"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."
"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.
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."