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Updated: June 12, 2025
"But 'Gene but M. Delmotte does live here," she cried, in apprehension of the departure of these lordly and apparently affluent strangers who might aid poor 'Gene. The elderly gentleman stopped on hearing this. He regarded her with more chilling politeness. "And you," he asked, "are Mme. Delmotte?" "Oh, no, monsieur," she replied simply. "His his companion?"
A cut over the head rendered me unconscious and I fell across Delmotte. Supposing that we were dead, anxious for repairs themselves, the Russians did not disturb us. About dusk I came to and aided Delmotte across the frontier. I returned, determined to reinforce you and Her Grace if I could catch up with you, for I had found out how things were at your first stopping-place.
"No, Your Majesty," replied Carter, no whit annoyed by the other's ill-temper; "I never threaten. I promise." That was all that was said. Neither Eugene Delmotte in his proper person nor the future ruler of Krovitch was able, however, to withstand the cool, hard glitter in the American's eyes. They boarded the waiting train as they came to this understanding.
Divested of his fancied power, Delmotte was again the amiable boulevardier, as could be seen by the manner in which he received the plaudits of the men, with whom he now was rated as a comrade-in-arms. Zulka, meanwhile, having learned how Sobieska had unearthed Carrick's claims to the crown, had approached and lifted the lifeless hand to his lips.
Not yet enlightened, Zulka now approached Delmotte, before whom he knelt. "Your Majesty absolves me for leaving my post?" he besought. "I am not your king, Count," said the Parisian, honestly chagrined at his false position. "He lies dead over there," and he indicated the temporary bier. "I have unhappily been the victim of an imposture."
"Oh, then you know about him, messieurs?" she said. "You will help him? You are his friends?" She was happy for her neighbor. "Only a few of a great many thousands," replied Sutphen ponderously. "Tell me, mademoiselle, have you any er er claims upon M. Delmotte? Are you betrothed? Any claims of er er sentiment?" The girl's eyelids dropped as she answered, "Not that he is aware of, monsieur."
The girl nodded; she was proud of her friend's ability to move these strangers to reverence. "Gentlemen an omen," said the grizzled veteran, pointing to the picture. "History repeats itself." "Mademoiselle," Carter said gently under cover of the general buzz of excited comment aroused by the picture, "mademoiselle, M. Delmotte is destined to a high place among the great men of the world.
While to some is given the power to portray famous events, to a very few indeed it is given to create such epochs. Such men are necessarily set apart from their fellows. Despite the promptings of their hearts, they must forego many friendships which would otherwise be dear to them. M. Delmotte is both fortunate and unfortunate in this."
At about the same time the Krovitzers were leaving the house on the Boulevard S. Michel, one of those little comedies from real life was being enacted in the attic studio of Eugene Delmotte. Its finale was to be influenced considerably by their actions. The artist was to be transported by them from Hadean depths of despair to Olympian heights of rejoicing.
Drawing his sword, he securely fastened the thong on the hilt about his wrist that no matter how fierce the mêlée, he would not be disarmed. Delmotte imitated his example. Giving the blade a preparatory swing, the doughty Treasurer settled back in his saddle with a sigh of anticipation. Zulka and Sobieska rode back to Trusia. "Just for 'Auf wiedersehn," they said smilingly.
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