G. Frederic Turner

“ The ladies shuddered in their décolleté gowns, but Trafford,—heedless alike of frost and etiquette,—was on the balcony in an instant by the King's side, looking down on the great street. The other men followed suit immediately, and the sight that met their gaze was a stirring one. The broad Königstrasse, which ran past the palace, was packed with a dense and swaying throng.
In the midst of a bevy of dark-coated police walked a tall figure, handcuffed, bareheaded, his clothes torn as if he had been taken with violence, yet retaining withal an air of fierce scorn and tameless pride. ”

“ Shops, private houses, and hotels were gay with bunting and festoons of artificial flowers. And the sun,—as if to honour the new dynasty with its more than royal majesty,—was gilding men's handiwork till tinsel became silver and gold, and every banner a brave thing of joy and colour and heartfelt holiday.
Within two days of the supposed death of Karl the new dynasty was to be inaugurated with all the pomp that State and Church could lend the occasion.
Things had progressed, not at a run, but at a gallop. And for this Father Bernhardt was responsible. The man was a wonder. ”

“ Not a breath of air stirred over the snow-veiled face of the country. The sun had risen above the shoulder of the mighty Klauigberg, and had turned the myriad crystals into a sparkling ocean of unbelievable whiteness. To draw breath was to fill one's lungs with perfect air and one's heart with ecstasy. To gaze at the shimmering panorama of towering peaks and snowy buttresses was to behold the finest view in central Europe.
"Here they come!" ejaculated Karl excitedly, as a "bob" came into view, accompanied by a slight scraping sound, as the runners slithered over the adamantine track. ”

“ Bernhardt is dead, Matti is dead, Karl is our prisoner only so long as he consents to be. You and I are alone,—alone in the dead of night, in a land of snow and frost. We must find shelter, or perish. We must creep down to Riefinsdorf for a night's lodging, for the road to Wallen is long and will be traversed, for a certainty, by our pursuers. Do you not see now why I complain of Fate? Lying slander has coupled our names none too pleasantly before; what will it say when it has visual facts instead of idle gossip to build upon? ”

“ Well, then, a nature ardent but pure, fierce without being cruel, simple without being foolish. I see youth, birth and beauty blended into one exhilarating whole—and I bow down and worship. To a heart like yours, nothing is impossible—not even the capacity of falling in love with an adventurous American. I do not make you a proposal of marriage, but a matrimonial proposition." He paused to note the effect of his words before concluding with: "Now then, if by my efforts I can secure for you the throne of Grimland, will you reward me with your heart and hand?" ”

“ The snow held everywhere, but it was the thin covering of an English hill-side in January, not the sumptuous and universal mantle of frost-bound Weissheim. The larch and fir of the uplands were giving gradual place to the stunted oak and the starved chestnut. A thin hedge maintained a scrubby, struggling line at the edge of the roadside, and on the southern slopes the fields were furrowed in endless terraces for the vine.
"We shall reach the frontier in an hour," said Trafford. ”

“ Trafford smiled appreciatively. There were symptoms of a battle-light in those big, grey eyes, a certain rude force and stubborn vigour on those heavy, bovine features.
"Father Bernhardt's in the Strafeburg," said the American.
"Alas, yes," admitted the stranger in a voice of infinite sadness. "He alone held the threads of revolution in his hands. He alone possessed the magic of command, the subtle influence that turns canaille into heroes. Without him we are an army of sheep without a leader." ”

“ When I was a priest I lived as a priest: I scourged myself and fasted; but the Prince of Power of the Air was never far from me. And now that I am of the world, worldly, a sinner of strange sins, a blasphemer, and a wine-bibber, Diabolus and his satellites are in even more constant attendance on me. Perhaps I am mad, or perhaps they are there for such as me to see."
"I'd chance the former alternative and see a brain specialist," suggested Saunders. "It might save a deal of wasted blood and treasure to Grimland."
"There is no healing for a damned soul," said Bernhardt fiercely. ”

“ The snows of the hillsides were scarred with the double-tracked impressions of innumerable ski-runners, and the great toboggan run—the Kastel run—found its daily complement of votaries for its dangerous attractions. Each night the thermometer showed its zero frost, and each day the winter sun proclaimed its potency with no uncertain ray. Nature was as serenely unconscious of politics as the guests of the Pariserhof were of the series of fogs that was at that time choking the streets of London with obfuscating blackness. ”

“ He was the only one present who seemed out of place in the sumptuous Throne-room. Von Hügelweiler was an aristocrat, and a handsome one at that. Bernhardt, despite his wild, black eyes, was a man of breeding and palpable distinction. Trafford, with his bold features, fierce moustache, and picturesque green uniform, might have been a Polish count of bluest blood and innumerable quarterings. But Matti, with his big hands, heavy features, and ungainly figure, was plebeian from the soles of his enormous feet to the tips of his spatulate fingers. ”

“ In the road were groups of men, soldiers and civilians, with linked arms, reeling gait, and a gift for making the night hideous with tuneless song.
Within fifty yards of the palace a bonfire had been kindled, and round its ruddy flames a wild dance, a veritable carmagnole of drunken triumph, was in progress. Here the royal party stopped to watch, and in a few minutes they were recognised.
"Hail, Karl the Twenty-second of Grimland!" cried a big-bearded man in a military overcoat. "Long live our gallant King!"
"Three cheers for Karl!" ”

“ Presently he answered:
"You need to live in the open—plenty of sunshine and perfect air."
"All kibosh—buncombe!" broke forth Trafford petulantly.
"No, not buncombe, but Grimland—a little country on the borders of Austria and Russia. Visit it," went on Saunders in rousing tones. "Its highlands furnish the finest scenery in Europe. The air of its mountains is sparkling champagne! Its skies are purest sapphire, its snows whiter than sheets of finest lawn! To dwell there is to be a giant refreshed with wine, a sane man with a sane mind, and a proper contempt for amorous contretemps. ”

“ The thermometer may stand at zero, but your warm gloves will be a mockery, your great coat an offence."
A gust from a side street blew a whirl of powdered snow in the faces of the two men. Trafford buried his chin in the warm collar of his overcoat; he swore, but without undue bitterness. The cold indeed was poignant, for the unfrozen flood of the Niederkessel lent the atmosphere a touch of moisture that gave malice to the shrill frost, a penetrating venom to the spiteful breeze that swept the long length and broad breadth of the straight, prosaic Bahnofstrasse. ”

“ Meyer, quick as thought, whipped out a revolver and fired point blank between the shoulders of Bilderbaum's assailant. Frau von Bilderbaum screamed, and in her emotion stepped off the firm path and disappeared backwards into a sea of incohesive crystals. Before Meyer had time to fire again a man was at his throat, a man with a beard hanging grotesquely from one ear, a man with mad passion in his eye and a nameless oath on his lips. ”

“ It was Trafford to whom all glory for the capture of the Strafeburg redounded; Trafford who had set the "Rothlied" going, suborned the soldiers, "bossed" everything and everybody as if he were a true born patriot instead of a foreign adventurer with the devil's own luck. Why, next to Father Bernhardt this pig of an American was the most popular man in Weidenbruck! All this, in itself, was a source of considerable annoyance to the sensitive Captain of the Guides; but what touched him on the raw, was the footing on which Trafford seemed to stand with the Princess Gloria. ”

“ Like most nervous, self-centred men, he most excelled before an audience when once the initial fear had worn off. And now he was skating as he had never skated before, with a dash, energy, and precision that drew redoubled cheers from the spectators and audible applause from the royal box. Even Meyer, he reflected, with all his malice, could hardly dare to give another the prize now; to do so would be not merely to violate justice, but to insult the intelligence of every man and woman on the ice.
At the conclusion of his effort, Trafford congratulated the Captain warmly on his performance. ”

“ Then the pace increased till he was travelling at a sharp speed; then, as the momentum grew, and the angle of the hillside sharpened, he fairly flew through the air in the swift, smooth rush that brings joy to the heart of the ski-runner. At the bottom he got into some soft snow, and after a fruitless struggle with the laws of gravity, the royal equipoise was overcome, and Karl lay prone and buried in the gleaming crystals. A roar of delight burst from his companions above, and a ski-shod foot was waved answeringly in the air in plaintive rebuke at their merriment. ”

“ Von Hügelweiler's dark eyes shone bright with pleasure. Already he saw himself crowned with the invisible laurels of undying fame, receiving the massive silver trophy from the royal hands.
"Thanks, my American friend," he said, heartily, "go on and prosper."
With a few bold strokes Trafford started on his attempt to do superbly what others had done faultlessly. His style instantly arrested attention. Here was no lithe figure full of lissom vitality and vibrant suppleness; no graceful athlete whose arms and legs seemed ever ready to adopt fresh and more elegant poses. ”

“ During the march Trafford neither saw nor heard from Gloria. He was not unhappy. The fine air, the healthy exercise, the splendid uplands through which they were passing, won him to a mood of strong content. Something had lit a fire in his heart that no wind of disfavour or adversity could extinguish. He knew that he was a living man again, moving among creatures of flesh and blood; not a spiritless mechanism in a world of automata. He had seen, or fancied he had seen, a spark of human love in the young Queen's heart, and that spark he swore to kindle into flame by deeds of reckless heroism. ”

“ TRAFFORD AND THE TRENCH
Bernhardt himself was directing the movement against the Marienkastel. He dominated the whole force as completely as though he had been trained to the art of war instead of the services of the Church. All felt that success depended on one man, and that man was the keen-eyed enigma who seemed to blend a strain of genius with the taint of madness in his seething brain.
"Their answer?" he demanded of Trafford, on the latter's return from his fruitless parley.
"See us d——d first," replied the American.
"Ha! That sounds like Saunders," said Bernhardt with a laugh. ”

“ You're a youngish man, Bernhardt, and the world's before you. Give up listening to devils, and the devils will give up talking to you. Go on listening to them and the fine balances of sanity will be overthrown for ever."
"Silence!" cried the ex-priest, thrusting his fingers in his ears. "Would you rob me even of my remaining joys? For such as me there is no peace. I have my mission, and by the devil's aid I must perform it!"
"We all have missions," retorted Saunders. "Mine apparently is to preserve Karl from assassination. ”

“ Presently a piece of frozen snow struck him on the nape of his neck. He swung round in a fury, and as he did so the foremost of the pack struck his shako from his head.
"Von Hügelweiler!" he cried, recognising in his roughly-clad assailant the Captain of the Guard; and quick as thought he planted a sledge-hammer blow full in his rival's face. The Captain staggered and fell, and profiting by the diversion, Trafford crossed the wide street and plunged into a narrow alley. ”

“ Imagine a track some six feet in width, formed of snow turned to ice by the process of constant watering, and so smooth and slippery that a burnished mirror would be rough and dull in comparison. Imagine this track inclined at a steep angle, walled in on both sides with low ice-banks, and trailing a long and sinuous course for a length of over a mile! Here we have the potentialities of speed when we remember that racing "bobs" are just low frameworks of wood whose steel runners glide over the polished track with as little friction as a flash of lightning traversing a thunder-cloud. ”

“ Saunders turned his sweeping gaze to the right, and it lighted upon the private curling-rink belonging to Major Flannel's villa. He smiled, for the contest for the Flannel Cup had already begun, and was going on heedless of the stern symphony that was making the valleys echo with bursts of shattering sound.
A curling competition demands a whole-hearted absorption from its votaries, and takes little heed of battle, murder, and sudden death, provided the ice is keen and in good order. ”

“ But Karl was in a mood to hear ill of no man. He was convinced,—as he said,—that his fortunes had turned. His natural generosity was in the ascendant, and the magic of the glorious night had won him to a temper of broad benevolence.
"Oh, Trafford," he laughed, "Providence watches over men like that. They take risks and thrive on them. The bullet is not moulded that will pierce his tough American skin; and I rejoice to think it is so, for he is a most fascinating free lance. He saved me from death in the courtyard of the Neptunburg, and I have not forgotten the debt. ”

“ And he stepped, not on to the snow, not on to the plank that crossed the run, but on to the surface of the bob-sleigh track itself. He might have trodden on a cloud or a trembling bog for all the foothold it afforded, and with a cry he fell, the Frau von Bilderbaum falling heavily and incontinently on him. Hands were stretched out, but too late. Before the General could clutch the skirt of his devoted partner, the ill-assorted pair,—struggling, writhing, uttering noises of wrath and fear,—had commenced the descent of the "bob" run. Nothing could stop their downward progress. ”

“ I'd sooner spend a night in the trenches potting at old Bernhardt and his friends than drink the best brandy in the cellars of the Brunvarad."
"An admirable sentiment," said Meyer, "but one not apparently shared by your comrade in the green ulster."
"Oh, I like fighting well enough," replied the individual in question, "only it is cold work doing sentry-go when there's no enemy within six miles of you."
"For shame!" cried Mrs. Saunders. "Is your idea of military service the mere excitement of fine-weather fighting? Is not duty among your ideals as well as glory? ”

“ An air of palpable dejection seemed to oppress the throng, as though they had tried conclusions with the military and come off second best. The situation pleased the American not at all. His own enthusiasm was at boiling-point, and it fretted his high spirit to see a promising revolution fizzling out for want of leaders and concerted action. He edged his way into the outskirts of the crowd, in the dim hope of meeting some kindred spirit, perhaps, even if fortune favoured him, of chancing across the Princess. ”

“ Bernhardt was a superior being, one whose word was law. They heard and believed, and even began to feel self-reproachful.
"For shame on you, men of Weidenbruck!" went on the ex-priest in upraised tones. "Shame on you, I say, compassing harm against the man who delivered you from tyranny! This loyal friend of mine, whose courage and craft you have just experienced to your own hurt, joins an expedition to Weissheim as my right-hand man. A foreigner, he endures hardships and dangers for your sake and that of your noble young Queen. 'Traitor,' you called him! ”

“ Trafford drank in the words as he drank in the clear, sweet air of the mountain-side, and happiness—the heroic happiness that befel poets and warriors in the days of the world's youth, when men were demi-gods and gods were demi-mortals—took him with golden wings and exalted him, so that the soaring mountain and the wheeling bird and the forest and the crag and the river were as his brothers and sisters, fellow members of the worshipful company of rejoicing creation. ”

“ There was a momentary silence and in that silence was audible a peculiar humming, grinding roar, the penetrating music of granite bowls gliding over thick ice.
"What's that?" asked Trafford.
"Curling," replied Saunders. "A match on Major Flannel's rink."
"Where's that?" As much of Trafford's face as was visible under the bandage looked thoughtful.
"Two hundred yards above us in a hollow near the start of the bob-run. Why?"
"Nothing," said Trafford. "Only they ought to be warned that they are playing a dangerous game. ”