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Updated: May 3, 2025
"I am not thinking of Mirabel, but of Julius and Constantine. If Stampoff tells our young Bayard everything, Delgratz is no place for you and me, my veteran." Marulitch, though trembling with passion, could not fail to see that the Greek was remarkably nonchalant for one who had witnessed the utter collapse of ten years of work and expenditure.
Like every other person watching affairs on the Danube, he had read of Lord Adalbert Beaumanoir's adventure with the Austrian authorities, indeed, Europe had almost expected a declaration of war over the incident, but he did not know that Beaumanoir was still an inhabitant of Delgratz.
As it was, no four men in Delgratz could hope to force an entrance, and no more than four could attack it simultaneously. It was noteworthy that no one called on the King to come out.
Having secured a compartment for his mother and Beaumanoir, Alec made for the station master's office, meaning to obtain a messenger who might be trusted to deliver Stampoff's letter, and he happened to notice a policeman standing near a carriage door. A white face peered out through the window. It was Sobieski. The King and the waiter were quitting Delgratz by the same train!
Alec, bred in a society that treated such demonstrations with scant respect, was suddenly recalled to earth, and the business that lay before him seemed to be more in keeping with the modern directness of the railway bridge than with daydreams founded on a picturesque vision of Delgratz.
At the moment he really did not know that this was borrowed thunder, and assuredly the Kosnovians did not care. Already his utterances were being retailed with gusto. Before night, every adult inhabitant of Delgratz was likening their marvelous King, fallen from the skies, to a drum that should summon the Serbs to found the Empire of their dreams.
"You are happy, and that is what you would never have been in the Balkans. A curse rests on that unlucky land. Never a Delgrado or Obrenovitch has reigned a decade in peace and security. It was a red letter day for Alec when you brought him away from Delgratz, my dear," she continued, with a fond pressure of her hand on Joan's brown hair.
"I do not understand the why or wherefore of anything?" "Listen, then, and you will see that your dreamland is a prosaic place, after all. There is a man in Paris who receives letters daily from Kosnovia, and they tell of events that are not printed for the multitude. Last night, when I was certain we should go to Delgratz, I sought him and heard the latest news. Your Alec means to economize.
Beaumanoir broke in on her reverie in his usual happy-go-lucky style. "Not a bad looking crib, is it, Miss Joan?" said he. "I have promised Alec to remain in Delgratz until you are all settled down in it, nice and comfy. Then I wend my lonely way back to Paris. By Jove! I shall be something of a hero there shine with reflected glory eh, what?"
As for the elder Delgrado, he sulked until the President produced a bottle of imperial tokay, a luxury which the stout Sergius explained away by the statement that his house had never before been honored by so distinguished and brilliant a company. So Joan was prepared for her lover's departure from Delgratz soon after daybreak.
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