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Updated: June 23, 2025
There was peace, summer, perfume, in the moonlit air and Karyl smiled ironically as he reflected that even the bodyguard so carefully selected by Von Ritz might at any moment enter the place and raise the shout of "Long live King Louis!"
Will you take us with you on the yacht, and cruise in unfrequented ports, until Von Ritz reports to me?" "Where is Von Ritz?" "Gone back to Alexandria. He still cherishes hopes of a restoration. He wishes to return to Galavia." "Can he return safely?" Karyl shrugged his shoulders. "His conduct can hardly be construed as a political offense.
When Karyl heard the hand-clapping of the decoy shopman, and saw the responding ruffians in the opposite doors, he swiftly thrust the girl into the spot of blacker shadow at his back, and seized the wrist of Mohammed Abbas with a force and suddenness that wrung from him a piteous wail. Keeping the Turk before him, he backed toward the shadowed recess, with the one idea of shielding Cara.
Not hypocritical tears for an unloved husband, but sincere tears for a generous friend. "Delgado escaped," he explained simply. "Karyl was captured." Again he spoke in few words. It seemed that he could not manage long sentences. "Then he tried to escape," he added. She pressed her fingers to her temples, and leaned forward, speaking rapidly in a half-whisper that sometimes broke.
The officer stood waiting, respectful, impersonal, until the flood of words should subside, but for a while Karyl swept agitatedly on. "You wear a sword, Von Ritz, which any monarch in Europe would hire at your own price. Any government would let you name what titles and honors you wished in payment " "Your Majesty!" "Forgive me, I know your sword is not for sale. I mean no such intimation.
A few moments later the "English Jackal" stood nonchalantly looking down at the bound figure of the former King lying on the floor, shoulders propped against the wall, head wrapped in a richly embroidered shawl from Persia. Lamps had been kindled. The head wrappings had already been somewhat loosened and Karyl was stirring with the indication of returning consciousness.
He read it and for an instant a look of pain crossed the features that rarely yielded to expression. Then he sought out Karyl's stateroom. Karyl turned wearily from the wintry picture of a sullenly heaving sea, to answer the rap on the door. His face did not brighten as he recognized Von Ritz. The Colonel was that type of being upon whom men may depend or whom they must fear.
He will be under suspicion, but all Europe would resent any injury to Von Ritz." "The Isis is, of course, at your command." In the same rooms where Karyl and his father had often consulted with Von Ritz on affairs of state, Louis Delgado sat in conference with a foreigner, who had no acknowledged position in the councils of any government, yet whose mind and execution had affected many.
She spoke with unutterable weariness. "I seem to bring only sorrow to those who love me." "You can give me all but love," Karyl repeated very softly, leaning forward toward her, "and love is all there is! Without it I take all else you give me as a thief takes, without right. If being a King means being your jailer, then I am done with being a King!"
For answer the officer held out the message. Karyl puckered his brows over the intricacies of the code and handed it back. "Be good enough to construe it," he commanded. "The King," said Von Ritz, "is ill. His Majesty wishes to instruct you in certain matters before " He broke off with something like a catch in his voice, then continued calmly.
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