Gerald Strong and his wife had sat in their library late that evening, wondering why Ned and Kate had not returned, when the butler brought in to them the late edition of a newspaper whose startling head-lines seemed to tremble with excitement. They had barely finished reading the astounding6 details of a pregnant international crisis, when the arrival of the carriage that bore to their door a dethroned king, a fatherless youth, upon whose shoulders rested a great burden demanding an heroic sacrifice, broke in upon their conversation.
While the somewhat disjointed explanations[137] of the truants7 were doing their utmost to add to the confusion of Mrs. Strong’s mind, her husband had taken Prince Carlo by the hand, and, telling Ned to accompany them, had led the guest he had known as Count Szalaki into the library.
“I have read the whole story,” said the banker, when they found themselves alone. “You have suffered a great wrong, Prince Carlo. You have my heartfelt sympathy.”
He took the young man’s hand, and continued, very gently, “I have sad news for you.”
Prince Carlo gazed at him with eyes that were full of agony.
“He is dead?”
“Yes,” answered Gerald Strong. “He died this afternoon.”
A change came over the face of the son of kings. The dread8 certainty that confronted him seemed to affect him like a call to arms. He stood more erect9, the lines around his mouth grew firm, and his voice was cold and hard, as he said:
“Mr. Strong, may I ask you to tell me all that you have heard?”
“You will find the facts, as far as they are known, in this despatch from Rexopolis.”
Prince Carlo took the newspaper and eagerly perused10 the two columns outlining the situation at his capital. While he was reading, Ned Strong said to his father:
“How did you know, father, that Count Szalaki was the crown prince?”
“The Trumpet, Ned, has a long account of the occurrences that have made our manor-house unpleasantly notorious.”
“Ha!” cried Ned. “Our friend Mr. Benedict has been very energetic.”
[138]
“Furthermore,” continued Mr. Strong, “I have several despatches to-day from our representative in Vienna, who has been clever enough to suspect that Count Szalaki might be the Crown Prince Carlo.”
“Fejeravy!” he cried. “Fejeravy for President! It is impossible! Traitor14! Fejeravy, whom we have trusted for years as our most loyal subject! It is incredible!”
Prince Carlo sank into a chair wearily. The treachery of the man who had been his father’s closest adviser15 overwhelmed him for a moment. Suddenly he looked up at his host, his jaw16 firmly set and a gleam in his eyes that proved that a new incentive17 had come to him urging his return to his distracted fatherland.
“There is a steamer leaving for Southampton in the morning?” he asked, eagerly.
“Yes,” answered Gerald Strong. Then he seated himself beside the prince, and said, gently:
“You will forgive me, Prince Carlo, if I take the liberty of a much older man, not well versed18 in the etiquette19 of courts, to ask you if your return at such a crisis as the present is not foolhardy?”
“Mayhap,” cried the prince, a note of recklessness in his voice. “But think not that I am friendless because a few of my people have been tools in a traitor’s hands. A hundred years ago the madmen of France informed the world that kings and their God were dead. Short-sighted, deluded20 dreamers! They slew21 in the name of Freedom, and[139] brought forth—Napoleon. I shall go back, not to bring peace, but a sword. Fools that they are, to think that my people, loving me, will listen forever to the voice of Fejeravy.—Fejeravy, the Judas of my house! It is not for naught22 that we who hold the thrones of Europe are bound together by the ties of blood. What madness blinds my people? If I were dead, mayhap their crazy scheme would have some hope of victory. But behind me, as my allies, stand all the kings and emperors of the world. At my back are armies before which Rexania’s rabble23 rout24 would fly like chaff25. Mad as was the scheme that sought to make me abdicate26 my throne to please the wishes of a few adventurous27 rebels in this New World that I shall never see again, it was not more futile28 than the effort of my people to set up for themselves a government against which every court in Europe will be arrayed.”
Prince Carlo arose and paced the room restlessly. Gerald Strong and his son remained silent. They seemed to be gazing from a mountain-top upon some wild and bloody29 scene in ancient history. To these calm, unimpressionable Americans the future that called to this pale-faced youth seemed to be made of the warp30 and woof that form the texture31 of the visions of the night. Of what did he speak? Of an alien army under his command, placing him upon a throne stained with the blood of his own countrymen! He represented the very incarnation of Reaction calling with confidence upon its ancient allies, Blood and Iron. And yet he was a gentle youth. His smile was charming as he took the hand of his silent host and said:
[140]
“Forgive me for boring you with my selfish thoughts. You have been very kind. How much I thank you, I cannot say. And now, time presses. I have much to do, in small ways, before the steamer sails. May I trouble you to ask Miss Kate if I may say farewell?”
Ned Strong left the room and returned a moment later.
“My sister will see you in the drawing-room,” he said as he re-entered the library. “And then, if you wish, I will place myself at your service, Prince Carlo, until your departure.”
A moment later father and son were left alone. They remained silent for several minutes, attempting to readjust their wandering thoughts to the quiet exigencies32 of their own environment.
“I have another piece of news for you, father,” said Ned, after a time.
“Yes?”
“I am sure,” he explained, with an effort at playfulness, “that Mr. Benedict has not announced it in his ‘extra.’ Mrs. Brevoort has promised to be my wife.”
Prince Carlo of Rexania stood for an instant, white and trembling, upon the steps that led from Gerald Strong’s doorway33. Upon his lips he still felt the kiss of a loving and sorrow-stricken girl. The bell in a distant church-steeple was striking midnight.
“Come,” he said, gently, placing a hand upon Ned Strong’s arm,—“come, comrade, I need a friend to-night; for the world seems very sad.”
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收听单词发音
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1
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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2
despatch
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| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
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3
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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4
foresight
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| n.先见之明，深谋远虑 | |
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5
promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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6
astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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7
truants
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| n.旷课的小学生( truant的名词复数 )；逃学生；逃避责任者；懒散的人 | |
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8
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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9
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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10
perused
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| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的过去式和过去分词 )；（尤指）细阅；审阅；匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览（某篇文字） | |
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11
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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12
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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13
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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14
traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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15
adviser
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| n.劝告者，顾问 | |
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16
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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17
incentive
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| n.刺激；动力；鼓励；诱因；动机 | |
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18
versed
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| adj. 精通，熟练 | |
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19
etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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20
deluded
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| v.欺骗，哄骗( delude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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21
slew
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| v.（使）旋转；n.大量，许多 | |
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22
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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23
rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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24
rout
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| n.溃退，溃败；v.击溃，打垮 | |
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25
chaff
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| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
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26
abdicate
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| v.让位，辞职，放弃 | |
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27
adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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28
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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29
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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30
warp
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| vt.弄歪，使翘曲，使不正常，歪曲，使有偏见 | |
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31
texture
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| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
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32
exigencies
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| n.急切需要 | |
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33
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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