Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Islands -- Fiction; Love stories; Nobility -- Fiction
Now she was come to the island and, so far as he had been able to see,
there was no sign of the Prince of Brabetz in attendance. The absence of
the little musician set Chase to thinking, then to speculating and, in
the end, to rejoicing. Her uncle by marriage, an English nobleman of
high degree, in gathering his friends for the long cruise, evidently had
left the Prince out of his party, for what reason Chase could not
imagine. To say that the omission was gratifying to the tall American
would be too simple a statement. There is no telling to what heights his
thoughts might have carried him on that sultry afternoon if they had not
been harshly checked by the arrival of a messenger from the château. His
blood leaped with anticipation. Selim brought word that the messenger
was waiting to deliver a note. The Enemy, who shall be called by his
true name hereafter, steadied himself and commanded that the man be
brought forthwith.
Could it be possible--but no! _She_ would not be writing to him. What a
ridiculous thought! Lady Deppingham? Ah, there was the solution! She was
acting as the go-between, she was the intermediary! She and the Princess
had put their cunning heads together--but, alas! His hopes fell flat as
the note was put into his eager hand. It was from Britt.
Still he broke the seal with considerable eagerness. As he perused the
somewhat lengthy message, his disappointment gave way to a no uncertain
form of excitement; with its conclusion, he was on his feet, his eyes
gleaming with enthusiasm.
"By George!" he exclaimed. "What luck! Things are coming my way with a
vengeance. I'll do it this very night, thanks to Britt. And I must not
forget Browne. Ah, what a consolation it is to know that there are
Americans wherever one goes. Selim! Selim!" He was standing as straight
as a corporal and his eyes were glistening with the fire of battle when
Selim came up and forgot to salute, so great was his wonder at the
transformation. "Get word to the men that I want every mother's son of
'em to attend a meeting in the market-place to-night at nine. Very
important, tell 'em. Tell Von Blitz that he's _got_ to be there. I'm
going to show him and my picturesque friend, Rasula, that I am here to
stay. And, Selim, tell that messenger to wait. There's an answer."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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