Whether the lady went voluntarily or not I cannot say.  Yet it was, doubtless, the same with both Kings:  The one got an unwilling province; the other, an unwilling bride.  Only, Titia’s trouble was soonest over.

This ravished Murdol had always been a standing menace to the peace of the two countries; Titia had never forgiven its seizure, and Valeria was afflicted with the plague of disaffected subjects on its very border.  Here, as I have said, was the real casus belli,—­a constant irritation that had at length got past bearing.

But, in truth, the actual breach was due to a woman.  The Crown Prince of Titia had come a wooing of the Princess Royal of Valeria, and had been twice refused by her.  King Frederick had left the question entirely in her hands.  Her choice was her own, to marry or to decline.  As a matter of state policy the match was greatly desired by him and his Ministers.  They were becoming very weary of Murdol and the turmoil it maintained on the border, and the great force of troops required there to preserve order.  Then, too, Titia had grown vastly in wealth and population since old Henry’s time, and, now, was likely more than a match for its ancient enemy.  Frederick was aging and desired peace in his closing years.  He had long wished for a diplomatic way to rid himself of the troublesome province, and the marriage of Casimir and Dehra would afford it.  Murdol could be settled upon the Princess as her dower.

It was an admirable solution of the whole vexing question.  Yet, unlike old Henry, Frederick was the father before he was the King; and, beyond telling the Princess frankly the policy which moved him in the matter, he did nothing to coerce her.  But the Ministers had no scruples of affection nor of kinship to control them and they brought all sorts of persuasive pressure upon her to obtain her consent to the match.  All this was known to the Kingdom, and the vast majority of the people were with the Princess.  The Army was with her to a man.

The first proposal Dehra had declined promptly to the Prince in person.  He had made it lover-like, and not through the diplomatic channels.  After that the Titian Foreign Office took a hand, and the poor girl’s troubles began.

For six months the matter pended,—­and still Dehra held firm.  Then Titia mobilized its army and demanded a decision within two days:—­either the Princess or Murdol.  It got a “No” in two hours.  The declaration of war followed straight-way.

Most of these facts were already known to me.  Those of latest happening came to Courtney from the State Department on the eve of our sailing.

“It looks like a one-battle war,” he had observed.

“Add a letter to your sentence and you will be nearer right,” I answered.

He laughed.  “A none-battle war, you mean.”

And so it proved.  When we landed it was to find that Germany had offered to mediate, and that, while the two Kingdoms were thinking it over, a truce had been declared.  Consequently, instead of hurrying straight to the Valerian army, I journeyed leisurely with Courtney to the capital.  There the first news that met us was that Germany’s mediation had been accepted and that the war was at an end—­for the present, at least.