The Colonel of the Red Huzzars Part 8

And so I knew my peace was made.

I looked for some banter from Courtney, but there was none; only a bit of a smile under the grey moustache. What he said was:

"Come, let us circle the room and see whom we know."

"We know none, if I'm to do the knowing," I said.

"Queer state of affairs," he reflected; "the true Heir Presumptive, yet a stranger in the Court."

"Oh! drop that nonsense," I said.

His hand went up to his imperial. "Nonsense? Well, maybe so,--and there's the pity of it."

I laughed. "My dear fellow," I said, "you are becoming sentimental, and without even the excuse of a pretty woman in the case."

He faced toward the throne. "You don't act like a blind man," he said.

"I can see the Princess very clearly, but only with Major Dalberg's eyes," I replied.

"But if you were proclaimed the----"

I cut him short. "I am too old for rainbow-chasing, and Spanish Castles don't become an amba.s.sador."

"There you are wrong, my dear Major; diplomacy deals in _chateaux en Espagne_. It has builded many upon weaker foundations than this one, that have, in time, become substantial and lasting."

"Then, it's a good thing that we army fellows are called upon, occasionally, to tumble a few of them about your diplomatic ears."

He laughed. "You poor military men don't know it's only the phantom castles you tumble. We never give you a chance at any others."

"So I've been a Don Quixote all these years and didn't know it?"

"About that!"

"And that warrants you in sending me to tilt against this foolish heir-presumptive windmill."

"But if it were to prove no windmill?"

"Surely," I said--"Surely, you are not serious?"

He gave me one of his quick glances and his hand went back to his chin.

"'Quien sabe?' as the Spaniard would say, Major; 'Quien sabe?'" he replied.

"Don't be an a.s.s, Courtney," I exclaimed. "And don't play me for one, either."

A lift of the eyebrows was his answer--but Courtney could say much that way.

"It's not a bad sort of occupation--being a King," he reflected.

I ignored him.

"And you could fill the place quite as well as Ferdinand of Lotzen," he went on.

"You will be offering presently to wager that I'll be the next King of Valeria," I scoffed.

"With the proper odds, I'd risk it."

"Name them."

"No--not yet," he said; "but I'll go you five thousand even, now, that you marry the Princess Royal."

"This court atmosphere seems to go to your head."

"That has nothing to do with the wager," he insisted.

"I'll not take you," I said. "The last fool bet is enough for me."

"I thought I heard someone say: 'The sixth dance, cousin.'"

"You did."

"And you call that a 'fool bet'?"

"I do,--and the more so that we were sober when we made it."

"You're a bit hard to please, lately," he mocked.

"I'm a bit easily led astray, lately, you mean," I retorted.

All this talk, as we made our way through the crowd, was interrupted at intervals while Courtney greeted those he knew and presented me. They were mainly of the diplomatic corps and, if they noted the coincidence of my name and Dalberg features, they were adepts enough not to show it. Not so, however, with some of the elderly Valerian dignitaries and army officers; they were very evidently surprised and curious,--and, very shortly, it was plain I was the object of their discussion and careful observation.

"How do you enjoy it?" Courtney inquired.

"You forget that this is not my first visit to Dornlitz," I answered.

"Some day I'd like to know of those other visits."

"There's nothing to know; they were like any other tourist's."

"Really, Major, you throw your opportunities away," he said, and I saw he did not believe me.

"What opportunities?" I asked.

He smiled. "Well, not those for prevarication, certainly."

"Isn't that a necessary qualification of a diplomatic attache?" I said.

"Quite the most important,--and I don't doubt you will find it useful before you leave Valeria."