The Colonel of the Red Huzzars | Page 7

of war followed straight-way.
Most of these facts were already known to me. Those of latest happening came to Courtney from the State Department on the eve of our sailing.
"It looks like a one-battle war," he had observed.
"Add a letter to your sentence and you will be nearer right," I answered.
He laughed. "A none-battle war, you mean."
And so it proved. When we landed it was to find that Germany had offered to mediate, and that, while the two Kingdoms were thinking it over, a truce had been declared. Consequently, instead of hurrying straight to the Valerian army, I journeyed leisurely with Courtney to the capital. There the first news that met us was that Germany's mediation had been accepted and that the war was at an end--for the present, at least.
So, once again, had the Powers, in the interest of European peace, struck up the swords.
As we drove from the station to the Embassy we observed flags flying from almost every house, and that the public buildings were lavishly decorated.
"Peace seems to be well received," I remarked.
"It's the King's birthday," Courtney answered.
"And a very happy one, I fancy."
Courtney stared at me. "How so?" he said.
"He can now both keep his daughter and be rid of Murdol."
"The Princess is saved, of course, but in deference to the national self-respect, he dare give up Murdol only in one contingency:--if Titia can be persuaded to pay a money value for it. Which I doubt."
I said nothing. I, too, doubted.
"However, it's not important to us," said he. "Whatever the outcome the lady will be here long enough for you to lose the wager."
"Damn the wager," I exclaimed.
"Damn everything you have a mind to, my dear fellow," he encouraged.
"And you in particular," I said.
"Wherefore, my dear Major?" he laughed.
"For suggesting this fool thing."
"Poor boy! I should have regarded your youthful impetuosity."
I shrugged my shoulders.
"And grey hairs," he added.
"I've a mind to toss you out of the carriage," said I.
"Do it,--and save me the trouble of getting myself out," he answered; and then we drew under the _porte coch��re_ at the Embassy.
The matter of a residence had not bothered Courtney. He simply took General Russell's lease off his hands, and twenty thousand a year rent with it. I was to live at the Legation, there being no Ambassadorial women folks to make the staff de trop. Naturally, I was quite satisfied. It was a bit preferable to hotel hospitality. And, then, the assistants were good fellows.
Cosgrove, who had been First Secretary for ten years, was from the estate next my own on the Eastern Shore. It was through him I had been able to preserve my incog. so securely during my former visits to Valeria. And if he had any curiosity as to my motives, he was courteous enough never to show it. "The best assistant in Europe," Courtney had once pronounced him.
Then there was Pryor, the Naval Attach��. He had been off "cruising with the Army," as Cosgrove put it, pending my arrival and was not yet returned to Dornlitz. The others of the office force were young fellows,--rich boys, either in presente or futuro,--who, likely, could only be depended upon to do the wrong thing. Being fit for nothing at home, therefore, they had been considered to be particularly 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