4
THE NATIONAL SUNDAY MAGAZINE
a
The PRINCE of
GMJSLARK
By
GEORGE BARR MTUTCHEON
Author of BEVERLY of GRAUSTARK.
BREWSTERS MILLIONS, Etc.
Illustrations by R. F. SchabeUtz, .
CIIAI'TKR IX.
T1IK I'lilNCK MKKTS MISS Gl'II.K.
ATKlt on It. Schmidt sat alone in a
sheltered corner of (lie promenade
deck, where chairs had been secured by
the forehanded Ilohbs. The tliin driz
zle now aspired to something more
definite in tin shape of a steady down
pour, and the decks were almost deserted, save for
the few who huddled in the unexposed nooks where
the sweep and swish of the rain failed to penetrate.
There was a faraway look in the young man's eyes,
as of one who dreams pleasantly, with little effort
but excellent effect. His pipe had gone out, so bis
dream must have been long and uninterrupted. Fight
bells sounded, hut what is time to a dreamer? Then
came one bell and two, and now his eyes were closed.
Two women came anil stood over him, but little
did they suspect that bis dream was of one of them:
the one with the lovely eyes and the soft brown hair.
They surveyed him, whispering, the one with a little
perplexed frown on her brow, the other with dis
tinct signs of annoyance in her face. The girl was
not moro than twenty, her companion quite old
enough to be her mother: a considerate if not com
plimentary estimate, for a girl's mother may be
either forty, fifty or even fifty-five, when you come
to think of it.
They were looking for something. That was quite
clear. And it was deplorably clear that whatever
it was, K, Schmidt was sitting upon it. They saw
that he was asleep, which mnde the search, if not
the actual recovery, quite out of the question. The
older woman was on the point of poking the sleeper
with the toe of her shoe, being a matter-of-fact sort
of person, when the girl imperatively shook her
head and frowned upon the lady in a way to prove
that even though she was old enough to be the
mother of a girl of twenty, she was by no means
the mother of this one.
AT THAT very instant It. Schmidt opened bis
eyes. It must have been a kindly poke by the
god of sleep that aroused him so opportunely, but
een so, the toe of a shoo could not have created a
graver catastrophe than that which immediately
befell him. He completely lost his head. If one had
suddenly asked what had become of it, he couldn't
have told, not for the life of him. For that matter,
he couldn't have put his finger, so to speak, on any
part of his person and proclaimed with confidence
that it belonged to It. Schmidt of Vienna. He was
looking directly up into a pair of appraising,
startled eyes, in which there was a very pretty con
fusion and a far from impervious blink.
"I beg your pardon," said the older woman, with
out the faintest trace of embarrassment, indeed,
with some asperity, "I think yon are occupying
one of our chairs."
lie scrambled out of the steamer rug and came
to bis feet, blushing to the roots of his hair.
"I beg your pardon," he stammered, and found
his awkwardness rewarded by an extremely sweet
smile in the eyes of the one be addressed.
"We were looking for a letter that I am quite
sure was left in my chair," said she.
"A letter?" he murmured vaguely, and at once
began to search with bis eyes.
"From her father," volunteered the elderly one,
as if it were a necessary bit of information. Then
she jerked the rug away and three pairs of eyes
examined the place where It. Schmidt had been re
clining. "That's odd. Did you happen to see it when
you sat down, sir?"
"I am confident that there was no letter "
began he, and then allowed his gaze to rest on the
"Yes," she said, quite
pointedly. "In my
room. Mr. Schmidt,"
and before he could
gel to his feet she wn
moving away
JftfW -Of I1 Mil
name-card at the top of
the chair. "This bap
pens to bo wi chair,
madam," he went on,
pointing to the card.
'"It. Schmidt.' I am
very sorry."
"The steward must
have put that card there
while you were at lunch
eon, dear. What right
has he to sell our chairs
over again? I shall re
port this to the Cap
tain "
"I am quite positive
that this is my chair,
sir," said the girl, a
spot of red in each cheek,
RETROSPECTIVE Prince Robin of Graustark. traveling
about the world, arrives in the Catskills to visit the Truxon
Kings. W. W. Blithers, self-made multimillionaire and
doting father of an only daughter. Maud, prematurely decides
on the Prince as a son-in-law. He knows that Graustark is
financially embarrassed as a result of the Balkan wars, and with
the Blithers millions in mind he confides his domestic ambition
lo his wife. Blithers calls at the King villa and meets the Prince.
He decides to lend Graustark $16,000,000 and departs for
New York to confer with Count Quinnox, the Graustark Minister
of War. Meanwhile it is decided to give a ball at Bliiherwood
in honor of Prince Robin. Maude docs not attend the ball, and
Mr. Blithers, meeting the Prince the next day, apologizes and in
vites him to dinner and to be his son-in-law. Maude writes her
parents that she and her former governess are going abroad, she
under an assumed name, and expect to book passage on the
Jupiter. Coincidently Prince Robin plans his return to Graustark,
and sails under the name R. Schmidt, to avoid publicity.
"It was engaged two days
ago. i nave ueen occupying it since out it really
doesn't matter. It has your name on it now, so I
suppose I shall have to "
"Not at all," he made haste to say. "It is yours.
There has been some miserable mistake. These deck
stewards are always messing things up. Still, it is
rather a mystery about the letter. I assure you I
saw no "
"No doubt the steward who changed the cards had
suflicieut intelligence to remove all incriminating evi
dence," said she coolly. "We shall find it among the
lost, strayed ami stolen articles, no doubt. Pray retain
the chair, Mr. ," she peered at the name-card
"Mr. Schmidt."
Her cool insolence succeeded in nettling a nature
that was usually most gentle. He spoke with charac
teristic directness.
"Thank you, I shall do so. We thereby manage
to strike a fair average. I seize, your deck chair, you
seize my table. We are quits."
She smiled faintly. "It. Schmidt did not sound
young and gentle, but old and hateful. That is why
I seized the table. I expected to find R. Schmidt a
fat, old German with
very bad manners. In
stead, you were neither
fat, old. nor disagree
able. You took it very
nicely, Mr. Schmidt, and
I am undone. Won't
you permit me to re
store your table to
you?"
The elderly lady was
tapping the deck with
a most impatient foot.
"Iteally my dear, we
were quite within our
rights in approaching
the head waiter. He
"lie said it was en
gaged," interrupted the young lady. "It. Schmidt
was the name he gave, and I informed him it meant
nothing to me. I am very sorry, Mr. Schmidt. I
suppose it was all because I am so accustomed to
having my own way."
"In that case, it is all very easy to understand,"
said he, "for I have always longed to be in a posi
tion where 1 could have my own way. I am sure
that if I could have it, 1 would be a most overbear
ing, selfish person."
"We must inquire at the office for the letter, my
dear, before "
"It may have dropped behind the chair," said the
girl.
"Right!" cried R. Schmidt, dragging the chair
away and pointing in triumph at the missing letter.
He stooped to recover the missive, but she was quick
to forestall him. With a little gasp she pounced
upon it and, like a child, proceeded to hold it behind
her back. He stiffened. "I remember that you said
it was from your father."
She hesitated an instant and then held it forth
for his inspection, rather adroitly concealing the
post-mark with her thumb. It was addressed to