And then the conversation related particularly to the advantages of royalty as viewed from one side and the disadvantages as regarded from another. For a long time Beverly had been wondering how she should proceed in the effort to secure absolute clemency for Baldos. As yet she had said nothing to Yetive of her promise to him, made while she was a princess.
“At any rate, I’m sure the goat-hunters would not have been so faithful and true if they had not believed me to be a princess,” said Beverly, paving the way. “You haven’t a man in your kingdom who could be more chivalrous than Baldos.”
“If he is that kind of a man, he would treat any woman as gently.”
“You should have heard him call me ‘your highness,’” cried Beverly. “He will loathe me if he ever learns that I deceived him.”
“Oh, I think he deceived himself,” spoke Yetive easily. “Besides, you look as much like a princess as I.”
“There is something I want to speak very seriously about to you, Yetive,” said Beverly, making ready for the cast. “You see, he did not want to enter Ganlook with me, but I insisted. He had been so brave and gallant, and he was suffering so intensely. It would have been criminal in me to leave him out there in the wilderness, wouldn’t it?”
“It would have been heartless.”
“So I just made him come along. That was right, wasn’t it? That’s what you would have done, no matter who he was or what his objections might have been. Well, you see, it’s this way, Yetive: he is some sort of a fugitive—not a criminal, you know—but just some one they are hunting for, I don’t know why. He wouldn’t tell me. That was perfectly right, if he felt that way, wasn’t it?”
“And he had fought a lion in your defense,” supplemented Yetive, with a schoolgirl’s ardor.
“And I had shot him in the arm, too,” added Beverly. “So of course, I just had to be reasonable. In order to induce him to come with me to a hospital, I was obliged to guarantee perfect safety to him. His men went back to the hills, all except old Franz, the driver. Now, the trouble is this, Yetive: I am not the princess and I cannot redeem a single promise I made to him. He is helpless, and if anything goes wrong with him he will hate me forever.”
“No; he will hate me for I am the princess and he is none the wiser.”
“But he will be told that his princess was Beverly Calhoun, a supposedly nice American girl. Don’t you see how awkward it will be for me? Now, Yetive, darling, what I wish you to do is to write a note, order or edict or whatever it is to Baron Dangloss, commanding him to treat Baldos as a patient and not as a prisoner; and that when he is fully recovered he is to have the privilege of leaving Ganlook without reservation.”
“But he may be a desperate offender against the state, Beverly.” plaintively protested Yetive. “If we only knew what he is charged with!”
“I’m afraid it’s something dreadfully serious,” admitted Beverly gloomily. “He doesn’t look like the sort of man who would engage in a petty undertaking. I’ll tell you his story, just as he told it to me,” and she repeated the meagre confessions of Baldos.
“I see no reason why we should hesitate,” said the princess. “By his own statement, he is not a desperate criminal. You did quite right in promising him protection, dear, and I shall sustain you. Do you want to play the princess to Baldos a little longer?”
“I should love it,” cried Beverly, her eyes sparkling.
“Then I shall write the order to Dangloss at once. Oh, dear, I have forgotten, I have no official seal here.”
“Couldn’t you seal it with your ring?” suggested Beverly. “Oh, I have it! Send for Baron Dangloss and have him witness your signature. He can’t get away from that, you see, and after we reach Edelweiss, you can fix up a regular edict, seal and all,” cried the resourceful American girl.
Ink and paper were sent for and the two conspirators lent their wisdom to the task of preparing an order for the salvation of Baldos, the fugitive. The order read:
To BARON JASTO DANGLOSS, COMMANDING THE CIVIC AND MILITARY POLICE OF GRAUSTARK:
“You are hereby informed that Baldos, the man who entered the city with Miss Calhoun, is not to be regarded as a prisoner now or hereafter. He is to be given capable medical and surgical attention until fully recovered, when he is to be allowed to go his way in peace unquestioned.
“Also, he is to be provided with suitable wearing apparel and made comfortable in every way.
“Also, the members of his party, now in the hills (whose names are unknown to me), are to be accorded every protection. Franz, the driver, is to have his freedom if he desires it.
“And from this edict there is no recourse until its abatement by royal decree.
“YETIVE.”
“There,” said the princess, affixing her signature “I think that will be sufficient.” Then she rang for a servant. “Send to Baron Dangloss and ask him to come here at once.”
Fifteen minutes later the chief of police stood in the presence of the eager young interpreters of justice.
“I want you to witness my signature, Baron Dangloss,” said the princess after the greetings.
“Gladly,” said the officer.
“Well, here is where I signed,” said Yetive, handing him the paper. “I don’t have to write my name over again, do I?”
“Not at all,” said the baron gallantly. And he boldly signed his name as a witness.
“They wouldn’t do that in the United States,” murmured Beverly, who knew something about red tape at Washington.
“It is a command to you, baron,” said Yetive, handing him the document with a rare smile. He read it through slowly. Then he bit his lip and coughed. “What is the matter, baron?” asked Yetive, still smiling.
“A transitory emotion, your highness, that is all,” said he; but his hand trembled as he folded the paper.
CHAPTER X
INSIDE THE CASTLE WALLS
Bright and early the next morning the party was ready for the last of the journey to Edelweiss. Less than twenty miles separated Ganlook from the capital, and the road was in excellent condition. Beverly Calhoun, tired and contented, had slept soundly until aroused by the princess herself. Their rooms adjoined each other, and when Yetive, shortly after daybreak, stole into the American girl’s chamber, Beverly was sleeping so sweetly that the intruder would have retreated had it not been for the boisterous shouts of stable-boys in the courtyard below the windows. She hurried to a window and looked out upon the gray-cloaked morning. Postillions and stable-boys were congregated near the gates, tormenting a ragged old man who stood with his back against one of the huge posts. In some curiosity, she called Beverly from her slumbers, urging the sleepy one to hasten to the window.
“Is this one of your friends from the wilderness?” she asked.
“It’s Franz!” cried Beverly, rubbing her pretty eyes. Then she became thoroughly awake. “What are they doing to him? Who are those ruffians?” she demanded indignantly.
“They are my servants, and—”
“Shame on them! The wretches! What has old Franz done that they should—Call to them! Tell ’em you’ll cut their heads off if they don’t stop. He’s a dear old fellow in spite of his rags, and he—”
The window-sash flew open and the tormentors in the court below were astonished by the sound of a woman’s voice, coming, as it were, from the clouds. A dozen pairs of eyes were turned upward; the commotion ended suddenly. In the window above stood two graceful, white-robed figures. The sun, still far below the ridge of mountains, had not yet robbed the morning