The Mad King

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"He received it," replied the officer, "and I am here to acquaint
you with the fact, but Prince Peter said nothing about your release.
All he told me was that you were not to be shot this morning," and
the man emphasized the last two words.

Leopold of Lutha spent two awful days a prisoner at Blentz, not
knowing at what moment Prince Peter might see fit to carry out the
verdict of the Austrian court martial. He could convince no one that
he was the king. Peter would not even grant him an audience. Upon
the evening of the third day, word came that the Austrians had been
defeated before Lustadt, and those that were not prisoners were
retreating through Blentz toward the Austrian frontier.

The news filtered to Leopold's prison room through the servant who
brought him his scant and rough fare. The king was utterly
disheartened before this word reached him. For the moment he seemed
to see a ray of hope, for, since the impostor had been victorious,
he would be in a position to force Peter of Blentz to give up the
true king.

There was the chance that the American, flushed with success and
power, might elect to hold the crown he had seized. Who would guess
the transfer that had been effected, or, guessing, would dare voice
his suspicions in the face of the power and popularity that Leopold
knew such a victory as the impostor had won must have given him in
the hearts and minds of the people of Lutha? Still, there was a bare
possibility that the American would be as good as his word, and
return the crown as he had promised. Though he hated to admit it,
the king had every reason to believe that the impostor was a man of
honor, whose bare word was as good as another's bond.

He was commencing, under this line of reasoning, to achieve a
certain hopeful content when the door to his prison opened and Peter
of Blentz, black and scowling, entered. At his elbow was Captain
Ernst Maenck.

"Leopold has defeated the Austrians," announced the former. "Until
you returned to Lutha he considered the Austrians his best friends.
I do not know how you could have reached or influenced him. It is to
learn how you accomplished it that I am here. The fact that he
signed your pardon indicates that his attitude toward you changed
suddenly--almost within an hour. There is something at the bottom of
it all, and that something I must know."

"I am Leopold!" cried the king. "Don't you recognize me, Prince
Peter? Look at me! Maenck must know me. It was I who wrote and
signed the American's pardon--at the point of the American's
revolver. He forced me to exchange clothing with him, and then he
brought me here to this room and left me."

The two men looked at the speaker and smiled.

"You bank too strongly, my friend," said Peter of Blentz, "upon your
resemblance to the king of Lutha. I will admit that it is strong,
but not so strong as to convince me of the truth of so improbable a
story. How in the world could the American have brought you through
the castle, from one end to the other, unseen? There was a guard
before the king's door and another before this. No, Herr Custer, you
will have to concoct a more plausible tale.

"No," and Peter of Blentz scowled savagely, as though to impress
upon his listener the importance of his next utterance, "there were
more than you and the king involved in his sudden departure from
Blentz and in his hasty change of policy toward Austria. To be quite
candid, it seems to me that it may be necessary to my future
welfare--vitally necessary, I may say--to know precisely how all
this occurred, and just what influence you have over Leopold of
Lutha. Who was it that acted as the go-between in the king's
negotiations with you, or rather, yours with the king? And what
argument did you bring to bear to force Leopold to the action he
took?"

"I have told you all that I know about the matter," whined the king.
"The American appeared suddenly in my apartment. When he brought me
here he first blindfolded me. I have no idea by what route we
traveled through the castle, and unless your guards outside this
door were bribed they can tell you more about how we got in here
than I can--provided we entered through that doorway," and the king
pointed to the door which had just opened to admit his two visitors.

"Oh, pshaw!" exclaimed Maenck. "There is but one door to this
room--if the king came in here at all, he came through that door."

"Enough!" cried Peter of Blentz. "I shall not be trifled with
longer. I shall give you until tomorrow morning to make a full
explanation of the truth and to form some plan whereby you may
utilize once more whatever influence you had over Leopold to the end
that he grant to myself and my associates his royal assurance that
our lives and property will be safe in Lutha."

"But I tell you it is impossible," wailed the king.

"I think not," sneered Prince Peter, "especially when I tell you
that if you do not accede to my wishes the order of the Austrian
military court that sentenced you to death at Burgova will be
carried out in the morning."

With his final words the two men turned and left the room. Behind
them, upon the floor, inarticulate with terror, knelt Leopold of
Lutha, his hands outstretched in supplication.

The long night wore its weary way to dawn at last. The sleepless
man, alternately tossing upon his bed and pacing the floor, looked
fearfully from time to time at the window through which the
lightening of the sky would proclaim the coming day and his last
hour on earth. His windows faced the west. At the foot of the hill
beneath the castle nestled the village of Blentz, once more
enveloped in peaceful silence since the Austrians were gone.

An unmistakable lessening of the darkness in the east had just
announced the proximity of day, when the king heard a clatter of
horses' hoofs upon the road before the castle. The sound ceased at
the gates and a loud voice broke out upon the stillness of the dying
night demanding entrance "in the name of the king."

New hope burst aflame in the breast of the condemned man. The
impostor had not forsaken him. Leopold ran to the window, leaning
far out. He heard the voices of the sentries in the barbican as they
conversed with the newcomers. Then silence came, broken only by the
rapid footsteps of a soldier hastening from the gate to the castle.
His hobnail shoes pounding upon the cobbles of the courtyard echoed
among the angles of the lofty walls. When he had entered the castle
the silence became oppressive. For five minutes there was no sound
other than the pawing of the horses outside the barbican and the
subdued conversation of their riders.

Presently the soldier emerged from the castle. With him was an
officer. The two went to the barbican. Again there was a parley
between the horsemen and the guard. Leopold could hear the officer
demanding terms. He would lower the drawbridge and admit them upon
conditions.

One of these the king overheard--it concerned an assurance of full
pardon for Peter of Blentz and the garrison; and again Leopold heard
the officer addressing someone as "your majesty."

Ah, the impostor was there in person. Ach, Gott! How Leopold of
Lutha hated him, and yet, in the hands of this American lay not only
his throne but his very life as well.

Evidently the negotiations proved unsuccessful for after a time the
party wheeled their horses from the gate and rode back toward
Blentz. As the sound of the iron-shod hoofs diminished in the
distance, with them diminished the hopes of the king.

When they ceased entirely his hopes were at an end, to be supplanted
by renewed terror at the turning of the knob of his prison door as
it swung open to admit Maenck and a squad of soldiers.

"Come!" ordered the captain. "The king has refused to intercede in
your behalf. When he returns with his army he will find your body at
the foot of the west wall in the courtyard."

With an ear-piercing shriek that rang through the grim old castle,
Leopold of Lutha flung his arms above his head and lunged forward
upon his face. Roughly the soldiers seized the unconscious man and
dragged him from the room.

Along the corridor they hauled him and down the winding stairs
within the north tower to the narrow slit of a door that opened upon
the courtyard. To the foot of the west wall they brought him,
tossing him brutally to the stone flagging. Here one of the soldiers
brought a flagon of water and dashed it in the face of the king. The
cold douche returned Leopold to a consciousness of the nearness of
his impending fate.

He saw the little squad of soldiers before him. He saw the cold,
gray wall behind, and, above, the cold, gray sky of early dawn. The
dismal men leaning upon their shadowy guns seemed unearthly specters
in the weird light of the hour that is neither God's day nor devil's
night. With difficulty two of them dragged Leopold to his feet.

Then the dismal men formed in line before him at the opposite side
of the courtyard. Maenck stood to the left of them. He was giving
commands. They fell upon the doomed man's ears with all the cruelty
of physical blows. Tears coursed down his white cheeks. With
incoherent mumblings he begged for his life. Leopold, King of Lutha,
trembling in the face of death!




XIII

THE TWO KINGS

Twenty troopers had ridden with Lieutenant Butzow and the false king
from Lustadt to Blentz. During the long, hard ride there had been
little or no conversation between the American and his friend, for
Butzow was still unsuspicious of the true identity of the man who
posed as the ruler of Lutha. The lieutenant was all anxiety to reach
Blentz and rescue the American he thought imprisoned there and in
danger of being shot.

At the gate they were refused admittance unless the king would
accept conditions. Barney refused--there was another way to gain
entrance to Blentz that not even the master of Blentz knew. Butzow
urged him to accede to anything to save the life of the American. He
recalled all that the latter had done in the service of Lutha and
Leopold. Barney leaned close to the other's ear.

"If they have not already shot him," he whispered, "we shall save
the prisoner yet. Let them think that we give up and are returning
to Lustadt. Then follow me."

Slowly the little cavalcade rode down from the castle of Blentz
toward the village. Just out of sight of the grim pile where the
road wound down into a ravine Barney turned his horse's head up the
narrow defile. In single file Butzow and the troopers followed until
the rank undergrowth precluded farther advance. Here the American
directed that they dismount, and, leaving the horses in charge of
three troopers, set out once more with the balance of the company on
foot.

It was with difficulty that the men forced their way through the
bushes, but they had not gone far when their leader stopped before a
sheer wall of earth and stone, covered with densely growing
shrubbery. Here he groped in the dim light, feeling his way with his
hands before him, while at his heels came his followers. At last he
separated a wall of bushes and disappeared within the aperture his
hands had made. One by one his men followed, finding themselves in
inky darkness, but upon a smooth stone floor and with stone walls
close upon either hand. Those who lifted their hands above their
heads discovered an arched stone ceiling close above them.

Along this buried corridor the "king" led them, for though he had
never traversed it himself the Princess Emma had, and from her he
had received minute directions. Occasionally he struck a match, and
presently in the fitful glare of one of these he and those directly
behind him saw the foot of a ladder that disappeared in the Stygian
darkness above.

"Follow me up this, very quietly," he said to those behind him. "Up
to the third landing."

They did as he bid them. At the third landing Barney felt for the
latch he knew was there--he was on familiar ground now. Finding it
he pushed open the door it held in place, and through a tiny crack
surveyed the room beyond. It was vacant. The American threw the door
wide and stepped within. Directly behind him was Butzow, his eyes
wide in wonderment. After him filed the troopers until seventeen of
them stood behind their lieutenant and the "king."

Through the window overlooking the courtyard came a piteous wailing.
Barney ran to the casement and looked out. Butzow was at his side.

"Himmel!" ejaculated the Luthanian. "They are about to shoot him.
Quick, your majesty," and without waiting to see if he were followed
the lieutenant raced for the door of the apartment. Close behind him
came the American and the seventeen.

It took but a moment to reach the stairway down which the rescuers
tumbled pell-mell.

Maenck was giving his commands to the firing squad with fiendish
deliberation and delay. He seemed to enjoy dragging out the agony
that the condemned man suffered. But it was this very cruelty that
caused Maenck's undoing and saved the life of Leopold of Lutha. Just
before he gave the word to fire Maenck paused and laughed aloud at
the pitiable figure trembling and whining against the stone wall
before him, and during that pause a commotion arose at the tower
doorway behind the firing squad.

Maenck turned to discover the cause of the interruption, and as he
turned he saw the figure of the king leaping toward him with leveled
revolver. At the king's back a company of troopers of the Royal
Horse Guard was pouring into the courtyard.

Maenck snatched his own revolver from his hip and fired point-blank
at the "king." The firing squad had turned at the sound of assault
from the rear. Some of them discharged their pieces at the advancing
troopers. Butzow gave a command and seventeen carbines poured their
deadly hail into the ranks of the Blentz retainers. At Maenck's shot
the "king" staggered and fell to the pavement.

Maenck leaped across his prostrate form, yelling to his men "Shoot
the American." Then he was lost to Barney's sight in the
hand-to-hand scrimmage that was taking place. The American tried to
regain his feet, but the shock of the wound in his breast had
apparently paralyzed him for the moment. A Blentz soldier was
running toward the prisoner standing open-mouthed against the wall.
The fellow's rifle was raised to his hip--his intention was only too
obvious.

Barney drew himself painfully and slowly to one elbow. The man was
rapidly nearing the true Leopold. In another moment he would shoot.
The American raised his revolver and, taking careful aim, fired. The
soldier shrieked, covered his face with his hands, spun around once,
and dropped at the king's feet.

The troopers under Butzow were forcing the men of Blentz toward the
far end of the courtyard. Two of the Blentz faction were standing a
little apart, backing slowly away and at the same time deliberately
firing at the king. Barney seemed the only one who noticed them.
Once again he raised his revolver and fired. One of the men sat down
suddenly, looked vacantly about him, and then rolled over upon his
side. The other fired once more at the king and the same instant
Barney fired at the soldier. Soldier and king--would-be assassin and
his victim--fell simultaneously. Barney grimaced. The wound in his
breast was painful. He had done his best to save the king. It was no
fault of his that he had failed. It was a long way to Beatrice. He
wondered if Emma von der Tann would be on the station platform,
awaiting him--then he swooned.

Butzow and his seventeen had it all their own way in the courtyard
and castle of Blentz. After the first resistance the soldiery of
Peter fled to the guardroom. Butzow followed them, and there they
laid down their arms. Then the lieutenant returned to the courtyard
to look for the king and Barney Custer. He found them both, and both
were wounded. He had them carried to the royal apartments in the
north tower. When Barney regained consciousness he found the
scowling portrait of the Blentz princess frowning down upon him. He
lay upon a great bed where the soldiers, thinking him king, had
placed him. Opposite him, against the farther wall, the real king
lay upon a cot. Butzow was working over him.

"Not so bad, after all, Barney," the lieutenant was saying. "Only a
flesh wound in the calf of the leg."

The king made no reply. He was afraid to declare his identity.
First he must learn the intentions of the impostor. He only closed
his eyes wearily. Presently he asked a question.

"Is he badly wounded?" and he indicated the figure upon the great
bed.

Butzow turned and crossed to where the American lay. He saw that the
latter's eyes were open and that he was conscious.

"How does your majesty feel?" he asked. There was more respect in
his tone than ever before. One of the Blentz soldiers had told him
how the "king," after being wounded by Maenck, had raised himself
upon his elbow and saved the prisoner's life by shooting three of
his assailants.

"I thought I was done for," answered Barney Custer, "but I rather
guess the bullet struck only a glancing blow. It couldn't have
entered my lungs, for I neither cough nor spit blood. To tell you
the truth, I feel surprisingly fit. How's the prisoner?"

"Only a flesh wound in the calf of his left leg, sire," replied
Butzow.

"I am glad," was Barney's only comment. He didn't want to be king
of Lutha; but he had foreseen that with the death of the king his
imposture might be forced upon him for life.

After Butzow and one of the troopers had washed and dressed the
wounds of both men Barney asked them to leave the room.

"I wish to sleep," he said. "If I require you I will ring."

Saluting, the two backed from the apartment. Just as they were
passing through the doorway the American called out to Butzow.

"You have Peter of Blentz and Maenck in custody?" he asked.

"I regret having to report to your majesty," replied the officer,
"that both must have escaped. A thorough search of the entire castle
has failed to reveal them."

Barney scowled. He had hoped to place these two conspirators once
and for all where they would never again threaten the peace of the
throne of Lutha--in hell. For a moment he lay in thought. Then he
addressed the officer again.

"Leave your force here," he said, "to guard us. Ride, yourself, to
Lustadt and inform Prince von der Tann that it is the king's desire
that every effort be made to capture these two men. Have them
brought to Lustadt immediately they are apprehended. Bring them dead
or alive."

Again Butzow saluted and prepared to leave the room.

"Wait," said Barney. "Convey our greetings to the Princess von der
Tann, and inform her that my wound is of small importance, as is
also that of the--Mr. Custer. You may go, lieutenant."

When they were alone Barney turned toward the king. The other lay
upon his side glaring at the American. When he caught the latter's
eyes upon him he spoke.

"What do you intend doing with me?" he said. "Are you going to keep
your word and return my identity?"

"I have promised," replied Barney, "and what I promise I always
perform."

"Then exchange clothing with me at once," cried the king, half
rising from his cot.

"Not so fast, my friend," rejoined the American. "There are a few
trifling details to be arranged before we resume our proper
personalities."

"Do you realize that you should be hanged for what you have done?"
snarled the king. "You assaulted me, stole my clothing, left me here
to be shot by Peter, and sat upon my throne in Lustadt while I lay a
prisoner condemned to death."

"And do you realize," replied Barney, "that by so doing I saved your
foolish little throne for you; that I drove the invaders from your
dominions; that I have unmasked your enemies, and that I have once
again proven to you that the Prince von der Tann is your best friend
and most loyal supporter?"

"You laid your plebeian hands upon me," cried the king, raising his
voice. "You humiliated me, and you shall suffer for it."

Barney Custer eyed the king for a long moment before he spoke again.
It was difficult to believe that the man was so devoid of gratitude,
and so blind as not to see that even the rough treatment that he had
received at the American's hands was as nothing by comparison with
the service that the American had done him. Apparently Leopold had
already forgotten that three times Barney Custer had saved his life
in the courtyard below. From the man's demeanor, now that his life
was no longer at stake, Barney caught an inkling of what his
attitude might be when once again he was returned to the despotic
power of his kingship.

"It is futile to reason with you," he said. "There is only one way
to handle such as you. At present I hold the power to coerce you,
and I shall continue to hold that power until I am safely out of
your two-by-four kingdom. If you do as I say you shall have your
throne back again. If you refuse, why by Heaven you shall never have
it. I'll stay king of Lutha myself."

"What are your terms?" asked the king.

"That Prince Peter of Blentz, Captain Ernst Maenck, and old Von
Coblich be tried, convicted, and hanged for high treason," replied
the American.

"That is easy," said the king. "I should do so anyway immediately I
resumed my throne. Now get up and give me my clothes. Take this cot
and I will take the bed. None will know of the exchange."

"Again you are too fast," answered Barney. "There is another
condition."

"Well?"

"You must promise upon your royal honor that Ludwig, Prince von der
Tann, remain chancellor of Lutha during your life or his."

"Very well," assented the king. "I promise," and again he half rose
from his cot.

"Hold on a minute," admonished the American; "there is yet one more
condition of which I have not made mention."

"What, another?" exclaimed Leopold testily. "How much do you want
for returning to me what you have stolen?"

"So far I have asked for nothing for myself," replied Barney. "Now
I am coming to that part of the agreement. The Princess Emma von der
Tann is betrothed to you. She does not love you. She has honored me
with her affection, but she will not wed until she has been formally
released from her promise to wed Leopold of Lutha. The king must
sign such a release and also a sanction of her marriage to Barney
Custer, of Beatrice. Do you understand what I want?"

The king went livid. He came to his feet beside the cot. For the
moment, his wound was forgotten. He tottered toward the impostor.

"You scoundrel!" he screamed. "You scoundrel! You have stolen my
identity and my throne and now you wish to steal the woman who loves
me."

"Don't get excited, Leo," warned the American, "and don't talk so
loud. The Princess doesn't love you, and you know it as well as I.
She will never marry you. If you want your dinky throne back you'll
have to do as I desire; that is, sign the release and the sanction.

"Now let's don't have any heroics about it. You have the
proposition. Now I am going to sleep. In the meantime you may think
it over. If the papers are not ready when it comes time for us to
leave, and from the way I feel now I rather think I shall be ready
to mount a horse by morning, I shall ride back to Lustadt as king of
Lutha, and I shall marry her highness into the bargain, and you may
go hang!

"How the devil you will earn a living with that king job taken away
from you I don't know. You're a long way from New York, and in the
present state of carnage in Europe I rather doubt that there are
many headwaiters jobs open this side of the American metropolis, and
I can't for the moment think of anything else at which you would
shine--with all due respect to some excellent headwaiters I have
known."

For some time the king remained silent. He was thinking. He
realized that it lay in the power of the American to do precisely
what he had threatened to do. No one would doubt his identity. Even
Peter of Blentz had not recognized the real king despite Leopold's
repeated and hysterical claims.

Lieutenant Butzow, the American's best friend, had no more suspected
the exchange of identities. Von der Tann, too, must have been
deceived. Everyone had been deceived. There was no hope that the
people, who really saw so little of their king, would guess the
deception that was being played upon them. Leopold groaned. Barney
opened his eyes and turned toward him.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"I will sign the release and the sanction of her highness' marriage
to you," said the king.

"Good!" exclaimed the American. "You will then go at once to
Brosnov as originally planned. I will return to Lustadt and get her
highness, and we will immediately leave Lutha via Brosnov. There you
and I will effect a change of raiment, and you will ride back to
Lustadt with the small guard that accompanies her highness and me to
the frontier."

"Why do you not remain in Lustadt?" asked the king. "You could as
well be married there as elsewhere."

"Because I don't trust your majesty," replied the American. "It must
be done precisely as I say or not at all. Are you agreeable?"