Thomas B. Costain

“ There is an emotional strain in the Ironian which manifests itself in moments of stress and unusual excitement. When stirred by any deep emotion he will emit strange cries and break into high-pitched interminable chants. To the visitor this tendency is inexplicable, and it has contributed not a little to the feeling among other races that there is something uncanny about the men of the Balkan mountains. As Fenton piloted Monsieur Dubois through the square this monotonous chant arose from all sides, and, mingling with the shrill and warlike cries, created a literal pandemonium of sound. ”

“ He continued to slip and came down so rapidly that, when one foot struck on the edge of the narrow ledge, his weight and the momentum of his fall threw him outward.
At such moments the mind acts with lightning rapidity. In the brief second that precedes a plunge to death, the events of a lifetime can flash in fleeting panorama through the human consciousness. Fenton thought of Olga, of the helpless position in which his death would leave her, of Varden, of Ironia and the war—and again of Olga. ”

“ The Princess Olga rose late the next morning. It is a popular myth that persons of royal blood live an entirely different kind of life from the rest of humanity. The universal conception of the life of royalty does not go much beyond gilded carriages, stately balls and glittering banquets. That a princess is liable to relax, to quarrel, to pout, to wheedle, to preen before mirrors, to enjoy the stray bits of gossip that a confidential maid may retail, to read forbidden novels on the sly, in fact to behave the same as any girl of the same age, is a view-point that few have really accepted. ”

“ Two days had passed since the death of King Peter, interminable days of torture and mental travail to the young Canadian. From the moment that Varden had spoken the fateful words, "Peter is dead," Fenton had in a vague way realised the duty that lay before him; although it was only after a long struggle with the promptings of his love that he had bowed to the inevitable. Olga was now Queen of Ironia. A great and shining future was before her. An empire lay within her grasp. What part could he, an alien and a commoner, expect to play in that future? ”

“ Has war been declared yet?"
"War was declared by our good King Peter within an hour of his accession to the throne," cried the Frenchman.
"King Peter!" exclaimed Fenton, surveying Monsieur Dubois as though he feared the Frenchman had been suddenly bereft of his senses.
"It was just as I told you, monsieur. Alexander would not give in. When he found that war could no longer be staved off he abdicated, and Peter became King."
"Then I must lose no time," cried Fenton. "It is doubly important that I get to him at once. I have news of a plot against his life." ”

“ A woman who plays the great game misses much that women are supposed to want—and do want. It may be that these things will be missed from my life, but—I will not regret them. This life means that I am standing alone, fighting against things, combating circumstances, and shaping them to my own ends, trying to grasp from an unwilling hand the fruit success."
"You are right," said Fenton emphatically. "It is the fight for achievement that makes things worth while. It is seldom though that a woman comes to a realisation of so virile a philosophy of life. ”

“ He began to talk of Canada, of the vastness of the country, of its customs and its freedom; particularly of its freedom. The princess listened with deepest interest.
"I should like to go to America—to Canada," said she. "It would be so splendid to be able to do what one wanted without bothering with customs and etiquette; to be able to go about without endless crowds of people staring at one."
"Canadians turn out to stare at princesses the same as they do here in Ironia," answered Fenton. "In fact, as their opportunities are fewer, they probably make more of them. ”

“ Fenton squared around, as belligerent and impetuous again as ever. "Look here, Percy," he demanded eagerly, "don't you think there would be a chance? Can't these ten-centuries-behind-the-times ideas be overcome when new-world determination and wealth and—well unbounded love, are combined to overcome them?"
"The idea's a new one," returned Varden. "As things have been up to the present you haven't the ghost of a chance. But there's going to be an upheaval, a general mix-up around here before the war is over, and perhaps Ironia will come out of it with some new ideas. ”

“ Women—and women only—can be depended upon for the more delicate missions of secret service. It is man—direct, blundering, outspoken man, who thinks judgment better than intuition—who does not fit into the picture."
"You put it so well that I am almost convinced," smiled Fenton. "Still, I don't like to think of you having to associate with the likes of Miridoff and his murder crew. There are two spheres in which I like to picture you—on the stage earning the plaudits of the world, and in a cosy chair on the hearth of some lucky man's home." ”

“ Fenton's arm found its way protectingly around the slender form of his princess-bride, and the lovely hooded head nestled back against his shoulder.
"I have won you after all!" exclaimed the Canadian exultingly. "It is hard to realise that you are really my wife—and yet I felt right from the first that nothing could keep us apart. We were intended for each other, even if half the globe did separate us."
"One can see the hand of Fate in it all," whispered Olga. "I think it must have all been planned by One Who is mightier than we are. ”

“ King Alexander of Ironia stood in an embrasure of the royal council room. He appeared to be gazing over the crowded, turbulent Lodz, but in reality he saw nothing; nor did the wild clamour that rose from the mob-ridden square in front of the palace reach his ears. The King stared into space while angry emotions ran riot in his mind. Adamant determination, black anger and futile longing for strength to combat his aroused subjects, filled the brain of the baffled monarch. ”

“ A fluffy mondaine on the arm of an officer laughed and chatted as she passed. Members of the highest nobility rubbed elbows with gamblers of the most doubtful antecedents. Beauty and vice sat side by side.
Fenton took it all in, but at no time did the thought that had obsessed his mind for the past twenty-four hours leave him. Fenton was in love. He had no doubts on thai score himself. Most men have many love affairs and are deceived often, but when the grande passion comes they know. Fenton knew. Not for one waking minute since he had first seen Olga had he forgotten her. ”

“ Set him in a crowd in any country of dark-pigmented, short-statured men and he stood out by contrast like a Norse god. It is not likely that any woman would ever refuse him the tribute of a second glance. And yet Fenton was not in any sense a lady's man. The firm mouth, the strong jaw and clear eye told of resolve, of determination, of self-reliance. He had a finely chiselled face, a frank, clean, open face. Fenton was a manly man. It was said of him that he stood four-square to every wind that blew.
"Married yet?" went on Varden. ”

“ The gigantic leader of the hill men was mud-stained and dishevelled, but thoroughly well pleased with himself.
"Not an Austrian remains on the sacred soil of our Ironia," he declared, mopping his brow with a bright silk handkerchief, drawn from his belt, "except a hundred or so who will never go back. And more good news for you, my young friend. A party of my men have burned Kirkalisse to the ground. Everything comes to him who strikes while the iron is hot."
For a moment Fenton said nothing. Then: "Kirkalisse burnt. Miridoff dead. Austrian invasion of Ironian soil. ”

“ Fenton straightened up. In the face of this hint of a possible plot against the woman he loved, all mental uncertainty vanished.
"Is there anything I can do?" he asked. "Nothing must stand between the princess and her rights. If money would be any inducement to quiet these trouble-makers, I'm willing to contribute all that I have."
"Quite unnecessary, Mr Quixote," said Varden. "There is a powerful faction to watch the interests of our little Olga. Never fear, she shall be Queen of Ironia." ”

“ Remember, I'm talking as a man to a woman, and you for the moment are just Olga to me, not Princess Olga. If a man meets a woman and knows her for the one he was destined to love, and if he fears it may never be his great good fortune to see her again, why—he tells her of his love! ”

“ His sudden arrival was the cause, obviously, of the clamour that had broken out in the square below. Prince Peter was flushed with rapid riding and spattered with mud. It was clear that he had ridden far and fast to attend this momentous conference.
"Gentlemen, it is war!" he cried, with high enthusiasm. "The country through which I have come is literally ablaze. Nothing can hold us back now. Austria has struck the first blow. And I bring you news. The Russian armies move on Mulkovina to-morrow. Ironia must declare herself to-day." ”

“ Miridoff flung back his cloak and drew a pistol from his belt. Realising that a fraction of a second's delay would cost him his life, Fenton hurled himself bodily forward and pinned the Grand Duke's arms to his sides. The impact carried them back close to the edge of the precipice. The revolver Miridoff had drawn fell from his grasp and clattered on the rocky path.
"Presumptuous, meddling fool!" exclaimed the Grand Duke, straining to loosen the hold of his young adversary. "It is fitter that you die this way than that I should soil my sword."
"Trickster, traitor, assassin!" ”

“ Fenton sat on a camp stool beneath the sloping sides of a canvas tent. Gusts of wind found their way inside, causing the candle that stood on a small table beside him to flicker uncertainly. Outside could be heard the even tramp of a sentry, and at rare intervals the thud of horses' hoofs. From a distance came the steady rumble that told of transport wagons on the move. Fenton wore the uniform of a cavalry officer. ”

“ He pictured her married for diplomatic reasons to a royal nonentity, condemned to a lifetime of endless etiquette, of senseless rigmarole. He reflected darkly on the benighted condition of the old world which made such things possible. Was there no way that an ambitious young millionaire from the new world could succeed in upsetting this almost inevitable arrangement, by scaling the walls of custom and tradition?
In keeping with his thoughts his pace had become savagely energetic. He now discovered that he had wandered well away from the palace into a maze of dark paths. ”

“ Our guide doesn't seem to be having any difficulty."
"An Ironian peasant can see in the dark," asserted Crane. "They're a queer lot—a good deal like animals in some ways. They don't look much farther into the future than the next square meal. When his stomach's full your peasant has just one ambition—to curl up in the sun and go to sleep. Beat him and he'll do your bidding like a sullen donkey, and the first time you come within kicking distance he puts his heels into you, figuratively speaking. Treat him well and he'll die for you like a faithful dog." ”

“ I have known greater happiness than ever before fell to the lot of man—and with that great thought stored in my mind I face the future—whatever it holds—with courage. I surrender you to a brilliant future, Olga, Queen of Ironia. ”

“ In her hasty exclamation and the championing flush of her face, the leader of the Society of Crossed Swords had discerned something that he had not previously suspected.
"She is actually interested in the fellow," he said to himself. Miridoff had recognised Fenton's power to do him harm, but had never thought of him as a possible rival.
"Olga!" The word, tense with feeling, escaped from him. It was the first time he had addressed her other than in terms of correct intercourse. Olga recognised something of the turmoil that was raging within him from the tone of his voice and glanced up. ”

“ As they neared the front of the palace there was a stir which indicated that something of importance was happening. As Fenton looked the windows opening on to a balcony to the right of the main entrance were thrown back and two officers stepped out. The noise ceased almost instantly, and a silence settled down over the square. Following the two officers came Peter, in uniform and bare-headed. He stepped to the front of the balcony, and, resting his hands on the top of the grotesquely ornamental iron railing, swept the crowded square and the streets beyond with a proud eye. ”

“ The priest, with an air of earnest courtesy that might have graced the most sumptuous of banquets, bade his guests be seated. A silent serving-woman of rare old age but unimpaired activity placed two extra plates and the necessary knives and forks. Neither Fenton nor Crane needed any second bidding to fall to, for the former's appetite had been whetted on the trip from the capital, and the latter had reached the stage where a piece of dried leather would have seemed a toothsome morsel. ”

“ Fenton listened to her in a conflict of emotion. The compassion that he felt for this beautiful butterfly, enmeshed in the net of royal rank and placed within a circle where constant danger and intrigue were part of the price of position, was overshadowed by a still deeper feeling. ”

“ The new-comer was immediately drawn into an earnest conversation, conducted in low tones, with Prince Peter and Varden. The two men showed the greatest deference in their attitude toward the girl—a deference which apparently had its roots in deeper soil than men's regard for a mere pretty face. When she spoke they listened attentively and seemed to attach weight to her opinions. Fenton could not catch what they said so he contented himself with watching the girl, struggling meanwhile to fix that elusive sense of familiarity that became stronger in his mind every moment. ”

“ Your news is disquieting, although I have feared for the safety of the prince, my father, ever since war broke out. Anything is possible in Ironia now—even that they should want the death of a prince who has never had a thought beyond the welfare of his country! He is the most unselfish man that ever lived, I think, Mr Fenton. One who has not known him can have no conception of the way in which he has given himself to the service of Ironia. ”

“ My God, to have him within my reach and not stop him," groaned Fenton, stunned with the catastrophe that had occurred before his very eyes.
He reeled blindly in the rush of the enraged mob and was buffeted here and there. The gun-man had apparently been surrounded by accomplices and friends, for the vengeance-seeking mob was held back and hampered in its pursuit of the daring peasant. In the darkness and confusion the assassin disappeared, swallowed up in the agitated sea of humanity. ”