"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.



CHAPTER XXIII

A SHOT IN THE DARKNESS

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. Her highness has sent an official command to Colonel Quinnox. Count Marlanx has been here. You are not expected to desert until you have seen 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.



CHAPTER XXIV

BENEATH THE GROUND

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.



CHAPTER XXV

THE VALOR OF THE SOUTH

"Hold the lantern higher, Bev—" In the fury of the fight, he remembered the risk and importance of not mentioning her name, and stopped short. He was fighting fast but warily, for he realized that his present adversary was no mean one. As the swords played back and forth in fierce thrusts and parries, he spoke assuringly to Beverly: "Don't be frightened! As soon as I finish with this fellow, we will go on! Ah! Bravo! Well parried, my man! How the deuce could such a swordsman as you become a cutthroat of Marlanx?"

Beverly had been standing still all this time holding the light high above her head, according to her lover's orders, for she knew now that such he was and that she loved him with all her heart. She was a weird picture standing there as she watched Baldos fighting for their lives, her beautiful face deathlike in its pallor. Not a cry escaped her lips, as the sword-blades swished and clashed; she could hear the deep breathing of the combatants in that tomb-like passage.

Suddenly she started and listened keenly. From behind her, back there in the darkness, hurried footsteps were unmistakably approaching. What she had heard, then, was not the scurrying of a rat. Some one was following them. A terrible anguish seized her. Louder and nearer came the heavy steps. "Oh, my God! Baldos!" she screamed in terror, "Another is coming!"

"Have no fear, dear one!" he sung out gaily. His voice was infinitely more cheerful than he felt, for he realized only too well the desperate situation; he was penned in and forced to meet an attack from front and rear. He fell upon his assailant with redoubled fury, aiming to finish him before the newcomer could give aid.

From out of the gloom came a fiendish laugh. Instantly, the dark figure of a man appeared, his face completely hidden by a broad slouch hat and the long cloak which enveloped him. A sardonic voice hissed, "Trapped at last! My lady and her lover thought to escape, did they!" The voice was unfamiliar, but the atmosphere seemed charged with Marlanx. "Kill him, Zem!" he shouted. "Don't let him escape you! I will take care of the little witch, never fear!" He clutched at the girl and tried to draw her to him.

"Marlanx! By all the gods!" cried Baldos in despair. He had wounded his man several times, though not seriously. He dared not turn to Beverly's aid.

The scene was thrilling, grewsome. Within this narrow, dimly-lighted underground passage, with its musty walls sweating with dampness and thick with the tangled meshes of the spider's web, a brave girt and her lover struggled and fought back to back.

To her dismay, Beverly saw the point of a sword at her throat.

"Out of the way, girl," the man in the cloak snarled, furious at her resistance. "You die as well as your lover unless you surrender. He cannot escape me."

"And if I refuse," cried the girl, trying desperately to gain time.

"I will drive my blade through your heart and tell the world it was the deed of your lover."

Baldos groaned. His adversary, encouraged by the change in the situation, pressed him sorely.

"Don't you dare to touch me, Count Marlanx. I know you!" she hissed." I know what you would do with me. It is not for Graustark that you seek his life."

The sword came nearer. The words died in her throat. She grew faint. Terror paralyzed her. Suddenly, her heart gave a great thump of joy. The resourcefulness of the trapped was surging to her relief. The valor of the South leaped into life. The exhilaration of conflict beat down all her fears. "Take away that sword, then, please," she cried, her voice trembling, but not with terror now; it was exultation." Will you promise to spare his life? Will you swear to let him go, if I—"

"No, no, never! God forbid!" implored Baldos.

"Ha, ha!" chuckled the man in the cloak. "Spare his life! Oh, yes; after my master has revelled in your charms. How do you like that, my handsome goathunter?"

"You infernal scoundrel! I'll settle you yet!" Baldos fairly fumed with rage. Gathering himself together for a final effort, he rushed madly on his rapidly-weakening antagonist.

"Baldos!" she cried hopelessly and in a tone of resignation. "I must do it! It is the only way!"

The man in the cloak as well as Baldos was deceived by the girl's cry. He immediately lowered his sword. The lantern dropped from Beverly's hands and clattered to the floor. At the same instant she drew from her pocket her revolver, which she had placed there before leaving the castle, and fired point blank at him. The report sounded like a thunder clap in their ears. It was followed quickly by a sharp cry and imprecation from the lips of her persecutor, who fell, striking his head with a terrible force on the stones.

Simultaneously, there was a groan and the noise of a limp body slipping to the ground, and, Baldos, victor at last, turned in fear and trembling to find Beverly standing unhurt staring at the black mass at her feet.

"Thank God! You are safe!" Grasping her hand he led her out of the darkness into the moonlight.

Not a word was spoken as they ran swiftly on until they reached a little clump of trees, not far from one of the gates. Here Baldos gently released her hand. She was panting for breath; but he realized she must not be allowed to risk a moment's delay. She must pass the sentry at once.

"Have you the watchword?" he eagerly asked.

"Watchword?" she repeated feebly.

"Yes, the countersign for the night. It is Ganlook. Keep your face well covered with your hood. Advance boldly to the gates and give the word. There will be no trouble. The guard is used to pleasure seekers returning at all hours of night."

"Is he dead?" she asked timorously, returning to the scene of horror.

"Only wounded, I think, as are the other men, though they all deserve death."

He went with her as close to the gate as he thought safe. Taking her hand he kissed it fervently. "Good-bye! It won't be for long!" and disappeared.

She stood still and lifeless, staring after him, for ages, it seemed. He was gone. Gone forever, no doubt. Her eyes grew wilder and wilder with the pity of it all. Pride fled incontinently. She longed to call him back. Then it occurred to her that he was hurrying off to that other woman. No, he said he would return. She must be brave, true to herself, whatever happened. She marched boldly up to the gate, gave the countersign and passed through, not heeding the curious glances cast upon her by the sentry; turned into the castle, up the grand staircase, and fled to the princess's bed-chamber.

Beverly, trembling and sobbing, threw herself in the arms of the princess. Incoherently, she related all that had happened, then swooned.

After she had been restored, the promise of Yetive to protect her, whatever happened, comforted her somewhat.

"It must have been Marlanx," moaned Beverly.

"Who else could it have been?" replied the princess, who was visibly excited.

Summoning all her courage, she went on: "First, we must find out if he is badly hurt. We'll trust to luck. Cheer up!" She touched a bell. There came a knock at the door. A guard was told to enter. "Ellos," she exclaimed, "did you hear a shot fired a short time ago?"

"I thought I did, your highness, but was not sure."

"Baldos, the guard, was escaping by the secret passage," continued the princess, a wonderful inspiration coming to her rescue. "He passed through the chapel. Miss Calhoun was there. Alone, and single-handed, she tried to prevent him. It was her duty. He refused to obey her command to stop and she followed him into the tunnel and fired at him. I'm afraid you are too late to capture him, but you may—, Oh, Beverly, how plucky you were to follow him! Go quickly, Ellos! Search the tunnel and report at once." As the guard saluted, with wonder, admiration and unbelief, he saw the two conspirators locked in each other's arms.

Presently he returned and reported that the guards could find no trace of anyone in the tunnel, but that they found blood on the floor near the exit and that the door was wide open.

The two girls looked at each other in amazement. They were dumbfounded, but a great relief was glowing in their eyes.

"Ellos," inquired the princess, considerably less agitated, "does any one else know of this?"

"No, your highness, there was no one on guard but Max, Baldos, and myself,"

"Well, for the present, no one else must know of his flight. Do you understand? Not a word to any one. I, myself, will explain when the proper time comes. You and Max have been very careless, but I suppose you should not be punished. He has tricked us all. Send Max to me at once."

"Yes, your highness," said Ellos, and he went away with his head swimming. Max, the other guard, received like orders and then the two young women sank limply upon a divan.

"Oh, how clever you are, Yetive," came from the American girl. "But what next?"

"We may expect to hear something disagreeable from Count Marlanx, my dear," murmured the perplexed, but confident princess, "but I think we have the game in our own hands, as you would say in America."



CHAPTER XXVI

THE DEGRADATION OF MARLANX

"Aunt Fanny, what is that white thing sticking under the window?" demanded Beverly late the next morning. She was sitting with her face to the windows while the old negress dressed her hair.

"Looks lak a love letteh. Miss Bev'ly," was the answer, as Aunt Fanny gingerly placed an envelope in her mistress's hand. Beverly looked at it in amazement. It was unmistakably a letter, addressed to her, which had been left at her window some time in the night. Her heart gave a thump and she went red with anticipated pleasure. With eager fingers she tore open the envelope. The first glance at the contents brought disappointment to her face. The missive was from Count Marlanx; but it was a relief to find that he was very much alive and kicking. As she read on, there came a look of perplexity which was succeeded by burning indignation. The man in the cloak was preparing to strike.

"Your secret is mine. I know all that happened in the chapel and underground passage. You have betrayed Graustark in aiding this man to escape. The plot was cleverly executed, but you counted without the jealous eye of love. You can save yourself and your honor, and perhaps your princess, but the conditions are mine. This time there can be no trifling. I want you to treat me fairly. God help you if you refuse. Give me the answer I want and your secret is safe, I will shield you with my life. At eleven o'clock I shall come to see you. I have in my possession a document that will influence you. You will do well to keep a close mouth until you have seen this paper."

This alarming note was all that was needed to restore fire to the lagging blood of the American girl. Its effect was decidedly contrary to that which Marlanx must have anticipated. Instead of collapsing, Beverly sprang to her feet with energy and life in every fiber. Her eyes were flashing brightly, her body quivering with the sensations of battle.

"That awful old wretch!" she cried, to Aunt Fanny's amazement. "He is the meanest human being in all the world. But he's making the mistake of his life, isn't he, Aunt Fanny? Oh, of course you don't know what it is, so never mind. We've got a surprise for him. I'll see him at eleven o'clock, and then—" she smiled quite benignly at the thought of what she was going to say to him. Beverly felt very secure in the shadow of the princess.

A clatter of horses' hoofs on the parade-ground drew her to the balcony. What she saw brought joy to her heart. Lorry and Anguish, muddy and disheveled, were dismounting before the castle.

"Ah, this is joy! Now there are three good Americans here. I'm not afraid," she said bravely. Aunt Fanny nodded her head in approval, although she did not know what it was all about. Curiosity more than alarm made Beverly eager to see the document which old Marlanx held in reserve for her. She determined to met him at eleven.

A message from the princess announced the unexpected return of the two Americans. She said they were (to use Harry Anguish's own expression) "beastly near starvation" and clamored for substantial breakfasts, Beverly was urged to join them and to hear the latest news from the frontier.

Lorry and Anguish were full of the excitement on which they had lived for many hours. They had found evidence of raids by the Dawsbergen scouts and had even caught sight of a small band of fleeing horsemen. Lorry reluctantly admitted that Gabriel's army seemed loyal to him and that there was small hope of a conflict being averted, as he had surmised, through the defection of the people. He was surprised but not dismayed when Yetive told him certain portions of the story in regard to Marlanx; and, by no means averse to seeing the old man relegated to the background, heartily endorsed the step taken by his wife. He was fair enough, however, to promise the general a chance to speak in his own defense, if he so desired. He had this in view when he requested Marlanx to come to the castle at eleven o'clock for consultation.

"Gabriel is devoting most of his energy now to hunting that poor Dantan into his grave," said Anguish. "I believe he'd rather kill his half-brother than conquer Graustark. Why, the inhuman monster has set himself to the task of obliterating everything that reminds him of Dantan. We learned from spies down there that he issued an order for the death of Dantan's sister, a pretty young thing named Candace, because he believed she was secretly aiding her fugitive brother. She escaped from the palace in Serros a week ago, and no one knows what has become of her. There's a report that she was actually killed, and that the story of her flight is a mere blind on the part of Gabriel."

"He would do anything," cried Yetive." Poor child; they say she is like her English mother and is charming."

"That would set Gabriel against her, I fancy," went on Anguish. "And, by the way, Miss Calhoun, we heard something definite about your friend, Prince Dantan. It is pretty well settled that he isn't Baldos of the guard. Dantan was seen two days ago by Captain Dangloss's men. He was in the Dawsbergen pass and they talked with him and his men. There was no mistake this time. The poor, half-starved chap confessed to being the prince and begged for food for himself and his followers,"

"I tried to find him, and, failing in that, left word in the pass that if he would but cast his lot with us in this trouble we soon would restore him to his throne," said Lorry. "He may accept and we shall have him turning up here some day, hungry for revenge. And now, my dear Beverly, how are you progressing with the excellent Baldos, of whom we cannot make a prince, no matter how hard we try?"

Beverly and the princess exchanged glances in which consternation was difficult to conceal. It was clear to Beverly that Yetive had not told her husband of the escape.

"I don't know anything about Baldos," she answered steadily. "Last night someone shot at him in the park."

"The deuce you say!"

"In order to protect him until you returned, Gren, I had him transferred to guard duty inside the castle," explained the princess." It really seemed necessary. General Marlanx expects to present formal charges against him this morning, so I suppose we shall have to put him in irons for a little while. It seems too bad, doesn't it, Gren?"

"Yes. He's as straight as a string, I'll swear," said Lorry emphatically.

"I'll bet he wishes he were safely out of this place," ventured Anguish, and two young women busied themselves suddenly with their coffee.

"The chance is he's sorry he ever came into it," said Lorry tantalizingly.

While they were waiting for Marlanx the young Duke of Mizrox was announced. The handsome Axphainian came with relief and dismay struggling for mastery in his face.

"Your highness," he said, after the greetings, "I am come to inform you that Graustark has one prince less to account for. Axphain has found her fugitive."

"When?" cried the princess and Beverly in one voice and with astonishing eagerness, not unmixed with dismay.

"Three days ago," was the reply.

"Oh," came in deep relief from Beverly as she sank back into her chair. The same fear had lodged in the hearts of the two fair conspirators—that they had freed Baldos only to have him fall into the hands of his deadliest foes.

"I have a message by courier from my uncle in Axphain," said Mizrox. "He says that Frederic was killed near Labbot by soldiers, after making a gallant fight, on last Sunday night. The Princess Volga is rejoicing, and has amply rewarded his slayers. Poor Frederic! He knew but little happiness, in this life."

There was a full minute of reflection before any of his hearers expressed the thought that had framed itself in every mind.

"Well, since Dantan and Frederic are accounted for, Baldos is absolutely obliged to be Christobal," said Anguish resignedly.

"He's just Baldos," observed Beverly, snuffing out the faint hope that had lingered so long. Then she said to herself: "And I don't care, either. I only wish he were back here again. I'd be a good deal nicer to him."

Messengers flew back and forth, carrying orders from the castle to various quarters. The ministers were called to meet at twelve o'clock. Underneath all the bustle there was a tremendous impulse of American cunning, energy and resourcefulness. Everyone caught the fever. Reserved old diplomats were overwhelmed by their own enthusiasm; custom-bound soldiers forgot the hereditary caution and fell into the ways of the new leaders without a murmur. The city was wild with excitement, for all believed that the war was upon them. There was but one shadow overhanging the glorious optimism of Graustark—the ugly, menacing attitude of Axphain. Even the Duke of Mizrox could give no assurance that his country would remain neutral.

Colonel Quinnox came to the castle in haste and perturbation. It was he who propounded the question that Yetive and Beverly were expecting: "Where is Baldos?" Of course, the flight of the suspected guard was soon a matter of certainty. A single imploring glance from the princess, meant for the faithful Quinnox alone, told him as plainly as words could have said that she had given the man his freedom. And Quinnox would have died a thousand times to protect the secret of his sovereign, for had not twenty generations of Quinnoxes served the rulers of Graustark with unflinching loyalty? Baron Dangloss may have suspected the trick, but he did not so much as blink when the princess instructed him to hunt high and low for the fugitive.

Marlanx came at eleven. Under the defiant calmness of his bearing there was lurking a mighty fear. His brain was scourged by thoughts of impending disgrace. The princess had plainly threatened his degradation. After all these years, he was to tremble with shame and humiliation; he was to cringe where he had always boasted of domineering power. And besides all this, Marlanx had a bullet wound in his left shoulder! The world could not have known, for he knew how to conceal pain.

He approached the slender, imperious judge in the council-chamber with a defiant leer on his face. If he went down into the depths he would drag with him the fairest treasure he had coveted in all his years of lust and desire.

"A word with you," he said in an aside to Beverly, as she came from the council-chamber, in which she felt she should not sit. She stopped and faced him. Instinctively she looked to see if he bore evidence of a wound. She was positive that her bullet had struck him the night before, and that Marlanx was the man with the cloak.

"Well?" she said coldly. He read her thoughts and smiled, even as his shoulder burned with pain.

"I will give you the chance to save yourself. I love you. I want you. I must have you for my own," he was saying.

"Stop, sir! It may be your experience in life that women kneel to you when you command. It may be your habit to win what you set about to win. But you have a novel way of presenting your devoire, I must say. Is this the way in which you won the five unfortunates whom you want me to succeed? Did you scare them into submission?"

"No, no! I cared nothing for them. You are the only one I ever loved—"

"Really, Count Marlanx, you are most amusing," she interrupted, with a laugh that stung him to the quick." You have been unique in your love-making. I am not used to your methods. Besides, after having known them, I'll confess that I don't like them in the least. You may have been wonderfully successful in the past, but you were not dealing with an American girl. I have had enough of your insults. Go! Go in and face—"

"Have a care, girl!" he snarled. "I have it in my power to crush you."

"Pooh!" came scornfully from her lips. "If you molest me further I shall call Mr. Lorry. Let me pass!"

"Just glance at this paper, my beauty. I fancy you'll change your tune. It goes before the eyes of the council, unless you—" he paused significantly.

Beverly took the document and with dilated eyes read the revolting charges against her honor. Her cheeks grew white with anger, then flushed a deep crimson.

"You fiend!" she cried, glaring at him so fiercely that he instinctively shrank back, the vicious grin dying in his face. "I'll show you how much I fear you. I shall give this revolting thing to the princess. She may read it to the cabinet, for all I care. No one will believe you. They'll kill you for this!"

She turned and flew into the presence of the princess and her ministers. Speeding to the side of Yetive, she thrust the paper into her hands. Surprise and expectancy filled the eyes of all assembled.

"Count Marlanx officially charges me with—with—Read it, your highness," she cried distractedly.

Yetive read it, pale-faced and cold. A determined gleam appeared in her eyes as she passed the document to her husband.

"Allode," Lorry said to an attendant, after a brief glance at its revolting contents, "ask Count Marlanx to appear here instantly. He is outside the door."

Lorry's anger was hard to control. He clenched his hands and there was a fine suggestion of throttling in the way he did it. Marlanx, entering the room, saw that he was doomed. He had not expected Beverly to take this appalling step. The girl, tears in her eyes, rushed to a window, hiding her face from the wondering ministers. Her courage suddenly failed her. If the charges were read aloud before these men it seemed to her that she never could lift her eyes again. A mighty longing for Washington, her father and the big Calhoun boys, rushed to her heart as she stood there and awaited the crash. But Lorry was a true nobleman.

"Gentlemen," he said quietly," Count Marlanx has seen fit to charge Miss Calhoun with complicity in the flight of Baldos. I will not read the charges to you. They are unworthy of one who has held the highest position in the army of Graustark. He has—"

"Read this, my husband, before you proceed further," said Yetive, thrusting into his hand a line she had written with feverish haste. Lorry smiled gravely before he read aloud the brief edict which removed General Marlanx from the command of the army of Graustark.

"Is this justice?" protested Marlanx angrily. "Will you not give me a hearing? I beseech—"

"Silence!" commanded the princess. "What manner of hearing did you expect to give Miss Calhoun? It is enough, sir. There shall be no cowards in my army."

"Coward?" he faltered. "Have I not proved my courage on the field of battle? Am I to be called a—"

"Bravery should not end when the soldier quits the field of battle. You have had a hearing. Count Marlanx. I heard the truth about you last night."

"From Miss Calhoun?" sneered he viciously. "I must be content to accept this dismissal, your highness. There is no hope for me. Some day you may pray God to forgive you for the wrong you have done your most loyal servant. There is no appeal from your decision; but as a subject of Graustark I insist that Miss Calhoun shall be punished for aiding in the escape of this spy and traitor. He is gone, and it was she who led him through the castle to the outer world. She cannot deny this, gentlemen. I defy her to say she did not accompany Baldos through the secret passage last night."

"It will do no harm to set herself right by denying this accusation," suggested Count Halfont solemnly. Every man in the cabinet and army had hated Marlanx for years. His degradation was not displeasing to them. They would ask no questions.

But Beverly Calhoun stood staring out of the window, out upon the castle park and its gay sunshine. She did not answer, for she did not hear the premier's words. Her brain was whirling madly with other thoughts. She was trying to believe her eyes.

"The spy is gone," cried Marlanx, seeing a faint chance to redeem himself at her expense. "She can not face my charge. Where is your friend, Miss Calhoun?"

Beverly faced them with a strange, subdued calmness in her face. Her heart was throbbing wildly in the shelter of this splendid disguise.

"I don't know what all this commotion is about," she said. "I only know that I have been dragged into it shamelessly by that old man over there, If you step to the window you may see Baldos himself. He has not fled. He is on duty!"

Baldos was striding steadily across the park in plain view of all.



CHAPTER XXVII

THE PRINCE OF DAWSBERGEN

Both Yetive and Beverly experienced an amazing sense of relief. They did not stop to consider why or how he had returned to the castle grounds. It was sufficient that he was actually there, sound, well, and apparently satisfied.

"I dare say Count Marlanx will withdraw his infamous charge against our guest," said Lorry, with deadly directness. Marlanx was mopping his damp forehead. His eyes were fastened upon the figure of the guard, and there was something like awe in their steely depths. It seemed to him that the supernatural had been enlisted against him.

"He left the castle last night," he muttered, half to himself.

"There seems to be no doubt of that," agreed Gaspon, the grand treasurer. "Colonel Quinnox reports his strange disappearance." Clearly the case was a puzzling one. Men looked at one another in wonder and uneasiness.

"I think I understand the situation," exclaimed Marlanx, suddenly triumphant. "It bears out all that I have said. Baldos left the castle last night, as I have sworn, but not for the purpose of escaping. He went forth to carry Information to our enemies. Can anyone doubt that he is a spy? Has he not returned to carry out his work? And now, gentlemen, I ask you—would he return unless he felt secure of protection here?"

It was a facer, Yetive and Beverly felt as though a steel trap suddenly had been closed down upon them. Lorry and Anguish were undeniably disconcerted. There was a restless, undecided movement among the ministers.

"Colonel Quinnox, will you fetch Baldos to the verandah at once?" asked Lorry, his quick American perception telling him that immediate action was necessary. "It is cooler out there." He gave Beverly a look of inquiry. She flushed painfully, guiltily, and he was troubled in consequence.

"As a mere subject, I demand the arrest of this man," Marlanx was saying excitedly. "We must go to the bottom of this hellish plot to injure Graustark."

"My dear count," said Anguish, standing over him, "up to this time we have been unable to discern any reasons for or signs of the treachery you preach about. I don't believe we have been betrayed at all."

"But I have absolute proof, sir," grated the count.

"I'd advise you to produce it. We must have something to work on, you know."

"What right have you to give advice, sir? You are not one of us. You are a meddler—an impertinent alien. Your heart is not with Graustark, as mine is. How long must we endure the insolence of these Americans?"

The count was fuming with anger. As might have been expected, the easy-going Yankees laughed unreservedly at his taunt. The princess was pale with indignation.

"Count Marlanx, you will confine your remarks to the man whom you have charged with treachery," she said. "You have asked for his arrest, and you are to be his accuser. At the proper time you will produce the proof. I warn you now that if you do not sustain these charges, the displeasure of the crown will fall heavily upon you."

"I only ask your highness to order his arrest," he said, controlling himself. "He is of the castle guard and can be seized only on your command."

"Baldos is at the castle steps, your highness," said Colonel Quinnox from the doorway. The entire party left the council-chamber and passed out to the great stone porch. It must be confessed that the princess leaned rather heavily upon Lorry's arm. She and Beverly trembled with anxiety as they stood face to face with the tall guard who had come back to them so mysteriously.

Baldos stood at the foot of the stone steps, a guard on each side of him. One of these was the shamefaced Haddan, Dangloss's watchman, whose vigil had been a failure. The gaze of the suspected guard purposely avoided that of Beverly Calhoun. He knew that the slightest communication between them would be misunderstood and magnified by the witnesses.

"Baldos," said Lorry, from the top step, "it has come to our ears that you left the castle surreptitiously last night. Is it true that you were aided by Miss Calhoun?" Baldos looked thankful for this eminently leading question. In a flash it gave him the key to the situation. Secretly he was wondering what emotions possessed the slender accomplice who had said good-bye to him not so many hours before at the castle gate. He knew that she was amazed, puzzled by his sudden return; he wondered if she were glad. His quick wits saw that a crisis had arrived. The air was full of it. The dread of this very moment was the thing which had drawn him into the castle grounds at early dawn. He had watched for his chance to glide in unobserved, and had snatched a few hours' sleep in the shelter of the shrubbery near the park wall.

"It is not true," he said clearly, in answer to Lorry's question. Both Beverly and Marlanx started as the sharp falsehood fell from his lips. "Who made such an accusation?" he demanded.

"Count Marlanx is our informant."

"Then Count Marlanx lies," came coolly from the guard. A snarl of fury burst from the throat of the deposed general. His eyes were red and his tongue was half palsied by rage.

"Dog! Dog!" he shouted, running down the steps. "Infamous dog! I swear by my soul that he—"

"Where is your proof, Count Marlanx?" sternly interrupted Lorry. "You have made a serious accusation against our honored guest. It cannot be overlooked."

Marlanx hesitated a moment, and then threw his bomb at the feet of the conspirators.

"I was in the chapel when she opened the secret panel for him."

Not a word was uttered for a full minute. It was Beverly Calhoun who spoke first. She was as calm as a spring morning.

"If all this be true, Count Marlanx, may I ask why you, the head of Graustark's army, did not intercept the spy when you had the chance?"

Marlanx flushed guiltily. The question had caught him unprepared. He dared not acknowledge his presence there with the hired assassins.

"I—I was not in a position to restrain him," he fumbled.

"You preferred to wait until he was safely gone before making the effort to protect Graustark from his evil designs. Is that it? What was your object in going to the chapel? To pray? Besides, what right had you to enter the castle in the night?" she asked ironically.

"Your highness, may I be heard?" asked Baldos easily. He was smiling up at Yetive from the bottom of the steps. She nodded her head a trifle uneasily. "It is quite true that I left the castle by means of your secret passage last night."

"There!" shrieked Marlanx. "He admits that he—"

"But I wish to add that Count Marlanx is in error when he says that Miss Calhoun was my accomplice. His eyes were not keen in the darkness of the sanctuary. Perhaps he is not accustomed to the light one finds in a chapel at the hour of two. Will your highness kindly look in the direction of the southern gate? Your august gaze may fall upon the reclining figure of a boy asleep, there in the shadow of the friendly cedar. If Count Marlanx had looked closely enough last night he might have seen that it was a boy who went with me and not—"

"Fool! Don't you suppose I know a woman's skirts?" cried the Iron Count.

"Better than most men, I fancy," calmly responded Baldos. "My young friend wore the garments of a woman, let me add."

Lorry came down and grasped Baldos by the arm. His eyes were stern and accusing. Above, Yetive and Beverly had clasped hands and were looking on dumbly. What did Baldos mean?

"Then, you did go through the passage? And you were accompanied by this boy, a stranger? How comes this, sir?" demanded Lorry. Every eye was accusing the guard at this juncture. The men were descending the steps as if to surround him.

"It is not the first time that I have gone through the passage, sir," said Baldos, amused by the looks of consternation. "I'd advise you to close it. Its secret is known to more than one person. It is known, by the way, to Prince Gabriel of Dawsbergen. It is known to every member of the band with which Miss Calhoun found me when she was a princess. Count Marlanx is quite right when he says that I have gone in and out of the castle grounds from time to time. He is right when he says that I have communicated with men inside and outside of these grounds. But he is wrong when he accuses Miss Calhoun of being responsible for or even aware of my reprehensible conduct. She knew nothing of all this, as you may judge by taking a look at her face at this instant."

Beverly's face was a study in emotions. She was looking at him with dilated eyes. Pain and disappointment were concentrated in their expressive gray depths; indignation was struggling to master the love and pity that had lurked in her face all along. It required but a single glance to convince the most skeptical that she was ignorant of these astounding movements on the part of her protege. Again every eye was turned upon the bold, smiling guardsman.

"I have been bitterly deceived in you," said Lorry, genuine pain in his voice. "We trusted you implicitly. I didn't think it of you, Baldos. After all, it is honorable of you to expose so thoroughly your own infamy in order to acquit an innocent person who believed in you. You did not have to come back to the castle. You might have escaped punishment by using Miss Calhoun as a shield from her highness's wrath. But none the less you compel me to give countenance to all that Count Marlanx has said."

"I insist that it was Miss Calhoun who went through the panel with him," said Marlanx eagerly.

"If it was this boy who accompanied you, what was his excuse in returning to the castle after you had fled?"

"He came back to watch over Miss Calhoun while she slept. It was my sworn duty to guard her from the man who had accused her. This boy is a member of the band to which I belong and he watched while I went forth on a pretty business of my own. It will be useless to ask what that business was. I will not tell. Nor will the boy. You may kill us, but our secrets die with us. This much I will say: we have done nothing disloyal to Graustark. You may believe me or not. It has been necessary for me to communicate with my friends, and I found the means soon after my arrival here. All the foxes that live in the hills have not four legs," he concluded significantly.

"You are a marvel!" exclaimed Lorry, and there was real admiration in his voice. "I'm sorry you were fool enough to come back and get caught like this. Don't look surprised, gentlemen, for I believe that in your hearts you admire him quite as much as I do." The faint smile that went the rounds was confirmation enough. Nearly every man there had been trained in English-speaking lands and not a word of the conversation had been missed.

"I expected to be arrested, Mr. Lorry," said Baldos calmly. "I knew that the warrant awaited me. I knew that my flight of last night was no secret. I came back willingly, gladly, your highness, and now I am ready to face my accuser. There is nothing for me to fear."

"And after you have confessed to all these actions? By George, I like your nerve," exclaimed Lorry.

"I have been amply vindicated," cried Marlanx. "Put him in irons—and that boy, too."

"We'll interview the boy," said Lorry, remembering the lad beneath the tree.

"See; he's sleeping so sweetly," said Baldos gently. "Poor lad, he has not known sleep for many hour. I suppose he'll have to be awakened, poor little beggar."

Colonel Quinnox and Haddan crossed the grounds to the big cedar. The boy sprang to his feet at their call and looked wildly about. Two big hands clasped his arms, and a moment later the slight figure came pathetically across the intervening space between the stalwart guards.

"Why has he remained here, certain of arrest?" demanded Lorry in surprise.

"He was safer with me than anywhere else, Mr. Lorry. You may shoot me a thousand times, but I implore you to deal gently with my unhappy friend. He has done no wrong. The clothes you see upon that trembling figure are torturing the poor heart more than you can know. The burning flush upon that cheek is the red of modesty. Your highness and gentlemen, I ask you to have pity on this gentle friend of mine." He threw his arm about the shoulder of the slight figure as it drooped against him. "Count Marlanx was right. It was a woman he saw with me in the chapel last night."

The sensation created by this simple statement was staggering. The flushed face was unmistakably that of a young girl, a tender, modest thing that shrank before the eyes of a grim audience. Womanly instinct impelled Yetive to shield the timid masquerader. Her strange association with Baldos was not of enough consequence in the eyes of this tender ruler to check the impulse of gentleness that swept over her. That the girl was guiltless of any wrong-doing was plain to be seen. Her eyes, her face, her trembling figure furnished proof conclusive. The dark looks of the men were softened when the arm of the princess went about the stranger and drew her close.

"Bah! Some wanton or other!" sneered Marlanx. "But a pretty one, by the gods. Baldos has always shown his good taste,"

Baldos glared at him like a tiger restrained. "Before God, you will have those words to unsay," he hissed.

Yetive felt the slight body of the girl quiver and then grow tense.

The eyes of Baldos now were fixed on the white, drawn face of Beverly Calhoun, who stood quite alone at the top of the steps. She began to sway dizzily and he saw that she was about to fall. Springing away from the guards, he dashed up the steps to her side. His arm caught her as she swayed, and its touch restored strength to her—the strength of resentment and defiance.

"Don't!" she whispered hoarsely.

"Have courage," he murmured softly. "It will all be well. There is no danger."

"So this is the woman!" she cried bitterly.

"Yes. You alone are dearer to me than she," he uttered hurriedly.

"I can't believe a word you say."

"You will, Beverly. I love you. That is why I came back. I could not leave you to meet it alone. Was I not right? Let them put me into irons—let them kill me—"

"Come!" cried Colonel Quinnox, reaching his side at this instant. "The girl will be cared for. You are a prisoner."

"Wait!" implored Beverly, light suddenly breaking in upon her. "Please wait, Colonel Quinnox." He hesitated, his broad shoulders between her and the gaping crowd below. She saw with grateful heart that Yetive and Lorry were holding the steps as if against a warlike foe. "Is she—is she your wife?"

"Good heavens, no!" gasped Baldos.

"Your sweetheart?" piteously.

"She is the sister of the man I serve so poorly," he whispered. Quinnox allowed them to walk a few paces down the flagging, away from the curious gaze of the persons below.

"Oh, Baldos!" she cried, her heart suddenly melting. "Is she Prince Dantan's sister?" Her hand clasped his convulsively, as he nodded assent. "Now I do love you."

"Thank God!" he whispered joyously. "I knew it, but I was afraid you never would speak the words. I am happy—I am wild with joy."

"But they may shoot you," she shuddered. "You have condemned yourself. Oh, I cannot talk to you as I want to—out here before all these people. Don't move, Colonel Quinnox—they can't see through you. Please stand still."

"They will not shoot me, Beverly, dear. I am not a spy," said Baldos, looking down into the eyes of the slender boyish figure who stood beside the princess. "It is better that I should die, however," he went on bitterly. "Life will not be worth living without you. You would not give yourself to the lowly, humble hunter, so I—"

"I will marry you, Paul. I love you. Can't anything be done to—"

"It is bound to come out all right in the end," he cried, throwing up his head to drink in the new joy of living. "They will find that I have done nothing to injure Graustark. Wait, dearest, until the day gives up its news. It will not be long in coming. Ah, this promise of yours gives me new life, new joy. I could shout it from the housetops!"

"But don't!" she cried nervously. "How does she happen to be here with you? Tell me, Paul. Oh, isn't she a dear?"

"You shall know everything in time. Watch over her, dearest. I have lied today for you, but it was a lie I loved. Care for her if you love me. When I am free and in favor again you will—Ah!" he broke off suddenly with an exclamation. His eyes were bent eagerly on the circle of trees just beyond the parade-ground. Then his hand clasped hers in one spasmodic grip of relief. An instant later he was towering, with head bare, at the top of the steps, his hand pointed dramatically toward the trees.

Ravone, still in his ragged uniform, haggard but eager, was standing like a gaunt spectre in the sunlight that flooded the terrace. The vagabond, with the eyes of all upon him, raised and lowered his arms thrice, and the face of Baldos became radiant.

"Your highness," he cried to Yetive, waving his hand toward the stranger, "I have the honor to announce the Prince of Dawsbergen."



CHAPTER XXVIII

A BOY DISAPPEARS

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 I was helping 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.