The Colonel of the Red Huzzars | Page 8

well
qualified for the American diplomatic service.
My room overlooked the Avenue, and the writing-desk was near the
window. I was drawing the formal report to the War Department of my
arrival at Dornlitz and the status political and military, when the clatter
of hoofs on the driveway drew my attention. It was a tall officer in the
green-and-gold of the Royal Guards, and pulling up sharply he tossed
his rein to his orderly. I heard the door open and voices in the hall; and,
then, in a few minutes, he came out and rode away, with the stiff, hard
seat of the European cavalryman. I was still watching him when
Courtney entered.
"What do you think of him?" he asked.
"I haven't seen enough of him to think," said I.

"Not even enough to wonder who he is?"
I yawned. "His uniform tells me he is a colonel of the Guard."
"But nothing else?"
"I can read a bit more."
"From the uniform?" he asked.
I nodded.
"You're a veritable Daniel," Courtney laughed. "What saith the
writing--or rather, what saith the uniform?"
"It's very simple to those who read uniforms."
"So!" said he. "I await the interpretation."
"It's too easy," I retorted. "A Point Plebe could do it. Your visitor was
one of His Majesty's Aides-de-Camp bearing an invitation to the ball at
the Palace to-night."
For once I saw Courtney's face show surprise.
"How did you guess it?" he said, after a pause.
"A diplomat should watch the newspapers," said I, and pointed to this
item in the Court News of that morning's issue:
"His Excellency the Honorable Richard Courtney, the newly accredited
American Ambassador, is expected to arrive to-day. He is accompanied
by Major Dalberg, the Military Attaché. His Majesty has ordered his
Aide-de-Camp, Colonel Bernheim, to invite them to the Birthday Ball
to-night; where they will be honored by a special presentation."
Courtney read it carefully. "At last I see the simple truth in a daily
paper," he commented. "But, as for you, my friend, button your coat
well over your heart for it's in for a hard thump tonight."

"So?" said I.
"There won't be so much indifference after you've met Her and--seen a
certain picture in the Corridor of Kings," he retorted, with a superior
smile.
"Think not?" said I, with another yawn. "What if I've done both years
ago?"
He eyed me sharply. "It's foolish to bluff when a show-down is
certain," he said.
"So one learns in the army."
"Of course not every hand needs to bluff," he said slowly.
"No--not every hand," I agreed.
He went over to the door. On the threshold he turned.
"I wonder if this is my laugh, or yours, to-night," he said.
"We will laugh together," I answered.
Then he went out.

IV
THE SALUTE OF A COUSIN
I would have been rather a wooden sort of individual had I felt no stir
in my heart as, for the first time, I entered the Castle of my ancestors
and stood in the ante-chamber waiting to be presented to the Head of
my House. I believe I am as phlegmatic as most men, but I would give
very little for one who, under like conditions, would not feel a press of
emotion. I know it came to me with sharp intensity,--and I see no
shame in the admission; nor will any one else whose heart is the heart

of an honest man. I have no patience with those creatures who deride
sentiment. They are either liars or idiots. Religion, itself, is sentimental;
and so is every refined instinct of our lives. Destroy the sentimental in
man and the brute alone remains.
We waited but a moment and then were ushered into the royal presence.
The greeting was entirely informal. Courtney was no stranger to
Valeria, and had met the King frequently during the last ten years.
Frederick came forward and shook his hand most cordially and
welcomed him to Court. It was like the meeting of two friends. During
it I had time to observe the King.
He wore the green uniform of a General, with the Jewel of the Order of
the Lion around his neck. His sixty odd years sat very lightly and left
no mark save in the facial wrinkles and grey hair. He was a true
Dalberg in height and general appearance, and with the strong, straight
nose that was as distinctive to our family as was the beak to the
Bourbons.
I had remained in the background during Courtney's greeting, but,
when he turned and presented me, I advanced and bowed. As I
straightened, the King extended his hand saying:
"We are glad to----"
Then he caught a full view of my face and stopped, staring. I dropped
his hand and stepped back; and,