The King\'s Jackal
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Richard Harding Davis >> The King\'s Jackal
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THE KING'S
JACKAL
BY
RICHARD HARDING DAVIS
The King's Jackal
I
The private terrace of the Hotel Grand Bretagne, at Tangier,
was shaded by a great awning of red and green and yellow, and
strewn with colored mats, and plants in pots, and wicker
chairs. It reached out from the Kings apartments into the
Garden of Palms, and was hidden by them on two sides, and
showed from the third the blue waters of the Mediterranean and
the great shadow of Gibraltar in the distance.
The Sultan of Morocco had given orders from Fez that the King
of Messina, in spite of his incognito, should be treated
during his stay in Tangier with the consideration due to his
rank, so one-half of the Hotel Grand Bretagne had been set
aside for him and his suite, and two soldiers of the Bashaw's
Guard sat outside of his door with drawn swords. They were
answerable with their heads for the life and safety of the
Sultan's guest, and as they could speak no language but their
own, they made a visit to his Majesty more a matter of
adventure than of etiquette.
Niccolas, the King's majordomo, stepped out upon the terrace
and swept the Mediterranean with a field-glass for the third
time since sunrise. He lowered it, and turned doubtfully
toward the two soldiers.
"The boat from Gibraltar--has she arrived yet?" he asked.
The two ebony figures shook their heads stiffly, as though
they resented this introduction of a foreign language, and
continued to shake their heads as the servant addressed the
same question to them in a succession of strange tongues.
"Well," said Colonel Erhaupt, briskly, as he followed Niccolas
out upon the terrace, "has the boat arrived? And the launch
from the yacht," he continued, "has it started for shore yet?"
The man pointed to where the yacht lay, a mile outside the
harbor, and handed him the glass.
"It is but just now leaving the ship's side," he said. "But I
cannot make out who comes in her. Ah, pardon," he added
quickly, as he pointed to a stout elderly gentleman who walked
rapidly toward them through the garden. "The Gibraltar boat
must be in, sir. Here is Baron Barrat coming up the path."
Colonel Erhaupt gave an exclamation of satisfaction, and waved
his hand to the newcomer in welcome.
"Go tell his Majesty," he said to the servant.
The man hesitated and bowed. "His Majesty still sleeps."
"Wake him," commanded Erhaupt. "Tell him I said to do so.
Well, Baron," he cried, gayly, as he stepped forward,
"welcome--or are you welcome?" he added, with an uneasy laugh.
"I should be. I have succeeded," the other replied gruffly,
as he brushed past him. "Where is the King?"
"He will be here in a moment. I have sent to wake him. And
you have been successful? Good. I congratulate you. How far
successful?"
The Baron threw himself into one of the wicker chairs, and
clapped his hands impatiently for a servant. "Twelve thousand
pounds in all," he replied. "That's more than he expected.
It was like pulling teeth at first. I want some coffee at
once," he said to the attendant, "and a bath. That boat
reeked with Moors and cattle, and there was no wagon-lit on
the train from Madrid. I sat up all night, and played cards
with that young Cellini. Have Madame Zara and Kalonay
returned? I see the yacht in the harbor. Did she succeed?"
"We do not know; the boat only arrived at daybreak. They are
probably on the launch that is coming in now."
As Barrat sipped his coffee and munched his rolls with the
silent energy of a hungry man, the Colonel turned and strode
up and down the terrace, pulling at his mustache and glancing
sideways. When the Baron had lighted a cigarette and thrown
himself back in his chair, Erhaupt halted and surveyed him in
some anxiety.
"You have been gone over two weeks," he said. "I should like
to see you accomplish as much in as short a time," growled the
other. "You know Paris. You know how hard it is to get
people to be serious there. I had the devil's own time at
first. You got my cablegram?"
"Yes; it wasn't encouraging."
"Well, I wasn't hopeful myself. They wouldn't believe a word
of it at first. They said Louis hadn't shown such great love
for his country or his people since his exile that they could
feel any confidence in him, and that his conduct in the last
six years did not warrant their joining any undertaking in
which he was concerned. You can't blame them. They've backed
him so many times already, and they've been bitten, and
they're shy, naturally. But I swore he was repentant, that he
saw the error of his ways, that he wanted to sit once more
before he died on the throne of his ancestors, and that he
felt it was due to his son that he should make an effort to
get him back his birthright. It was the son won them.
`Exhibit A' I call him. None of them would hear of it until I
spoke of the Prince. So when I saw that, I told them he was a
fine little chap, healthy and manly and brave, and devoted to
his priest, and all that rot, and they began to listen. At
first they wanted his Majesty to abdicate, and give the boy a
clear road to the crown, but of course I hushed that up. I
told them we were acting advisedly, that we had reason to know
that the common people of Messina were sick of the Republic,
and wanted their King; that Louis loved the common people like
a father; that he would re-establish the Church in all her
power, and that Father Paul was working day and night for us,
and that the Vatican was behind us. Then I dealt out
decorations and a few titles, which Louis has made smell so
confoundedly rank to Heaven that nobody would take them. It
was like a game. I played one noble gentleman against
another, and gave this one a portrait of the King one day, and
the other a miniature of `Exhibit A' the next and they grew
jealous, and met together, and talked it over, and finally
unlocked their pockets. They contributed about L9,000
between them. Then the enthusiasm spread to the women, and
they gave me their jewels, and a lot of youngsters volunteered
for the expedition, and six of them came on with me in the
train last night. I won two thousand francs from that boy
Cellini on the way down. They're all staying at the
Continental. I promised them an audience this morning."
"Good," commented the Colonel, "good--L9,000. I suppose you
took out your commission in advance?"
"I took out nothing," returned the other, angrily. "I brought
it all with me, and I have a letter from each of them stating
just what he or she subscribed toward the expedition,--the
Duke Dantiz, so much; the Duke D'Orvay, 50,000 francs; the
Countess Mattini, a diamond necklace. It is all quite
regular. I played fair." The Colonel had stopped in his
walk, and had been peering eagerly down the leafy path through
the garden. "Is that not Zara coming now?" he asked. "Look,
your eyes are better than mine."
Barrat rose quickly, and the two men walked forward, and
bowed with the easy courtesy of old comrades to a tall, fair
girl who came hurriedly up the steps. The Countess Zara was a
young woman, but one who had stood so long on guard against
the world, that the strain had told, and her eyes were hard
and untrustful, so that she looked much older than she really
was. Her life was of two parts. There was little to be told
of the first part; she was an English girl who had come from a
manufacturing town to study art and live alone in Paris, where
she had been too indolent to work, and too brilliant to remain
long without companions eager for her society. Through them
and the stories of her wit and her beauty, she had come to
know the King of Messina, and with that meeting the second
part of her life began; for she had found something so
attractive, either in his title or in the cynical humor of the
man himself, that for the last two years she had followed his
fortunes, and Miss Muriel Winter, art student, had become the
Countess Zara, and an uncrowned queen. She was beautiful,
with great masses of yellow hair and wonderful brown eyes.
Her manner when she spoke seemed to show that she despised the
world and those in it almost as thoroughly as she despised
herself.
On the morning of her return from Messina, she wore a blue
serge yachting suit with a golf cloak hanging from her
shoulders, and as she crossed the terrace she pulled nervously
at her gloves and held out her hand covered with jewels to
each of the two men.
"I bring good news," she said, with an excited laugh. "Where
is Louis?"
"I will tell his Majesty that you have come. You are most
welcome," the Baron answered.
But as he turned to the door it opened from the inside and the
king came toward them, shivering and blinking his eyes in the
bright sunlight. It showed the wrinkles and creases around
his mouth and the blue veins under the mottled skin, and the
tiny lines at the corners of his little bloodshot eyes that
marked the pace at which he had lived as truthfully as the
rings on a tree-trunk tell of its quiet growth.
He caught up his long dressing-gown across his chest as though
it were a mantle, and with a quick glance to see that there
were no other witnesses to his deshabille, bent and kissed the
woman's hand, and taking it in his own stroked it gently.
"My dear Marie," he lisped, "it is like heaven to have you
back with us again. We have felt your absence every hour.
Pray be seated, and pardon my robe. I saw you through the
blinds and could not wait. Tell us the glorious news. The
Baron's good words I have already overheard; I listened to
them with great entertainment while I was dressing. I hoped
he would say something discourteous or foolish, but he was
quite discreet until he told Erhaupt that he had kept back
none of the money. Then I lost interest. Fiction is never so
entertaining to me as the truth and real people. But tell us
now of your mission and of all you did; and whether successful
or not, be assured you are most welcome."
The Countess Zara smiled at him doubtfully and crossed her
hands in her lap, glancing anxiously over her shoulder.
"I must be very brief, for Kalonay and Father Paul are close
behind me," she said. "They only stopped for a moment at the
custom-house. Keep watch, Baron, and tell me when you see
them coming."
Barrat moved his chair so that it faced the garden-path, the
King crossed his legs comfortably and wrapped his padded
dressing-robe closer around his slight figure, and Erhaupt
stood leaning on the back of his chair with his eyes fixed on
the fine insolent beauty of the woman before them.
She nodded her head toward the soldiers who sat at the
entrance to the terrace, as silent and immovable as blind
beggars before a mosque. "Do they understand?" she asked.
"No," the King assured her. "They understand nothing, but
that they are to keep people away from me--and they do it very
well. I wish I could import them to Paris to help Niccolas
fight off creditors. Continue, we are most impatient."
"We left here last Sunday night, as you know," she said. "We
passed Algiers the next morning and arrived off the island at
mid-day, anchoring outside in the harbor. We flew the Royal
Yacht Squadron's pennant, and an owner's private signal that
we invented on the way down. They sent me ashore in a boat,
and Kalonay and Father Paul continued on along the southern
shore, where they have been making speeches in all the
coast-towns and exciting the people in favor of the
revolution. I heard of them often while I was at the capital,
but not from them. The President sent a company of carbineers
to arrest them the very night they returned and smuggled me on
board the yacht again. We put off as soon as I came over the
side and sailed directly here.
"As soon as I landed on Tuesday I went to the Hotel de
Messina, and sent my card to the President. He is that man
Palaccio, the hotel-keeper's son, the man you sent out of the
country for writing pamphlets against the monarchy, and who
lived in Sicily during his exile. He gave me an audience at
once, and I told my story. As he knew who I was, I explained
that I had quarrelled with you, and that I was now prepared to
sell him the secrets of an expedition which you were fitting
out with the object of re-establishing yourself on the throne.
He wouldn't believe that there was any such expedition, and
said it was blackmail, and threatened to give me to the police
if I did not leave the island in twenty-four hours--he was
exceedingly rude. So I showed him receipts for ammunition and
rifles and Maxim guns, and copies of the oath of allegiance to
the expedition, and papers of the yacht, in which she was
described as an armored cruiser, and he rapidly grew polite,
even humble, and I made him apologize first, and then take me
out to luncheon. That was the first day. The second day
telegrams began to come in from the coast-towns, saying that
the Prince Kalonay and Father Paul were preaching and exciting
the people to rebellion, and travelling from town to town in a
man-of-war. Then he was frightened. The Prince with his
popularity in the south was alarming enough, but the Prince
and Father Superior to help him seemed to mean the end of the
Republic.
"I learned while I was down there that the people think the
father put some sort of a ban on every one who had anything to
do with driving the Dominican monks out of the island and with
the destruction of the monasteries. I don't know whether he
did or not, but they believe he did, which is the same thing,
and that superstitious little beast, the President, certainly
believed it; he attributed everything that had gone wrong on
the island to that cause. Why, if a second cousin of the wife
of a brother of one of the men who helped to fire a church
falls off his horse and breaks his leg they say that he is
under the curse of the Father Superior, and there are many who
believe the Republic will never succeed until Paul returns and
the Church is re-established. The Government seems to have
kept itself well informed about your Majesty's movements, and
it has never felt any anxiety that you would attempt to
return, and it did not fear the Church party because it knew
that without you the priests could do nothing. But when Paul,
whom the common people look upon as a living saint and martyr,
returned hand in hand with your man Friday, they were in a
panic and felt sure the end had come. So the President called
a hasty meeting of his Cabinet. And such a Cabinet! I wish
you could have seen them, Louis, with me in the centre playing
on them like an advocate before a jury. They were the most
dreadful men I ever met, bourgeois and stupid and ugly to a
degree. Two of them were commission-merchants, and one of
them is old Dr. Gustavanni, who kept the chemist's shop in the
Piazza Royale. They were quite silly with fear, and they
begged me to tell them how they could avert the fall of the
Republic and prevent your landing. And I said that it was
entirely a question of money; that if we were paid
sufficiently the expedition would not land and we would leave
them in peace, but that----"
The King shifted his legs uneasily, and coughed behind his
thin, pink fingers.
"That was rather indiscreet, was it not, Marie?" he murmured.
"The idea was to make them think that I, at least, was
sincere; was not that it? To make it appear that though there
were traitors in his camp, the King was in most desperate
earnest? If they believe that, you see, it will allow me to
raise another expedition as soon as the money we get for this
one is gone; but if you have let them know that I am the one
who is selling out, you have killed the goose that lays the
golden eggs. They will never believe us when we cry wolf
again----"
"You must let me finish," Zara interrupted. "I did not
involve you in the least. I said that there were traitors in
the camp of whom I was the envoy, and that if they would pay
us 300,000 francs we would promise to allow the expedition
only to leave the yacht. Their troops could then make a show
of attacking our landing-party and we would raise the cry of
`treachery' and retreat to the boats. By this we would
accomplish two things,--we would satisfy those who, had
contributed funds toward the expedition that we had at least
made an honest effort, and your Majesty would be discouraged
by such treachery from ever attempting another attack. The
money was to be paid two weeks later in Paris, to me or to
whoever brings this ring that I wear. The plan we finally
agreed upon is this: The yacht is to anchor off Basnai next
Thursday night. At high tide, which is just about daybreak,
we are to lower our boats and land our men on that long beach
to the south of the break-water. The troops of the Republic
are to lie hidden in the rocks until our men have formed.
Then they are to fire over their heads, and we are to retreat
in great confusion, return to the yacht, and sail away. Two
weeks later they are to pay the money into my hands, or," she
added, with a smile, as she held up her fourth finger, "to
whoever brings this ring. And I need not say that the ring
will not leave my finger."
There was a moment's pause, as though the men were waiting to
learn if she had more to tell, and then the King threw back
his head and laughed softly. He saw Erhaupt's face above his
shoulder, filled with the amazement and indignation of a man
who as a duellist and as a soldier had shown a certain brute
courage, and the King laughed again.
"What do you think of that, Colonel?" he cried, gayly. "They
are a noble race, my late subjects."
"Bah!" exclaimed the German. "I didn't know we were dealing
with a home for old women."
The Baron laughed comfortably. "It is like taking money from
a blind beggar's hat," he said.
"Why, with two hundred men that I could pick up in London,"
Erhaupt declared, contemptuously, "I would guarantee to put
you on the throne in a fortnight."
"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed his Majesty. "So they surrendered
as quickly as that, did they?" he asked, nodding toward Madame
Zara to continue.
The Countess glanced again over her shoulder and bit her lips
in some chagrin. Her eyes showed her disappointment. "It may
seem an easy victory to you," she said, consciously, "but I
doubt, knowing all the circumstances, if any of your Majesty's
gentlemen could have served you as well. It needed a woman
and----"
"It needed a beautiful woman," interrupted the King, quickly,
in a tone that he would have used to a spoiled child. "It
needed a woman of tact, a woman of courage, a woman among
women--the Countess Zara. Do not imagine, Marie, that we
undervalue your part. It is their lack of courage that
distresses Colonel Erhaupt."
"One of them, it is true, did wish to fight," the Countess
continued, with a smile; "a Frenchman named Renauld, whom they
have put in charge of the army. He scoffed at the whole
expedition, but they told him that a foreigner could not
understand as they did the danger of the popularity of the
Prince Kolonay, who, by a speech or two among the shepherds
and fishermen, could raise an army."
The King snapped his fingers impatiently.
"An army of brigands and smugglers!" he exclaimed. "That for
his popularity!" But he instantly raised his hands as though
in protest at his own warmth of speech and in apology for his
outbreak.
"His zeal will ruin us in time. He is deucedly in the way,"
he continued, in his usual tone of easy cynicism. "We should
have let him into our plans from the first, and then if he
chose to take no part in them we would at least have had a
free hand. As it is now, we have three different people to
deceive: this Cabinet of shopkeepers, which seems easy enough;
Father Paul and his fanatics of the Church party; and this
apostle of the divine right of kings, Kalonay. And he and the
good father are not fools----"
At these words Madame Zara glanced again toward the garden,
and this time with such evident uneasiness in her face that
Barrat eyed her with quick suspicion.
"What is it?" he asked, sharply. "There is something you have
not told us."
The woman looked at the King, and he nodded his head as though
in assent. "I had to tell them who else was in the plot
besides myself," she said, speaking rapidly. "I had to give
them the name of some man who they knew would be able to do
what I have promised we could do--who could put a stop to the
revolution. The name I gave was his--Kalonay's."
Barrat threw himself forward in his chair.
"Kalonay's?" he cried, incredulously.
"Kalonay's?" echoed Erhaupt. "What madness, Madame! Why name
the only one who is sincere?"
"She will explain," said the King, in an uneasy voice; "let
her explain. She has acted according to my orders and for the
best, but I confess I----"
"Some one had to be sacrificed," returned the woman, boldly,
"and why not he? Indeed, if we wish to save ourselves, there
is every reason that it should be he. You know how mad he is
for the King's return, how he himself wishes to get back to
the island and to his old position there. Why, God only
knows, but it is so. What pleasure he finds in a land of
mists and fogs, in a ruined castle with poachers and smuggling
fishermen for companions, I cannot comprehend. But the fact
remains, he always speaks of it as home and he wishes to
return. And now, suppose he learns the truth, as he may at
any moment, and discovers that the whole expedition for which
he is staking his soul and life is a trick, a farce; that we
use it only as a bait to draw money from the old nobility, and
to frighten the Republic into paying us to leave them in
peace? How do we know what he might not do? He may tell the
whole of Europe. He may turn on you and expose you, and then
what have we left? It is your last chance. It is our last
chance. We have tried everything else, and we cannot show
ourselves in Europe, at least not without money in our hands.
But by naming Kalonay I have managed it so that we have only
to show the written agreement I have made with the Republic
and he is silenced. In it they have promised to pay the
Prince Kalonay, naming him in full, 300,000 francs if the
expedition is withdrawn. That agreement is in my hands, and
that is our answer to whatever he may think or say. Our word
is as good as his, or as bad; we are all of the same party as
far as Europe cares, and it becomes a falling out among
thieves, and we are equal."
Baron Barrat leaned forward and marked each word with a
movement of his hand.
"Do I understand you to say," he asked, "that you have a paper
signed by the Republic agreeing to pay 300,000 francs to
Kalonay? Then how are we to get it?" he demanded,
incredulously. "From him?"
"It is made payable to him," continued the woman, "or to
whoever brings this ring I wear to the banking-house of the
Schlevingens two weeks after the expedition has left the
island. I explained that clause to them by saying that
Kalonay and I were working together against the King, and as
he might be suspicious if we were both to leave him so soon
after the failure of the expedition we would be satisfied if
they gave the money to whichever one first presented the ring.
Suppose I had said," she went on, turning to the King, "that
it was either Barrat or the Colonel here who had turned
traitor. They know the Baron of old, when he was Chamberlain
and ran your roulette wheel at the palace. They know he is
not the man to turn back an expedition. And the Colonel, if
he will pardon me, has sold his services so often to one side
or another that it would have been difficult to make them
believe that this time he is sincere. But Kalonay, the man
they fear most next to your Majesty--to have him turn traitor,
why, that was a master stroke. Even those boors, stupid as
they are, saw that. When they made out the agreement they put
down all his titles, and laughed as they wrote them in.
`Prince Judas' they called him, and they were in ecstasies at
the idea of the aristocrat suing for blood-money against his
sovereign, of the man they feared showing himself to be only a
common blackmailer. It delighted them to find a prince royal
sunk lower than themselves, this man who has treated them like
curs--like the curs they are," she broke out suddenly--"like
the curs they are!"
She rose and laughed uneasily as though at her own vehemence.
"I am tired," she said, avoiding the King's eyes; "the trip
has tired me. If you will excuse me, I will go to my
rooms--through your hall-way, if I may."
"Most certainly," said the King. "I trust you will be rested
by dinner-time. Au revoir, my fair ambassadrice."
The woman nodded and smiled back at him brightly, and Louis
continued to look after her as she disappeared down the
corridor. He rubbed the back of his fingers across his lips,
and thoughtfully examined his finger-nails.
"I wonder," he said, after a pause, looking up at Barrat. The
Baron raised his eyebrows with a glance of polite
interrogation.
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