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"What treason brought him here, then?" she asked haughtily, pointing indignantly at Stovik. The latter smiled deprecatingly, as Sobieska answered, "Part of a Russian plot, Highness, of which, so far as we can ascertain, this gentleman has been the innocent victim. It was by such a plan they sought to lure all the patriots within the boundaries of our land, then to draw their net about us.
I know your rightful name as little as I am sure of my own." "Your Majesty's rightful name is Stovik Fourth." Then Sutphen presented each in turn. Carter came last. The eyes of these two, so near an age, instinctively sought out the other and recognized him as a possible rival.
He read a question in Josef's eyes which changed into a defiance as the latter read in the newcomer's that the incident had not escaped him. Just then Stovik caught him by the arm. "Look, Major," he cried, indicating a vivacious Austrienne at no great distance from where they stood, "isn't that a dainty morsel?"
His hands were crossed upon the sceptre he had never dreamed of wielding, while, dearer than all to him in life, upon his breast they placed the heirloom he had prized, the grand medal of the Lion. His body was placed in the mausoleum of the first Stovik, his ancestor. No royal name was cut, but the place of his burial was deeply graved in the hearts of all present.
Then deliberately, that the glasses might never be profaned with a less loyal toast, the guests snapped the fragile stems between their fingers and cast the dainty bowls to the floor in tinkling fragments. At a signal from Stovik the banquet was over. He arose, and, taking Trusia by the hand, escorted her to the great hall to lead the cotillion with him.
How much the King had disclosed, how much the woman had discovered, Carter was unable to find out, as Stovik maintained a sulky silence in the face of all inquiries. Calvert Carter had a very democratic conversation with His Majesty of Krovitch. They were standing on the platform of the station at Vienna waiting with ill-concealed impatience for the train which was to carry them into Krovitch.
A guard was drawn up about the platform on which stood the little group of officers. Urged to the front, King Stovik was the first to step into view of the throng. Recognizing him, the officers drew their swords and raised them high above their heads. "Long live King Stovik!" they cried. For the life of a sigh there was a silence while the multitude realized that this man was their King.
"A demigod like our ancient sovereign, Stovik First," she responded reverently. "So you have deified His Majesty already?" "God save His Majesty from ill," she answered, "but I think he is very human and handsome." She blushed uneasily. A merry peal of laughter from the group about the King drew their attention.
Carter, from the throng, with hungry eyes saw but one wondrous form, supported on the arm of royalty, glide through the graceful maze. A lull came in the music and Stovik, bowing the Duchess to her seat, turned with evident relish to a coquettish brunette who had assured him that they were first cousins.
The high spirited, whole-souled girl was face to face at last with the man she had vowed to marry to give her land a king. Unswervingly her fearless eyes probed to the soul of Stovik and dragged it forth to weigh it in the balance with her own. Fate had denied her heart the right of choosing, so she had prayed that at least her King should be great and strong of soul.
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