The Colonel of the Red Huzzars | Page 9

for a space, no one moved. Only, I shot
a side glance at Courtney and caught a half smile on his lips. Then
Frederick recovered himself.
"Your pardon, sir, but I did not catch the name," he said.
Courtney's finesse saved me the embarrassment of a self-introduction.
"Major Dalberg, of the United States Army, Your Majesty," he said
quickly. "The representative of our War Department with your army."
"Dalberg--Dalberg," he muttered; then added, perfunctorily: "Our army

is at your service, sir, though I fear we shall be unable to give you the
war."
"The army is quite enough, Sire," I began; but it was plain he did not
hear me. He was studying my face again and thinking. Courtney, I
could see, was having the finest sort of sport. I could have throttled
him.
"You have our name, Major," said the King. "May I ask if it is a
common one in America?"
"I know of no family but my own that bears it, there," I answered.
He sat down and motioned for us to do likewise.
"I am interested," said he. "Has your family been long in America?"
"Since the year 1777."
He leaned a bit forward. "That was during your Revolutionary War."
"Yes, Your Majesty. It was that year Lafayette joined Washington's
Army." That will give him a surprise, I thought.
It did.
"Do you know the name of the Dalberg of 1777?" he asked quickly.
I saw no profit in evasion. "He was Hugo, second son of Henry the
Third of Valeria," I replied.
"I knew it," he exclaimed, jumping up and coming over to me. "And
you are?"
"His great-grandson and eldest male heir."
"Then, as such, I salute you, cousin," he said, and suddenly kissed me
on the cheek.

Were you ever kissed by a man? If so, and you are a woman, it
doubtless was pleasant enough, and, maybe, not unusual; but if you are
a man, it will surprise you mightily the first time.
Of course, I understood all the significance of Frederick's action.
Royalty on the Continent so greets only royalty or relatives. It meant I
was accepted as one of the Blood and a Prince of my House. I admit
my pride was stirred.
"Your Majesty overwhelms me," I said, bowing again. "I expected no
recognition. I am entitled to none. Our name was stricken from the
Family Roll."
He made a deprecating gesture. "Don't let that disturb you, cousin."
"And believe me, also, I had no intention to disclose my relationship," I
protested.
The King laughed. "You could not hide it with that face," he said.
I must have flushed, for he exclaimed: "Ha! You know that, do you?"
For answer I drew out the miniature of old Henry, which I had brought
hoping for an opportunity to compare it with the original, and handed it
to him.
He gave it a quick glance and nodded. "Yes, that went with Hugo," he
said.
I was surprised and looked it.
"Oh, the family records are very complete as to the affair of your
headstrong ancestor," he explained. "Old Henry himself set it all out in
his journal; and he speaks of this very miniature as having been given
to Hugo by his mother, the day he left Dornlitz. There were two of
them, copied from the portrait in the Corridor." He crossed to a cabinet.
"And here is the other one," he said.
I glanced at Courtney. He threw up his hands in defeat; at the same

time, however, signifying that I should press my advantage while the
King was so well disposed.
But I shook my head. My descent had been acknowledged, and that
was quite enough--more than enough, indeed. I had come to Valeria as
a Major in the American Army. I sought no favors from the Dalbergs
here. From which it would seem that a bit of Hugo's stubborn
independence had come down to me. As for Courtney, the shrug of his
shoulders was very eloquent of what he thought of such independence.
"Perchance you never heard of a certain letter dispatched to Hugo by
his brother, Frederick, after Henry's death?" the King asked.
"And delivered by his Ambassador," I supplemented.
"The same. Hugo, too, seems to have kept a journal."
"He kept the letter itself, and a copy of his answer," I added.
The King laughed. "Altogether, Hugo must have been a rare fine fellow,
with a mind of his own."
"He was a son of Henry the Third," I answered.
The King nodded. "Yet 'twas a pity he did not accept Frederick's offer."
"I fancy the new life was more to his mind."
"Doubtless,--but, had he returned, it would be you and not Ferdinand of
Lotzen who would be the Heir Presumptive of Valeria."
I smiled. "Had he returned