Trusia: A Princess of Krovitch

by Davis Brinton

  XIX

  IT WAS JUDSON'S FAULT

  Calvert Carter had a very democratic conversation with His Majesty ofKrovitch. They were standing on the platform of the station at Viennawaiting with ill-concealed impatience for the train which was to carrythem into Krovitch. Needless to say, their talk turned upon the King'srecent misbehavior. It contained a sketchy outline of what the Americanconsidered would happen did the monarch again put such an affront uponHer Grace.

  "You threaten, Major Carter?" asked Stovik with the insolenceinseparable from a recent exaltation from humble life.

  "No, Your Majesty," replied Carter, no whit annoyed by the other'sill-temper; "I never threaten. I promise." That was all that was said.Neither Eugene Delmotte in his proper person nor the future ruler ofKrovitch was able, however, to withstand the cool, hard glitter in theAmerican's eyes.

  They boarded the waiting train as they came to this understanding. KingStovik's conduct for this new journey was exemplary. Nor were thereother pretty coquettes available. He even exerted himself sufficientlyto take an interest in the general conversation, at which Trusia's facebrightened with appreciation.

  Houses, fields, woods, mountains and sky fled by as the train sped on.At last the Vistula was crossed. Trusia's face grew radiant as thelandmarks of her country began to appear on every hand. With grumblingwheels the cars drew nearer Schallberg.

  "See, away off there to the northeast. There, that tiny speck againstthe sky," she cried rapturously as one returning home from a longsojourn abroad. "That is my castle. Do you see it, Your Majesty?" sheasked, as she turned appealingly to him. "Schallberg, your capital, liesthis side of it. The city is in a valley on the far side of thismountain we are now climbing." The whole party were peering out of thewindows on the rapidly changing landscape, eagerly awaiting the firstview of the place of their hopes.

  The train, sobbing out its protests against the steep ascent, soonbrought them into a region of puzzling circumstances. Flashing pastrural crossroads, they could see large groups of excited peasantstalking, gesticulating and laughing, as they one and all were pointingin the direction of the capital. To their greater bewilderment, videttesin jaunty black and gold could be seen, as if courting publicity,patroling the public highways.

  "What can it mean?" asked Trusia, whose heart beat wildly with a surmiseshe dare not voice.

  The crest of the mountain was reached. The city lay spread before them.Over the Government buildings floated the Lion of Krovitch. Thestandard, waving gently in the breeze, seemed beckoning them toapproach.

  "The city is ours," burst simultaneously from their lips. The train inone headlong descent drew up at the station at Schallberg.

  Looking out they could see a multitude of eager, expectant faces turnedtrainward. All Schallberg and most of the surrounding country hadcongregated to welcome their sovereign.

  In the front rank Carter espied his former friends, while last but notleast a jubilant Carrick awaited his alighting. A guard was drawn upabout the platform on which stood the little group of officers.

  Urged to the front, King Stovik was the first to step into view of thethrong. Recognizing him, the officers drew their swords and raised themhigh above their heads.

  "Long live King Stovik!" they cried.

  For the life of a sigh there was a silence while the multitude realizedthat this man was their King. Then a pandemonium of cheers shatteredthe air. A roar of two centuries of repressed loyalty greeted him. Hewould indeed have been of meagre soul not to have been touched by suchdevotion. Handkerchiefs, hats, and flags were waved by his people--hispeople--at sight of him. What could be the limited fame of an artistcompared to the devotion of an entire people for their sovereign? Hestood erect, proudly lifting his hat to the full height of his arm indignified response. There came a mightier cheer.

  "Long live Stovik Fourth!"

  "God save the King of Krovitch!"

  "A Lion for the Bear!"

  Filled with the moment's majesty, Stovik stepped down to greet hisofficers.

  Next came Trusia. The crowd caught sight of her happy, inspired face.She was recognized by all; they knew and worshiped her. A wilder cry, amightier joy, made up of mingled cheers and tears, went up at sight ofher. Her bosom heaved, her lips trembled. At the thought of hercountry's salvation her glorious eyes grew soft and moist. Lovingly,almost maternally, she held out her arms to her beloved countrymen.

  Somewhere in the crowd a woman's voice was heard to cry: "Saint Trusia;angel!" Ten thousand voices took up the acclaim. She shook her headreprovingly as she, too, joined the group about His Majesty. AfterCarter and the others stepped upon the platform, the former looked abouthim for his whilom chauffeur. Carrick, with some difficulty, pushed hisway through the crowd and was soon at his master's side.

  "'Ave a pleasant trip, sir?" he asked, his mobile countenance abeam withjoy at the meeting. The aide cast a significant glance at the crowd,then at the Krovitch standard, before replying.

  "Fairly, Carrick," he said. "I notice that you and our friends have beenbusy hereabouts in our absence," he added, hinting at an enlightenment.

  The Cockney's face grew red with embarrassment as he answered lightly,"Yes, we 'ave sort of kept our hands in, sir. It's a long story," heappended, appreciating that his master must have some natural curiosityregarding the premature change in plans which had resulted in thecapture of the city before the coming of the King. The American smiled,he felt sure that the fellow had had a greater part in the proceedingsthan he would like to confess in public. Something on Carrick's sleevesseemed to confirm this supposition.

  "All right," he answered, "I guess it will keep until we have reachedour quarters. By the way how did you get the chevrons of asergeant-major? That's the highest rank a non com. can aspire to."

  Carrick grinned. "That's part of the story, sir," he retorted.

  Zulka, having made his devoirs to the sovereign, now approached hisfriend.

  "Surprised, Cal?" he queried.

  "I surely am, Zulka. How----" Carter began when he was interrupted bythe Count who laid a friendly hand upon his shoulder.

  "Things are moving," said the Krovitzer with a twinkle in his eye. "I'mbusy, ask Carrick." He chuckled as if it were a huge joke.

  "I feel as if I had missed something big," the American replied with thegenerous regret of one who would have thoroughly enjoyed his own shareof the labor.

  "Thank Carrick for that. Here comes Sutphen. He'll be Marshal for this,"he said as the grizzled commanding officer approached. All threesaluted.

  "Congratulations, Colonel," said Carter as the elder man acknowledgedtheir formal courtesies.

  "Sorry I can't congratulate you, Major," the veteran replied with a drychuckle; "the truth is that you have lost a valuable asset by thevictory." Calvert was properly mystified.

  "So?" he questioned; "I haven't missed anything yet."

  "A good attendant," the other explained, pointing to the Cockney. "Ourarmy will never let him go, now. They'd sooner give him my place.Nothing but continued obstinacy on his part hinders him from wearingshoulder straps."

  "Carrick seems in high favor about here," Carter remarked as a morepronounced hint for enlightenment. Sutphen grunted.

  "Let him tell you, then," he said. "Excuse me. Her Grace is looking thisway." He straightway departed to escape explanations and Zulka followedhim.

  While these greetings were being exchanged, the populace were not idle.With enthusiastic vigor they had removed the horses from the equipagesmeant for the royal party, and now, through a spokesman, beggedpermission to draw the carriages themselves as a token of their devotedallegiance. Stovik gaily agreed when their request was explained to him.

  "Come with me, Sergeant," Calvert requested. Elated at the opportunity,the Cockney leaped into the landau beside him. Pulled, pushed andsurrounded by a cheering, happy pack, the entire suite was whirled alongtoward Trusia's castle. When well under way, the New Yorker turned tothe man beside him. He seemed to beg Carrick
for an explanation of theday's mystery.

  "Well," he ejaculated, in the assurance that the Cockney alwayscomprehended his monosyllabic meanings. Carrick reddened sheepishlyunder the other's gaze.

  "You remember Judson? Sergeant Judson, of old E Troop?" he inquired, notknowing how to commence his narrative.

  "Yes," Carter replied, "what of him?"

  "It's his fault," Carrick answered, pointing at the densely packed massof Krovitzers about them.

  "What are you driving at?"

  "It's this wye, sir," said his whilom chauffeur, taking grace of words."You know we struck this plyce yesterday. Feelin' out o' plyce amongthem furrin-speakin' Krovitzers I hiked down to the Russian guardmount."

  "You mean that you understood Russian better than the native language?"

  "Not that, sir, but I knew I would feel more at 'ome there than I wouldwith the big bugs. When I got there the band was a plyin' over at theside o' the square, the flags was aflyin', and blyme me if somethingdidn't stick in my throat, thinkin' of old times, sir." His eyes grewsoft at the recollections evoked. "When it came time for 'Sergeantsfront and centre' I got to thinkin' how old Sarge Judson used to stalkup as proud as Colonel Wood himself. I 'ad to rub my bloomin' eyes, forlarge as life, there was Doc Judson with all them whiskered chaps."

  "Surely, Carrick," interrupted the astonished Carter, "you must bemistaken. You don't mean Sergeant Judson of the First VolunteerCavalry?"

  "The syme, sir. When they countermarched back to barracks I saw 'imagain. That was fine, sir," said the fellow enthusiastically. "Quitelike old times, sir. Right 'and grippin' the piece; left 'and swingin'free. Swingin' along, swingin', swingin', swingin' to the music o' theband. When a fellow who is out of it has been in the service, 'e feelsbloomin' soft when 'e sees the fours sweep by 'im. I wanted to cheer andswing me bloomin' cap just to keep from blubberin'. Then, right guide ofhis four, come Judson. Six paces awye he saw me. He turned white, thenred, but like the good soldier 'e was, 'e never let it spoil 'iscadence. 'E tipped me the wink and passed by. I waited. Presently 'ecame back. 'Are you with the gang at the castle?' 'e arsked. I said Iwas. 'Cut it, Bull, and run,' 'e said. They used to call me John Bull,you know. Then 'e added slow as if 'e was not sure 'e 'ad the right totell--'I'm on to their game. To-morrow mornin' I'm goin' to squeal on'em to the commandant. That'll give you plenty o' time for you to getawye. For old times' syke, Bull,' 'e said as 'e gripped my 'and."

  Then Carrick went on to narrate how Judson had told him that a fellownamed Johann, who had broken jail, had just that morning drifted intothe guardhouse where the sergeant had the relief. He had promised Judsonif given twenty-four hours' start he would disclose a big game oftreason. Judson promised, and the fellow,--none other than thepent-browed peasant,--had related all he knew of the Krovitzers' plans.Carrick confessed to some trepidation when he had heard that so much wasknown outside their own party. But he had stood his guns manfully andrefused to fly. He gave as his reason his loyalty to Calvert Carter.When Judson learned that his old captain was walking straight into theimpending peril he was greatly surprised, but promised to take care ofhim or forfeit his life. Carrick by way of reply had innocently inquiredwho was sergeant of relief that night.

  "'E was wise, though," said Carrick with a laugh. "'E looked at mesuspiciously. 'I am,' 'e said with a jerk; 'why?'

  "'Better 'ave ball cartridges,' I says, 'I'm goin' to give you asurprise. That's a fair warnin' for a fair warnin', Doc,' I said. 'Eshowed 'e was worried. 'E begged me not to do it, sayin' that they'd'ave ball cartridges an' reinforcements a-plenty to-morrow, which isto-day, sir. I knew by that that they were shy at that time, sir. Ifound out that their strength was only 'arf a battalion. We sprung oursurprise last night, sir, overpowered the sentries and took the bloomin'town."

  "It will surely be traced to Judson, Carrick. You know what that meansfor him. I hope the poor fellow made his escape before they had thechance of standing him up against the wall. Did you see him again?"Carrick's mobile face took on an unaccustomed gravity.

  "Once," he answered with some effort. "Don't worry, sir, the Russianswon't bother _him_. You see," he hurried on with obvious haste, "wesneaked on each sentry until we came to Number One Post. It was near thegates--connected by phone and electric light wires with the barracks."

  "How did you manage?"

  "Cut the bloomin' wires."

  "Didn't the guard rush out?"

  "They did, sir. Couldn't find their pieces in the dark. They rushedright into the arms of the two companies Colonel Sutphen had therewaiting for them. Only one, a sergeant, 'ad grit enough to fight. 'Epicked me out, sir. Rushed me with 'is sword and gave me all I coulddo," said Carrick giving gallant tribute to a valiant foe. The Cockneybecame silent.

  "Well?" inquired Carter after a prolonged season of expectancy.

  "The old trick you taught me in E Troop did for 'im, sir. As 'e fell, 'esaid, 'Bull, you are a damned rascal,' and laughed as if the joke was on'im. 'I'm done for, Bull,' 'e went on, 'but I'd rather die this wye in afair fight with a friend, than blindfold against the wall for a traitor.Take care o' Cap Carter, 'e said. Then 'e croaked."

  "Judson," cried Carter regretfully at the death of a brave man.

  "Judson, of old E Troop," replied Carrick solemnly. "We sounded tapsover 'im this mornin', sir."