This startling announcement threw the company into the greatest excitement. Baldos ran down the steps and to the side of the astonished princess.
"Prince Dantan!" she cried, unbelieving.
He pushed the boyish figure aside and whispered earnestly into Yetive's ear. She smiled warmly in response, and her eyes sparkled.
"And this, your highness, is his sister, the Princess Candace," he announced aloud, bowing low before the girl. At that instant she ceased to be the timid, cringing boy. Her chin went up in truly regal state as she calmly, even haughtily, responded to the dazed, half-earnest salutes of the men. With a rare smile—a knowing one in which mischief was paramount—she spoke to Baldos, giving him her hand to kiss.
"Ah, dear Baldos, you have achieved your sweetest triumph—the theatrical climax to all this time of plotting. My brother's sister loves you for all this. Your highness," and she turned to Yetive with a captivating smile, "is the luckless sister of Dantan welcome in your castle? May I rest here in peace? It has been a bitterly long year, this past week," she sighed. Fatigue shot back into her sweet face, and Yetive's love went out to her unreservedly. As she drew the slight figure up the steps she turned and said to her ministers:
"I shall be glad to receive Prince Dantan in the throne-room, without delay. I am going to put the princess to bed."
"Your highness," said Baldos from below, "may I be the first to announce to you that there will be no war with Dawsbergen?"
This was too much. Even Marlanx looked at his enemy with something like collapse in his eyes.
"What do you mean?" cried Lorry, seizing him by the arm.
"I mean that Prince Dantan is here to announce the recapture of Gabriel, his half-brother. Before the hour is past your own men from the dungeon in the mountains will come to report the return of the fugitive. This announcement may explain in a measure the conduct that has earned for me the accusation which confronts me. The men who have retaken Gabriel are the members of that little band you have heard so much about. Once I was its captain, Prince Dantan's chief of staff—the commander of his ragged army of twelve. Miss Calhoun and fate brought me into Edelweiss, but my loyalty to the object espoused by our glorious little army has never wavered. Without me they have succeeded in tricking and trapping Gabriel. It is more than the great army of Graustark could do. Your highness will pardon the boast under the circumstances?"
"If this Is true, you have accomplished a miracle," exclaimed Lorry, profoundly agitated. "But can it be true? I can't believe it. It is too good. It is too utterly improbable. Is that really Prince Dantan?"
"Assuming that it is Dantan, Grenfall," said Yetive, "I fancy it is not courteous in us to let him stand over there all alone and ignored. Go to him, please." With that she passed through the doors, accompanied by Beverly and the young princess. Lorry and others went to greet the emaciated visitor in rags and tags. Colonel Quinnox and Baron Dangloss looked at one another in doubt and uncertainty. What were they to do with Baldos, the prisoner?
"You are asking yourself what is to be done with me," said Baldos easily. "The order is for my arrest. Only the princess can annul it. She has retired on a mission of love and tenderness. I would not have her disturbed. There is nothing left for you to do but to place me in a cell. I am quite ready, Colonel Quinnox. You will be wise to put me in a place where I cannot hoodwink you further. You do not bear me a grudge?" He laughed so buoyantly, so fearlessly that Quinnox forgave him everything. Dangloss chuckled, an unheard-of condescension on his part. "We shall meet again, Count Marlanx. You were not far wrong in your accusations against me, but you have much to account for in another direction."
"This is all a clever trick," cried the Iron Count. "But you shall find me ready to accommodate you when the time comes."
At this juncture Lorry and Count Halfont came up with Ravone. Baldos would have knelt before his ruler had not the worn, sickly young man restrained him.
"Your hand, Captain Baldos," he said. "Most loyal of friends. You have won far more than the honor and love I can bestow upon you. They tell me you are a prisoner, a suspected traitor. It shall be my duty and joy to explain your motives and your actions. Have no fear. The hour will be short and the fruit much the sweeter for the bitterness."
"Thunder!" muttered Harry Anguish. "You don't intend to slap him into a cell, do you, Gren?" Baldos overheard the remark.
"I prefer that course, sir, until it has been clearly established that all I have said to you is the truth. Count Marlanx must be satisfied," said he.
"And, Baldos, is all well with her?" asked the one we have known as Ravone.
"She is being put to bed," said Baldos, with a laugh so jolly that Ravone's lean face was wreathed in a sympathetic smile. "I am ready, gentlemen." He marched gallantly away between the guards, followed by Dangloss and Colonel Quinnox.
Naturally the Graustark leaders were cautious, even skeptical. They awaited confirmation of the glorious news with varying emotions. The shock produced by the appearance of Prince Dantan in the person of the ascetic Ravone was almost stupefying. Even Beverly, who knew the vagabond better than all the others, had not dreamed of Ravone as the fugitive prince. Secretly she had hoped as long as she could that Baldos would prove, after all, to be no other than Dantan. This hope had dwindled to nothing, however, and she was quite prepared for the revelation. She now saw that he was just what he professed to be—a brave but humble friend of the young sovereign; and she was happy in the knowledge that she loved him for what he was and not for what he might have been.
"He is my truest friend," said Ravone, as they led Baldos away. "I am called Ravone, gentlemen, and I am content to be known by that name until better fortune gives me the right to use another. You can hardly expect a thing in rags to be called a prince. There is much to be accomplished, much to be forgiven, before there is a Prince Dantan of Dawsbergen again."
"You are faint and week," said Lorry, suddenly perceiving his plight. "The hospitality of the castle is yours. The promise we made a few days ago holds good. Her highness will be proud to receive you when you are ready to come to the throne-room. I am Grenfall Lorry. Come, sir; rest and refresh yourself in our gladdened home. An hour ago we were making ready to rush into battle; but your astonishing but welcome news is calculated to change every plan we have made."
"Undoubtedly, sir, it will. Dawsbergen hardly will make a fight to release Gabriel. He is safe in your dungeons. If they want him now, they must come to your strongholds. They will not do it, believe me," said Ravone simply. "Alas, I am faint and sore, as you suspect. May I lie down for an hour or two? In that time you will have heard from your wardens and my story will be substantiated. Then I shall be ready to accept your hospitality as it is proffered. Outside your city gates my humble followers lie starving. My only prayer is that you will send them cheer and succor."
No time was lost in sending to the gates for the strollers who had accomplished the marvel of the day. The news of Gabriel's capture was kept from the city's inhabitants until verification came from the proper sources, but those in control of the affairs of state were certain that Ravone's story was true. All operations came to a standstill. The movements of the army were checked. Everything lay quiescent under the shock of this startling climax.
"Hang it," growled Anguish, with a quizzical grin, as Ravone departed under the guidance of Count Halfont himself, "this knocks me galley-west. I'd like to have had a hand in it. It must have been great. How the devil do you think that miserable little gang of tramps pulled it off?"
"Harry," said Lorry disgustedly, "they taught us a trick or two."
While the young princess was being cared for by Yetive's own maids in one of the daintiest bedchambers of the castle, Beverly was engaged in writing a brief but pointed letter to her Aunt Josephine, who was still in St. Petersburg. She had persistently refused to visit Edelweiss, but had written many imperative letters commanding her niece to return to the Russian capital. Beverly now was recalling her scattered wits in the effort to appease her aunt and her father at the same time. Major Calhoun emphatically had ordered her to rejoin her aunt and start for America at once. Yesterday Beverly would have begun packing for the trip home. Now she was eager to remain in Graustark indefinitely. She was so thrilled by joy and excitement that she scarcely could hold the pen.
"Father says the United States papers are full of awful war scares from the Balkans. Are we a part of the Balkans, Yetive?" she asked of Yetive, with a puzzled frown, emphasizing the pronoun unconsciously. "He says I'm to come right off home. Says he'll not pay a nickel of ransom if the brigands catch me, as they did Miss Stone and that woman who had the baby. He says mother is worried half to death. I'm just going to cable him that it's all off. Because he says if war breaks out he's going to send my brother Dan over here to get me. I'm having Aunt Josephine send him this cablegram from St. Petersburg: 'They never fight in Balkans. Just scare each other. Skip headlines, father dear. Will be home soon. Beverly.' How does that sound? It will cost a lot, but he brought it upon his own head. And we're not in the Balkans, anyway. Aunt Joe will have a fit. Please call an A. D. T. boy, princess. I want to send this message to St. Petersburg."
When Candace entered the princess's boudoir half an hour later, she was far from being the timid youth who first came to the notice of the Graustark cabinet. She was now attired in one of Beverly's gowns, and it was most becoming to her. Her short curly brown hair was done up properly; her pink and white complexion was as clear as cream, now that the dust of the road was gone; her dark eyes were glowing with the wonder and interest of nineteen years, and she was, all in all, a most enticing bit of femininity.
"You are much more of a princess now than when I first saw you," smiled Yetive, drawing her down upon the cushions of the window-seat beside her. Candace was shy and diffident, despite her proper habiliments.
"But she was such a pretty boy," protested Dagmar. "You don't know how attractive you were in those—"
Candace blushed. "Oh, they were awful, but they were comfortable. One has to wear trousers if one intends to be a vagabond. I wore them for more than a week."
"You shall tell us all about it," said Yetive, holding the girl's hand in hers. "It must have been a most interesting week for you."
"Oh, there is not much to tell, your highness," said Candace, suddenly reticent and shy. "My step-brother—oh, how I hate him—had condemned me to die because he thought I was helping Dantan. And Iwashelping him, too,—all that I could. Old Bappo, master of the stables, who has loved me for a hundred years, he says, helped me to escape from the palace at night. They were to have seized me the next morning. Bappo has been master of the stables for more than forty years. Dear old Bappo! He procured the boy's clothing for me and his two sons accompanied me to the hills, where I soon found my brother and his men. We saw your scouts and talked to them a day or two after I became a member of the band. Bappo's boys are with the band now. But my brother Dantan shall tell you of that. I was so frightened I could not tell what was going am. I have lived in the open air for a week, but I love it. Dantan's friends are all heroes. You will love them. Yesterday old Franz brought a message into the castle grounds. It told Captain Baldos of the plan to seize Gabriel, who was in the hills near your city. Didn't you know of that? Oh, we knew it two days ago. Baldos knew it yesterday. He met us at four o'clock this morning;—that is part of us. I was sent on with Franz so that I should not see bloodshed if it came to the worst. We were near the city gates Baldos came straight to us. Isn't it funny that you never knew all these things? Then at daybreak Baldos insisted on bringing me here to await the news from the pass. It was safer, and besides, he said he had another object in coming back at once."
Beverly flushed warmly. The three women were crowding about the narrator, eagerly drinking in her naive story.
"We came in through one of the big gates and not through the underground passage. That was a fib," said Candace, looking from one to the other with a perfectly delicious twinkle in her eye. The conspirators gulped and smiled guiltily. "Baldos says there is a very mean old man here who is tormenting the fairy princess—not the real princess, you know. He came back to protect her, which was very brave of him, I am sure. Where is my brother?" she asked, suddenly anxious.
"He is with friends. Don't be alarmed, dear," said Yetive.
"He is changing clothes, too? He needs clothes worse than I needed these. Does he say positively that Gabriel has been captured?"
"Yes. Did you not know of it?"
"I was sure it would happen. You know I was not with them in the pass."
Yetive was reflecting, a soft smile in her eyes.
"I was thinking of the time when I wore men's clothes," she said. "Unlike yours, mine were most uncomfortable. It was when I aided Mr. Lorry in escaping from the tower. I wore a guard's uniform and rode miles with him in a dark carriage before he discovered the truth." She blushed at the remembrance of that trying hour.
"And I wore boy's clothes at a girl's party once—my brother Dan's," said Beverly. "The hostess's brothers came home unexpectedly and I had to sit behind a bookcase for an hour. I didn't see much fun in boy's clothes."
"You ought to wear them for a week," said Candace, wise in experience. "They are not so bad when you become accustomed to them—that is, if they're strong and not so tight that they—"
"You all love Baldos, don't you?" interrupted Yetive. It was with difficulty that the listeners suppressed their smiles.
"Better than anyone else. He is our idol. Oh, your highness, if what he says is true that old man must be a fiend. Baldos a spy! Why, he has not slept day or night for fear that we would not capture Gabriel so that he might be cleared of the charge without appealing to—to my brother. He has always been loyal to you," the girl said with eager eloquence.
"I know, dear, and I have known all along. He will be honorably acquitted. Count Marlanx was overzealous. He has not been wholly wrong, I must say in justice to him—"
"How can you uphold him, Yetive, after what he has said about me?" cried Beverly, with blazing eyes.
"Beverly, Beverly, you know I don't mean that. He has been a cowardly villain so far as you are concerned and he shall be punished, never fear. I cannot condone that one amazing piece of wickedness on his part."
"You, then, are the girl Baldos talks so much about?" cried Candace eagerly. "You are Miss Calhoun, the fairy princess? I am so glad to know you." The young princess clasped Beverly's hand and looked into her eyes with admiration and approval. Beverly could have crushed her in her arms.
The sounds of shouting came up to the windows from below. Outside, men were rushing to and fro and there were signs of mighty demonstrations at the gates.
"The people have heard of the capture," said Candace, as calmly as though she were asking one to have a cup of tea.
There was a pounding at the boudoir door. It flew open unceremoniously and in rushed Lorry, followed by Anguish. In the hallway beyond a group of noblemen conversed excitedly with the women of the castle.
"The report from the dungeons, Yetive," cried Lorry joyously. "The warden says that Gabriel is in his cell again! Here's to Prince Dantan!"
Ravone was standing in the door. Candace ran over and leaped into his arms.
Ravone was handsome in his borrowed clothes. He was now the clean, immaculate gentleman instead of the wretched vagabond of the hills. Even Beverly was surprised at the change in him. His erstwhile sad and melancholy face was flushed and bright with happiness. The kiss he bestowed upon the delighted Candace was tender in the extreme. Then, putting her aside he strode over and gallantly kissed the hand of Graustark's princess, beaming an ecstatic smile upon the merry Beverly an instant later.
"Welcome, Prince Dantan," said Yetive, "A thousand times welcome."
"All Graustark is your throne, most glorious Yetive. That is why I have asked to be presented here and not in the royal hall below," said Ravone.
"You will wait here with us, then, to hear the good news from our warden," said the princess. "Send the courier to me," she commanded. "Such sweet news should be received in the place which is dearest to me in all Graustark."
The ministers and the lords and ladies of the castle were assembled in the room when Baron Dangloss appeared with the courier from the prison. Count Marlanx was missing. He was on his way to the fortress, a crushed, furious, impotent old man. In his quarters he was to sit and wait for the blow that he knew could not be averted. In fear and despair, hiding his pain and his shame, he was racking his brain for means to lessen the force of that blow. He could withdraw the charges against Baldos, but he could not soften the words he had said and written of Beverly Calhoun. He was not troubling himself with fear because of the adventures in the chapel and passage. He knew too well how Yetive could punish when her heart was bitter against an evil-doer. Graustark honored and protected its women.
The warden of the dungeons from which Gabriel had escaped months before reported to the princess that the prisoner was again in custody. Briefly he related that a party of men led by Prince Dantan had appeared early that day bringing the fugitive prince, uninjured, but crazed by rage and disappointment. They had tricked him into following them through the hills, intent upon slaying his brother Dantan. There could be no mistake as to Gabriel's identity. In conclusion, the warden implored her highness to send troops up to guard the prison in the mountain-side. He feared an attack in force by Gabriel's army.
"Your highness," said Lorry, "I have sent instructions to Colonel Braze, requiring him to take a large force of men into the pass to guard the prison. Gabriel shall not escape again, though all Dawsbergen comes after him."
"You have but little to fear from Dawsbergen," said Ravone, who was seated near the princess. Candace at his side. "Messages have been brought to me from the leading nobles of Dawsbergen, assuring me that the populace is secretly eager for the old reign to be resumed. Only the desperate fear of Gabriel and a few of his bloody but loyal advisers holds them in check. Believe me, Dawsbergen's efforts to release Gabriel will be perfunctory and halfhearted in the extreme. He ruled like a madman. It was his intense, implacable desire to kill his brother that led to his undoing. Will it be strange, your highness, if Dawsbergen welcomes the return of Dantan in his stead?"
"The story! The story of his capture! Tell us the story," came eagerly from those assembled. Ravone leaned back languidly, his face tired and drawn once more, as if the mere recalling of the hardships past was hard to bear.
"First, your highness, may I advise you and your cabinet to send another ultimatum to the people of Dawsbergen?" he asked. "This time say to them that you hold two Dawsbergen princes in your hand. One cannot and will not be restored to them. The other will be released on demand. Let the embassy be directed to meet the Duke of Matz, the premier. He is now with the army, not far from your frontier. May it please your highness, I have myself taken the liberty of despatching three trusted followers with the news of Gabriel's capture. The two Bappos and Carl Vandos are now speeding to the frontier. Your embassy will find the Duke of Matz in possession of all the facts."
"The Duke of Matz, I am reliably informed, some day is to be father-in-law to Dawsbergen," smilingly said Yetive. "I shall not wonder if he responds most favorably to an ultimatum."
Ravone and Candace exchanged glances of amusement, the latter breaking into a deplorable little gurgle of laughter.
"I beg to inform you that the duke's daughter has disdained the offer from the crown," said Ravone. "She has married Lieutenant Alsanol, of the royal artillery, and is as happy as a butterfly. Captain Baldos could have told you how the wayward young woman defied her father and laughed at the beggar prince."
"Captain Baldos is an exceedingly discreet person," Beverly volunteered. "He has told no tales out of school."
"I am reminded of the fact that you gave your purse into my keeping one memorable day—the day when we parted from our best of friends at Ganlook's gates. I thought you were a princess, and you did not know that I understood English. That was a sore hour for us. Baldos was our life, the heart of our enterprise. Gabriel hates him as he hates his own brother. Steadfastly has Baldos refused to join us in the plot to seize Prince Gabriel. He once took an oath to kill him on sight, and I was so opposed to this that he had to be left out of the final adventures."
"Please tell us how you succeeded in capturing that—your half-brother," cried Beverly, forgetting that it was another's place to make the request. The audience drew near, eagerly attentive.
"At another time I shall rejoice in telling the story in detail. For the present let me ask you to be satisfied with the statement that we tricked him by means of letters into the insane hope that he could capture and slay his half-brother. Captain Baldos suggested the plan. Had he been arrested yesterday, I feel that it would have failed. Gabriel was and is insane. We led him a chase through the Graustark hills until the time was ripe for the final act. His small band of followers fled at our sudden attack, and he was taken almost without a struggle, not ten miles from the city of Edelweiss. In his mad ravings we learned that his chief desire was to kill his brother and sister and after that to carry out the plan that has long been in his mind. He was coming to Edelweiss for the sole purpose of entering the castle by the underground passage, with murder in his heart. Gabriel was coming to kill the Princess Yetive and Mr. Lorry. He has never forgotten the love he bore for the princess, nor the hatred he owes his rival. It was the duty of Captain Baldos to see that he did not enter the passage in the event that he eluded us in the hills."
Later in the day the Princess Yetive received from the gaunt, hawkish old man in the fortress a signed statement, withdrawing his charges against Baldos the guard. Marlanx did not ask for leniency; it was not in him to plead. If the humble withdrawal of charges against Baldos could mitigate the punishment he knew Yetive would impose, all well and good. If it went for naught, he was prepared for the worst. Down there in his quarters, with wine before him, he sat and waited for the end. He knew that there was but one fate for the man, great or small, who attacked a woman in Graustark. His only hope was that the princess might make an exception in the case of one who had been the head of the army—but the hope was too small to cherish.
Baldos walked forth a free man, the plaudits of the people in his ears. Baron Dangloss and Colonel Quinnox were beside the tall guard as he came forward to receive the commendations and apologies of Graustark's ruler and the warm promises of reward from the man he served.
He knelt before the two rulers who were holding court on the veranda. The cheers of nobles, the shouts of soldiery, the exclamations of the ladies did not turn his confident head. He was the born knight. The look of triumph that he bestowed upon Beverly Calhoun, who lounged gracefully beside the stone balustrade, brought the red flying to her cheeks. He took something from his breast and held it gallantly to his lips, before all the assembled courtiers. Beverly knew that it was a faded rose!
The next morning a royal messenger came to Count Marlanx. He bore two sealed letters from the princess. One briefly informed him that General Braze was his successor as commander-in-chief of the army of Graustark. He hesitated long before opening the other. It was equally brief and to the point. The Iron Count's teeth came together with a savage snap as he read the signature of the princess at the end. There was no recourse. She had struck for Beverly Calhoun. He looked at his watch. It was eleven o'clock. The edict gave him twenty-four hours from the noon of that day. The gray old libertine despatched a messenger for his man of affairs, a lawyer of high standing in Edelweiss. Together they consulted until midnight. Shortly after daybreak the morning following. Count Marlanx was in the train for Vienna, never to set foot on Graustark's soil again. He was banished and his estates confiscated by the government.
The ministry in Edelweiss was not slow to reopen negotiations with Dawsbergen. A proclamation was sent to the prime minister, setting forth the new order of affairs and suggesting the instant suspension of hostile preparations and the restoration of Prince Dantan. Accompanying this proclamation went a dignified message from Dantan, informing his people that he awaited their commands. He was ready to resume the throne that had been so desecrated. It would be his joy to restore Dawsbergen to its once peaceful and prosperous condition. In the meantime the Duke of Mizrox despatched the news to the Princess Volga of Axphain, who was forced to abandon—temporarily, at least—her desperate designs upon Graustark. The capture of Gabriel put an end to her transparent plans.
"But she is bound to break out against us sooner or later and on the slightest provocation," said Yetive.
"I daresay that a friendly alliance between Graustark and Dawsbergen will prove sufficient to check any ambitions she may have along that line," said Ravone significantly. "They are very near to each other now, your highness. Friends should stand together."
Beverly Calhoun was in suspense. Baldos had been sent off to the frontier by Prince Dantan, carrying the message which could be trusted to no other. He accompanied the Graustark ambassadors of peace as Dantan's special agent. He went in the night time and Beverly did not see him. The week which followed his departure was the longest she ever spent. She was troubled in her heart for fear that he might not return, despite the declaration she had made to him in one hysterical moment. It was difficult for her to keep up the show of cheerfulness that was expected of her. Reticence became her strongest characteristic. She persistently refused to be drawn into a discussion of her relations with the absent one. Yetive was piqued by her manner at first, but wisely saw through the mask as time went on. She and Prince Dantan had many quiet and interesting chats concerning Beverly and the erstwhile guard. The prince took Lorry and the princess into his confidence. He told them all there was to tell about his dashing friend and companion.
Beverly and the young Princess Candace became fast and loving friends. The young girl's worship of her brother was beautiful to behold. She huddled close to him on every occasion, and her dark eyes bespoke adoration whenever his name was mentioned in her presence.
"If he doesn't come back pretty soon, I'll pack up and start for home," Beverly said to herself resentfully one day. "Then if he wants to see me he'll have to come all the way to Washington. And I'm not sure that he can do it, either. He's too disgustingly poor."
"Wha's became o' dat Misteh Baldos, Miss Bev'ly?" asked Aunt Fanny in the midst of these sorry cogitations. "Has he tuck hit int' his haid to desert us fo' good? Seems to me he'd oughteh—"
"Now, that will do, Aunt Fanny," reprimanded her mistress sternly. "You are not supposed to know anything about affairs of state. So don't ask."
At last she no longer could curb her impatience and anxiety. She deliberately sought information from Prince Dantan. They were strolling in the park on the seventh day of her inquisition.
"Have you heard from Paul Baldos?" she asked, bravely plunging into deep water.
"He is expected here tomorrow or the next day, Miss Calhoun. I am almost as eager to see him as you are," he replied, with a very pointed smile.
"Almost? Well, yes, I'll confess that I am eager to see him. I never knew I could long for anyone as much as I—Oh, well, there's no use hiding it from you. I couldn't if I tried. I care very much for him. You don't think it sounds silly for me to say such a thing, do you? I've thought a great deal of him ever since the night at the Inn of the Hawk and Raven. In my imagination I have tried to strip you of your princely robes to place them upon him. But he is only Baldos, in spite of it all. He knows that I care for him, and I know that he cares for me. Perhaps he has told you."
"Yes, he has confessed that he loves you, Miss Calhoun, and he laments the fact that his love seems hopeless. Paul wonders in his heart if it would be right in him to ask you to give up all you have of wealth and pleasure to share a humble lot with him."
"I love him. Isn't that enough? There is no wealth so great as that. But," and she pursed her mouth in pathetic despair, "don't you think that you can make a noble or something of him and give him a station in life worthy of his ambitions? He has done so much for you, you know."
"I have nothing that I can give to him, he says. Paul Baldos asks only that he may be my champion until these negotiations are ended. Then he desires to be free to serve whom he will. All that I can do is to let him have his way. He is a freelance and he asks no favors, no help."
"Well, I think he's perfectly ridiculous about it, don't you? And yet, that is the very thing I like in him. I am only wondering how we—I mean, how he is going to live, that's all."
"If I am correctly informed he still has several months to serve in the service for which he enlisted. You alone, I believe, have the power to discharge him before his term expires," said he meaningly.
That night Baldos returned to Edelweiss, ahead of the Graustark delegation which was coming the next day with representatives from Dawsbergen. He brought the most glorious news from the frontier. The Duke of Matz and the leading dignitaries had heard of Gabriel's capture, both through the Bappo boys and through a few of his henchmen who had staggered into camp after the disaster. The news threw the Dawsbergen diplomats into a deplorable state of uncertainty. Even the men high in authority, while not especially depressed over the fall of their sovereign, were in doubt as to what would be the next move in their series of tragedies. Almost to a man they regretted the folly which had drawn them into the net with Gabriel. Baldos reported that the Duke of Matz and a dozen of the most distinguished men in Dawsbergen were on their way to Edelweiss to complete arrangements for peace and to lay their renunciation of Gabriel before Dantan in a neutral court. The people of Dawsbergen had been clamoring long for Dantan's restoration, and Baldos was commissioned to say that his return would be the signal for great rejoicing. He was closeted until after midnight with Dantan and his sister. Lorry and Princess Yetive being called in at the end to hear and approve of the manifesto prepared by the Prince of Dawsbergen. The next morning the word went forth that a great banquet was to be given in the castle that night for Prince Dantan and the approaching noblemen. The prince expected to depart almost immediately thereafter to resume the throne in Serros.
Baldos was wandering through the park early in the morning. His duties rested lightly upon his shoulders, but he was restless and dissatisfied. The longing in his heart urged him to turn his eyes ever and anon toward the balcony and then to the obstinate-looking castle doors. The uniform of a Graustark guard still graced his splendid figure. At last a graceful form was seen coming from the castle toward the cedars. She walked bravely, but aimlessly. That was plain to be seen. It was evident that she was and was not looking for someone. Baldos observed with a thrill of delight that a certain red feather stood up defiantly from the band of her sailor hat. He liked the way her dark-blue walking-skirt swished in harmony with her lithe, firm strides.
She was quite near before he advanced from his place among the trees. He did not expect her to exhibit surprise or confusion and he was not disappointed. She was as cool as a brisk spring morning. He did not offer his hand, but, with a fine smile of contentment, bowed low and with mock servility.
"I report for duty, your highness," he said. She caught the ring of gladness in his voice.
"Then I command you to shake hands with me," she said brightly. "You have been away, I believe?" with a delicious inflection.
"Yes, for a century or more, I'm sure." Constraint fell upon them suddenly. The hour had come for a definite understanding and both were conquered by its importance. For the first time in his life he knew the meaning of diffidence. It came over him as he looked helplessly into the clear, gray, earnest eyes. "I love you for wearing that red feather," he said simply.
"And I loved you for wearing it," she answered, her voice soft and thrilling. He caught his breath joyously.
"Beverly," as he bent over her, "you are my very life, my—"
"Don't, Paul!" she whispered, drawing away with an embarrassed glance about the park. There were people to be seen on all sides. But he had forgotten them. He thought only of the girl who ruled his heart. Seeing the pain in his face, she hastily, even blushingly, said: "It is so public, dear."
He straightened himself with soldierly precision, but his voice trembled as he tried to speak calmly in defiance to his eyes. "There is the grotto—see! It is seclusion itself. Will you come with me? I must tell you all that is in my heart. It will burst if I do not."
Slowly they made their way to the fairy grotto deep in the thicket of trees. It was Yetive's favorite dreaming place. Dark and cool and musical with the rippling of waters, it was an ideal retreat. She dropped upon the rustic bench that stood against the moss-covered wall of boulders. With the gentle reserve of a man who reveres as well as loves, Baldos stood above her. He waited and she understood. How unlike most impatient lovers he was!
"You may sit beside me," she said with a wistful smile of acknowledgment. As he flung himself into the seat, his hand eagerly sought hers, his courtly reserve gone to the winds.
"Beverly, dearest one, you never can know how much I love you," he whispered into her ear. "It is a deathless love, unconquerable, unalterable. It is in my blood to love forever. Listen to me, dear one: I come of a race whose love is hot and enduring. My people from time immemorial have loved as no other people have loved. They have killed and slaughtered for the sake of the glorious passion. Love is the religion of my people. You must, you shall believe me when I say that I will love you better than my soul so long as that soul exists. I loved you the day I met you. It has been worship since that time."
His passion carried her resistlessly away as the great waves sweep the deck of a ship at sea. She was out in the ocean of love, far from all else that was dear to her, far from all harbors save the mysterious one to which his passion was piloting her through a storm of emotion.
"I have longed so to hold you in my arms, Beverly—even when you were a princess and I lay in the hospital at Ganlook, my fevered arms hungered for you. There never has been a moment that my heart has not been reaching out in search of yours. You have glorified me, dearest, by the promise you made a week ago. I know that you will not renounce that precious pledge. It is in your eyes now—the eyes I shall worship to the end of eternity. Tell me, though, with your own lips, your own voice, that you will be my wife, mine to hold forever."
For answer she placed her arms about his neck and buried her face against his shoulder. There were tears in her gray eyes and there was a sob in her throat. He held her close to his breast for an eternity, it seemed to both, neither giving voice to the song their hearts were singing. There was no other world than the fairy grotto.
"Sweetheart, I am asking you to make a great sacrifice," he said at last, his voice hoarse but tender. She looked up into his face serenely. "Can you give up the joys, the wealth, the comforts of that home across the sea to share a lowly cottage with me and my love? Wait, dear,—do not speak until I am through. You must think of what your friends will say. The love and life I offer you now will not be like that which you always have known. It will be poverty and the dregs, not riches and wine. It will be—"
But she placed her hand upon his lips, shaking her head emphatically. The picture he was painting was the same one that she had studied for days and days. Its every shadow was familiar to her, its every unwholesome corner was as plain as day.
"The rest of the world may think what it likes, Paul," she said. "It will make no difference to me. I have awakened from my dream. My dream prince is gone, and I find that it's the real man that I love. What would you have me do? Give you up because you are poor? Or would you have me go up the ladder of fame and prosperity with you, a humble but adoring burden? I know you, dear. You will not always be poor. They may say what they like. I have thought long and well, because I am not a fool. It is the American girl who marries the titled foreigner without love that is a fool. Marrying a poor man is too serious a business to be handled by fools. I have written to my father, telling him that I am going to marry you," she announced. He gasped with unbelief.
"You have—already?" he cried.
"Of course. My mind has been made up for more than a week. I told it to Aunt Fanny last night."
"And she?"
"She almost died, that's all," said she unblushingly. "I was afraid to cable the news to father. He might stop me if he knew it in time. A letter was much smarter."
"You dear, dear little sacrifice," he cried tenderly. "I will give all my life to make you happy."
"I am a soldier's daughter, and I can be a soldier's wife. I have tried hard to give you up, Paul, but I couldn't. You are love's soldier, dear, and it is a—a relief to surrender and have it over with."
They fell to discussing plans for the future. It all went smoothly and airily until he asked her when he should go to Washington to claim her as his wife. She gave him a startled, puzzled look.
"To Washington?" she murmured, turning very cold and weak. "You—you won't have to go to Washington, dear; I'll stay here."
"My dear Beverly, I can afford the trip," he laughed. "I am not an absolute pauper. Besides, it is right and just that your father should give you to me. It is the custom of our land." She was nervous and uncertain.
"But—but, Paul, there are many things to think of," she faltered.
"You mean that your father would not consent?"
"Well,—he—he might be unreasonable," she stammered. "And then there are my brothers, Keith and Dan. They are foolishly interested in me. Dan thinks no one is good enough for me. So does Keith. And father, too, for that matter,—and mother. You see, it's not just as if you were a grand and wealthy nobleman. They may not understand. We are southerners, you know. Some of them have peculiar ideas about—"
"Don't distress yourself so much, dearest," he said with a laugh. "Though I see your position clearly—and it is not an enviable one."
"We can go to Washington just as soon as we are married," she compromised. "Father has a great deal of influence over there. With his help behind you you will soon be a power in the United—" but his hearty laugh checked her eager plotting. "It's nothing to laugh at, Paul," she said.
"I beg your pardon a thousand times. I was thinking of the disappointment I must give you now. I cannot live in the United States—never. My home is here. I am not born for the strife of your land. They have soldiers enough and better than I. It is in the turbulent east that we shall live—you and I." Tears came into her eyes.
"Am I not to—to go back to Washin'ton?" She tried to smile.
"When Prince Dantan says we may, perhaps."
"Oh, he is my friend," she cried in great relief. "I can get any favor I ask of him. Oh, Paul, Paul, I know that my folks will think I'm an awful fool, but I can't help it. I shall let you know that I intend to be a blissful one, at least."
He kissed her time and again, out there in the dark, soft light of the fairy grotto.
"Before we can be married, dearest, I have a journey of some importance to take," he announced, as they arose to leave the bower behind.
"A journey? Where?"
"To Vienna. I have an account to settle with a man who has just taken up his residence there." His hand went to his sword-hilt and his dark eyes gleamed with the fire she loved. "Count Marlanx and I have postponed business to attend to, dearest. Have no fear for me. My sword is honest and I shall bring it back to you myself."
She shuddered and knew that it would be as he said.