“Ah, your highness, I realize that you have had much more important things to do than to think of poor Baldos, I am exceedingly grateful for this sign of interest in my welfare. Your visit is the brightest experience of my life.”
“Be seated!” she cried suddenly. “You are too ill to stand.”
“Were I dying I should refuse to be seated while your highness stands,” said he simply. His shoulders seemed to square themselves involuntarily and his left hand twitched as though accustomed to the habit of touching a sword-hilt. Beverly sat down instantly; with his usual easy grace, he took a chair near by. They were alone in the ante-chamber.
“Even though you were on your last legs?” she murmured, and then wondered how she could have uttered anything so inane. Somehow, she was beginning to fear that he was not the ordinary person she had judged him to be. “You are to be discharged from the hospital tomorrow,” she added hastily.
“Tomorrow?” he cried, his eyes lighting with joy. “I may go then?”
“I have decided to take you to Edelweiss with me,” she said, very much as if that were all there was to it. He stared at her for a full minute as though doubting his ears.
“No!” he said, at last, his jaws settling, his eyes glistening. It was a terrible setback for Beverly’s confidence. “Your highness forgets that I have your promise of absolute freedom.”
“But you are to be free,” she protested. “You have nothing to fear. It is not compulsory, you know. You don’t have to go unless you really want to. But my heart is set on having you in—in the castle guard.” His bitter, mocking laugh surprised and wounded her, which he was quick to see, for his contrition was immediate.
“Pardon, your highness. I am a rude, ungrateful wretch, and I deserve punishment instead of reward. The proposal was so astounding that I forgot myself completely,” he said.
Whereupon, catching him in this contrite mood, she began a determined assault against his resolution. For an hour she devoted her whole heart and soul to the task of overcoming his prejudices, fears and objections, meeting his protestations firmly and logically, unconscious of the fact that her very enthusiasm was betraying her to him. The first signs of weakening inspired her afresh and at last she was riding over him rough-shod, a happy victor. She made promises that Yetive herself could not have made; she offered inducements that never could be carried out, although in her zeal she did not know it to be so; she painted such pictures of ease, comfort and pleasure that he wondered why royalty did not exchange places with its servants. In the end, overcome by the spirit of adventure and a desire to be near her, he agreed to enter the service for six months, at the expiration of which time he was to be released from all obligations if he so desired.
“But my friends in the pass, your highness,” he said in surrendering, “what is to become of them? They are waiting for me out there in the wilderness. I am not base enough to desert them.”
“Can’t you get word to them?” she asked eagerly. “Let them come into the city, too. We will provide for the poor fellows, believe me.”
“That, at least, is impossible, your highness,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “You will have to slay them before you can bring them within the city gates. My only hope is that Franz may be here tonight. He has permission to enter, and I am expecting him today or tomorrow.”
“You can send word to them that you are sound and safe and you can tell them that Graustark soldiers shall be instructed to pay no attention to them whatever. They shall not be disturbed.” He laughed outright at her enthusiasm. Many times during her eager conversation with Baldos she had almost betrayed the fact that she was not the princess. Some of her expressions were distinctly unregal and some of her slips were hopeless, as she viewed them in retrospect.
“What am I? Only the humble goat-hunter, hunted to death and eager for a short respite. Do with me as you like, your highness. You shall be my princess and sovereign for six months, at least,” he said, sighing. “Perhaps it is for the best.”
“You are the strangest man I’ve ever seen,” she remarked, puzzled beyond expression.
That night Franz appeared at the hospital and was left alone with Baldos for an hour or more. What passed between them, no outsider knew, though there tears in the eyes of both at the parting. But Franz did not start for the pass that night, as they had expected. Strange news had come to the ears of the faithful old follower and he hung about Ganlook until morning came, eager to catch the ear of his leader before it was too late.
The coach was drawn up in front of the hospital at eight o’clock, Beverly triumphant in command. Baldos came down the steps slowly, carefully, favoring the newly healed ligaments in his legs. She smiled cheerily at him and he swung his rakish hat low. There was no sign of the black patch. Suddenly he started and peered intently into the little knot of people near the coach. A look of anxiety crossed his face. From the crowd advanced a grizzled old beggar who boldly extended his hand. Baldos grasped the proffered hand and then stepped into the coach. No one saw the bit of white paper that passed from Franz’s palm into the possession of Baldos. Then the coach was off for Edelweiss, the people of Ganlook enjoying the unusual spectacle of a mysterious and apparently undistinguished stranger sitting in luxurious ease beside a fair lady in the royal coach of Graustark.
CHAPTER XII
IN SERVICE
It was a drowsy day, and, besides, Baldos was not in a communicative frame of mind. Beverly put forth her best efforts during the forenoon, but after the basket luncheon had been disposed of in the shade at the roadside, she was content to give up the struggle and surrender to the soothing importunities of the coach as it bowled along. She dozed peacefully, conscious to the last that he was a most ungracious creature and more worthy of resentment than of benefaction. Baldos was not intentionally disagreeable; he was morose and unhappy because he could not help it. Was he not leaving his friends to wander alone in the wilderness while he drifted weakly into the comforts and pleasures of an enviable service? His heart was not in full sympathy with the present turn of affairs, and he could not deny that a selfish motive was responsible for his action. He had the all too human eagerness to serve beauty; the blood and fire of youth were strong in this wayward nobleman of the hills.
Lying back in the seat, he pensively studied the face of the sleeping girl whose dark-brown head was pillowed against the corner cushions of the coach. Her hat had been removed for the sake of comfort. The dark lashes fell like a soft curtain over her eyes, obscuring the merry gray that had overcome his apprehensions. Her breathing was deep and regular and peaceful. One little gloved hand rested carelessly in her lap, the other upon her breast near the delicate throat. The heart of Baldos was troubled. The picture he looked upon was entrancing, uplifting; he rose from the lowly state in which she had found him to the position of admirer in secret to a princess, real or assumed. He found himself again wondering if she were really Yetive, and with that fear in his heart he was envying Grenfall Lorry, the lord and master of this exquisite creature, envying with all the helplessness of one whose hope is blasted at birth.
The note which had been surreptitiously passed to him in Ganlook lay crumpled and forgotten inside his coat pocket, where he had dropped it the moment it had come into his possession, supposing that the message contained information which had been forgotten by Franz, and was by no means of a nature to demand immediate attention. Had he read it at once his suspicions would have been confirmed, and it is barely possible that he would have refused to enter the city.
Late in the afternoon the walls of Edelweiss were sighted. For the first time he looked upon the distant housetops of the principal city of Graustark. Up in the clouds, on the summit of the mountain peak overlooking the city, stood the famed monastery of Saint Valentine. Stretching up the gradual incline were the homes of citizens, accessible only by footpaths and donkey roads. Beverly was awake and impatient to reach the journey’s end. He had proved a most disappointing companion, polite, but with a baffling indifference that irritated her considerably. There was a set expression of defiance in his strong,