Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 271, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 November 1913 — Page 2

The League of Lost Causes

By H. M. EGBERT

How the Kaber Went to Paris

HOSEN for his position, his taciturnity and his discreJSK tion, Lord Claude occupied the post of secretary to what might fairly be called the most exalted club I ggjiillSn in Europe. A young man, barely turned thirty, after Y a brilliant career at Oxi ford, he had declined the honors that might legitimately have been his, and had chosen instead to wander from court to court among the highways of Europe. Wherever he went he made friends. He was one of those silent Treshams Who have played and still play so large a part behind the noisy politicians in whose control the destinies of Europe are supposed to lie. At present, however, he was engaged in a wider sphere of operations than the field of English politics allowed. He was secretary to what was nicknamed among its exalted members the “Black Cabinet” —more familiarly, the “Blacks.” Rumor ascribed to the aged emperor of Austria, Franz Joseph, the formulation of this unique conception a club of reigning monarchs. Certainly the proposition, whoever had propounded it, was taken up with alacrity. In these days of democracy kings must preserve the dignities of their order, even if it necessitates the formation of a royal trades union. What more fitting, then, than that the club should be inaugurated in Paris, where kings and emperors love to spend their holidays, far from the cares of state and pomp of power? Most of the ruling sovereigns, and not a few prospective or deposed ones, were members of the club, but not all were of the first order. The “Blacks,” in fact, comprised a limited number of the graver rulers, who were pledged to diverse things, but mainly to stand by one another and discountenance the spread of republican doctrines, to preserve the peace of Europe, and to act together in case that peace were menaced by the ambitions of the smaller, restless kings. The club was, theoretically, always in session, though it had no fixed meeting place. Lord Claude Tresham was traveling secretary, and carried the minutes of the meetings under his hat. The leaders of the “Blacks” were: Franz Joseph of Austria, Gustav of Sweden, George of England, Victor of Italy, George of Charles of Roumania and Haakon of Norway. “Outside” members, who were looked on with a certain suspicion, on account of their spirit of adventure and recklessness, though they were nominally of the club, were the czar, the kaiser and Ferdinand of Bulgaria. - " -- Given the black, the red must be created if it does not exist. The “Reds” were not members, but it was understood that they, too, were pledged to support each other in their various schemes. They comprised Alfonso of Spain, ex-King Manuel of Portugal, Peter of Servia, Nicholas of Montenegro and a number of leading statesmen, pledged in the main to overthrow democracy and the constitutional monarchies and to revive the spirit of absolutism in Europe. But for their support of Polish ambitions they might have numbered the wavering Czar Nicholas among their members. They were represented in western Europe by Jean Rosny of Paris, and It was to him that Paul Lane,' American millionaire and would-be adventurer of fortune, made his reports. The successful issue of his Moroccan mission had given Paul the hope that admission to the secret councils of the “Reds” might be his, that the mysterious woman whose urging had Induced him to devote himself and his fortunes to the League of Lost Causes would again be seen by him, would reveal her identity and let him plead his love. That she was in high rank iamong the ancient families of Europe he was aware, that she scorned him as a mere moneyed American he suspected. But the memory of her burned in his heart like an inextinguishable fire, and the impossibility of even gaining audience with her embittered him. In his despondency he broached the subject to Jean Rosny anew. The latter looked at him quizzically. “Paul, you are impatient,” be said. “Tell me one thing; did you ally yourself with us in the hope of gaining your lady’s affections, or out of sympathy with our cause?” “It was because I believed in the cause,” said Paul somberly. “But,” be added naively, “undoubtedly it was the charming personality of Mademoiselle—" - “Tea, of Mademoiselle,” answered Rosny dryly. “Let ua call her that, then,” Paul L«ne responded. “It was that which had a leading Influence upon my decision. Rosny, my money is indispensable to the league. You hare admitted as much to me. Then why—” “Why should you be debarred from meeting Mademoiselle again? Why, is it not enough, Paul, to know that aba watches you, that she approves of your work, to feel that some day you shall assuredly meet her again? My dear Paul, trust yourself to uis, with the knowledge that by each success you hapten the day when all that you

Being the Romantic Adventures of Panl Lane, American Millionaire

(Copyright, 1913, by W. G. Cha.oman.)

desire will be revealed to you, and when you will be admitted into the inner circles of the league. Now listen well, my friend. We have need of you again.” And he unrolled the plan which brought about this situation: that, while Lord Tresham gave to Monsieur Gabriel, the restaurant keeper, his last instructions as to the menu for a certain banquet, Paul, in the guise of a waiter, stood patiently by, napkin in hand, and a very clean white tie reposing on an Immaculate, stiff shirt front. There were six places at the table and five men, four of them kings, waited gravely for the last to arrive. They had shaken off the gayety that is so contagious in Paris,, for the occasion was a momentous one. If he should not arrive! • - “I know he will pot come,” said the Greek sovereign, playing with his bread. “He could not hope to escape recognition with those confounded Yankee journalists tagging him everywhere that he goes.” “I think he will come,” said Haakop. “Did you ever know hini to refuse an opportunity for such an adventure ?” “Yes, he’ll come,” answered Lord Claude. “Unfortunately—because —” The door opened and Monsieur Gabriel bowed to the floor like a fat angel of the Annunciation. And close behind him strode a tall, kipgly figure, clad in a voluminous robe, which he threw into Monsieur Gabriel’s arms, disclosing the personality of the kaiser himself. His four brother sovereigns rose simultaneously and embraced him. They joked and chaffed with one another throughout the meal, the kaiser’s presence lending an atmosphere of supreme good-fellowship to the proceedings. Lord Claude, impassive and inscrutable as he was, unbent at the kaiser’s charming raillery. The meal was nearly ended before Haakon remembered something. “By the way, Tresham,” he said, “why did you remark that his majesty would come ‘unfortunately?’ That was the very word, I believe. Come, speak up and tell us.” “That,” answered Tresham, “will form part of the subsequent proceedings of the club. The meeting,” he added, looking at his watch; “will not begin till nine. It is now twenty minutes short of the hour.” The cloth was removed, walnuts were placed beside the port, in accordance with Monsieur Gabriel’s immemorial custom, and the guests relaxed themselves in their chairs. The clock struck nine. Monsieur Gabriel, bowing low, dismissed himself to a chorus of compliments. “Go now, mademoiselles,” he said to the pretty waitresses. “Go, monsieur,” he added to Paul. The latter moved with the girls toward the exit behind the curtain. His mission was in the making—ten minutes more and — Then Lord Claude Tresham stood up in his chair. “One moment, please,” he said. “Monsieur Gabriel, where did you get these ladies?” “These ladies, monsieur, as you are pleased to call them, are experienced waitresses and" highly recommended,” answered the proprietor, smiling. “Mademoiselle Armine, here, served with the family of the Due de Berry for three years. Mademoiselle Nannette grew up, as I may say, with the family of the Due de Nemours. Her references are irreproachable.” “Enough,” said Tresham. “You and Mademoiselle Armine may retire through the door. Mademoiselle Nannette remains; she wishes to speak with us.” “Gentlemen,” he said, “you have wished to know why I referred to the visit of his majesty, the German emperor, as ’unfortunate.’ We need have no, secrets here. Our cards are all on the table. Your majesties, permit me to present Miss Nancy Shand.” The rulers inclined their heads gravely. 1 “A friend of yours, Lord Tresham?” inclined the Greek sovereign blandly. “No,’* answered Lord jClaude curtly. “One of your confounded Yankee journalists, and the cleverest in Europe at the present day.” “The devil!” shouted the Greek king, springing up in his chair and then collapsing with an apologetic air. “Well, the fat’s in the fire now,” he muttered. “Miss Shand,” said Lord Tresham, addressing the very composed young lady, “you are here tonight because, by a stroke of good fortune, you have learned of'the existence and meeting of our club. “You are well aware of what I discovered an hour before the dinner, that a conspiracy has been formed against his majesty, the kaiser, in the interests of two gentlemen—his majesty, King Peter of Servia and his highness, Prince Nicholas of Montenegro. Am I correct?” “I am not at liberty to give out advance information,” Mlse Nancy answered. “But since you know more than I, Miss Shand —or el»e you wduld not have been here —I will be frank with you. King Peter and Prince Nicholas have resolved to make s sudden at-

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

tack on Turkey—pray, sir, be seated and have patience for a moment. They learned that his majesty, the 'German emperor, intended, to visit France. They planned to detain him here for four and twenty hours, confident that, in his absence, none would have courage enough to veto their intentions. And, once the war had begun, all Europe would be aflame, and they would pull some flhe plums out of the pudding.” ° Suddenly the door was burst open and Monsieur Gabriel appeared on the threshold livid with fear. “Gentlemen, your majesties—” he stammered; and then Lord Claude took in the situation. He ran toward the door, followed by the rest. They were too late. Advancing toward them Came a file of six infantrymen, headed by a young lieutenant, who stopped six paces distant and motioned them back. “Gentlemen,” he said, “you are under arrest on the charge of conspiring against the French republic. You must come with me at once. Shall I read the warrant?’’ The sovereigns looked at one another aghast. Arrest in Paris was no joke, even though the charges must

fall and their release be effected Immediately after they had reached the station house and held a confidential discussion with the sergeant In charge. But the kaiser—the kaiser, arrested in Paris! But the monarchs’ dismay was fully equaled by that of Paul, who, still attired in waiter’s garb, lingered by the curtain. So far he had fulfilled his instructions admirably. It was necessary, as Lord Tresham had said, that the kaiser should be detained in France, while Peter and Nicholas of Montenegro carried out their schemes of aggrandizement. Pgul sized up the situation before Tresham could put his wits together. The kings still clustered at the entrance to the dining-room: the officer was still fumbling with his papers. He sprang from behind the curtain and seized the kaiser by the arm, dashed back with him into the diningroom and ran to a sliding panel behind the big fireplace, a remnant of the stirring days of the thirties, when the last Bourbon reigned on his uneasy throne and conspiracy was rife In Paris. He pushed It back, disclosing a narrow flight of stairs. At the head he hesitated. The woman journalist, who, all unsuspected by him, had also been present’ at the banquet!—if she escaped she would reveal the story as Lord Tresham had told it to her, and his efforts would beuseless.' He must make her a captive as well as his majesty. And as he turned he uttered an exclamation of surprise, for there stood she beside them, her eyes alight with eagerness,

and the great “story” of the year half written in her brain. Miss Nancy Shand was always on the spot when news was in the making. Motioning to both to precede him, Paul pulled back the sliding panel Into position just as the lieutenant, becoming aware of the flight of some members of the party, dashed into the dining-room—to„ sefe' only the furniture and the walls. Black darkness confronted them, but Paul had learned the way before that night. He urged his charges down the narrow stairs until they found themselves, at a turn of the path, in a large, dimly-lit dhamber of stone, with a stone door. Round this apartment were ranged enormous tuns", in which Monsieur Gabriel stored his choice Burgundy from the Midi. Paul closed the door behind him —it hatd no key. Then he turned on his guests. “You majesty,” he said, “I owe you a thousand apologies. But I can save you. There is only one way out of your dilemma, and not a dignified one. Still—” He walked toward the nearest wine tun and turned the spigot, and a rich crimson flood began to stain the stone of the floor. The next was

empty, and the next also. Drawing himself backward, he shot his fist with all his might. The blow shattered the head of the tun into two pieces. Another blow did likewise to tt\e second tun. Paul Lane removed the heads and returned, rubbing his Injured knuckles. * “Sir,” he said, “there Is but one thing to be done. You must conceal yourself awhile from your enemies.” “But the police!” the’kaiser shouted. “The soldiers! Can such an outrage be perpetrated in the heart of Paris?” “No, sir,” said Paul. "It would mean only a temporary detention. But every hour’s delay is likely to be fatal to your aims. Besides, there are Journalists attached to all police stations.” Add Miss Shand smiled. “If I were armed —’’ the kaiser Bhouted. “Your majesty, time Is very precious,” said Paul, and led the kaiser toward the tun. “If you will deign to place your royal foot In my hand,” he said. And a moment later the kaiser had crawled Inside. “Place your lips agalnkt the bunghole, to get the air,” said Paul, and fitted on the head. Fixed as it was, It could be dislodged only from the outside. He turned to the American girl. “Now, Miss Nancy,” he said. This was a proposition entirely new. “Yon want me —me—to go Inside that tan!" exclaimed Miss Shand indignantly, Paul nodded and approached her. ,• “I won’t!” Miss Nancy cried, stamping her foot "How dare you!—Oh! Monster!"

Paul calmly seized her round the waist and drew her toward the ton. She screamed. Overhead the trampling of feet was heard, voices came faintly to their ears. Then Lane quietly deposited Miss Shand inside the vacant tun adjoining royal Germany. He placed his lips to the bunghole. “I shall have to cork you up, madam,” he said, “since you persist in screaming. But don’t be alarmed. In five minutes you shall be free to breathe, through the bung-hole once more.” . He placed the cork in place as the soldiers ran down the stairs and came bursting into the room. “Here’s one of them, 1 ” shouted the officer, in charge. “Where are the rest of you? Why—it’s the waiter!” Indeed Paul Lane'looked the character to perfection at that moment as he flung himself at the officer's feet “Spare me—spare my life!” •he pleaded. "To the devil with your miserable life! Where is Bulglni, the leader of the dynamiters?” cried the officer. “I do not know, monsieur,” Paul whined. “They threatened me and I ran away through the secret panel.

Ah, he was terrible, that brigand Bulging his very mustaches seemed to bristle.” From somewhere, very far away, the very faintest knocking came, and the faintest of cries. Paul Lane seized the lieutenant by the arm. “They must be above, In the flooring,” he cried. “Ah, that loose plank that sqeaked. I will get them, monsieur, I will —” “Come on, men!” shouted the officer, and darted out of the cellar and up the stairs. Paul followed leisurely. Thus it came about that their majesties of Sweden, Norway, Greece and Roumania made their appearance in the central police station of Paris. And In a short while they were released with the most abject apologies. The secret wsb kept, for, by a miracle of luck, there were no reporters present. But when the news was telegraphed In several ciphers to the capitals of Europe that same night and no word came of the kaiser, It Is reported that Bethmann-Hollweg tore hls hair and drafted a dozen different letters of resignation. Meanwhile Servia and Montenegro dispatched an ultimatum to Constantinople to demand certain advantages, and there was none to rattle the war sword on behalf of Islam —for the Lord of the Sword was missing. And here Is the dilemma that confronted Paul as he strolled a free man, through the streets of Paris. He had accomplished his end; he had bottled up—literally, almost —the kaiser and that

babbling reporter. If be left them for four and twenty hours War would break out and his enterprise succeed. But then —the thought came to him with hideous meaning as he approached the door Of his residence — he had left the cork in the bung-hole of the barrel in which Miss Nancy lay! HC must release her. To uncork the barrel would mean that her screams would bring aid to her. He must free her—and so the kaiser, too. The fate of Europe rested with this obscure Yankee girl, buried inside a tun. It 4l has hung on more trivial things. . It was midnight when Paul got back to Gabriel’s, and the frightened proprietor stared at him as he entered, and throwing up his hands, vanished like an apoplectic angel into the recesses of his house. Paul entered the wine cellar, and, as he passed through the door, cried loudly in dismay. There was not a tun or barrel in the place. He saw a bare cellar, with bare, whitewashed walls and the marks of muddy shoes around the entrance —no more. He ran back at full speed and hammered upon the door of Monsieur Gabriel’s apartment on the first story. . “Open, open!” he shouted, “or I break It in. Open, Monsieur Gabriel! I shall no£ hurt you!” At last the bolt shot back and the proprietor appeared, livid', shaking with terror. He fell on his knees. He did not recognize the waiter in this peremptory visitor. “Ah, forgive me, forgive me,” he exclaimed, almost distraught. “I knew nothing of this! Oh, monsieur—!” He groveled upon the floor, incapable of further utterance. Paul raised him, not ungently. “Monsieur Gabriel, where are the tuns that were in your cellar?” he asked. “The tuns, monsieur? The tiins?” babbled the Frenchman. “Ah, yes, the tuns, of course, the tuns. Why, monsieur, this is the night which falls each quarter when the vans collect them for shipping back to the Bouth of France. Tomorrow my new tuns arrive. They were all empty, monsieur, even the last of them, for somebody had turned the spigot and spilled the wine—” “You ass,” said Paul; “when were they collected?” “Half an hour since, monsieur. I was distraught; I watched the men like a madman; I could say nothing. My beautiful wine, all spilled, and—" “Where have they gone?” “To the Southern station, monsieur. All tuns go thither, to be shipped back to the wine-growers , each quarter. Doubtless all Paris is yielding up tuns this night There is a special train, monsieur, which starts in the morning, and —” Paul thrust Monsieur Gabriel from him and rushed out into the street. He hailed a passing fiacre and ordered the man to drive to the terminal station of the Southern railway. Arrived there, he tossed the man a louis and rushed into the freight yard. There were thousands of tuns, piled up, rolled into heaps which every noW s> and then collapsed, like topheavy pyramids, and tumbled over other tuns, sending dozens of them skipping and rolling in every direction. And at each gate wagons and vans were discharging tuns and barrels of every sort and size. Paul stared in dismay at this fearful panorama. Among those thousands, which tun held Germany’s ruler and which the woman spy? He could never find either. He staggered like a drunken man around the yards. At the gates porters were joking and chatting with drivers as the hideous tuns were unloaded and sent crashing upon the tops of others. From their battered sides thin drops of wine stained the ground like, blood. Which one? Dear God, which one? Stay! There was a song. For had not His Majesty composed a famous song, the “Song to Aegir,” which had been satirized and ridiculed and admired throughout all Germany and Europe, too? Paul Lane began to hum that song. Presently, as he threaded his way among the maze of tuns, it occurred to him that the barrels from Gabriel’s having been collected only recently, would of necessity be on the out-' skirts nearest the gates. This thought gave him new hope. He picked his way thither and began singing again. And at last, just as he had abandoned hope, he heard the faintest answer. He stopped, hardly daring to hope. He sang loudly. Now he could distinguish the tuu from which the voice proceeded. He listened; it was the answer. It was the “Song to Aegir,” and sung under circumstances such as Its royal composer had never In his wildest dreams Imagined. Paul went toward that end of the barrel where he knew the Kaiser’s feet must be. He swung his arm back and his fist forward. An instant later he was helping Germany’s ruler out of his hiding place. And both gasped: “The woman!” The second barrel must lie near the first Paul half lifted and tested them. Light—light —light—ha! this one must hold allTthat was left of her. Again he swung his fist and the barrel head burst asunder. And out of it scrambled, very flushed and Indignant and hbpelessly in disarray. Miss Nancy Shand. “You are alive,” gasped Paul. “But how —how did you breathe? I thought I corked the bung-hole." “Idiot!” sobbed Miss Nancy, “didn't you ever hear of a hairpin?*' That Is how Germany got back her sovereign In time to stay the war. They say Prince Nicholas received his kingship in place of his princedom, for storing his hand. That Is disputed, but It is certain that Paul Lane possesses the Order of the Black Eagle.