She shrank back with a great dread in her heart. Marlanx, of all men! Why was he in the park at this hour of the night? There could be but one answer, and the very thought of it almost suffocated her. He was drawing the net with his own hands, he was spying with his own eyes. For a full minute it seemed to her that her heart would stop beating. How long had he been standing there? What had he seen or heard? Involuntarily she peered over the rail for a glimpse of Baldos. He had gone out into the darkness, missing the men at the lamp-post either by choice or through pure good fortune. A throb of thankfulness assailed her heart. She was not thinking of her position, but of his.
Again she drew stealthily away from the rail, possessed of a ridiculous feeling that her form was as plain to the vision as if it were broad daylight. The tread of a man impelled her to glance below once more before fleeing to her room. Marlanx was coming toward the verandah. She fled swiftly, pausing at the window to lower the friendly but forgotten umbrella. From below came the sibilant hiss of a man seeking to attract her attention. Once more she stopped to listen. The "hist" was repeated, and then her own name was called softly but imperatively. It was beyond the power of woman to keep from laughing. It struck her as irresistibly funny that the Iron Count should be standing out there in the rain, signaling to her like a love-sick boy. Once she was inside, however, it did not seem so amusing. Still, it gave her an immense amount of satisfaction to slam the windows loudly, as if in pure defiance. Then she closed the blinds, shutting out the night completely.
Turning up the light at her dressing-table, she sat down in a state of sudden collapse. For a long time she stared at her face in the mirror. She saw the red of shame and embarrassment mount to her cheeks and then she covered her eyes with her hands.
"Oh, what a fool you've been," she half sobbed, shrinking from the mirror as if it were an accuser.
She prepared for bed with frantic haste. Just as she was about to scramble in and hide her face in the pillows, a shocking thought came to her. The next she was at the windows and the slats were closed with a rattle like a volley of firearms. Then she jumped into bed. She wondered if the windows were locked. Out she sprang again like a flash, and her little bare feet scurried across the room, first to the windows and then to the door.
"Now, I reckon I'm safe," she murmured a moment later, again getting into bed. "I love to go to sleep with the rain pattering outside like that. Oh, dear, I'm so sorry he has to walk all night In this rain. Poor fellow! I wonder where he is now. Goodness, it's raining cats and dogs!"
But in spite of the rain she could not go to sleep. Vague fears began to take possession of her. Something dreadful told her that Count Marlanx was on the balcony and at her window, notwithstanding the rain pour. The fear became oppressive, maddening. She felt the man's presence almost as strongly as if he were in plain view. He was there, she knew it.
The little revolver that had served her so valiantly at the Inn of the Hawk and Raven lay upon a stool near the bedside every night. Consumed by the fear that the window might open slowly at any moment, she reached forth and clutched the weapon. Then she shrank back in the bed, her eyes fixed upon the black space across the room. For hours she shivered and waited for the window to open, dozing away time and again only to come back to wakefulness with a start.
The next morning she confessed to herself that her fears had been silly. Her first act after breakfasting alone in her room was to seek out Colonel Quinnox, commander of the castle guard. In her mind she was greatly troubled over the fate of the bold visitor of the night before. There was a warm, red glow in her face and a quick beat in her heart as she crossed the parade-ground. Vagabond though he was, he had conquered where princes had failed. Her better judgment told her that she could be nothing to this debonair knight of the road, yet her heart stubbornly resisted all the arguments that her reason put forth.
Colonel Quinnox was pleasant, but he could give Beverly no promise of leniency in regard to Baldos. Instructions had come to him from General Marlanx, and he could not set them aside at will. Her plea that he might once more be assigned to old-time duties found the colonel regretfully obdurate. Baldos could not ride with her again until Marlanx withdrew the order which now obtained, Beverly swallowed her pride and resentment diplomatically, smiled her sweetest upon the distressed colonel, and marched defiantly back to the castle. Down in her rebellious, insulted heart she was concocting all sorts of plans for revenge. Chief among them was the terrible overthrow of the Iron Count. Her wide scope of vengeance even contemplated the destruction of Graustark if her end could be obtained in no other way.
Full of these bitter-sweet thoughts she came to the castle doors before she saw who was waiting for her upon the great verandah. As she mounted the steps, a preoccupied frown upon her fair brow, General Marlanx, lean, crafty and confident, advanced to greet her. The early hour was responsible for the bright solitude which marked the place. But few signs of life were in evidence about the castle.
She stopped with a sharp exclamation of surprise. Then scorn and indignation rushed in to fill the place of astonishment. She faced the smiling old man with anger in her eyes.
"Good morning," he said, extending his hand, which she did not see. She was wondering how much he had seen and heard at midnight.
"I thought the troops were massing this morning," she said coldly. "Don't you mass, too?"
"There is time enough for that, my dear. I came to have a talk with you—in private," he said meaningly.
"It is sufficiently private here, Count Marlanx. What have you to say to me?"
"I want to talk about last night. You were very reckless to do what you did."
"Oh, youwereplaying the spy, then?" she asked scornfully.
"An involuntary observer, believe me—and a jealous one. I had hoped to win the affections of an innocent girl. What I saw last night shocked me beyond expression."
"Well, you shouldn't have looked," she retorted, tossing her chin; and the red feather in her hat bobbed angrily.
"I am surprised that one as clever as you are could have carried on an amour so incautiously," he said blandly.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I saw everything that occurred."
"Well, I'm not ashamed of it," obstinately. "Good-bye, Count Marlanx."
"One moment, please. I cannot let you off so easily. What right had you to take that man into your room, a place sacred in the palace of Graustark? Answer me, Miss Calhoun."
Beverly drew back in horror and bewilderment.
"Into my room?" she gasped.
"Let us waste no time in subterfuge. I saw him come from your window, and I saw all that passed between you in the balcony. Love's eyes are keen. What occurred in your chamber I can only—"
"Stop! How dare you say such a thing to me?" she fiercely cried. "You miserable coward! You know he was not in my room. Take it back—take back every word of that lie!" She was white with passion, cold with terror.
"Bah! This is childish. I am not the only one whosawhim, my dear. He was in your room—you were in his arms. It's useless to deny it. And to think that I have spared him from death to have it come to this! You need not look so horrified. Your secret is safe with me. I come to make terms with you. My silence in exchange for your beauty. It's worth it to you. One word from me, you are disgraced and Baldos dies. Come, my fair lady, give me your promise, it's a good bargain for both."
Beverly was trembling like a leaf. This phase of his villainy had not occurred to her. She was like a bird trying to avoid the charmed eye of the serpent.
"Oh, you—you miserable wretch!" she cried, hoarse with anger and despair. "What a cur you are! You know you are not speaking the truth. How can you say such things to me? I have never wronged you—" She was almost in tears, impotent with shame and fear.
"It has been a pretty game of love for you and the excellent Baldos. You have deceived those who love you best and trust you most. What will the princess say when she hears of last night's merry escapade? What will she say when she learns who was hostess to a common guardsman at the midnight hour? It is no wonder that you look terrified. It is for you to say whether she is to know or not. You can bind me to silence. You have lost Baldos. Take me and all that I can give you in his stead, and the world never shall know the truth. You love him, I know, and there is but one way to save him. Say the word and he goes free to the hills; decline and his life is not worth a breath of air."
"And pretending to believe this of me, you still ask me to be your wife. What kind of a man are you?" she demanded, scarcely able to speak.
"My wife?" he said harshly. "Oh, no. You are not the wife of Baldos," he added significantly.
"Good God!" gasped Beverly, crushed by the brutality of it all. "I would sooner die. Would to heaven my father were here, he would shoot you as he would a dog! Oh, how I loathe you! Don't you try to stop me! I shall go to the princess myself. She shall know what manner of beast you are."
She was racing up the steps, flaming with anger and shame.
"Remember, I can prove what I have said. Beware what you do. I love you so much that I now ask you to become my wife. Think well over it. Your honor and his life! It rests with you," he cried eagerly, following her to the door.
"You disgusting old fool," she hissed, turning upon him as she pulled the big brass knocker on the door.
"I must have my answer to-night, or you know what will happen," he snarled, but he felt in his heart that he had lost through his eagerness.
She flew to Yetive's boudoir, consumed by rage and mortification. Between sobs and feminine maledictions she poured the whole story, in all its ugliness, into the ears of the princess.
"Now, Yetive, you have to stand by me in this," announced the narrator conclusively, her eyes beaming hopefully through her tears.
"I cannot prevent General Marlanx from preferring serious charges against Baldos, dear. I know he was not in your room last night. You did not have to tell me that, because I saw you both at the balcony rail." Beverly's face took on such a radiant look of rejoicing that Yetive was amply paid for the surprising and gratifying acknowledgment of a second period of eavesdropping. "You may depend upon me to protect you from Marlanx. He can make it very unpleasant for Baldos, but he shall pay dearly for this insult to you. He has gone too far."
"I don't think he has any proof against Baldos," said Beverly, thinking only of the guardsman.
"But it is so easy to manufacture evidence, my dear. The Iron Count has set his heart upon having you, and he is not the man to be turned aside easily."
"He seems to think he can get wives as easily as he gets rid of them, I observe. I was going back to Washington soon, Yetive, but I'll stay on now and see this thing to the end. He can't scare a Calhoun, no sir-ee. I'll telegraph for my brother Dan to come over here and punch his head to pieces."
"Now, now,—don't be so high and mighty, dear. Let us see how rational we can be," said the Princess gently. Whereupon the hot-headed girl from Dixie suspended hostilities and became a very demure young woman. Before long she was confessing timidly, then boldly, that she loved Baldos better than anything in all the world.
"I can't help it, Yetive. I know I oughtn't to, but what is there to do when one can't help it? There would be an awful row at home if I married him. Of course, he hasn't asked me. Maybe he won't. In fact, I'm sure he won't. I shan't give him a chance. But if he does ask me I'll just keep putting him off. I've done it before, you know. You see, for a long, long time, I fancied he might be a prince, but he isn't at all. I've had his word for it. He's just an ordinary person—like—like—well, like I am. Only he doesn't look so ordinary. Isn't he handsome, Yetive? And, dear me, he is so impulsive! If he had asked me to jump over the balcony rail with him last night, I believe I would have done it. Wouldn't that have surprised old Marlanx?" Beverly gave a merry laugh. The troubles of the morning seemed to fade away under the warmth of her humor. Yetive sat back and marvelled at the manner in which this blithe young American cast out the "blue devils."
"You must not do anything foolish, Beverly," she cautioned, "Your parents would never forgive me if I allowed you to marry or even to fall in love with any Tom, Dick or Harry over here. Baldos may be the gallant, honest gentleman we believe him to be, but he also may be the worst of adventurers. One can never tell, dear. I wish now that I had not humored you in your plan to bring him to the castle. I'm afraid I have done wrong. You have seen too much of him and—oh, well, youwillbe sensible, won't you, dear?" There was real concern in the face of the princess. Beverly kissed her rapturously.
"Don't worry about me, Yetive. I know how to take care of myself. Worry about your old Gabriel, if you like, but don't bother your head about me," she cried airily. "Now let's talk about the war. Marlanx won't do anything until he hears from me. What's the use worrying?"
Nightfall brought General Marlanx in from the camps outside the gates. He came direct to the castle and boldly sent word to Beverly that he must speak to her at once. She promptly answered that she did not want to see him and would not. Without a moment's hesitation he appealed for an audience with the princess, and it was granted.
He proceeded, with irate coolness, to ask how far she believed herself bound to protect the person of Baldos, the guard. He understood that she was under certain obligations to Miss Calhoun and he wanted to be perfectly sure of his position before taking a step which now seemed imperative. Baldos was a spy in the employ of Dawsbergen. He had sufficient proof to warrant his arrest and execution; there were documents, and there was positive knowledge that he had conferred with strangers from time to time, even within the walls of the castle grounds. Marlanx cited instances in which Baldos had been seen talking to a strange old man inside the grounds, and professed to have proof that he had gone so far as to steal away by night to meet men beyond the city walls. He was now ready to seize the guard, but would not do so until he had conferred with his sovereign.
"Miss Calhoun tells me that you have made certain proposals to her, Count Marlanx," said Yetive coldly, her eyes upon his hawkish face.
"I have asked her to be my wife, your highness."
"You have threatened her, Count Marlanx."
"She has exposed herself to you? I would not have told what I saw last night."
"Would it interest you to know that I saw everything that passed on the balcony last night? You will allow me to say, general, that you have behaved in a most outrageous manner in approaching my guest with such foul proposals. Stop, sir! She has told me everything and I believe her. I believe my own eyes. There is no need to discuss the matter further. You have lost the right to be called a man. For the present I have only to say that you shall be relieved of the command of my army. The man who makes war on women is not fit to serve one. As for Baldos, you are at liberty to prefer the charges. He shall have a fair trial, rest assured."
"Your highness, hear me," implored Marlanx, white to the roots of his hair.
"I will hear what you have to say when my husband is at my side."
"I can but stand condemned, then, your highness, without a hearing. My vindication will come, however. With your permission, I retire to contrive the arrest of this spy. You may depose me, but you cannot ask me to neglect my duty to Graustark. I have tried to save him for Miss Calhoun's sake—" But her hand was pointing to the door.
Ten minutes later Beverly was hearing everything from the lips of the princess, and Marlanx was cursing his way toward the barracks, vengeance in his heart. But a swift messenger from the castle reached the guard-room ahead of him. Colonel Quinnox was reading an official note from the princess when Marlanx strode angrily into the room.
"Bring this fellow Baldos to me, Colonel Quinnox," he said, without greeting.
"I regret to say that I have but this instant received a message from her highness, commanding me to send him to the castle," said Quinnox, with a smile.
"The devil! What foolishness is this?" snarled the Iron Count.
"Have a care, sir," said Quinnox stiffly. "It is of the princess you speak."
"Bah! I am here to order the man's arrest. It is more important than—"
"Nevertheless, sir, he goes to the castle first. This note says that I am to disregard any command you may give until further notice."
Marlanx fell back amazed and stunned. At this juncture Baldos entered the room. Quinnox handed him an envelope, telling him that it was from the princess and that he was to repair at once to the castle, Baldos glanced at the handwriting, and his face lit up proudly.
"I am ready to go, sir," he said, passing the Iron Count with a most disconcerting smile on his face.
Baldos started off at once for the castle, his heart singing. In the darkness of the night he kissed the message which had come to him from "her highness." The envelope had been closed with the official seal of Yetive, Princess of Graustark, and was sacred to the eyes of anyone save the man to whom it was directed. The words it contained were burned deep in his brain:
"You are ordered to report for duty in the castle. Come at once. Herhighness has sent an official command to Colonel Quinnox. CountMarlanx has been here. You are not expected to desert until you haveseen me. There is an underground passage somewhere.—B."
Baldos went alone and swiftly. The note to Colonel Quinnox had been imperative. He was to serve as an inner guard until further orders. Someone, it was reported, had tried to enter Miss Calhoun's room from the outside during the rainstorm of the previous night, and a special guard was to be stationed near the door. All of this was unknown to Baldos, but he did not ask for any explanations.
He was half way to the castle when the sharp report of a gun startled him. A bullet whizzed close to his ear! Baldos broke into a crouching run, but did not change his course. He knew that the shot was intended for him, and that its mission was to prevent him from reaching the castle. The attendants at the castle door admitted him, panting and excited, and he was taken immediately to the enchanted boudoir of the princess which but few men were fortunate enough to enter. There were three women in the room.
"I am here to report, your highness," said he, bowing low before the real princess, with a smile upon his flushed face.
"You are prompt," said the princess "What have you to report, sir?"
"That an attempt has just been made to kill a member of the castle guard," he coolly answered.
"Impossible!"
"I am quite certain of it, your highness. The bullet almost clipped my ear."
"Good heavens!" gasped the listeners. Then they eagerly plied him with more agitated questions than he could answer.
"And did you not pursue the wretch?" cried the princess.
"No, your highness. I was commanded to report to you at once. Only the success of the assassin could have made me—well, hesitate," said he calmly. "A soldier has but to obey."
"Do you think there was a deliberate attempt to kill you?" asked the Countess Dagmar. Beverly Calhoun was dumb with consternation.
"I cannot say, madame. Possibly it was an accidental discharge. One should not make accusations unsupported. If you have no immediate need of my services, your highness, I will ask you to grant me leave of absence for half an hour. I have a peculiar longing to investigate." There was a determined gleam in his eyes.
"No? no!" cried Beverly. "Don't you dare to go out there again. You are to stay right here in the castle, sir. We have something else for you to do. It was that awful old Marlanx who shot at you. He—"
"I left General Marlanx in Colonel Quinnox's quarters, Miss Calhoun," interposed Baldos grimly. "He could not have fired the shot. For two or three nights, your highness, I have been followed and dogged with humiliating persistence by two men wearing the uniforms of castle guards. They do not sleep at the barracks. May I ask what I have done to be submitted to such treatment?" There was a trace of poorly concealed indignation in his voice.
"I assure you that this is news to me," said Yetive in amazement.
"I am being watched as if I were a common thief," he went on boldly. "These men are not your agents; they are not the agents of Graustark. May I be permitted to say that they are spies set upon me by a man who has an object in disgracing me? Who that man is, I leave to your royal conjecture."
"Marlanx?"
"Yes, your highness. He bears me a deadly grudge and yet he fears me. I know full well that he and his agents have built a strong case against me. They are almost ready to close in upon me, and they will have false evidence so craftily prepared that even my truest friends may doubt my loyalty to you and to the cause I serve. Before God, I have been true to my oath. I am loyal to Graustark. It was a sorry day when I left the valley and—"
"Oh!" cried Beverly piteously. "Don't say that."
"Alas, Miss Calhoun, it is true," said he sadly, "I am penned up here where I cannot fight back. Treason is laid against me. But, beyond all this, I have permitted my loyalty to mislead my ambition. I have aspired to something I can cherish but never possess. Better that I never should have tasted of the unattainable than to have the cup withdrawn just as its sweetness begins to intoxicate."
He stood before them, pale with suppressed emotion. The women of Graustark looked involuntarily at Beverly, who sat cold and voiceless, staring at the face of the guard. She knew what he meant; she knew that something was expected of her. A word from her and he would understand that he had not tasted of the unattainable. In one brief moment she saw that she had deliberately led him on, that she had encouraged him, that she actually had proffered him the cup from which he had begun to sip the bitterness. Pride and love were waging a conflict in this hapless southern girl's heart. But she was silent. She could not say the word.
"I think I know what you mean, Baldos," said Yetive, seeing that Beverly would not intervene. "We are sorry. No one trusts to your honor more than I do. My husband believes in you. I will confess that you are to be arrested as a spy to-morrow. To-night you are to serve as a guard in the castle. This should prove to you that I have unbounded faith in you. Moreover, I believe in you to the extent that I should not be afraid to trust you if you were to go out into the world with every secret which we possess. You came here under a peculiar stress of circumstances, not wholly of your own volition. Believe me, I am your friend."
"I shall revere your highness forever for those words," said he simply. His eyes went hungrily to Beverly's averted face, and then assumed a careless gleam which indicated that he had resigned himself to the inevitable.
"I am constrained to ask you one question, sir," went on the princess. "You are not the common goat-hunter you assume. Will you tell me in confidence who you really are?" The others held their breath. He hesitated for a moment.
"Will it suffice if I say that I am an unfortunate friend and advocate of Prince Dantan? I have risked everything for his sake and I fear I have lost everything. I have failed to be of service to him, but through no fault of mine. Fate has been against me."
"You are Christobal," cried Dagmar eagerly. He gave her a startled glance, but offered no denial. Beverly's face was a study. If he were Christobal, then what of the game-warden's daughter?
"We shall question you no further," said Yetive. "You enlisted to serve Miss Calhoun. It is for her to command you while you are here. May God be with you to the end. Miss Calhoun, will you tell him what his duties are for to-night? Come, my dear."
Yetive and Dagmar walked slowly from the room, leaving Beverly and her guard alone.
"I am at your service, Miss Calhoun," he said easily. His apparent indifference stung her into womanly revolt.
"I was a fool last night," she said abruptly.
"No; I was the fool. I have been the fool from the beginning. You shall not blame yourself, for I do not blame you. It has been a sweet comedy, a summer pastime. Forget what I may have said to you last night, forget what my eyes may have said for weeks and weeks."
"I shall never forget," said she. "You deserve the best in the world. Would that I could give it to you. You have braved many dangers for my sake. I shall not forget. Do you know that we were watched last night?"
"Watched?" he cried incredulously. "Oh, fool that I am! I might have known. And I have subjected you to—to—don't tell me that harsh things have been said to you, Miss Calhoun!" He was deeply disturbed.
"General Marlanx saw you. He has threatened me, Baldos,—"
"I will kill him! What do I care for the consequences? He shall pay dearly for—"
"Stop! Where are you going? You are to remain here, sir, and take your commands from me. I don't want you to kill him. They'd hang you or something just as bad. He's going to be punished, never fear!" Baldos smiled in spite of his dismay. It was impossible to face this confident young champion in petticoats without catching her enthusiasm. "What have you done with—with that rose?" she asked suddenly, flushing and diffident. Her eyes glistened with embarrassment.
"It lies next my heart. I love it," he said bravely.
"I think I'll command you to return it to me," vaguely.
"A command to be disobeyed. It is in exchange for my feather," he smiled confidently.
"Well, of course, if you are going to be mean about—Now, let me see," she said confusedly; "what are your duties for to-night? You are to stand guard in the corridor. Once in awhile you will go out upon the balcony and take a look. You see, I am afraid of someone. Oh, Baldos, what's the use of my trifling like this? You are to escape from Edelweiss to-night. That is the whole plan—the whole idea in a nutshell. Don't look like that. Don't you want to go?" Now she was trembling with excitement.
"I do not want to leave you," he cried eagerly. "It would be cowardly. Marlanx would understand that you gave aid and sanction. You would be left to face the charges he would make. Don't you see, Beverly? You would be implicated—you would be accused. Why did you not let me kill him? No; I will not go!" Neither noticed the name by which he had called her.
"But I insist," she cried weakly. "You must go away from me. I—I command you to—"
"Is it because you want to drive me out of your life forever?" he demanded, sudden understanding coming to him.
"Don't put it that way," she murmured.
"Is it because you care for me that you want me to go?" he insisted, drawing near. "Is it because you fear the love I bear for you?"
"Love? You don't really—Stop! Remember where you are, sir! You must not go on with it, Baldos. Don't come a step nearer. Do go to-night! It is for the best. I have been awfully wicked in letting it run on as it has. Forgive me, please forgive me," she pleaded. He drew back, pale and hurt. A great dignity settled upon his face. His dark eyes crushed her with their quiet scorn.
"I understand, Miss Calhoun. The play is over. You will find the luckless vagabond a gentleman, after all. You ask me to desert the cause I serve. That is enough. I shall go to-night."
The girl was near to surrender. Had it not been for the persistent fear that her proud old father might suffer from her wilfulness, she would have thrown down the barrier and risked everything in the choice. Her heart was crying out hungrily for the love of this tall, mysterious soldier of fortune.
"It is best," she murmured finally. Later on she was to know the meaning of the peculiar smile he gave her.
"I go because you dismiss me, not because I fear an enemy. If you choose to remember me at all, be just enough to believe that I am not a shameless coward."
"You are brave and true and good, and I am a miserable, deceitful wretch," she lamented. "You will seek Ravone and the others?"
"Yes. They are my friends. They love my poverty. And now, may it please your highness, when am I to go forth and in what garb? I should no longer wear the honest uniform of a Graustark guard."
"Leave it to me. Everything shall be arranged. You will be discreet? No one is to know that I am your—"
"Rest assured, Miss Calhoun. I have a close mouth," and he smiled contemptuously.
"I agree with you," said she regretfully. "You know how to hold your tongue." He laughed harshly. "For once in a way, will you answer a question?"
"I will not promise."
"You say that you are Dantan's friend. Is it true that he is to marry the daughter of the Duke of Matz, Countess Iolanda?"
"It has been so reported."
"Is she beautiful?"
"Yes; exceedingly."
"But is he to marry her?" she insisted, she knew not why.
"How should I know, your highness?"
"If you call me 'your highness' again I'll despise you," she flared miserably. "Another question. Is it true that the young Duke Christobal fled because his father objected to his marriage with a game-warden's daughter?"
"I have never heard so," with a touch of hauteur.
"Does he know that the girl is dead?" she asked cruelly. Baldos did not answer for a long time. He stared at her steadily, his eyes expressing no emotion from which she could judge him.
"I think he is ignorant of that calamity, Miss Calhoun," he said. "With your permission, I shall withdraw. There is nothing to be gained by delay." It was such a palpable affront that she shrank within herself and could have cried.
Without answering, she walked unsteadily to the window and looked out into the night. A mist came into her eyes. For many minutes she remained there, striving to regain control of her emotions. All this time she knew that he was standing just where she had left him, like a statue, awaiting her command. At last she faced him resolutely.
"You will receive instructions as to your duties here from the guard at the stairs. When you hear the hall clock strike the hour of two in the morning go into the chapel, but do not let anyone see you or suspect. You know where it is. The door will be unlocked."
"Am I not to see you again?" he asked, and she did not think him properly depressed.
"Yes," she answered, after a pause that seemed like an eternity, and he went quietly, silently away.
While Baldos was standing guard in the long, lofty hallway the Iron Count was busy with the machinations which were calculated to result in a startling upheaval with the break of a new day. He prepared and swore to the charges preferred against Baldos. They were despatched to the princess for her perusal in the morning. Then he set about preparing the vilest accusations against Beverly Calhoun. In his own handwriting and over his own signature he charged her with complicity in the betrayal of Graustark, influenced by the desires of the lover who masqueraded as her protege. At some length he dwelt upon the well-laid plot of the spy and his accomplice. He told of their secret meetings, their outrages against the dignity of the court, and their unmistakable animosity toward Graustark. For each and every count in his vicious indictment against the girl he professed to have absolute proof by means of more than one reputable witness.
It was not the design of Marlanx to present this document to the princess and her cabinet. He knew full well that it would meet the fate it deserved. It was intended for the eyes of Beverly Calhoun alone. By means of the vile accusations, false though they were, he hoped to terrorize her into submission. He longed to possess this lithe, beautiful creature from over the sea. In all his life he had not hungered for anything as he now craved Beverly Calhoun. He saw that his position in the army was rendered insecure by the events of the last day. A bold, vicious stroke was his only means for securing the prize he longed for more than he longed for honor and fame.
Restless and enraged, consumed by jealousy and fear, he hung about the castle grounds long after he had drawn the diabolical charges. He knew that Baldos was inside the castle, favored, while he, a noble of the realm, was relegated to ignominy and the promise of degradation. Encamped outside the city walls the army lay without a leader. Each hour saw the numbers augmented by the arrival of reserves from the districts of the principality. His place was out there with the staff. Yet he could not drag himself away from the charmed circle in which his prey was sleeping. Morose and grim, he anxiously paced to and fro in an obscure corner of the grounds.
"What keeps the scoundrel?" he said to himself angrily.
Presently, a villainous looking man dressed in the uniform of the guards, stealthily approached. "I missed him, general, but I will get him the next time." growled the man.
"Curse you for a fool!" hissed Marlanx through his teeth. As another hireling came up. "What have you got to say?"
The man reported that Baldos had been seen on the balcony alone, evidently on watch.
Marlanx ground his teeth and his blood stormed his reason. "The job must be done to-night. You have your instructions. Capture him if possible; but if necessary, kill him. You know your fate, if you fail." Marlanx actually grinned at the thought of the punishment he would mete out to them. "Now be off!"
Rashly he made his way to the castle front. A bright moon cast its mellow glow over the mass of stone outlined against the western sky. For an hour he glowered in the shade of the trees, giving but slight heed to the guards who passed from time to time. His eyes never left the enchanted balcony.
At last he saw the man. Baldos came from the floor at the end of the balcony, paced the full length in the moonlight, paused for a moment near Beverly Calhoun's window and then disappeared through the same door that had afforded him egress.
Inside the dark castle the clock at the end of the hall melodiously boomed the hour of two. Dead quiet followed the soft echoes of the gong. A tall figure stealthily opened the door to Yetive's chapel and stepped inside. There was a streak of moonlight through the clear window at the far end of the room. Baldos, his heart beating rapidly, stood still for a moment, awaiting the next move in the game. The ghost-like figure of a woman suddenly stood before him in the path of the moonbeam, a hooded figure in dark robes. He started as if confronted by the supernatural.
"Come," came in an agitated whisper, and he stepped to the side of the phantom. She turned and the moonlight fell upon the face of Beverly Calhoun, "Don't speak. Follow me as quickly as you can."
He grasped her arm, bringing her to a standstill.
"I have changed my mind," he whispered in her ear. "Do you think I will run away and leave you to shoulder the blame for all this? On the balcony near your window an hour ago I—"
"It doesn't make any difference," she argued. "You have to go. I want you to go. If you knew just how I feel toward you you would go without a murmur."
"You mean that you hate me," he groaned.
"I wouldn't be so unkind as to say that," she fluttered. "I don't know who you are. Come; we can't delay a minute. I have a key to the gate at the other end of the passage and I know where the secret panel is located. Hush! It doesn't matter where I got the key. See! See how easy it is?"
He felt her tense little fingers in the darkness searching for his. Their hands were icy cold when the clasp came. Together they stood in a niche of the wall near the chancel rail. It was dark and a cold draft of air blew across their faces. He could not see, but there was proof enough that she had opened the secret panel in the wall, and that the damp, chill air came from the underground passage, which led to a point outside the city walls.
"You go first," she whispered nervously. "I'm afraid. There is a lantern on the steps and I have some matches. We'll light it as soon as—Oh, what was that?"
"Don't be frightened," he said. "I think it was a rat."
"Good gracious!" she gasped. "I wouldn't go in there for the world."
"Do you mean to say that you intended to do so?" he asked eagerly.
"Certainly. Someone has to return the key to the outer gate. Oh, I suppose I'll have to go in. You'll keep them off, won't you?" plaintively. He was smiling in the darkness, thinking what a dear, whimsical thing she was.
"With my life," he said softly.
"They're ten times worse than lions," she announced.
"You must not forget that you return alone," he said triumphantly.
"But I'll have the lantern going full blast," she said, and then allowed him to lead her into the narrow passageway. She closed the panel and then felt about with her foot until it located the lantern. In a minute they had a light. "Now, don't be afraid," she said encouragingly. He laughed in pure delight; she misunderstood his mirth and was conscious of a new and an almost unendurable pang. He was filled with exhilaration over the prospect of escape! Somehow she felt an impulse to throw her arms about him and drag him back into the chapel, in spite of the ghost of the game-warden's daughter.
"What is to prevent me from taking you with me?" he said intensely, a mighty longing in his breast. She laughed but drew back uneasily.
"And live unhappily ever afterward?" said she. "Oh, dear me! Isn't this a funny proceeding? Just think of me, Beverly Calhoun, being mixed up in schemes and plots and intrigues and all that. It seems like a great big dream. And that reminds me: you will find a raincoat at the foot of the steps. I couldn't get other clothes for you, so you'll have to wear the uniform. There's a stiff hat of Mr. Lorry's also. You've no idea how difficult it is for a girl to collect clothes for a man. There doesn't seem to be any real excuse for it, you know. Goodness, it looks black ahead there, doesn't it? I hate underground things. They're so damp and all that. How far is it, do you suppose, to the door in the wall?" She was chattering on, simply to keep up her courage and to make her fairest show of composure.
"It's a little more than three hundred yards," he replied. They were advancing through the low, narrow stone-lined passage. She steadfastly ignored the hand he held back for support. It was not a pleasant place, this underground way to the outside world. The walls were damp and mouldy; the odor of the rank earth assailed the nostrils; the air was chill and deathlike.
"How do you know?" she demanded quickly.
"I have traversed the passage before. Miss Calhoun," he replied. She stopped like one paralyzed, her eyes wide and incredulous. "Franz was my guide from the outer gate into the chapel. It is easy enough to get outside the walls, but extremely difficult to return," he went on easily.
"You mean to say that you have been in and out by way of this passage? Then, what was your object, sir?" she demanded sternly.
"My desire to communicate with friends who could not enter the city. Will it interest you if I say that the particular object of my concern was a young woman?"
She gasped and was stubbornly silent for a long time. Bitter resentment filled her soul, bitter disappointment in this young man. "A young woman!" he had said, oh, so insolently. There could be but one inference, one conclusion. The realization of it settled one point in her mind forever.
"It wouldn't interest me in the least. I don't even care who she was. Permit me to wish you much joy with her. Why don't you go on?" irritably, forgetting that it was she who delayed progress. His smile was invisible in the blackness above the lantern. There were no words spoken until after they had reached the little door in the wall.
Here the passage was wider. There were casks and chests on the floor, evidently containing articles that required instant removal from Edelweiss in case of an emergency.
"Who was that woman?" she asked at last. The key to the door was in the nervous little hand.
"One very near and dear to me. Miss Calhoun. That's all I can say at this time."
"Well, this is the only time you will have the chance," she cried loftily. "Here we part. Hush!" she whispered, involuntarily grasping his arm. "I think I heard a step. Can anyone be following us?" They stopped and listened. It was as still as a tomb.
"It must be the same old rat," he answered jokingly. She was too nervous for any pleasantries, and releasing her hold on his arm, said timidly, a "Good-bye!"
"Am I to go in this manner? Have you no kind word for me? I love you better than my soul. It is of small consequence to you, I know, but I crave one forgiving word. It may be the last." He clasped her hand and she did not withdraw it. Her lips were trembling, but her eyes were brave and obstinate. Suddenly she sat down upon one of the chests. If he had not told her of the other woman!
"Forgive me instead, for all that I have brought you to," she murmured. "It was all my fault. I shall never forget you or forgive myself. I—I am going back to Washin'ton immediately. I can't bear to stay here now. Good-bye, and God bless you. Do—do you think we shall ever see each other again?" Unconsciously she was clinging to his hand. There were tears in the gray eyes that looked pathetically up into his. She was very dear and enchanting, down there in the grewsome passageway with the fitful rays of the lantern lighting her face. Only the strictest self-control kept him from seizing her in his arms, for something told him that she would have surrendered.
"This is the end, I fear," he said, with grim persistence. She caught her breath in half a sob. Then she arose resolutely, although her knees trembled shamelessly.
"Well, then, good-bye," she said very steadily. "You are free to go where and to whom you like. Think of me once in awhile, Baldos. Here's the key. Hurry! I—I can't stand it much longer!" She was ready to break down and he saw it, but he made no sign.
Turning the key in the rusty lock, he cautiously opened the door. The moonlit world lay beyond. A warm, intoxicating breath of fresh air came in upon them. He suddenly stooped and kissed her hand.
"Forgive me for having annoyed you with my poor love," he said, as he stood in the door, looking into the night beyond.
"All—all right," she choked out as she started to close the door after him.
"Halt! You are our prisoner!"
The words rang out sharply in the silence of the night. Instinctively, Beverly made an attempt to close the door; but she was too late. Two burly, villainous looking men, sword in hand, blocked the exit and advanced upon them.
"Back! Back!" Baldos shouted to Beverly, drawing his sword.
Like a flash, she picked up the lantern and sprang out of his way. Capture or worse seemed certain; but her heart did not fail her.
"Put up your sword! You are under arrest!" came from the foremost of the two. He had heard enough of Baldos's skill with the sword to hope that the ruse might be successful and that he would surrender peaceably to numbers. The men's instructions were to take their quarry alive if possible. The reward for the man, living, exceeded that for him dead.
Baldos instantly recognized them as spies employed by Marlanx. They had been dogging his footsteps for days and even had tried to murder him, The desire for vengeance was working like madness in his blood. He was overjoyed at having them at the point of his sword. Beverly's presence vouchsafed that he would show little mercy.
"Arrest me, you cowardly curs!" he exclaimed. "Never!" With a spring to one side, he quickly overturned one of the casks and pushing it in front of him, it served as a rolling bulwark, preventing a joint attack.
"You first!" he cried coolly, as his sword met that of the leader. The unhappy wretch was no match for the finest swordsman in Graustark. He made a few desperate attempts to ward off his inevitable fate, calling loudly for his comrade to aid him. The latter was eager enough, but Baldos's strategic roll of the cask effectively prevented him from taking a hand. With a vicious thrust, the blade of the goat-hunter tore clean through the man's chest and touched the wall behind.
"One!" cried Baldos, gloating in the chance that had come to him. The man gasped and fell. He was none too quick in withdrawing his dripping weapon, for the second man was over the obstacle and upon him.