first Swiss milk goats to
be introduced in these parts. The
breed-ting of the animals will be at
tempted on Smith's Oswegatchle
river preserve,
u. S. WOMEN "given'
DECREES IN PARIS
Paris, March 24 (A. P.l—Two
American women were granted di
vorces from their American husbands
b> the Paris civil tribunal Friday.
They are Mrs. Frederick H. Prince.
jr„ who before her marriage was
Mary Elizabeth Harding, daughter of
\V. P. G. Harding, governor of the
federal reserve bank of Boston, and
Mrs. Eugene Van Renssalaer Thayer,
of New York and Boston, who was
Miss Gladys Baldwin Brooks. Both
divorces were for desertion.
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Tanlac Is for sale by all good drug
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The word “unicameral” means “hav
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