"You can give me all but love," Karyl repeated very softly, leaning
forward toward her, "and love is all there is! Without it I take all
else you give me as a thief takes, without right. If being a King means
being your jailer, then I am done with being a King!"
"Your Majesty," cut in Von Ritz sharply, "it is time to terminate this
talk. It has no end. It is aimless argument which comes only back to the
starting point."
The King wheeled and met the eyes of his adviser. The studied
self-control he had maintained since Cara's arrival slipped from him and
his voice broke out explosively.
"It has an end!" he cried. "I will show you the end. If I cannot build
empire I can do something else, I can throw this damnable little Kingdom
down into the chaos it deserves!... I can abdicate to my cousin, Louis
Delgado, who wants the throne I don't want!... I can stamp on this
tinseled trumpery.... I can break jail!" He turned with an impassioned
out-sweeping of his hands. Coming swiftly from behind the bench, he
halted tensely before Benton and leaned defiantly forward. "Then I can
free her--and by God I shall fight you for her on equal terms, inch by
inch, not holding her in duress, but fighting for her free consent. She
has been trapped by Fate into marrying me and at heart she rebels. I
shall set her free and then by God I will win her back!"
Von Ritz had stood by as the King rushed on in climax after climax of
heated words. Now he took one swift stride forward. From his quiet face
had fallen every trace of impassiveness. When he spoke his voice
trembled with the irresistible eloquence of power and fire.
"My God, boy!" He seized Karyl by his shoulders and wheeled him so that
they stood face to face. There was in his manner nothing of deference,
nothing of the subordinate. Now he stood transformed, the man of action;
the dominant, compelling force before whom littler men must wither. This
was no longer Von Ritz the emotionless. It was Von Ritz the King-maker,
burning with vitalizing passion.
"My God, boy, are you mad? Do you think other men have never loved and
sacrificed themselves for duty--kept unuttered, locked in their hearts,
things they were hungry to say?... Do you think that your hard task of
Kingship is yours to play with--to desert?... Why, boy, I've taught you
your manual of arms, I've drilled you, trained you, watched you grow
from childhood. My heart has beaten with joy because you were free of
every degenerate trace that has marked and scarred Europe's cancerous
Royalty! I've seen you come clean-hearted, straight-minded into
man-hood; prepared you to show the world what a Kingdom can be with a
clean King--a strong King! I've fitted you to bear a burden which only a
man could bear--to remind the world that 'King' means the Man Who
Can--and I thought you could do it!" He paused only to draw a long
breath, then hastened on again. "Yes, your task is thankless. Your
Principality is small, but it is a keystone in Europe's arch. It is such
Princelings as you who must send clean blood down to the thrones of
to-morrow.... Is that not enough?... Have I built a King, day by day,
year by year, idea by idea, only to see him wither and crumple under the
first blast? Go on with your task, in God's name! Probably they will
murder you ... assassination may at the end be your reward, but only the
coward fears the outcome! For God's sake, Karyl, don't desert me under
fire!"