The Colonel of the Red Huzzars | Page 6

"Why did you make me ask for your attendance?" she demanded.
"Because I dared not offer it."
"Another deception in your looks," she replied.
I laughed. She had evened up.
"You are a soldier--an American officer?" she said suddenly.
"Your Highness has guessed most shrewdly," I answered, in surprise.
"Are you staying at the Embassy?" she asked.
"No," said I. "I am not on the staff. I am only a bird of passage."

"Do you know General Russell?"
"My father knew him, I believe," I answered, evasively, and turned the
talk into less personal matters.
When we reached the hill I drew rein. Down in the valley lay the
Summer Palace and the gates of the Park were but a few hundred yards
below us. I dismounted to say good-bye.
"I am very grateful for your courtesy," she said.
"It is for the stranger to be grateful for your trust," I answered.
She smiled,--that smile was getting into my poor brain--"A woman
usually knows a gentleman," she said.
I bowed.
"And under certain circumstances she likes to know his name," she
added.
For a moment I was undecided. Should I tell her and claim my
cousinship? I was sorely tempted. Then I saw what a mistake it would
be,--she would not believe it,--and answered:
"John Smith, Your Royal Highness, and your most obedient servant."
She must have noticed my hesitation, for she studied my face an instant,
then said, with a pause between each word and a peculiar stress on the
name:
"General--Smith?"
"Simple Captain," I answered. "We do not climb so rapidly in our
Army."
Just then, from the barracks three miles away, came the boom of the
evening gun.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "I am late. I must hasten. Good-bye, _mon
Capitaine_; you have been very kind."
She drew off her gauntlet and extended her hand. I bent and
kissed,--possibly too lingeringly,--the little fingers.
"Farewell, Princess," I said. And then, half under my breath, I added:
"Till we meet again."
She heard, and again that smile. "'_Auf Wiedersehen_' be it," she
answered.
Then she rode away.
I leaned against my horse's shoulder and watched her as she went
slowly down the hill, the full glory of the sinking sun upon her, and the
shadows of the great trees close on either side. Presently there came a
bend in the road and, turning in the saddle, she waved her hand.
I answered with my hat. Then she was gone. That was how I met the
Princess Royal of Valeria. And, unless she has told it (which, somehow,
I doubt), none knows it but ourselves. I had never seen her since.
Perhaps that is why I was quite content for Courtney to win his bet.
Truly, a man's heart does not age with his hair.

III
IN DORNLITZ AGAIN
The declaration of war by Titia had come so suddenly that when
Courtney and I sailed for Europe, the Powers were still in the air and
watching one another. No battle had been fought; but the armies were
frowning at each other on the frontier, and several skirmishes had
occurred.
Ostensibly, the trouble was over a slice of territory which Henry the
Third had taken from Titia as an indemnity for some real or fancied

wrongs done him. Valeria, with its great general and powerful army,
was too strong in those days for Titia to do more than protest--and, then,
to take its punishment, which, for some reason that was doubtless
sufficient to him. Henry had seen fit to make as easy as it might be, by
giving his daughter, Adela, to Casimir for wife.
Whether the lady went voluntarily or not I cannot say. Yet it was,
doubtless, the same with both Kings: The one got an unwilling
province; the other, an unwilling bride. Only, Titia's trouble was
soonest over.
This ravished Murdol had always been a standing menace to the peace
of the two countries; Titia had never forgiven its seizure, and Valeria
was afflicted with the plague of disaffected subjects on its very border.
Here, as I have said, was the real casus belli,--a constant irritation that
had at length got past bearing.
But, in truth, the actual breach was due to a woman. The Crown Prince
of Titia had come a wooing of the Princess Royal of Valeria, and had
been twice refused by her. King Frederick had left the question entirely
in her hands. Her choice was her own, to marry or to decline. As a
matter of state policy the match was greatly desired by him and his
Ministers. They were becoming very weary of Murdol and the turmoil
it maintained on the border, and the great force of troops required there
to preserve order. Then, too, Titia had grown vastly in wealth and
population since old Henry's