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Updated: May 1, 2025
"At certain hours, I believe he can be found at that cabaret selling this stuff, whatever it is, to anyone who comes properly introduced. The thing seems to be so open and notorious that it amounts to a scandal." We parted a moment later, Mrs. Sutphen and Miss McCann to go to the settlement house, Craig and I to continue our investigations.
The Holder of the Purse leaned back. With a satisfied air, Sutphen turned to him. "That the club to which your nephew, Count Paul, belonged?" he asked. "Yes," he said genially. "I am Paul Zulka's uncle," he explained to Carter. "Did he ever mention a Calvert Carter as among his associates there?" queried a lenient Trusia. The Holder of the Purse spread out two fat palms deprecatingly.
"Josef Petros Zolsky, Your Majesty. I am your childhood's retainer and hereditary servitor. Yes, I am he you call Petros," and the white head bowed low as a gratified light kindled in the crafty eyes. "Majesty! What the devil am I crazy? I am not drunk," he added regretfully. "Sire," stammered Colonel Sutphen, "sire, you are the King of Krovitch." "The devil I am," came the prompt response.
He had already received this information, but speech seemed a refuge from his trepidation. If Sutphen had noticed how his king's voice quavered he was too loyal a subject to comment. With the patience of iteration he answered his sovereign.
On the left the remaining squad merely awaited the passing of the Duchess to go to their comrades' assistance. With such speed as the underbrush and rough ground would permit, the court party, headed by the white-haired Sutphen, plunged onward to the lane which led to the charcoal burner's hut. They were soon beyond even the sounds of the conflict.
The Colonel flushed at his own audacity. The girl smiled forgivingly, though a little wanly. "Oh, no, monsieur. I am only his friend and occasional model. He is in trouble, messieurs. I came to cheer him up. I live across the hall." Colonel Sutphen, scanning the far end of the room, failed to find the object of his inquiry.
"The noblest woman under heaven, sire," said Sutphen reverently. "One who well could have claimed the crown herself. She wished a man to lead her people in the bitter strife and waived her claims for you. It is therefore but meet that she who has wrought all this for you should share your throne." "Why was I chosen?"
An attempt has been made to poison Mrs. Sutphen. They said at the other end of the line that you'd know." We faced each other aghast. "My God!" exclaimed Kennedy. "Has that been the effect of our story, Walter? Instead of smoking out anyone we've almost killed some one." As fast as a cab could whisk us around to Mrs. Sutphen's we hurried.
Petersburg may be apprehensive, but they know nothing of the real truth nor the imminence of our uprising. Here is Colonel Sutphen, doubtless wishing to talk more fully of our plans to you," she concluded as the grizzled veteran stood courteously awaiting their leisure to speak with the King. Feeling free to do so now, she turned to her American aide.
Diana sat down and looked out into it all, and tried to hold communion with herself. She was sorry to leave this place. Yes, why not? She was sorry to exchange her present life for the old one. Quiet and solitary it had been, this life at Clifton, for Mrs. Sutphen scarcely made her feel less alone with her than without her; and she had held herself back from society.
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