Long Live the King!

"That's more than I can say," Max replied. "Let us get back into the world first."

Next day they accordingly started on their homeward journey, but for the first week they were compelled to travel slowly, on account of Max's still enfeebled condition. Little by little, however, his strength returned to him, until, by the time they had reached the forest, which alone separated them from the village at the end of the railway, the same at which they had purchased the mules, he was almost himself again. On arrival they installed themselves at the hospederia, the same at which Bertram had announced his recognition of Max as the Crown Prince of Pannonia, and at which Moreas and the Spaniards had indulged in their orgie so many months before. What a variety of things had happened since they had said good-bye to it! Then, they had been setting out on the expedition, full of hope and confidence; now, they had returned, minus one of their party, and without the great wealth which they expected to bring with them. They had, however, the small bag which Max had brought with him, and this being so, on the morning following their arrival, Bertram set off for Rio, returning next day with an elderly individual who weighed, tested, and valued the stones. A price having been agreed upon between them, the money was paid over and each man received his share, after which the old gentleman returned to the capital, and all that was left was for Max and Bertram to decide what their future movements should be. The two Spaniards had determined to take a holiday, then they intended purchasing fresh mules with which to make another attempt to reach the place where the diamonds were hidden. Again and again they had endeavoured to induce Max to reveal the hiding-place, but without success. Finding entreaty useless, they attempted to bribe him, promising him first a quarter and at last half the stones, if he would supply them with the necessary information. But he was not to be tempted. Bertram and he had decided that since Moreas had paid for the stones with his life, they should not be touched. Accordingly, they departed next day for Rio.

"Have you formed any plans for the future?" inquired Bertram of Max, when they were alone together.

"None," Max replied, "except that I am determined to leave Brazil as soon as possible. Have you anything to propose?"

"Not at present," the other replied. "If only there were some fighting to be had, I should have liked to have tried my hand at soldiering. But when we left the world was so confoundedly peaceful, and I suppose it is still. There's one idea that I have at the back of my head, however. I don't know whether it would commend itself to you?"

"Tell me about it," said Max.

"Well, it concerns the South Sea Islands," said Bertram a little diffidently. "Ever since I was a youngster I've had a hankering to visit them. In fact, it was my original intention to do so, and if I hadn't got stranded in this country, who knows but what I might have been a king by this time."

"The South Sea Islands?" said Max at once. "I'm inclined to think that's not by any means a bad idea. And what was it your intention to do there besides founding a kingdom?"

"I thought of purchasing a schooner and going in for the island trade," the other answered. "It must be a jolly life, if all one hears is true. Sailing continually across blue seas, amongst the loveliest islands man can imagine, dealing with the pleasantest people on earth – "

"And figuring as the pièce de résistance at some native banquet, I suppose," answered Max with a laugh. "Seriously, I like the idea immensely. Why shouldn't we try it together? We're both in possession of a decent sum of money, and if we make our way to Buenos Ayres, and then across the Andes into Chili, we could easily get a boat from Valparaiso to Honolulu. We shouldn't find much difficulty in picking up a handy schooner I expect, and then the firm of Bertram & Mortimer could be placed on a definite footing. What do you say?"

"It's just the very thing I should enjoy," answered Bertram. "But what about yourself? Are you as determined as ever not to return to Europe?"

"Every bit as determined," Max replied. "In point of fact, I intend going a step further. As soon as we get to Rio I shall have a document drawn up in which I shall renounce, once and for all, any claim I may have upon the throne. Let my brother take it; he is a far better man in every way, and though you may think me a fool for saying so, I have felt for many years positively certain in my own mind that he is decreed by fate to occupy it."

With that, Max told Bertram the old legend of Michael's cross, and of the gipsy's prophecy concerning it.

"Do you really mean to say that you believe it?" asked Bertram when he had finished.

"I certainly do," Max answered, "and you can see for yourself how much of it has come true. Paul has Michael's cross upon his brow, and he will sit upon the throne as soon as the Republic shall come to an end. I am as confident of that as I am of anything. And now let us discuss the pros and cons of this South Seas business. I am all eagerness to embark upon it."

They did as he suggested, and for over an hour were busily engaged working out the details of the scheme. Eventually it was arranged that they should start for Rio next morning, and find some one there to draw up the deed of which Max had just spoken, and who could be trusted to keep his secret, and when it had been despatched to the proper quarter, make for the capital of the Argentine, and thence across the Andes into Chili, embarking as soon as a vessel could be found for the islands. That night Max dreamed of tropical islands lifting their palm-clad heads out of azure seas, of fast-sailing schooners, and a life that was all sunshine and excitement. When he woke he was even more keen on the notion than he had been on the previous day. They caught an early train for Rio, and towards the middle of the afternoon found themselves once more in the capital of the Republic. Now what Max had to do was to get his money out of the bank and to transact his legal business without Brockford or De Montezma becoming aware of it.

"I will give you my cheque," he said to Bertram, when they had taken up their abode at a small hotel at the opposite end of the town to that at which his friends had their offices. "You can cash it while I remain in the background."

Bertram agreed, and set off upon his errand. On entering the bank he placed the cheque upon the counter. The cashier picked it up and examined the signature with a look of surprise upon his face. The manager happened to be passing at the moment, and when the draft was shown to him he glanced sharply at Bertram.

"Pardon me," he began, "but might I request the favour of a few moments' conversation with you while the cashier is counting the money?"

"I shall be very pleased," said Bertram, and when the manager had given an instruction in an undertone to one of his clerks, he followed him into his private room. The door having been closed, and when the other had pushed forward a chair, Bertram inquired what he could do for him.

"I notice that you have presented a draft signed by Mr. Mortimer, who, a few months since, was employed in the firm of Montezma & Co., of this city. I also notice that the cheque is dated to-day, a circumstance which would seem to point to the fact that Mr. Mortimer is in Rio at the present moment."

"That is quite possible," Bertram returned stiffly. "He may be or he may not. I don't see how it concerns anyone but himself. I am not aware that he has done anything to necessitate his keeping out of the way!"

"I am afraid we are playing at cross purposes," said Doubleday. "Pray do not imagine that I am in any way antagonistic to his Royal – "

Bertram pricked up his ears. So the manager was also aware that Max was the Crown Prince of Pannonia? He was sorry for that; it might lead to complications.

"My only desire," the other continued, "for speaking to you about – well, about Mr. Mortimer, was that, should you know his address, you might be able to tell him how anxiously his friends have been seeking his whereabouts. If he would only grant them an interview, they would be so thankful."

"That, I feel sure, he will not do," said Bertram. "Nothing would induce him to think of such a thing."

The manager sighed.

"It seems a pity," he went on. "I cannot think why he should be so wilful."

"Nor I," answered Bertram. "The fact, however, remains that it is his own business, and he is entitled to conduct it as he pleases." As he said this he rose.

"I will see if your money is prepared," said the manager, following him.

"Many thanks," returned Bertram, and when he had received it from the cashier, he left the bank, the manager bidding him good-bye upon the doorstep. Then, having made sure he was not being followed by anyone from the bank, he set off as fast as he could go in the direction of the inn where he and Max had taken up their abode. He was not aware that Mr. Brockford had been standing on the opposite side of the street waiting for him to come out, and that as soon as he did so and had started on his walk, the other followed him, keeping a safe distance behind, but never for one moment losing sight of him. Reaching the inn, Bertram made his way to their sitting-room and handed Max the money. He was in the act of informing him of what had taken place at the bank, when there was a tap at the door. A moment later it opened, and Brockford stood before them.

Max sprang to his feet with an exclamation of astonishment.

"Brockford!" he cried, "what on earth does this mean? How did you know I was here?"

He looked at Bertram as if he thought he must be responsible for the other's presence.

"You do your friend an injustice if you suspect him," said Brockford. "He did not know that I was following him. It was Doubleday, the bank manager, who put me on the trail. He sent word to me that your friend was at the bank, and when he left I followed him here. Thank God, I have found you at last. We have searched the country for you. Oh, you foolish man, why did you run away like that?"

"Because my brother Paul was in Rio looking for me," Max replied simply. "To have remained here would have been to have fallen into his hands."

"And could you have fallen into kinder hands?"

"That is beside the point," said Max. "It is because of his love for me that I must keep out of the way. It may sound paradoxical to say so, but it is the truth."

"Well, you can keep out of the way no longer now," answered Brockford. "You have returned in the nick of time."

"Returned for what?" Max inquired in astonishment.

"Do you mean to say that you don't know?" asked the other.

"I know nothing," Max replied, with an unmistakable faltering in his voice. "We have been in the wilds so long that we are ignorant of all that has happened elsewhere. What is it?"

Bertram noticed that the hand resting on the back of the chair trembled.

"What have you to tell me?" he asked again.

"Is it possible that you are not aware that you are the King of Pannonia?" continued Brockford in an awed voice.

Max started back with an exclamation of horror.

"King!" he cried in a choking voice. "My God, man! What do you mean? You don't mean – that – that – "

"I mean that your father is dead, Sire," said Brockford quietly. "He died three months ago, and your mother followed him six weeks later."

This was more than Max could bear. He dropped into a chair and covered his face with his hands. For some minutes silence reigned in the room. Then he rose and, with a face white and haggard as a sere cloth, turned to Brockford.

"Tell me everything," he said. "I'm stronger now and can bear it."

Thereupon, Brockford, to whom I had written, in case he should hear of him, gave a complete résumé of all that had occurred during his absence. He informed him of our father's death, just at the time when there was a possibility of Pannonia becoming a Monarchy once more. He told him of our mother's end such a short time afterwards; of the gradual crumbling away of the Republic, and of the war with Mandravia to which it had given rise. He revealed to him the fact that being unable to find Max, search how I would, and seeing that there was no time to lose, I had sprung into the breach, and, supported by the Count von Marquart, now a very old man, but as keen and self-assertive as of yore, and the majority of the nobles, had seized the throne and declared myself Regent in his stead. Max's face, so Brockford has since told me, when he heard the news, was almost transformed.

"I have heard a great deal during my life," said the latter, "of what is called kingly dignity. I never realised what it was, however, until I looked at his. At that moment he was every inch a king."

"Father and mother dead," he said, "and my country in danger. There is no doubt now; no doubt at all."

The others did not understand what he meant at the time, but they have learnt since.

"My friends," he began in a softer voice than he had yet used, "my kind friends, you see how this news has affected me. Will you give me time to think it over?"

They were about to withdraw in order to leave him alone with his thoughts.

"Will your Majesty believe that all I have is at your Majesty's disposal?" said Brockford, in an undertone before he left.

Max started as if he had been stung.

"No, no!" he cried, "you must not call me that."

An hour later he was back at Brockford's house at Paquetá, where for some hours he shut himself up and would see nobody. He was fighting the greatest battle of his life. During the afternoon he called for all the newspapers that could be procured, in order that he might study the war from its commencement. Later on he left his room and found the other two men in the garden. Traces of the struggle he had passed through still lingered on his face as he greeted them. It was plainly seen that he had arrived at a decision.

"Gentlemen," he said, "I ask you to give me your words of honour, that what I am about to say shall never pass your lips."

He waited for them to speak. They looked first at each other and then at him. At last they gave him their assurance that his wish should be respected.

"I have fought it out by myself," he said, "and have come to a conclusion. I shall return to Pannonia at once!"

"God bless you!" muttered Brockford, but not so low that Max could not hear it.

"My country is at war, and if she is to be victorious, every son who has the strength to wield a sword should rally to her assistance. It is my intention to go back and offer my services, not in the capacity of her king, but taking my place beside the humblest in the ranks. I place my life in the hands of God, and leave the issue with Him. If Pannonia is victorious, then I shall have proved my love for her, and it is possible that what you wish may some day come to pass. If not, then I shall have done what I shall always believe to have been my duty."

"In that case, I have a request to make," said Bertram nervously.

"What is it?" Max inquired. "It would be hard if I could not grant it, seeing that I already owe you a debt I never can repay."

"It is that, if you are going, you will allow me to accompany you?"

"You shall do so if you wish," said Max quietly, and as he said it he held out his hand, which the other took.

Two days later Max and Bertram sailed for Europe.