Long Live the King! | Page 9

placed on the
very back of his head at the angle of the American boy's cap. As his
collar had scratched his neck, he had, at Bobby's suggestion, taken it
off and rolled it up. He decided, as he waited in the square, to put it on
again. Miss Braithwaite was very peculiar about collars.
Came a lull in the line of carriages. Prince Ferdinand William Otto took
a long breath and started forward. As he advanced he stuck his hands in
his pockets and swaggered a trifle. It was, as nearly as possible, an
exact imitation of Bobby Thorpe's walk. And to keep up his courage, he
quoted that young gentleman's farewell speech to himself: "What d' you
care? They won't eat you, will they?"
At the entrance to the archway stood two sentries. They stood as if they
were carved out of wood. Only their eyes moved. And within, in the
court around which the Palace was built, were the King's bodyguards.
Mostly they sat on a long bench and exchanged conversation, while one
of them paced back and forth, his gun over his shoulder, in front of
them. Prince Ferdinand William Otto knew them all. More than once
he had secured cigarettes from Lieutenant Larisch and dropped them
from one of his windows, which were just overhead. They would look
straight ahead and not see them, until the officer's back was turned.
Then one would be lighted and passed along the line. Each man would
take one puff and pass it on behind his back. It was great fun.

Prince Ferdinand William Otto stood in the shadows and glanced
across. The sentries stood like wooden men, but something was wrong
in the courtyard inside. The guards were all standing, and there seemed
to be a great many of them. And just as he had made up his mind to
take the plunge, so to speak, a part of his own regiment of cavalry came
out from the courtyard with a thundering of hoofs, wheeled at the street,
and clattered off.
Very unusual, all of it.
The Crown Prince Ferdinand William Otto felt in his pocket for his
handkerchief, and, moistening a corner with his tongue, wiped his face.
Then he wiped his shoes. Then, with his hands in his trousers pockets,
he sauntered into the light.
Now sentries are trained to be impassive. The model of a sentry is a
wooden soldier. A really good sentry does not sneeze or cough on duty.
Did any one ever see a sentry, for instance, wipe his nose? Or twirl his
thumbs? Or buy a newspaper? Certainly not.
Therefore the two sentries made no sign when they saw Ferdinand
William Otto approaching. But one of them forgot to bring his musket
to salute. He crossed himself instead. And something strained around
the other sentry's lower jaw suddenly relaxed into a smile as His Royal
Highness drew a hand from its refuge and saluted. He glanced first at
one, then at the other, rather sheepishly, hesitated between them,
clapped his hat on more securely, and marched in.
"The young rascal!" said the second sentry to himself. And by turning
his head slightly - for a sentry learns to see all around like a horse,
without twisting his neck - he watched the runaway into the palace.
Prince Ferdinand William Otto went up the stone staircase. Here and
there he passed guards who stared and saluted. Had he not been
obsessed with the vision of Miss Braithwaite, he would have known
that relief followed in his wake. Messengers clattered down the
staircase to the courtyard. Other messengers, breathless and eager, flew
to that lighted wing where the Council sat, and where the old King,

propped up in bed, waited and fought terror.
The Archduchess Annunciata was with her father. Across the corridor
the Council debated in low tones.
"Tell me again," said the King. "How in God's name could it have
happened? In daylight, and with all of you there!"
"I have told you all I know," said the Archduchess impatiently. "One
moment he was there. Hedwig and he were making gestures, and I
reproved him. The next he was gone. Hedwig saw him get up and go
out. She thought - "
"Send for Hedwig."
"She has retired. She was devoted to him, and - "
"Send for her," said the King shortly.
The Archduchess Annunciata went out. The old King lay back, and his
eyes, weary with many years of ruling, of disappointments and
bitterness, roved the room. They came to rest at last on the photograph
of a young man, which stood on his bedside, table.
He was a very young man, in a uniform. He was boyish, and smiling.
There was a dog beside him, and its head was on