"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.



CHAPTER XXIX

THE CAPTURE OF GABRIEL

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!



CHAPTER XXX

IN THE GROTTO

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.



CHAPTER XXXI

CLEAR SKIES

The Duke of Matz and his associates reached Edelweiss in the afternoon. Their attendants and servants carried luggage bearing the princely crest of Dawsbergen, and meant for Prince Dantan and his sister Candace. In the part of the castle set apart for the visitors an important consultation was held behind closed doors. There Dantan met his countrymen and permitted them to renew the pledge of fealty that had been shattered by the overpowering influence of his mad half-brother. What took place at this secret meeting the outside world never knew. Only the happy result was made known. Prince Dantan was to resume his reign over Dawsbergen, as if it never had been interrupted.

The castle, brilliant from bottom to top, filled with music and laughter, experienced a riot of happiness such as it had not known in years. The war clouds had lifted, the sunshine of contentment was breaking through the darkness, and there was rejoicing in the hearts of all. Bright and glorious were the colors that made up the harmony of peace. Men and women of high degree came to the historic old walls, garbed in the riches of royalty and nobility. To Beverly Calhoun it was the most enchanting sight she had ever looked upon. From the galleries she gazed down into the halls glittering with the wealth of Graustark and was conscious of a strange feeling of glorification. She felt that she had a part in this jubilee. With Candace she descended the grand staircase and mingled with the resplendent crowd.

She was the center of attraction. Dressed in a simple, close-fitting gown of black velvet, without an ornament, her white arms and shoulders gleaming in the soft light from the chandeliers, she was an enticing creature to be admired by men and women alike. Two stalwart Americans felt their hearts bound with pride as they saw the conquest their countrywoman was making. Candace, her constant companion in these days, was consumed with delight.

"You are the prettiest thing in all this world," she ecstatically whispered into Beverly's ear. "My brother says so, too," she added conclusively. Beverly was too true a woman not to revel in this subtle flattery.

The great banquet hall was to be thrown open at midnight. There was dancing and song during the hours leading up to this important event. Beverly was entranced. She had seen brilliant affairs at home, but none of them compared to this in regal splendor. It was the sensuous, overpowering splendor of the east.

Prince Dantan joined the throng just before midnight. He made his way direct to the little circle of which Beverly and Candace formed the center. His rich, full military costume gave him a new distinction that quite overcame Beverly. They fell into an animated conversation, exchanging shafts of wit that greatly amused those who could understand the language.

"You must remember," Beverly said in reply to one of Ravone's sallies, "that Americans are not in the least awed by Europe's greatness. It has come to the pass when we call Europe our playground. We now go to Europe as we go to the circus or the county fair at home. It isn't much more trouble, you know, and we must see the sights."

"Alas, poor Europe!" he laughed. As he strolled about with her and Candace he pointed out certain men to her, asking her to tax her memory in the effort to recall their faces if not their apparel. She readily recognized in the lean, tired faces the men she had met first at the Inn of the Hawk and Raven.

"They were vagabonds then, Miss Calhoun. Now they are noblemen. Does the transition startle you?"

"Isn't Baldos among them?" she asked, voicing the query that had been uppermost in her mind since the moment when she looked down from the galleries and failed to see him. She was wondering how he would appear in court costume.

"You forget that Baldos is only a guard," he said kindly.

"He is a courtier, nevertheless," she retorted.

She was vaguely disappointed because he was missing from the scene of splendor. It proved to her that caste overcame all else In the rock-ribbed east. The common man, no matter how valiant, had no place in such affairs as these. Her pride was suffering. She was as a queen among the noblest of the realm. As the wife of Baldos she would live in another world—on the outskirts of this one of splendor and arrogance. A stubborn, defiant little frown appeared on her brow as she pictured herself in her mind's eye standing afar off with "the man" Baldos, looking at the opulence she could not reach. Her impetuous, rebellious little heart was thumping bitterly as she considered this single phase of the life to come. She was ready to cry out against the injustice of it all. The little frown was portentous of deep-laid designs. She would break down this cruel barrier that kept Baldos from the fields over which prejudice alone held sway. Her love for him and her determination to be his wife were not in the least dulled by these reflections.

The doors to the great banquet-hall were thrown open at last and in the disorder that followed she wondered who was to lead her to the feasting. The Duke of Mizrox claimed the Princess Candace.

"I am to have the honor," said someone at her side, and the voice was the one she least expected to hear utter the words. The speaker was the man who deserved the place beside Yetive—Prince Dantan himself.

Bewildered, her heart palpitating with various emotions, she took his arm and allowed herself to be drawn wonderingly through the massive doors. As they entered, followed by the brilliant company, the superb orchestra that Beverly had so often enjoyed, began to play the stirring "Hands Across the Sea." The musicians themselves seemed to have caught the universal feeling of joy and mirth that was in the air, and played as if inspired, their leader bowing low to the young American girl as she passed. It was his affectionate tribute to her. Prince Dantan, to her amazement, led her up the entire length of the banquet hall, to the head of the royal table, gorgeous with the plate of a hundred Graustark rulers, placing her on his left and next to the slightly raised royal chairs. Candace was on his right, the picture of happiness. Beverly felt dizzy, weak. She looked helplessly at Prince Dantan. His smile was puzzling. As if in a daze, she saw Grenfall Lorry with the Countess Yvonne standing exactly opposite to her, he with the others, awaiting the appearance of the princess and the one who was to sit beside her.

The music ceased, there was a hush over the room, and then Yetive came forward, magnificent in her royal robes, smiling and happy. A tall man in the uniform of an exalted army officer stood beside her, gold braid and bejeweled things across his breast. Beverly turned deathly white, her figure stiffened and then relaxed.

It was Baldos!

She never knew how she dropped into the chair the servant held for her. She only knew that his dark eyes were smiling at her with love and mischief in their depths. There was a vague, uncertain sound of chattering; someone was talking eagerly to her, but she heard him not; there was a standing toast to the Prince of Dawsbergen; then the audacious ghost of Baldos was proposing a ringing response to the Princess Yetive; the orchestra was playing the Graustark and Dawsbergen national hymns. But it was all as a dream to her. At last she heard Candace calling to her, her face wreathed in smiles. Scores of eyes seemed to be looking at her and all of them were full of amusement.

"Now, say that a girl can't keep a secret," came to her ears from the radiant sister of Dantan. Ravone, at her side, spoke to her, and she turned to him dizzily.

"You first knew me as Ravone, Miss Calhoun," he was saying genially. "Then it became necessary, by royal command, for me to be Prince Dantan. May I have the honor of introducing myself in the proper person? I am Christobal of Rapp-Thorburg, and I shall be no other than he hereafter. The friendship that binds me to Prince Dantan, at last in his proper place beside the Princess of Graustark, is to be strengthened into a dearer relationship before many days have passed."

"The Princess Candace ceases to be his sister," volunteered the Duke of Mizrox. "She is and long has been his affianced wife."

Enchanted and confused over all that had occurred in the last few moments, Beverly murmured her heartfelt congratulations to the joyous couple. The orchestra had again ceased playing. All eyes turned to Baldos,—the real Prince Dantan,—who, glass in hand, rose to his feet.

"Your Royal Highness, Ladies and Gentlemen: Graustark and Dawsbergen are entering a new era. I pledge you my honor that never again shall the slightest misunderstanding exist between them. They shall go forth to their glorious destiny as one people. Your gracious ruler has seen fit to bestow her hand and affections upon an American gentleman, your esteemed prince consort. We all know how loyally the people have approved her choice. There is one present, a trusted friend of your beautiful princess, and lovingly called in your hearts, Beverly of Graustark. Whose example more worthy for me to follow than that of the Princess Yetive? With whom could I better share my throne and please you more than with your beloved American protege. I ask you to drink a toast to my betrothed, Beverly Calhoun, the future Princess of Dawsbergen."

Every glass was raised and the toast drunk amidst ringing cheers. The military band crashed out the air so dear to all Americans, especially to southern hearts. Beverly was too overcome to speak.

"You all—!" she exclaimed.

There was a tremendous commotion in the gallery. People were standing in their seats half frightened and amused, their attention attracted by the unusual scene. A portly negress totally unconscious of the sensation she was causing, her feet keeping time to the lively strains of music, was frantically waving a red and yellow bandanna handkerchief. It was Aunt Fanny, and in a voice that could be heard all over the banquet hall, she shouted: "Good Lawd, honey, ef der ain't playin' 'Away Down South in Dixie,' Hooray! Hooray!"

* * * * *

Hours later Beverly was running, confused and humbled, through the halls to her room, when a swifter one than she came up and checked her flight.

"Beverly," cried an eager voice. She slackened her pace and glanced over her shoulder. The smiling, triumphant face of Baldos met her gaze. The upper hall was almost clear of people. She was strangely frightened, distressingly diffident. Her door was not far away, and she would have reached it in an instant later had he not laid a restraining, compelling hand upon her arm. Then she turned to face him, her lips parted in protest. "Don't look at me in that way," he cried imploringly. "Come, dearest, come with me. We can be alone in the nook at the end of the hall. Heavens, I am the happiest being in all the world. It has turned out as I have prayed it should."

She allowed him to lead her to the darkened nook. In her soul she was wondering why her tongue was so powerless. There were a hundred things she wanted to say to him, but now that the moment had come she was voiceless. She only could look helplessly at him. Joy seemed to be paralyzed within her; it was as if she slept and could not be awakened. As she sank upon the cushion he dropped to his knee before her, his hand clasping hers with a fervor that thrilled her with life. As he spoke, her pulses quickened and the blood began to race furiously.

"I have won your love, Beverly, by the fairest means. There has never been an hour in which I have not been struggling for this glorious end. You gave yourself to me when you knew I could be nothing more than the humblest soldier. It was the sacrifice of love. You will forgive my presumption—my very insolence, dear one, when I tell you that my soul is the forfeit I pay. It is yours through all eternity. I love you. I can give you the riches of the world as well as the wealth of the heart. The vagabond dies; your poor humble follower gives way to the supplicating prince. You would have lived in a cot as the guardsman's wife; you will take the royal palace instead?"

Beverly was herself again. The spell was gone. Her eyes swam with happiness and love; the suffering her pride had sustained was swept into a heap labeled romance, and she was rejoicing.

"I hated you to-night, I thought," she cried, taking his face in her hands. "It looked as though you had played a trick on me. It was mean, dear. I couldn't help thinking that you had used me as a plaything and it—it made me furious. But it is different now. I see, oh, so plainly. And just as I had resigned myself to the thought of spending the rest of my life in a cottage, away outside the pale of this glorious life! Oh, it is like a fairy tale!"

"Ah, but it was not altogether a trick, dear one. There was no assurance that I could regain the throne—not until the very last. Without it I should have been the beggar instead of the prince. We would have lived in a hovel, after all. Fortune was with me, I deceived you for months, Beverly—my Beverly, but it was for the best. In defense of my honor and dignity, however, I must tell you that the princess has known for many days that I am Dantan. I told her the truth when Christobal came that day with the news. It was all well enough for me to pass myself off as a vagabond, but it would have been unpardonable to foist him upon her as the prince."

"And she has known for a week?" cried Beverly in deep chagrin.

"And the whole court has known."

"I alone was blind?"

"As blind as the proverb. Thank God, I won your love as a vagabond. I can treasure it as the richest of my princely possessions. You have not said that you will go to my castle with me, dear."

She leaned forward unsteadily and he took her in his eager arms. Their lips met and their eyes closed in the ecstasy of bliss. After a long time she lifted her lids and her eyes of gray looked solemnly into his dark ones.

"I have much to ask you about, many explanations to demand, sir," she said threateningly.

"By the rose that shields my heart, you shall have the truth," he laughed back at her." I am still your servant. My enlistment is endless. I shall always serve your highness."

"Your highness!" she murmured reflectively. Then a joyous smile of realization broke over her face. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"Do you think your brothers will let me come to Washington, now?" he asked teasingly.

"It does seem different, doesn't it?" she murmured, with a strange little smile, "You will come for me?"

"To the ends of the earth, your highness."