"Carl Gustaf," says I, and to the sentries: "Let no one pass."
There was a feminine squeaking from within, and the door opened on the pert little red-haired lady-in-waiting whom Rudi had fancied; she was staring astonishment with one eye and rubbing the sleep out of the other—a very pretty picture of disarray, with one tit peeping out of her night-dress. It's as well I'm leaving Strackenz, thinks I, for I wouldn't have been a faithful husband for long.
"Where's your mistress?" says I, and at that moment the inner door opened, and Irma appeared, a gown pulled hastily round her shoulders.
"What is it, Helga? Who was knock—", and then at the sight of me she gave a little scream, swayed for a moment, and then flung herself forward into my arms. "Carl! Oh, Carl! Carl!"
Oh, well, I might have been faithful for a while, anyway; the feel of that warm young body against mine was like an electric shock, and it was no pretence when I hugged her to me and returned the kisses that she rained on my lips and cheeks.
"Oh, Carl!" She stared up at me, tears on her lovely face. "Oh, my dear, what has happened to your head?"
For a moment I didn't understand; then I remembered. My fine bald poll hadn't had the razor over it for two or three days now, and I was sporting a fine black bristle, like an old brush. Trust a woman to hit on the least important thing!
"Nothing, my dear darling," says I, and smothered her lovingly. "All's well, now that I have you again."
"But what has happened? Where have you been? I was mad with anxiety—" She gave a little scream. "You are wounded! Your arm—"
"There, there, sweeting," says I, giving her another squeeze for luck. "Set your fears at rest. It's a scratch, nothing more." I turned her round, murmuring endearments, and led her into her own bedchamber, away from the delighted and curious gaze of young Helga. I shut the door, and at once her questions broke out afresh. I hushed her and sat down on the edge of the bed—it would have been splendid to curl up with her, but there wasn't time.
"There has been a rebellion—a plot, rather, against the duchy. Your throne, our lives, were threatened." I cut short her cry of dismay. "It is all over—nearly over, at any rate. There is a little still to do, but thanks to the loyalty of certain of your subjects— our subjects—the worst is passed, and there is no more to fear."
"But … but I don't understand," she began, and then that beautiful face hardened. "Who was it? Those agitators—those creatures of the gutter! I knew it!"
"Now, now," says I soothingly, "calm yourself. It is all past; Strackenz is safe—and most of all, you are safe, my sweet." And I wrapped her up again, most enjoyably.
She began to tremble, and then to sob. "Oh, Carl, oh, thank God! You have really come back! Oh, my dear, I have been ready to die! I thought … I thought you were …"
"Ah, well, you see, I wasn't. There, there. Now dry your eyes, my darling, and listen." She blinked at me, dabbing at her eyelashes—God, she was a beauty, in her flimsy night-rail—they seemed to be wearing them very low in Strackenz that winter, and I was beginning to come all over of a heat, what with her nearness and the scent of her hair, and the troubled adoration in her lovely eyes.
"It is quite crushed, this—this plot," says I. "No, hear me out—I shall explain everything in time, but for the moment you must trust me, and do precisely as I say. It is done-finished—safe, all but for a few details, which require my attention… ."
"Details? What details?"
"There's no time now. I must be away again." She cried out at this. "It is only for a moment, darling—a few hours, and I shall be with you, and we'll never be parted again—never."
She started to weep again, clinging to me, refusing to let me go, protesting that I would be going into danger, and all the rest of it. I tried to comfort her, and then the baggage opened her mouth on mine, and pushed her hand between my thighs, murmuring to me to stay.
By gum, it agitated me; I wondered if I had time? No, by God, I daren't—I had lost precious minutes already. She was stroking away, and my head was swimming with her, but I just put lust second to common sense for once, and forced her gently away.
"You must stay here," says I firmly. "With a strong guard on the palace and on your room itself. Oh, darling, believe me, it is vital! I would not go, but I must—and you must remember that you are a duchess, and the protector of your people—and, and all that. Now will you trust me, and believe me that I do this for the safety of Strackenz and my own darling?"
These royal wenches are made of stern stuff, of course; tell 'em it's for their country's sake and they become all proudly dutiful and think they're Joan of Arc. I gave her some more patriotism mixed with loving slush, and at last she agreed to do what she was told. I swore I'd be back in an hour or two, and hinted that we would stay in bed for a week, and at this she flung herself on me again.
"Oh, my darling!" says she, wriggling against me. "How can I let you go?"
"Just for a bit," says I. "And then—ah, but I can't stop now." She was getting me into a fever. "No, I promise I shall take care. I won't get hurt—and if I do, there'll be another chap along shortly—that is, no … I mean … I shall return, my darling." I gave her one last tremendous hug, and left her stretching out her arms to me. It was quite touching, really—she loved me, you know, and if I hadn't been in such a damned hurry I'd have been quite sorry to leave her.
Next door Mistress Helga had restored herself to decency, but from the flush on her cheeks I suspected she'd been listening at the door. I instructed her sternly to look after her mistress and to see that she kept to her room; then I stepped out into the passage. The sentries were stiff as ramrods; I repeated my orders that no one was to pass, either way, and set off for the clock tower.
It wasn't difficult to find; up another flight of the main stairs—there were two more sentries at the top, whom I sent to join Irma's guard—and then up a spiral stairway and along a short passage to a wrought-iron gateway. Just before the gate there was a little guard-room, where I found an ensign and two sentries; the men were playing cards and the ensign was lounging in a chair, but at sight of me they were on their feet in an instant, goggling and fumbling with buttons. I lost no time.
"Fahnrich," says I, "there has been an attempt at a coup d'etat. The duchess's life has been threatened."
They stared at me aghast.
"No time to tell you more," I went on briskly. "The situation is in hand, but I have to leave the palace at once in order to take charge at the scene of the outbreak. You understand? Now, then, what's your name?"
"W-w-wessel, please your highness," he stammered.
"Very good, Fahnrich Wessel. Now, attend to me. For the safety of the duchess, I have already mounted a guard on her apartments. You, with your men here, will proceed there at once, and you will take command. You will permit no one—no one, you understand—to pass into her highness's apartment until I return. Is that clear?"
"Why—why, yes, your highness. But our post here—the crown jewels… ."
"There is a jewel, infinitely more precious to us all, to be guarded," says I portentously. "Now, take your men and go quickly."
"Of course, highness … on the instant." He hesitated. "But, pardon, highness—it is the first order of the palace guard that never shall the jewels be left unwatched. These are explicit instructions… ."
"Fahnrich Wessel," says I, "do you wish to be a lieutenant some day? Or would you prefer to be a private? I know the sacred value of the regalia as well as you, but there are times when even jewels are unimportant." (I couldn't think of one, offhand, but it sounded well.) "So, off with you. I take full responsibility. Indeed, I'll do better. Give me the keys, and I shall carry them myself."