“Well, he said things that a soldier must endure. A civilian or an equal might have run him through for it, your highness.” A flush rose to his cheeks and his lips quivered ever so slightly. But Beverly saw and understood. Her heart was in her eyes.
“That settles it,” she said rigidly. “You are not to report to him at nine tomorrow.”
“But he will have me shot, your highness,” said he gladly.
“He will do nothing of the kind. You are my guard,” and her eyes were gleaming dangerously. Then she rejoined the group, the members of which had been watching her curiously. “Count Marlanx,” she said, with entrancing dimples, “will you report to me at nine tomorrow morning?”
“I have an appointment,” he said slowly, but with understanding.
“But you will break it, I am sure,” she asserted confidently. “I want to give you a lesson in—in lawn tennis.”
Later on, when the victoria was well away from the fort, Dagmar took her companion to task for holding in public friendly discourse with a member of the guard, whoever he might be.
“It is altogether contrary to custom, and—” but Beverly put her hand over the critical lips and smiled like a guilty child.
“Now, don’t scold,” she pleaded, and the countess could go no further.
The following morning Count Marlanx reported at nine o’clock with much better grace than he had suspected himself capable of exercising. What she taught him of tennis on the royal courts, in the presence of an amused audience, was as nothing to what he learned of strategy as it can be practiced by a whimsical girl. Almost before he knew it she had won exemption for Baldos, that being the stake for the first set of singles. To his credit, the count was game. He took the wager, knowing that he, in his ignorance, could not win from the blithe young expert in petticoats. Then he offered to wager the brass candlestick against her bracelet. She considered for a moment and then, in a spirit of enthusiasm, accepted the proposition. After all, she coveted the candlestick. Half an hour later an orderly was riding to the fort with instructions to return at once with Miss Calhoun’s candlestick. It is on record that they were “love” sets, which goes to prove that Beverly took no chances.
Count Marlanx, puffing and perspiring, his joints dismayed and his brain confused, rode away at noon with Baron Dangloss. Beverly, quite happy in her complete victory, enjoyed a nap of profound sweetness and then was ready for her walk with the princess. They were strolling leisurely about the beautiful grounds, safe in the shade of the trees from the heat of the July sun, when Baron Dangloss approached.
“Your royal highness,” he began, with his fierce smile, “may I beg a moment’s audience?”
“It has to do with Baldos, I’ll take oath,” said Beverly, with conviction.
“Yes, with your guard. Yesterday he visited the fortress. He went in an official capacity, it is true, but he was privileged to study the secrets of our defense with alarming freedom. It would not surprise me to find that this stranger has learned everything there is to know about the fort.” His listeners were silent. The smiles left their faces. “I am not saying that he would betray us—”
“No, no!” protested Beverly.
“—but he is in a position to give the most valuable information to an enemy. An officer has just informed me that Baldos missed not a detail in regard to the armament, or the location of vital spots in the construction of the fortress.”
“But he wouldn’t be so base as to use his knowledge to our undoing,” cried Yetive seriously.
“We only know that he is not one of us. It is not beyond reason that his allegiance is to another power, Dawsbergen, for instance. Count Marlanx is not at all in sympathy with him, you are aware. He is convinced that Baldos is a man of consequence, possibly one of our bitterest enemies, and he hates him. For my own part, I may say that I like the man. I believe he is to be trusted, but if he be an agent of Volga or Gabriel, his opportunity has come. He is in a position to make accurate maps of the fort and of all our masked fortifications along the city walls.” Beyond a doubt, the baron was worried.
“Neither am I one of you,” said Beverly stoutly. “Why shouldn’t I prove to be a traitress?”
“You have no quarrel with us, Miss Calhoun,” said Dangloss.
“If anything happens, then, I am to be blamed for it,” she cried in deep distress. “I brought him to Edelweiss, and I believe in him.”
“For his own sake, your highness, and Miss Calhoun, I suggest that no opportunity should be given him to communicate with the outside world. We cannot accuse him, of course, but we can protect him. I come to ask your permission to have him detailed for duty only in places where no suspicion can attach to any of his actions.”
“You mean inside the city walls?” asked Yetive.
“Yes, your highness, and as far as possible from the fortress.”
“I think it is a wise precaution. Don’t be angry, Beverly,” the princess said gently. “It is for his own sake, you see. I am acting on the presumption that he is wholly innocent of any desire to betray us.”
“It would be easy for someone high in position to accuse and convict him,” said Dangloss meaningly.
“And it would be just like someone, too,” agreed Beverly, her thoughts, with the others’, going toward none but one man “high in power.”
Later in the day she called Baldos to her side as they were riding in the castle avenue. She was determined to try a little experiment of her own.
“Baldos, what do you think of the fortress?” she asked.
“I could overthrow it after half an hour’s bombardment, your highness,” he answered, without thinking. She started violently.
“Is it possible? Are there so many weak points?” she went on, catching her breath.
“There are three vital points of weakness, your highness. The magazine can be reached from the outside if one knows the lay of the land; the parade-ground exposes the ammunition building to certain disadvantages, and the big guns could be silenced in an hour if an enemy had the sense first to bombard from the elevation northeast of the city.”
“Good heavens!” gasped poor Beverly. “Have you studied all this out?”
“I was once a real soldier, your highness,” he said, simply. “It was impossible for me not to see the defects in your fort.”
“You—you haven’t told anyone of this, have you?” she cried, white-faced and anxious.
“No one but your highness. You do not employ me as a tale-bearer, I trust.”
“I did not mean to question your honor,” she said. “Would you mind going before the heads of the war department and tell them just what you have told me? I mean about the weak spots.”
“If it is your command, your highness,” he said quietly, but he was surprised.
“You may expect to be summoned then, so hold yourself in readiness. And, Baldos—”
“Yes, your highness?”
“You need say nothing to them of our having talked the matter over beforehand—unless they pin you down to it, you know.”
CHAPTER XV
THE TESTING OF BALDOS
A few hours later, all was dark and silent within the castle. On the stone walks below, the steady tread of sentinels rose on the still air; in the hallways the trusted guardsmen glided about like spectres or stood like statues. An hour before the great edifice had been bright and full of animation; now it slumbered.
It was two o’clock. The breath of roses scented the air, the gurgle of fountains