"STAR" TALES.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 9112, 18 December 1907, Page 4

"STAR" TALES.

A RACE FOR A CROWN. <By W. H. WILLIAMSON.) [Au. Rights Reserved.] CHAPTER Vni. : -'. SACRIFICES ON THE ALTAB. The Castle of Vrenden., where the I>uke of Rugart lived, had as its mistress that Duchess of Lossbach whom #c know. She had married th© Duke of Lossbach, who after dissipating a large fortune died and left his wife a legacy •jjfcf ; Experience. Happily, the Duchess «was not soured. She was a keen sagacious woman, who kept a wide and alert outlook on the world, and made it her particular care to see her nephew kept in the path where his interests would lead him. He was always Straying — she paid. She had seen her husband help the worthless, and be of good cheer ftrfth those who deserved to be whipped, .find, she determined to see that her feephew was neither knave nor fool, nor snared nor fooled in turn. To know Duke Rollo intimately was 46 love him. He rose with the lark and spread radiancy like the sun. He raced this strong and bent to the feeble. The Duchess always kept a sharp look out when he was succouring the feeble. He ■would have given his estates to feed the poor, if earthly wisdom had not been, f practised on his behalf, and to his reJ straint r So to this castle and to these two J principals came the beautiful Countess von Bailestrom, and, following fn her train, Bitz, the faithful. It happened that as the Countess entered the Castle the Duke, was preparing to it. He was going on a hunting Jipedition, and would be absent a week at least, so the situation was abundantly interesting. The Countess asked for . the Duke, but was presented to the Duchess. ' " " Countess," said the Duchess, welsoming her warmly, " this I did not expect. You are more welcome than good news. Have you met the DukeP" , ! ( "N«o Your Grace, and I havo come to see him." The Duchess thought many things in i >. moment, but the meeting between those blue eyes and the Duke she imagined with interest. I r "I haven't seen you sine© you were «• high," she said, putting her hand on the top of the ottoman. \" And you jprant to see the Duke! I'd forgotten far the moment. You must 'forgive me. iWhat-of the Count, your father?"' The Countess told the story. ." The Duchess listened attentively and f pathetically without saying a word. looked keenly at the Countess n the incidents of the journey and nbs of Dr Bitter^were narrated, and tt the story was told and the Countess 'added her pleadings, the Duchess looked perplexed. "He will come," continued the Countess. " You will persuade him. It is xay father's life that is at stake. 'And m* father would do anything for fcheDoW' "Yes," said the Duchess, half to nerself and thinking seriously. . The Countess was chiHed by this . seeming lack of enthusiasm. "He will come," she said affrighted. jFailure here had not suggested itself j toy her. She had said to herself that to go was to succeed. The Duchess* manner was cold. That, perhaps, was no wonder to the **»»H«efKier, who knows the penalty the Dpjke xaust pay for crossing* the border. The Duchess, who knew this, knew also that the Count von Ballestrom wa6 a powerful and good friend. She saw an Ugly problem. If the Duke did as the Countess wished it meant that he resigned a kingdom — or the chance of it »yfc© save her father's life. If he refused the situation had few pleasant . points. If, of course, the Duke did not jiear of the matter till it was too late, • these displeasing features disappeared. 43&e| Duchess had a heart and a head. She was willing to give the Countess all the help her heart could afford, but she felt she must reserve her head for the Duke. ; She temporised. ; She imagined the I>uke was away on the road to his hnnting-boa:, since the Countess had evidently not_ met him. "It is a dreadful, position," she said. "The Duke will come," pleaded the i&ughter. "If we can find him" — with th© Se'ntal reserve "we must riot find m." \?'VTou won't forget the time? We only had fourteen days, and this is the Berenth. Is he,far away? Please send it once?" "We must send at once," said the Duchess, etill greatly troubled at the ' situation. " The truth is, Countess, • the Duke has gone hunting.^ We never i can rely on finding him easily when he, tsoea on these expeditions. It is very\ fcad." -■" ; : "You wilß not let it be sad," wrung the,, voice of the dismayed girl. "I •have Bitz with me. He will go after his Highness. Let him be called and send him. Don't , wait, please. These may be my father's last hours." "Horrible!" ejaculated the Duchess. I • "You speak and look as though my ■ father must die. The Duke will surely never refuse to speak & word to save , the Count von Ballestrom. "Why do J . you Icok.so terribly mournful?" ! >' "I am mournful, chiM. It is a terribly imoqrnful business. Suppose w<? do not find the Duke in time? Do 'you think they mean what they said ■ in Runick — I' am sure they do. They • hate the Count only a degree Jess than ; Rollo himself." ■ ' l . .The. Duchess rose and was wildly tossed in spirit. The agony of >. decision, seemed to be hers. She had achance of saving the life of this girl's father — at the cost of a crown. ' "Does the Count know of this journey?" she asked almost casually. . .*' I don't know. They would not let «ne see him." ." V."Ahl" It was a light to the Duchess. She wondered if the Count

had accepted the bargain] to do so was not his manner, jjle was more accustomed to make surrender for the Duke of Rugart than beg for favours of him. Then the idea swiftly broke upon the Duchess. Does the daughter know what she asks? "You know the position of the, Duke?" she asked. " What position?" " His position in respect to the Grand Duke" "He ifi the heir — he will) succeed." "It is not sure." - *' Not sure? My father always says his Highness the Duke of Rugart will be the next Grand Duke. I never heard there was a condition, or that the succession was not sure. My father would be disappointed to hear that." ~ The Duchess was moved by the •words. So this beautiful girl, who pleaded for her father's life, did not know the price she asked another to pay for it. The Duchiees felt she had a, way of escape from her own misery of choice. She could at least -make the Countess understand the position of the Duke 'arid what crossing the frontier meant to him. She was loth to begin, for the end was not only cruel, but the way was almost humiliating. She quickly decided, that this news must be her last caret. She would be ablte to send messengers after the Duke, and then, before he arrived, she could artfully let the Countess know what the sacrifice was that she wished of the Duke. She felt slightly relieved. But the next moment her resolution w«s crumpled. She heard a merry voice just outside her door. It was the voice of Duke Rollo I , .The Countess did not know it, but the Duchess did. If he came in and J the Countess told her story the Duchess knew he would go to Vfan. To save the Count's life he -would sacrifice almost his /own. She had frequently scolded him for his pTodipalty^ of chivalry — blessed him for it. behind "his back! For a moment she was egregiously agitated. The delicacy of the situation was thrilling;. If the Duke came in there would be a scene, and the music of a. woman's voice, and the look in her eyes, would make him deem sacrifice a thing to his advantage and chivalry mere selfishness. It was a tense moment to* the Duchess — but the Duke did hot enter. \ The Duchess, fearful of returning footsteps, knew she had no time to lose. She felt her position keenly. She was to take the wines from the butterfly, to rob the lark of ite voice, io turn sun- I shine from the flower. It was a nause- I ous task— to ask a .girl to sacrifice her i father's^life for another man's advancement. That, put coldly and hardly, Tvas the attitude the Duchess had to adopt. I " Don't you know, Countess," she said at length, " what rules the succession to the throne of Tenemia?" "No — but pardon me, Your Gracecan you send after the Duke? Every minute may be precious." The Countess lad feelings that were not responsive to the 'gossip of knowledge. <c It is. We shall easily find him. He is in th© Castle." "In the Castle," repeated the Countess in radiant delight. She flew to her peaks of happiness again. " I heard his voice a moment ago," said the Duchess. " But I want you to <act with your eyee open. The Crows have got us on the horns of a dilemma. The Crows are the other side. Let me tell you 6ome hard facts. Come closer." The elder woman pulled the younger one beside her on the .ottoman, and iHoked at her. "You are brave and beautiful, Countess; they are two blessed virtues. There are many rogues -in Tenemia." The Duchess had her own manner of conducting a conversation, and the Countess did not interrupt "her. " They swarm. They have got hold .of your father. -The Count and I are good friend©. He is one of the champions of the Duke, who is not the sole and only heir to the throne of Tenemia, but a mere candidate." "A candidate!" "Yes. I told you there were rogues in Tenemia. The Duk« has a cousin who is to compete with him— race him, fight him. maybe. Don't look so aston-isne-d, ohild! You have never heard of this?" "Not a word.. How — interesting." " Horribly interesting. The two cousins — competitors for the crown, remember are banished: and while Duke Rollo stays at, Vrenden, Otto, the Crow— the other one — lives at Bosen* When His Most Serene Highness, the' prleeent Grand Duke, is no more, these two cousins are to race for the- throne"." The Countess wafe amazed, and showed it. "The winner — winsl" added the Duchess. X "It is like a book," said the Countess, i ",Much worse," retorted the elder woman, andthen she added. "But if either" of the two Dukes sets foot over the border — sets foot in Tenemia before the death of the Grand Duke, he gives

up his chance of the crown by that act." " How " began the Countess, the romance of the story being for the moment uppermost. "Horrible!" said the Duchess, wish- ! ing to make the Countess understand. i But there was no need for emphasis. The Countess saw, and gasped. "Ah!" she cried out, and looked wildly at the other woman, who took her b'ythe hand and was tenderly sympathetic. "My father!" gasped the Countess. "I said there were rogues in Runick." The Countess struggled with her emotion, and the Duchess took her carefully, like a mother, to her bosom. Sheer sympathy made the tears Sow. But the Countess was brave, after all. She got up and* looked with her dewy violet eyes at the Duchess. "I understand," she said. "If the Duke comes to Vlan my father's life may be saved, but his Highness throws away his chance of a throne." , It was a bitter position, for the Countess. "My father," she moaned, and bit her lip, while her face quivered. ; " Yet the Duke has only a chance of the throne ; he may give up nothing, after all " "Only a chance," murmured the Duchess. "But it is a chance," said the Countess after a pause. "What must I do?" 6he cried put at length, as the Duchess embraced her once more. "My father " There was silence for a moment, and only the bond 'of sympathy passed between the two women. The Countess had not for an instant seemed to regard the Duchess as one who said her father must die; somehow, shs knew the Duchess was torn too. v. "Let us think," said the elder woman at length. " First ; we know, v |>he miserable wretches in Runick would do almost anything to get the Duke over the frontier. They have got the Count von • Ballcstrom in their power, and — I don't suppose for ''one moment that your Herr Doctor man is ill at all. It is a dodge — that's the trick." The two women looked at each other with eager eyes as though this helped them. They soon saw, however, the imperturbability of Fact. What did it matter if it were a trick ? " They will do- it," said th c Duchess. "Do whatP" shrieked the Countess. " They are rogues," was the evasive reply. "But my father— ♦what can we do?" It was a heartrending cry and the Duchess, who shirked nothing, felt it ring through her heart. "Sometimes," she said quietly, almost soothingly, "great causes demand great sacrifices." The great eyes of the Countess looked fixedly at the finger-post of Fate, and the Duchess was so moved by the superlative sorrow on the tender face that she had to avert her eyes from the picture lest she should break down ; that, she knew, must not bappen. She bit her lip, mastered her emotion, and continued : — " Those who live in the sunshine of i a throne, also live in the shadow of I death. In every age scarcely a monarch has ascended a throne but someone gave his life for him. Think even of what ha 6 happened in Tenemia — think of VonV Egben— the brave Roland, and in the history of every country some .brave man makes sacrifices for his sovereign." The Countess had banished the) look of agony. A pride of race had got. hold of her. "The, Von Ballestroms are not cowards," she said. " Nobody dares hint at that in this castle," repllied the Duchess. " But T hare nV>t done. I shall not choose your path — it is a cruel choice for you,

child. Your father or your sovereign — it is horrible!" The Countess was struggling violently; the sympathy of the JPuchess accentuated even the pathos of the whole position. The Duchess continued : " The Duke ifi chivalry itself. If he knows that the only way to save the Count's life is by relinquishing his right to the throne he is very likely to make the sacrifice. % He looks upon the Count as one of his best friends. And he will be sure to go to see this Herr Doctor rosrue if you ask him." The Duchess was thinking of those bHue eyes. " I shall not ask him," suddenly blurted the Countess, in a voice that was hoarse. Although the Duchess was, in a sense, relieved at this decision on the part of the Countess, the agony on the girl's face wrung her own heart. "Come, my child," she said tenderly — and the' Countess broke utterly at that. The Duchess also was not able to Ifeep the veil before her feelings. After a while the elder woman said: " It is a most terrible sacrifice. They might not do to the Count as they have threatened, even if their trick fails; but.it is not right to reckon on that. The choice must be made fairly. The Duke has, perhaps, no right to ask for such, a sacrifice, and, I feel sure, if he knew of it he wouM not accept it. On the other hand, the Count" would not accept his life at snch a cost — that also I am certain of; and it is aleo for that certainty that you were- not allowed to eee<yi>ur father before leaving Runick." . "I know," said the Countess, with a face pal© as snow, "that my father would give his life for the Duke. Since it is in the Duke's cause. — it shall be — as he would." . i Has the chance of a crown bo depended on a woman's word before? The daughter pronounced her father's doom; she seemed to realiee that the moment she had spoken, for she gazed vacantly before her as though into blackness — then 6he collapsed in the Duchess's arms, who kissed her and dropped tears on her and brought her to. When the Countess opened her eyes, as- she lay in the Duchess's arms, Rollo himself came in the room. i The Duchess rejoiced greatly that she had had time to tell her story. " This is the Countess von Ballestrom," she 6aid, rising. The Duke took hold of the Countess's hand. "No one was ever more welcome," he said. " Why have I not seen you oftener?" , " I stay much at Ballon, Your Highness." \ "Either the air of Ballen or the air of Vrenden does not agree with you. Why this paleness?" " After the drive, sir; it is nothing — merely a woman's weakness." "Or strength?" That was the Duchess's idea, but she wondered why the Duke should say it. "I must pray to take leave of Your Highness," §aid the Countess,* feeling the tragedy of the hours. • "iSo soon? Can't we entertain the CouintessH" Rollp said to the Duchess. " The Countess will return," she answered. " The Countess eeems to know how to return," he said. ; "I thank Your Highness for kindly desiring me to stay," said the Countess: " but I pray you to excuse me and to allow me to withdraw." "You go to Tenemia?" "Yes." "To Runick?" , ' " Perhaps." V A (' "Ah! I have not been to Runick." " You will go some day, sir." "Some day — which is your first stop?" " Vlan — we may rest a night at Binal, I think it is. 1 ' " You must really go at once?" It seemed as iff he were anxious for her departure. "It is urgent," she replied. The Duchess was proud of her sex and her class. She looked admiringly at the Countess, who was acting splendidly. " Then I will ccc you safe to " The frontier," said the Duchess. " vian is your destination, Countess?" ' "Yes — it is on my way," and there was something in his manner that awakened her hope. "Then," he said, "I will see you safe to Vlan." "Vlan!" j „ , Tho cry was simultaneous from : the two women! • 'The Duchess restrained herself. After all, a man's life was at stake. " No, Your Highness," said the Countess, not only bravely,, but almost sternly. , " Are you already disposed to show mo the way I must go, Countess? He had not yet said why he had re~ sollved to go to Vlan — was he joking? The idea occurred to the Duchess, and she was afraid that the truth would out. The Countess, too, was at a Ices for words in the uncertainty or the situation. But the Duke cleared the air. " I saw your man Bitz outside — ■ he told me," he said simply. The Countess was overcome with gratitude. But she reverted to her resolve, and the elder woman, who had watched and waited, who had set her hopes high and played her cards for the realisation of one great chance, saw the whole put down as a stake between a man and a maid. "Your Highness must not — I will not accept the sacrifice. The Count would not, if he knew. We can die for your Highness " She spoke uneasily. It i was hard to refuse as well as hard to accept. "If he can die for me — I can crass the frontier for him." "Have you weighed all?" said the Duchess, with a face paler than them all. . "All," he said] and he kissed her. She might have expostulated, but the sight of the Countess offering the : sacrifice of her father was a barrier to the flow of words. " Cease, Countess, 1 ' said the Duke, ' after an expostulation. " I go with

l you to Vlan — unless you ■would rather go without me " She blushed painfully at the j thought. ) "But in any case I shall go," he continued. " Don't think me foolish. ) Let us not make pretence that I give > up nothing. I cede hopes. But cir- ; i cumstances have caught us. The Crows > have stolen a march on' us. They hold > j the Count, and have got his death i | warrant, it seems. Now they hate him [ i almost as much as me, and if I don't • I go over the frontier — the Count dies. Don't ask me if I ought to do it. It > is very annoying to he beaten by th© Crows; but it would be foul to walk ■ to a throne on the corpses of one's . friends." He walked to the older woman, who was casting ashes on a , grave. "It is better to bo happy," he said. . "That is very well for the; common people. To us power is happiness — or ought to be." "You are greatly disappointed?" "I have just realised why people go in convents." " Not your kind," he said. She looked at him admiringly; then she wept. i The Countess protested within reasonable limits^ but the Duke was not to be moved. . He showed his heart — and lost it. Bitz rode and made jokes with imaginary foes — Tombs and Filsenetein appearing frequently in comical situations—he was in joy's grip. The Countess was in a whirl of emotion. The Duke sat beside her in the carriage, and they talked of other things than the death of men and the crowns of rulers The Duchess had told her she had beautiful eyes— the Duke observed them too. He began to wonder if he were making a sacrifice after all — he came very near to the conclusion that it was a good thing for him that the Count von Ballestrom had been condemned in Runick, for it brought the Countess to Vrenden. "It is better to be happy," he Tiad said. The Duchess, thinking alone, was be- ' coming convinced that he would be quite confirmed in that view by the time he reached Vlan. She was a shrewd woman. (To be continued next Monday.)