by Louis Tracy
CHAPTER II
MONSEIGNEUR
The Wanderers beat Chantilly. One minute before the close of the fourthchukkur the score stood at four all. Both teams were playing withdesperation to avoid a decider on tired ponies, when the Wanderers'third man extricated the ball from a tangle of prancing hoofs andclattering sticks, and Alec Delgrado got away with it. He thought hispony was good for one last run at top speed, that and no more. Riskingit, he sprinted across two hundred yards of green turf with theChantilly Number One in hot chase. His opponent was a stone lighter andbetter mounted; so Alec's clear start would not save him from beingoverhauled and ridden off ere he came within a reasonable strikingdistance of the opposing goalposts. That was the Chantilly man's supremeoccupation,--some experts will have it that the ideal Number One shouldnot carry a polo stick,--and the pursuer knew his work.
A hundred, eighty, sixty, yards in front Alec saw a goal keeping centaurwaiting to intercept him. In another couple of strides a lean, eagerhead would be straining alongside his own pony's girths. So he struckhard and clean and raced on, and the goalkeeper judged the flight of thewhite wooden ball correctly, and smote it back again fair and straight.
It traveled so truly that it would have passed Alec three feet from theground to drop almost exactly on the spot whence he had driven it. Butthere was more in that last gallop along the smooth lawn than might berealized by any one present save Alec himself. It was his farewell tothe game. From that day he would cease to be dependent on a begrudgedpittance for the upkeep of his stable, and that meant the end of hispolo playing. But he was not made of the stuff that yields before thetwelfth hour. His mallet whirled in the air, there was a crack like apistol shot, and the ball flew over the amazed goalkeeper's head andbetween the posts.
The yelling and handclapping of the few spectators almost drowned theumpire's whistle.
"By gad, that was a corker!" said he of Chantilly, as the ponies' wildgallop eased to a canter.
"I hope that flourish of mine did not come too close, Beaumanoir," saidAlec.
"Don't give a tuppenny now," laughed Lord Adalbert Beaumanoir. "Thematch is over, and you've won it, and if you play till Doomsday you'llnever score a better notch."
"It was lucky, a sheer fluke."
"Oh, that be jiggered for a yarn! A fellow flukes with his eyes shut.You meant it!"
"Yes, that is right. So would you, Berty, if it was your last knock."
"Well, time's up, anyhow," said Beaumanoir, not comprehending.
They trotted off to the group of waiting grooms. Delgrado ran thegauntlet of congratulations, for Paris likes to see Chantilly's flaglowered, and escaped to the dressing room. He gave a letter, alreadywritten and sealed, to an attendant, and drove away in his dogcart.Bowling quickly along the broad Allee de Longchamps, he turned into theRoute de l'Etoile, and so to the fine avenue where all Paris takes thesummer air.
He found himself eying the parade of fashion in a curiously detachedmood. Yesterday he thought himself part and parcel of that gay throng.To-day he was a different being. All that had gone before was merged in"yesterday's seven thousand years."
His cob's pace did not slacken until he drew rein at the giant doorwayof a block of flats in the Rue Boissiere. It was then about fiveo'clock, and he meant to appear at his mother's tea table. He was farfrom looking the "limp rag" of his phrase to Joan. Indeed, it might havetaxed the resources of any crack regiment in Paris that day to producehis equal in condition. Twenty-four years old, nearly six feet inheight, lean and wiry, square wristed, broad shouldered, and straight asa spear, he met the physical requirements, at least, of those classicyouths beloved of Joan's favorite goddess.
Usually his clean cut face, typically American in its high cheekbones,firm chin, mobile mouth, and thoughtful eyes, wore a happy-go-luckyexpression that was the despair of matchmaking mamas; but to-day Alecwas serious. He was thinking of the promise that to the souls of firewould be given more fire, to the manful a might more than man's.
If he had not been so preoccupied, he would certainly have heard theraucous shouts of newsboys running frantically along the boulevards.That is to say, he heard, but did not heed, else some shadow of astrange destiny must have dimmed his bright dreams.
Their nature might be guessed from his words to Joan. The question headdressed to the concierge proved that his intent was fixed.
"Is Monseigneur at home?" he asked.
"_Oui, m'sieur._ His Excellency has mounted a little half-hour ago,"said the man.
Alec nodded. "Now for it!" he said to himself.
His father, a born fop, a boulevardier by adoption, cultivated habitsthat seemed to follow the mechanical laws of those clockwork manikinsthat ingenious horologists contrive for the amusement of children, bigand little. Whether eating, sleeping, driving, strolling, chatting orcard playing, the whereabouts and occupation of Prince Michael Delgradocould be correctly diagnosed at any given hour of the day and night.Fortune delights at times in tormenting such men with greatopportunities. Prince Michael, standing now with his back to thefireplace in his wife's boudoir, was fated to be an early recipient ofthat boon for which so many sigh in vain.
Of course he knew nothing of that. His round, plump, rosy face, at firstsight absurdly disproportionate to his dapper and effeminate body, worea frown of annoyance. In fact, he had been obliged to think, and theeffort invariably distressed him. Apparently he had a big head, and bigheaded men of diminutive frame usually possess brains and enjoy usingthem. But closer inspection revealed that his Highness' skull resembledan egg, with the narrow end uppermost.
Thus, according to Lavater, he was richly endowed with all the baserqualities that pander to self, and markedly deficient in the higherattributes of humanity. The traits of the gourmand, the cynic, theegoist, were there; but the physiognomist would look in vain for anysign of genius or true nobility. Recognition of his undoubted rank had,of course, given him the grand manner. That was unavoidable, and it washis chief asset. He liked to be addressed as "Monseigneur"; he had acertain reputation for wit; he carried himself with the ease that markshis caste; and he had shown excellent taste in choosing a wife.
The Princess did indeed look the great lady. Her undoubted beauty, aidedby a touch of Western piquancy, had captivated the Paris salons of anearlier generation, and those same salons repaid their debt byconferring the repose, the dignity, the subtle aura of distinction, thatconstitute the aristocrat in outward bearing. For this reason, PrincessDelgrado was received in poverty stricken apartments where her husbandwould be looked at askance, since the frayed Boulevard Saint Germainstill shelters the most exclusive circle in France.
Here, then, was an amazing instance of a one-sided heredity. AlexisDelgrado evidently owed both mind and body to his mother. Looking at thePrincess, one saw that such a son of such a father did not becomesheerly impossible.
To-day, unhappily, neither Prince Michael nor his wife was in tune for afamily conclave. Monseigneur was ruffled, distinctly so, and Madame wason the verge of tears.
When Alec entered the room he was aware of a sudden silence, accentuatedby a half-repressed sob from his mother. Instantly he took the blame onhis own shoulders. He expected difficulties; but he was not prepared fora scene.
"Why, mother dear," he said, bending over her with a tenderness thatcontrasted strongly with Prince Michael's affected indifference, "whatis the matter? Surely you and dad have not been worrying about me! Youcan't keep me in the nest always, you know. And I only want to earn thewherewithal to live. That is not so very terrible, is it?"
The distressed woman looked up at him with a wan smile. She seemed tohave aged since the morning. There was a pathetic weakness in her mouthand chin that was noticeably absent from her son's strong lineaments,and it occurred to Alec with a pang that he had never before seen hismother so deeply moved.
"I suppose one must endure the world's changes," she murmured. "It wasfoolish on my part to imagine that things could continue forever on thesame lines; but I sha
ll not grieve, Alec, if no cloud comes between youand me. It would break my heart----"
"Oh, come now!" he cried, simulating a lively good humor he was far fromfeeling. "What has dad been saying? Clouds! Where are they? Not aroundmy head, at any rate. I have dispelled the only one that existed, thesilly halo of class that stops a fellow from working because he happensto be born a Prince. It was different for dad, of course. My respectedgrandfather, Ferdinand VII., was really a King, and dad was a grown manwhen the pair of them were slung out of Kosnovia. Sorry, sir; but thatis the way they talk history nowadays. It has ceased to be decorous. Iam afraid Paris is largely responsible. You see, we have an Emperor inthe next block, two Kings in the Avenue Victor Hugo, and a fugitiveex-President in the Hotel Metropole. I have seen the whole lot, even ournoble selves, burlesqued in a Montmartre review. And I laughed! That isthe worst part of it. I roared! We looked such a funny crew. And we wereall jolly hard up, borrowing five-franc pieces from one another, andoffering to sell scepters at a ridiculous sacrifice. That came rathernear home. We haven't got what the storybooks calls an embarrassment ofriches, have we? So, a cup of tea, please, mother, and I'll hear theCzar's edict. It is pending. I can see it in his eye."
Usually Prince Michael responded to that sort of airy nonsense. Whensure of his audience, he had spoken much more disrespectfully of theParisian band of Kings in exile. But to-day his chubby cheeks refused tocrease in a grin. He remained morose, oracular, heavy jowled. In fact,he had set himself a very difficult task. Now that the moment hadarrived for its fulfilment, he shirked it.
"May I ask, Alec, if you have any scheme in view?" he said, strutting onthe hearthrug in front of a grate filled with ferns. He always stoodthere,--in winter because it was warm, and he was a martyr tochilblains; in summer because of the habit contracted in winter.
"Well, sir, candidly speaking, I have not. But I saw in a newspaper theother day a paragraph of advice to a young man. 'No matter how smallyour income may be, live within it: that is the beginning of wealth,' itsaid. How profound! I applied it to myself. My income is nil. There Iencountered a serious obstacle at the very start of the Great MoneyStakes. But----"
"This is a grave discussion, Alec. I have that to say which may painyou. Pray be serious."
"Oh, I am--quite serious. My ponies and the dogcart are in Dumont'scatalogue for the next sale. I resigned my membership of the polo clubto-day. To-morrow, or eke to-night, I look for a job. As you, mother o'mine, have heard men say in your beloved west, I'm going to butt in."
"I--er--suppose you--er--look to me for some assistance?" coughed PrinceMichael.
His wife rose. Her face was gray-white, her eyes blazed. "Alec knows weare poor. Why torture him--and me? I refuse to allow it. I refuse!" Hervoice took a tragic note, thin and shrill; there was a pitiful quiveringof her lips that wrung her son's heart, and he was utterly at a loss tounderstand why a discussion as to his future should lead to this displayof passion.
"But, mother darling," he cried, "why are you grieving so? You and dadmust maintain a certain state,--one begins by assuming that,--and it isno secret that the Delgrado side of the family was not blessed withwealth. Very well. Let me try to adjust the balance--the bank balance,eh? Really, why weep?"
Alec's gallant attempt to avert the storm failed again. His SereneHighness muttered words in a foreign tongue that sounded anything butserene. The Princess did not understand; but her son did. His browswrinkled, and the good humored gleam died out of his eyes.
"Perhaps, sir," he said stiffly, "this subject had better be discussedwhen my mother is not present."
Prince Michael looked at him fixedly. For some reason the little man wasvery angry, and he seemed to resent the implied slur on his good taste.
"I am determined to end this farce once and for all," he vowed. "Beforeyou joined us, I told the Princess----"
The door was flung open. The young man who had followed Joan and Alecinto the Louvre that morning rushed in. His pink and white face wascrimson now, and his manner that of unmeasured, almost uncontrollableexcitement. He gazed at them with a wildness that bordered on frenzy,yet it was clear that their own marked agitation was only what heexpected to find.
"Ah, you have heard?" he snapped, biting at each syllable.
"Heard what, Julius?" demanded Monseigneur, with an instant lowering ofthe princely mask, since Julius dabbled in stocks and was reputed wellto do.
"The news! The news from Kosnovia!"
Prince Michael affected to yawn. "Oh, is that all?" he asked.
"All! _Grand Dieu_, what more would you have? It means--everything."
"My good Julius, it is long since I was so disturbed. What, then, hashappened? The Danube in flood is no new thing."
"The Danube!" and the newcomer's voice cracked. "So you do notknow--sire?"
The little word seemed to have the explosive force of nitroglycerine.Its detonation rang through the room and left them all silent, as thoughtheir ears were stunned and their tongues paralyzed. Alec was the firstto see that some event far out of the common had reduced his cousin,Count Julius Marulitch, almost to a state of hysteria.
"We are at cross purposes," he said quietly. "My father, like the restof us, read this morning's telegram about the overflowing of theriver----"
Count Marulitch waved his hands frantically. He was literally besidehimself. His full red lips, not at all unlike those of the youth inJoan's picture, moved several times before sounds came.
"It is at least my good fortune to be the first to congratulate myKing!" he cried at last. "Be calm, I pray you; but a tremendous changehas been affected at Delgratz. Last night, while Theodore and the Queenwere at dinner, the Seventh Regiment mutinied. It was on guard at theSchwarzburg. Officers and men acted together. There was no resistance.It was impossible. Theodore and Helena were killed!" This man, whoappealed for calmness, was himself in a white heat of emotion.
A stifled scream, a sob, almost a groan, broke from the Princess, andshe clung to her son as though she sought protection from thatbloodthirsty Seventh Regiment. Prince Michael, fumbling with aneyeglass, dropped it in sheer nervousness. Alec, throwing an arm roundhis mother, recalled the hoarse yelling of the newsboys on theboulevards. Was it this latest doom of a monarchy that they were bawlingso lustily? He glanced at his father, and the dapper little man found itincumbent on him to say something.
"But, Julius--is this true? There are so many canards. You know ourproverb: 'A stone that falls in the Balkans causes an earthquake in St.Petersburg.'"
"Oh, it is true, sire. And the telegrams declare that already you havebeen proclaimed King."
"I!"
Prince Michael's exclamation was most unkingly. Rather was it the wailof a criminal on being told that the executioner waited without. Hisruddy cheeks blanched, and his hands were outstretched as if in apiteous plea for mercy. There was a tumult of objurgations in the outerpassage; but this King in spite of himself paid no heed.
"I?" he gasped again, with relaxed jaws.
"You, sire," cried Marulitch. "Our line is restored. There will befighting, of course; but what of that? One audacious week will see youenthroned once more in the Schwarzburg. Ah! Here come Stampoff andBeliani. You are quick on my heels, messieurs; but I promised my cabmana double fare."
A scared manservant, vainly endeavoring to protect his master's privateapartments, was rudely thrust aside, and a fierce looking old warriorentered, followed by a man who was obviously more of a Levantine than aSerb. The older man, small, slight, gray haired, and swarthy, butsurprisingly active in his movements for one of his apparent age, racedup to Prince Michael. He fell on his knees, caught that nerveless righthand, and pressed it to his lips.
"Thank Heaven, sire, that I have been spared to see this day!" heexclaimed.
The Greek, less demonstrative, nevertheless knelt by Stampoff's side. "Itoo am your Majesty's most dutiful and loyal subject," said he.
The Prince did then make a supreme effort to regain his self possession."Thank y
ou, General," he murmured, "and you also, Monsieur Beliani. Ihave only just been told. Theodore and Helena both dead! What a thing!They were my enemies; but I am shocked, I may almost say grieved. Andwhat am I to do? I am practically powerless,--few friends, no money. Onedoes not merely pack a valise and go off by train to win a throne. Yousay I am proclaimed King, Julius. By whom? Have the representatives met?Is there an invitation from the people?"
Stampoff was on his feet instantly. A man of steel springs and volcanicenergy, his alertness waged constant war against his years. "Thepeople!" he shouted. "What of them? What do they know? There is talk ofa Republic. Think of that! Could folly go farther? A Republic in theBalkans, with Russia growling at one door, Austria picking the lock ofanother, and the Turk squatting before a third! No, Monseigneur. Startfrom Paris to-night, cross the Danube, reveal yourself to yoursupporters, and you will soon show these windbags that a man who meansto rule is worth a hundred demagogues who exist only to spout."
His Serene Highness was slowly but surely recovering lost ground. Hegrasped the eyeglass again, and this time gouged it into its accustomedcrease.
"You, Beliani, you are not one to be carried away by emotion," he said."Count Marulitch spoke of a proclamation. Who issued it? Was there anyauthority behind it?"
"God's bones! what better authority is there than your Majesty's?"roared Stampoff.
But the Prince extended a protesting palm. "An excellent sentiment, myfriend; but let us hear Beliani," he said.
The Greek, thus appealed to, seemed to find some slight difficulty inchoosing the right words. "At present, everything is vague,Monseigneur," he said. "It is certain that a battalion of the SeventhRegiment revolted and declared for the Delgrado dynasty. Two otherbattalions of the same regiment in the capital followed their lead. Butthe Chamber met this morning, and there was an expression of opinion infavor of a democratic Government. No vote was taken; but the latestreports speak of some disorder. The approaches to the Schwarzburg areheld by troops. There are barricades in the main streets."
Prince Michael's hands went under his coattails. His face had notregained its claret red color, and its present tint suggested that ithad been carved out of a Camembert cheese; but he was gradually takingthe measure of current events in Kosnovia.
"Barricades seem to argue decided opinions," he said, and there was aperceptible tinge of cynicism in the phrase that jarred on his hearers.
"One must be bold at times," muttered Count Julius.
General Stampoff was chewing an end of his long mustaches in impotentwrath, and Beliani merely shrugged.
"Of course, my father means that prudence must be allied with boldness,"broke in Alec, who had placed his mother in a chair and was now gazingsternly at Marulitch as if he would challenge the unspoken thought.
"Exactly, my boy. Well said! One looks before one leaps, that is it! NowI am not so young, not so young, and I have not forgotten the pleasantways of Kosnovia. Theodore thought all was well; but you see what hashappened after thirty years. Just think of it. A lifetime! Why, I cameto Paris twenty-four years ago, just after you were born, Alexis, andeven then the Obrenovitch line seemed to be well established. And hereyou are, a grown man, and Theodore and his Queen are lying dead in theBlack Palace. It gives one to think. Now, our good Stampoff here wouldhave me rush off and buy a ticket for Delgratz to-night. As if Austriahad not closed every frontier station and was not waiting to pounce onany Delgrado who turned up at this awkward moment on the left bank ofthe Danube!"
Beliani was stroking his nose; Stampoff evidently meant to shorten hismustache by inches; and Julius Marulitch was waxen, and thereby renderedmore than ever like a clothier's model.
Alec was a dutiful son. There were elements in the composition of thesenior Delgrado that he did not admire; but he had never beforesuspected his father of cowardice. His cousin Julius, whom he thoroughlydisliked, was betraying a whole world of meaning in the scorn thatleaped from his eyes, and there was no mistaking the thoughts thatinspired the furious General and the impassive Greek. For the first timein his life, Alec despised Prince Michael. There was a quickening in hisveins, a tingling at the roots of his hair, a tension of his muscles, atthe repulsive notion that a Serene Highness might, after all, be moldedof common clay. And in that spasm of sheer agony he remembered howJoan's sweet voice had thrilled him with the message of Pallas Athene.Was he, indeed, one of those sons of the immortals whom the goddess"drives forth by strange paths ... through doubt and need and dangerand battle?" Surely some such hazardous track was opening up now beforehis feet! His whole nature was stirred in unknown depths. It seemed tohim that there was only one man in the room whose words had the ring oftruth and honest purpose. He strode forward and caught old Paul Stampoffby the shoulder.
"I'll tell you what," he said, unconsciously adopting the free and easystyle of speech that came naturally to him, "you and I must carry thisthing through, General! My father is glued to Paris, you know. He haslost some of his enthusiasm, and one must be enthusiastic to the pointof death itself if he would snatch a Kingdom out of such a fire as israging now in Kosnovia. Austria has never seen me, probably has nevereven heard of me. I can slip through her cordon, swim ten Danubes ifneed be. What say you, General? Will I fill the bill? If I fail, whatdoes it matter? If I win--well, we must reverse the usual order ofthings, and my respected parent can step into my shoes."
"Alexis, I am proud of you----" began Prince Michael pompously; but asigh that was blended with a groan came again from his wife, andPrincess Delgrado drooped in a faint.
Alec lifted her in his arms and carried her to a bedroom. A queersilence fell on the four men in the boudoir. Even his Serene Highnesswas discomfited, and abandoned his position on the hearthrug to gazeout of the window. To his displeased surprise, a small crowd hadgathered. A man was pointing to the Delgrado apartments. Another man,carrying a bundle of newspapers, bore one of the curious small Parisiancontents bills, but its heavy black type was legible enough:"Assassination of the King and Queen of Kosnovia! King Michael inParis!"
Alec, having given the Princess to the care of her maid, came back. Hefound his father looking into the street, General Stampoff standing onthe hearthrug, and Count Julius whispering something in Beliani's ear.
"My mother will soon be all right," he announced cheerily. "She was abit upset, I suppose, by our warlike talk; but we were so excited thatwe forgot she was present. Well, father, what say you to my proposal?"
Prince Michael turned. His face was no longer in the light. Perhaps thatwas his notion when he first approached the window. "I think it is anexcellent one," he said. "Of course, there is a regrettable element ofrisk----"
"But what are we to understand?" broke in Stampoff's gruff accents."These things are not to be settled as a shopkeeper appoints an agent.Does your Highness renounce all claim to the throne of Kosnovia in favorof your son?"
Words have a peculiar value on such occasions. The substitution of"Highness" for "Majesty" was not devoid of significance; for Stampoff,though loyal to the backbone, was no courtier.
"No!" cried Alec sharply.
"Yes," said Prince Michael, after a pause.
Count Julius Marulitch breathed heavily, and Constantine Beliani threw awary eye over Alec.
"Good!" said Stampoff. "That clears the air. I shall be ready toaccompany your Majesty by the train that leaves the Gare de l'Est atseven-thirty P.M."
Prince Michael laughed dryly. "You see," he said. "I was sure Stampoffwould interfere with my dinner hour."
There was almost a touch of genius in the remark. Its very vacuity toldof the man's exceeding unfitness for the role thrust upon him by certaindesperadoes in the far off Balkans.
"We must have money," growled Stampoff with a most unflattering lack ofrecognition of the elder Delgrado's humor.
"Ah!" said Prince Michael, plunging both hands into his trousers'pockets and keeping them there.
"How much?" inquired Beliani.
"To begin with, fifty thousand
francs. After that, all that can beraised."
"It is most unfortunate, but my--er--investments have been singularlyunremunerative of late," said his Serene Highness.
"Why fifty thousand francs?" inquired Alec, half choked with wrath atsight of his father's obvious relief when the terrifying phantom of theBlack Castle was replaced by this delectable Paris. Yet, with it all, hewas aware of a consuming desire to laugh. There was a sense of utterfarce in thus disposing of the affairs of nations in a flat in the RueBoissiere. He recalled the exiled potentates of the music hall review,and the bitter wit of the dramatist was now justified. It was ludicrous,too, of Stampoff to address him as "your Majesty."
"Even Kings must give bribes occasionally," explained the impetuousGeneral.
"Or promise them," said Count Julius.
"Or take them," said Beliani.
"If I am to be a King, I mean to dispense with these bad habits," saidAlec. "We need our railway fares only, General. Once at Delgratz, ourfickle Kosnovia must either maintain us or shoot us. In either event, weare provided for."
"Still, we must have sufficient funds to secure a foothold," urgedStampoff.
"I charge myself with providing ten thousand francs," said the Greek.
Alec glanced at his watch. "Give the money to Stampoff. He may want it.I do not," he said. "Dumont, though a horse dealer, is fairly honest. Myfour ponies are worth another ten, and he will surely pay me five, cashdown. We meet at the Gare de l'Est. Who goes? You, Julius?"
"No," said the Count, "I shall follow when you have made a beginning. Mypresence would hamper you now. I am too well known, and secrecy isall-important until you are at the head of the army."
Alec turned on him with an air that would have delighted Joan, could shehave been present.
"The army!" he cried. "I know nothing of leading armies. I mean to placemyself at the head of the people."
"Nonsense, Alexis! Make for the troops. They alone can make or mar you,"said Prince Michael.
"We shall settle those points at Delgratz," declared the brusk Stampoff."You will bring the money, half in gold, to the station?" he added toBeliani.
"Yes. Gold is best. For the remainder, you will want Russian notes."
Something seemed to be troubling the august mind of Prince Michael. "Bythe way, my dear Beliani," he began; but the Greek awoke into a verypanic of action.
"Pray forgive me, your Highness," he said. "If I have to raise such alarge sum before seven o'clock I cannot lose an instant."
"I shall see you off from the Gare de l'Est," cried Marulitch hurriedly,and the two quitted the room in company. Alec went to pay a brief visitto his mother, and Prince Michael was left alone with the rugged oldGeneral. Then, for a few seconds, he became a man.
"You must forgive me, Paul," he said huskily. "I am not fitted for thework. I am broken down, a trifler, a worn out old dandy. You have gotthe right metal in Alexis. See to it that he does not follow my example,but keeps unstained the family name."
"God's bones! he will do that at least," muttered Stampoff. "If you oryour father had possessed half his spirit, there would never have beenan Obrenovitch on the throne of Kosnovia! Ferdinand VII., Michael V.,Alexis III.! By the patriarch! somehow you Delgrados have managed atlast to breed a King!"
