The Mad King

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  XI

  THE BATTLE

  At five o'clock that afternoon the sidewalks bordering MargarethaStreet were crowded with promenaders. The little tables before thecafes were filled. Nearly everyone spoke of the great war and of theperil which menaced Lutha. Upon many a lip was open disgust at thesupine attitude of Leopold of Lutha in the face of an Austrianinvasion of his country. Discontent was open. It was ripening tosomething worse for Leopold than an Austrian invasion.

  Presently a sergeant of the Royal Horse Guards cantered down thestreet from the palace. He stopped here and there, and, dismounting,tacked placards in conspicuous places. At the notice, and in eachinstance cheers and shouting followed the sergeant as he rode on tothe next stop.

  Now, at each point men and women were gathered, eagerly awaiting anexplanation of the jubilation farther up the street. Those whom thesergeant passed called to him for an explanation, and not receivingit, followed in a quickly growing mob that filled Margaretha Streetfrom wall to wall. When he dismounted he had almost to fight his wayto the post or door upon which he was to tack the next placard. Thecrowd surged about him in its anxiety to read what the placard bore,and then, between the cheering and yelling, those in the frontpassed back to the crowd the tidings that filled them with so greatrejoicing.

  "Leopold has declared war on Austria!" "The king calls forvolunteers!" "Long live the king!"

  The battle of Lustadt has passed into history. Outside of thelittle kingdom of Lutha it received but passing notice by the worldat large, whose attention was riveted upon the great conflicts alongthe banks of the Meuse, the Marne, and the Aisne. But in Lutha! Ah,it will be told and retold, handed down from mouth to mouth and fromgeneration to generation to the end of time.

  How the cavalry that the king sent north toward Blentz met theadvancing Austrian army. How, fighting, they fell back upon theinfantry which lay, a thin line that stretched east and west acrossthe north of Lustadt, in its first line of trenches. A pitifullyweak line it was, numerically, in comparison with the forces of theinvaders; but it stood its ground heroically, and from the heightsto the north of the city the fire from the forts helped to hold theenemy in check for many hours.

  And then the enemy succeeded in bringing up their heavy artillery tothe ridge that lies three miles north of the forts. Shells werebursting in the trenches, the forts, and the city. To the south astream of terror-stricken refugees was pouring out of Lustadt alongthe King's Road. Rich and poor, animated by a common impulse, filledthe narrow street that led to the city's southern gate. Carts drawnby dogs, laden donkeys, French limousines, victorias,wheelbarrows--every conceivable wheeled vehicle and beast ofburden--were jammed in a seemingly inextricable tangle in the madrush for safety.

  Rumor passed back and forth through the fleeing thousands. Now cameword that Fort No. 2 had been silenced by the Austrian guns.Immediately followed news that the Luthanian line was falling backupon the city. Fear turned to panic. Men fought to outdistance theirneighbors.

  A shell burst upon a roof-top in an adjoining square.

  Women fainted and were trampled. Hoarse shouts of anger mingledwith screams of terror, and then into the midst of it fromMargaretha Street rode a man on horseback. Behind him were a scoreof officers. A trumpeter raised his instrument to his lips, andabove the din of the fleeing multitude rose the sharp, triple callthat announces the coming of the king. The mob halted and turned.

  Looking down upon them from his saddle was Leopold of Lutha. Hispalm was raised for silence and there was a smile upon his lips.Quite suddenly, and as by a miracle, fear left them. They made aline for him and his staff to ride through. One of the officersturned in his saddle to address a civilian friend in an automobile.

  "His majesty is riding to the firing line," he said and he raisedhis voice that many might hear. Quickly the word passed from mouthto mouth, and as Barney Custer, of Beatrice, passed along MargarethaStreet he was followed by a mad din of cheering that drowned thebooming of the distant cannon and the bursting of the shells abovethe city.

  The balance of the day the pseudo-king rode back and forth along hislines. Three of his staff were killed and two horses were shot frombeneath him, but from the moment that he appeared the Luthanian lineceased to waver or fall back. The advanced trenches that they hadabandoned to the Austrians they took again at the point of thebayonet. Charge after charge they repulsed, and all the time therehovered above the enemy Lutha's sole aeroplane, watching, watching,ever watching for the coming of the allies. Somewhere to thenortheast the Serbians were advancing toward Lustadt. Would theycome in time?

  It was five o'clock in the morning of the second day, and though theLuthanian line still held, Barney Custer knew that it could not holdfor long. The Austrian artillery fire, which had been rather wildthe preceding day, had now become of deadly accuracy. Each burstingshell filled some part of the trenches with dead and wounded, andthough their places were taken by fresh men from the reserve, therewould soon be no reserve left to call upon.

  At his left, in the rear, the American had massed the bulk of hisreserves, and at the foot of the heights north of the city and justbelow the forts the major portion of the cavalry was drawn up in theshelter of a little ravine. Barney's eyes were fixed upon thesoaring aeroplane.

  In his hand was his watch. He would wait another fifteen minutes,and if by then the signal had not come that the Serbians wereapproaching, he would strike the blow that he had decided upon. Fromtime to time he glanced at his watch.

  The fifteen minutes had almost elapsed when there fluttered from thetiny monoplane a paper parachute. It dropped for several hundredfeet before it spread to the air pressure and floated more gentlytoward the earth and a moment later there burst from its basket apuff of white smoke. Two more parachutes followed the first and twomore puffs of smoke. Then the machine darted rapidly off toward thenortheast.

  Barney turned to Prince von der Tann with a smile. "They are nonetoo soon," he said.

  The old prince bowed in acquiescence. He had been very happy fortwo days. Lutha might be defeated now, but she could never besubdued. She had a king at last--a real king. Gott! How he hadchanged. It reminded Prince von der Tann of the day he had riddenbeside the impostor two years before in the battle with the forcesof Peter of Blentz. Many times he had caught himself scrutinizingthe face of the monarch, searching for some proof that after all hewas not Leopold.

  "Direct the commanders of forts three and four to concentrate theirfire on the enemy's guns directly north of Fort No. 3," Barneydirected an aide. "Simultaneously let the cavalry and ColonelKazov's infantry make a determined assault on the Austriantrenches."

  Then he turned his horse toward the left of his line, where, alittle to the rear, lay the fresh troops that he had been holding inreadiness against this very moment. As he galloped across the plain,his staff at his heels, shrapnel burst about them. Von der Tannspurred to his side.

  "Sire," he cried, "it is unnecessary that you take such grave risks.Your staff is ready and willing to perform such service that you maybe preserved to your people and your throne."

  "I believe the men fight better when they think their king iswatching them," said the American simply.

  "I know it, sire," replied Von der Tann, "but even so, Lutha couldill afford to lose you now. I thank God, your majesty, that I havelived to see this day--to see the last of the Rubinroths upholdingthe glorious traditions of the Rubinroth blood."

  Barney led the reserves slowly through the wood to the rear of theextreme left of his line. The attack upon the Austrian right centerappeared to be meeting with much greater success than the Americandared to hope for. Already, through his glasses, he could seeindications that the enemy was concentrating a larger force at thispoint to repulse the vicious assaults of the Luthanians. To do thisthey must be drawing from their reserves back of other portions oftheir line.

  It was what Barney had desired. The three bombs from the aeroplanehad told him that the Serbians had been sighted three miles aw
ay.Already they were engaging the Austrians. He could hear the rattleof rifles and quick-firers and the roar of cannon far to thenortheast. And now he gave the word to the commander of the reserve.

  At a rapid trot the men moved forward behind the extreme left end ofthe Luthanian left wing. They were almost upon the Austrians beforethey emerged from the shelter of the wood, and then with hoarseshouts and leveled bayonets they charged the enemy's position. Thefight there was the bloodiest of the two long days. Back and forththe tide of battle surged. In the thick of it rode the false kingencouraging his men to greater effort. Slowly at last they bore theAustrians from their trenches. Back and back they bore them untilretreat became a rout. The Austrian right was crumpled back upon itscenter!

  Here the enemy made a determined stand; but just before dark a greatshouting arose from the heights to their left, where the bulk oftheir artillery was stationed. Both the Luthanian and Austriantroops engaged in the plain saw Austrian infantry and artilleryrunning down the slopes in disorderly rout. Upon their heads came acheering line of soldiers firing as they ran, and above them wavedthe battleflag of Serbia.

  A mighty shout rose from the Luthanian ranks--an answering groanfrom the throats of the Austrians. Hemmed in between the two linesof allies, the Austrians were helpless. Their artillery wascaptured, retreat cut off. There was but a single alternative tomassacre--the white flag.

  A few regiments between Lustadt and Blentz, but nearer the lattertown, escaped back into Austria, the balance Barney arranged withthe Serbian minister to have taken back to Serbia as prisoners ofwar. The Luthanian army corps that the American had promised theSerbs was to be utilized along the Austrian frontier to prevent thepassage of Austrian troops into Serbia through Lutha.

  The return to Lustadt after the battle was made through cheeringtroops and along streets choked with joy-mad citizenry. The name ofthe soldier-king was upon every tongue. Men went wild withenthusiasm as the tall figure rode slowly through the crowd towardthe palace.

  Von der Tann, grim and martial, found his lids damp with themoisture of a great happiness. Even now with all the proofs ofreality about him, it seemed impossible that this scene could beaught but the ephemeral vapors of a dream--that Leopold of Lutha,the coward, the craven, could have become in a single day the heroicfigure that had loomed so large upon the battlefield of Lustadt--thesimple, modest gentleman who received the plaudits of his subjectswith bowed head and humble mien.

  As Barney Custer rode up Margaretha Street toward the royal palaceof the kings of Lutha, a dust-covered horseman in the uniform of anofficer of the Horse Guards entered Lustadt from the south. It wasthe young aide of Prince von der Tann's staff, who had been sent toBlentz nearly a week earlier with a message for the king, and whohad been captured and held by the Austrians.

  During the battle before Lustadt all the Austrian troops had beenwithdrawn from Blentz and hurried to the front. It was then that theaide had been transferred to the castle, from which he had escapedearly that morning. To reach Lustadt he had been compelled to circlethe Austrian position, coming to Lustadt from the south.

  Once within the city he rode straight to the palace, flung himselffrom his jaded mount, and entered the left wing of the building--thewing in which the private apartments of the chancellor were located.

  Here he inquired for the Princess Emma, learning with evident reliefthat she was there. A moment later, white with dust, his facestreamed with sweat, he was ushered into her presence.

  "Your highness," he blurted, "the king's commands have beendisregarded--the American is to be shot tomorrow. I have justescaped from Blentz. Peter is furious. He realizes that whether theAustrians win or lose, his standing with the king is gone forever.

  "In a fit of rage he has ordered that Mr. Custer be sacrificed tohis desire for revenge, in the hope that it will insure for him thefavor of the Austrians. Something must be done at once if he is tobe saved."

  For a moment the girl swayed as though about to fall. The youngofficer stepped quickly to support her, but before he reached herside she had regained complete mastery of herself. From the streetwithout there rose the blare of trumpets and the cheering of thepopulace.

  Through senses numb with the cold of anguish the meaning of thetumult slowly filtered to her brain--the king had come. He wasreturning from the battlefield, covered with honors and flushed withglory--the man who was to be her husband; but there was no rejoicingin the heart of the Princess Emma.

  Instead, there was a dull ache and impotent rebellion at theinjustice of the thing--that Leopold should be reaping these greatrewards, while he who had made it possible for him to be a king atall was to die on the morrow because of what he had done to placethe Rubinroth upon his throne.

  "Perhaps Lieutenant Butzow might find a way," suggested the officer."He or your father; they are both fond of Mr. Custer."

  "Yes," said the girl dully, "see Lieutenant Butzow--he would do themost."

  The officer bowed and hastened from the apartment in search ofButzow. The girl approached the window and stood there for a longtime, looking out at the surging multitude that pressed around thepalace gates, filling Margaretha Street with a solid mass of happyfaces.

  They cheered the king, the chancellor, the army; but most often theycheered the king. From a despised monarch Leopold had risen in asingle bound to the position of a national idol.

  Repeatedly he was called to the balcony over the grand entrance thatthe people might feast their eyes on him. The princess wondered howlong it was before she herself would be forced to offer hercongratulations and, perchance, suffer his caresses. She shiveredand cringed at the thought, and then there came a knock upon thedoor, and in answer to her permission it opened, and the king stoodupon the threshold alone.

  At a glance the man took in the pain and sorrow mirrored upon thegirl's face. He stepped quickly across the room toward her.

  "What is it?" he asked. "What is the matter?"

  For a moment he had forgotten the part that he had beenplaying--forgot that the Princess Emma was ignorant of his identity.He had come to her to share with her the happiness of the hour--theglory of the victorious arms of Lutha. For a time he had almostforgotten that he was not the king, and now he was forgetting thathe was not Barney Custer to the girl who stood before him withmisery and hopelessness writ so large upon her countenance.

  For a brief instant the girl did not reply. She was weighing theproblematical value of an attempt to enlist the king in the cause ofthe American. Leopold had shown a spark of magnanimity when he hadwritten a pardon for Mr. Custer; might he not rise again above hispetty jealousy and save the American's life? It was a forlorn hopeto the woman who knew the true Leopold so well; but it was a hope.

  "What is the matter?" the king repeated.

  "I have just received word that Prince Peter has ignored yourcommands, sire," replied the girl, "and that Mr. Custer is to beshot tomorrow."

  Barney's eyes went wide with incredulity. Here was a pretty pass,indeed! The princess came close to him and seized his arm.

  "You promised, sire," she said, "that he would not be harmed--yougave your royal word. You can save him. You have an army at yourcommand. Do not forget that he once saved you."

  The note of appeal in her voice and the sorrow in her eyes gaveBarney Custer a twinge of compunction. The necessity for longerconcealing his identity in so far as the salvation of Lutha wasconcerned seemed past; but the American had intended to carry thedeception to the end.

  He had given the matter much thought, but he could find no groundsfor belief that Emma von der Tann would be any happier in theknowledge that her future husband had had nothing to do with thevictory of his army. If she was doomed to a life at his side, whynot permit her the grain of comfort that she might derive from thememory of her husband's achievements upon the battlefield ofLustadt? Why rob her of that little?

  But now, face to face with her, and with the evidence of hersuffering so plain before him, Barney's intentions wavered. Likemost f
ighting men, he was tender in his dealings with women. And nowthe last straw came in the form of a single tiny tear that trickleddown the girl's cheek. He seized the hand that lay upon his arm.

  "Your highness," he said, "do not grieve for the American. He is notworth it. He has deceived you. He is not at Blentz."

  The girl drew her hand from his and straightened to her full height.

  "What do you mean, sire?" she exclaimed. "Mr. Custer would notdeceive me even if he had an opportunity--which he has not had. Butif he is not at Blentz, where is he?"

  Barney bowed his head and looked at the floor.

  "He is here, your highness, asking your forgiveness," he said.

  There was a puzzled expression upon the girl's face as she looked atthe man before her. She did not understand. Why should she? Barneydrew a diamond ring from his little finger and held it out to her.

  "You gave it to me to cut a hole in the window of the garage where Istole the automobile," he said. "I forgot to return it. Now do youknow who I am?"

  Emma von der Tann's eyes showed her incredulity; then, act by act,she recalled all that this man had said and done since they hadescaped from Blentz that had been so unlike the king she knew.

  "When did you assume the king's identity?" she asked.

  Barney told her all that had transpired in the king's apartments atBlentz before she had been conducted to the king's presence.

  "And Leopold is there now?" she asked.

  "He is there," replied Barney, "and he is to be shot in themorning."

  "Gott!" exclaimed the girl. "What are we to do?"

  "There is but one thing to do," replied the American, "and that isfor Butzow and me to ride to Blentz as fast as horses will carry usand rescue the king."

  "And then?" asked the girl, a shadow crossing her face.

  "And then Barney Custer will have to beat it for the boundary," hereplied with a sorry smile.

  She came quite close to him, laying her hands upon his shoulders.

  "I cannot give you up now," she said simply. "I have tried to beloyal to Leopold and the promise that my father made his king when Iwas only a little girl; but since I thought that you were to beshot, I have wished a thousand times that I had gone with you toAmerica two years ago. Take me with you now, Barney. We can sendLieutenant Butzow to rescue the king, and before he has returned wecan be safe across the Serbian frontier."

  The American shook his head.

  "I got the king into this mess and I must get him out," he said."He may deserve to be shot, but it is up to me to prevent it, if Ican. And there is your father to consider. If Butzow rides to Blentzand rescues the king, it may be difficult to get him back to Lustadtwithout the truth of his identity and mine becoming known. With methere, the change can be effected easily, and not even Butzow needknow what has happened.

  "If the people should guess that it was not Leopold who won thebattle of Lustadt there might be the devil to pay, and your fatherwould go down along with the throne. No, I must stay until Leopoldis safe in Lustadt. But there is a hope for us. I may be able towrest from Leopold his sanction of our marriage. I shall nothesitate to use threats to get it, and I rather imagine that he willbe in such a terror-stricken condition that he will assent to anyterms for his release from Blentz. If he gives me such a paper,Emma, will you marry me?"

  Perhaps there never had been a stranger proposal than this; but toneither did it seem strange. For two years each had known the loveof the other. The girl's betrothal to the king had prevented anavowal of their love while Barney posed in his own identity. Nowthey merely accepted the conditions that had existed for two yearsas though a matter of fact which had been often discussed betweenthem.

  "Of course I'll marry you," said the princess. "Why in the worldwould I want you to take me to America otherwise?"

  As Barney Custer took her in his arms he was happier than he hadever before been in all his life, and so, too, was the Princess Emmavon der Tann.