The Traitors Part 29

Mr. Van Decht nodded.

"Is that so? Well, nowadays the countries who place the picturesque before the useful are very few and far between. I guess it's as well for the community at large that it is so. You would scarcely call that broken-down old omnibus, dragged along by a lame mule, a credit to Theos or a particularly picturesque survival."

Marie shrugged her shoulders, and dismissed the subject with a little gesture of contempt. Mr. Van Decht waited for a minute, and then, as she remained silent, continued--

"A country which neglects the laws of progress is not a country which can ever hope for prosperity. Don't you agree with me, sir?" he asked the King.

Ughtred nodded.

"I am afraid that I do," he admitted. "Theos, with its vineyards and hand-ploughs, its simple hill-folk and its quaint village towns, is, from an artistic point of view, delightful. Yet I am bound to admit that for the sake of its children and the unborn generations, I would rather see factory chimneys in its valleys and mine shafts in the hills. The people are poor, and so long as we have to import everything we use and wear, we must get poorer and poorer. The country is productive enough. We have minerals and a wonderful soil. What we need is capital and enterprise."

Marie shuddered.

"And you are a Tyrnaus!" she murmured, with a sidelong glance of reproach.

"It is my fortune," he said, "good or bad, to know more of the world outside than those who came before me. Please G.o.d, I am going to leave Theos a richer and happier country when my days here are spent. If we are spared from war I shall do it."

"In future," Marie said, "I shall dread war less. I begin to see that there are other evil things."

She rose and bowed slightly to the King.

"Your Majesty will excuse me," she said. "I find the air a little cold."

She pa.s.sed down the terrace steps, her maid a few yards behind. A certain reserve fell upon the others.

"I am afraid," Sara said to Nicholas of Reist, "that your sister does not approve of me."

He hesitated.

"Marie," he said, "is pa.s.sionately faithful to all the traditions of our family and our race. This is a conservative country, and no one more so than she. I myself am in close sympathy with her. Yet my reason tells me that we are both wrong. Our peasantry are finding already the struggle for existence a severe one--a single failure in the crops would mean a famine. It has occurred to me, Mr. Van Decht, that the advice of a man of affairs such as yourself may be very useful to us."

Ughtred rose up.

"You shall talk progress together," he said, "while I show Miss Van Decht my pictures."

Marie held the note in her fingers, looking at it doubtfully. It was addressed to her, thrust secretly into her maid's hand by a stranger in the crush outside the palace gates. At least that was the girl's story. She tore it open.

"You are a patriot, the sister of Nicholas of Reist, and the King's friend. By you he may be warned. The American woman who with her father has come to Theos, was betrothed to him in London. She has come to claim her position. The people of Theos will never accept as their queen a woman of humble birth, the child of tradespeople. Let the King be warned."

She tore the note into a thousand pieces, and walked restlessly up and down the great room. Her eyes were lit with fire, and a scarlet spot burned in her cheeks.

"Oh, if he should dare," she murmured. "If he should dare!"

She stopped abruptly before the picture of Rudolph. The flickering light of fifty wax candles from the huge silver candelabra on the oaken table lit up the dull canvas. It was Ughtred himself who looked down at her.

"Queen of Theos!" she murmured. "Why not? We have drunk together from the King's cup."

"Countess!"

She turned quickly round. Brand had come silently into the room.

CHAPTER XXIV

"You!"

Her surprised interjection recalled to him for the first time the hour and the strangeness of his visit. Yet he attempted little in the way of excuse.

"I may stay five minutes," he begged. "You are alone?"

"It is very late," she murmured.

He pointed out of the great window at the far end of the room.

"Your brother is attending the King. If he should return--well, mine is no idle errand. I can justify my coming, even at this hour."

Then she noticed that he was not dressed for the evening, that he was pale, and that there was trouble in his eyes. She led him into a smaller room, pushed open a window, and beckoned him to follow her down the worn grey steps into the gardens.

"This is my favourite corner," she said. "Beyond are the flower gardens, and the air here at night is always sweet. You shall sit with me, my friend, and you shall tell me what it is that brings you with this look of trouble in your face."

His eyes remained fixed upon her with a sudden pa.s.sionate wistfulness.

She was very sweet and gracious, and her slow speech seemed to him more musical than ever. So he sat by her side, and a little sea of white satin and lace and soft draperies covered up all the s.p.a.ce between them, for it had been a State dinner at the palace, and he found speech very difficult.

"Now this is restful and very pleasant," she said, after a long pause.

"But you must tell me why you have come. It was not by chance--to see me? But no? You spoke also of my brother."

Her eyes sought his--a spice of coquetry in their questioning gleam.

But the cloud lingered upon his face.

"I would not have dared to come at such an hour," he said, "if my visit were an ordinary one."

"How very unenterprising," she murmured. "I am sure that this is much the pleasantest time of the day."

"Countess," he said, slowly, "is Baron Domiloff a friend of yours?"

"Of mine? But no. Why do you ask such a question?"

"He has been banished from Theos. Did you know that he was hiding still in the city?"

She shook her head slowly.

"I know nothing," she answered. "How strange that you should ask me."