Part 19 (1/2)

CHAPTER XIV

A VISIT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES

That same afternoon Baldos, blissfully ignorant of the stir he had created in certain circles, rode out for the first time as a member of the Castle Guard. He and Haddan were detailed by Colonel Quinnox to act as private escort to Miss Calhoun until otherwise ordered. If Haddan thought himself wiser than Baldos in knowing that their charge was not the princess, he was very much mistaken; if he enjoyed the trick that was being played on his fellow guardsman, his enjoyment was as nothing as compared to the pleasure Baldos was deriving from the situation. The royal victoria was driven to the fortress, conveying the supposed princess and the Countess Dagmar to the home of Count Marlanx. The two guards rode bravely behind the equipage, resplendent in brilliant new uniforms. Baldos was mildly surprised and puzzled by the homage paid the young American girl. It struck him as preposterous that the entire population of Edelweiss could be in the game to deceive him.

”Who is the princess's companion?” he inquired of Haddan, as they left the castle grounds.

”The Countess Dagmar, cousin to her highness. She is the wife of Mr. Anguish.”

”I have seen her before,” said Baldos, a strange smile on his face.

The Countess Dagmar found it difficult at first to meet the eye of the new guard, but he was so punctiliously oblivious that her courage was restored. She even went so far as to whisper in Beverly's ear that he did not remember her face, and probably would not recognize Yetive as one of the eavesdroppers. The princess had flatly refused to accompany them on the visit to the fortress because of Baldos. Struck by a sudden impulse, Beverly called Baldos to the side of the vehicle.

”Baldos, you behaved very nicely yesterday in exposing the duplicity of those young women,” she said.

”I am happy to have pleased your highness,” he said steadily.

”It may interest you to know that they ceased to be ladies-in-waiting after that exposure.”

”Yes, your highness, it certainly is interesting,” he said, as he fell back into position beside Haddan. During the remainder of the ride he caught himself time after time gazing reflectively at the back of her proud little head, possessed of an almost uncontrollable desire to touch the soft brown hair.

”You can't fool that excellent young man much longer, my dear,” said the countess, recalling the look in his dark eyes. The same thought had been afflicting Beverly with its probabilities for twenty-four hours and more.

Count Marlanx welcomed his visitors with a graciousness that awoke wonder in the minds of his staff. His marked preference for the American girl did not escape attention. Some of the bolder young officers indulged in surrept.i.tious grimaces, and all looked with more or less compa.s.sion upon the happy-faced beauty from over the sea. Marlanx surveyed Baldos steadily and coldly, deep disapproval in his sinister eyes. He had not forgotten the encounter of the day before.

”I see the favorite is on guard,” he said blandly. ”Has he told you of the lesson in manners he enjoyed last night?” He was leading his guests toward the quarters, Baldos and Haddan following. The new guard could not help hearing the sarcastic remark.

”You didn't have him beaten?” cried Beverly, stopping short.

”No, but I imagine it would have been preferable. I _talked_ with him for half an hour,” said the general, laughing significantly.

When the party stopped at the drinking-fountain in the center of the fort, Baldos halted near by. His face was as impa.s.sive as marble, his eyes set straight before him, his figure erect and soldierly. An occasional sarcastic remark by the Iron Count, meant for his ears, made no impression upon the deadly composure of the new guard who had had his _lesson_. Miss Calhoun was conscious of a vague feeling that she had served Baldos an ill-turn when she put him into this position.

The count provided a light luncheon in his quarters after the ladies had gone over the fortress. Beverly Calhoun, with all of a woman's indifference to things material, could not but see how poorly equipped the fort was as compared to the ones she had seen in the United States. She and the countess visited the armory, the a.r.s.enal, and the repair shops before luncheon, reserving the pleasures of the clubhouse, the officers' quarters, and the parade-ground until afterwards. Count Marlanx's home was in the southeast corner of the enclosure, near the gates. Several of the officers lunched with him and the young ladies. Marlanx was a.s.siduous in his attention to Beverly Calhoun--so much so, in fact, that the countess teased her afterwards about her conquest of the old and well-worn heart. Beverly thought him extremely silly and sentimental, much preferring him in the character of the harsh, implacable martinet.

At regular intervals she saw the straight, martial form of Baldos pa.s.s the window near which she sat. He was patrolling the narrow piazza which fronted the house. Toward the close of the rather trying luncheon she was almost unable to control the impulse to rush out and compel him to relax that imposing, machine-like stride. She hungered for a few minutes of the old-time freedom with him.

The Iron Count was showing her some rare antique bronzes he had collected in the south. The luncheon was over and the countess had strolled off toward the bastions with the young officers, leaving Beverly alone with the host. Servants came in to clear the tables, but the count harshly ordered them to wait until the guests had departed.

”It is the dearest thing I have seen,” said Beverly, holding a rare old candlestick at arm's length and looking at it in as many ways as the wrist could turn. Her loose sleeves ended just below the elbows. The count's eyes followed the graceful curves of her white forearm with an eagerness that was annoying.

”I prize it more dearly than any other piece in my collection,” he said. ”It came from Rome; it has a history which I shall try to tell you some day, and which makes it almost invaluable. A German n.o.bleman offered me a small fortune if I would part with it.”

”And you wouldn't sell it?”

”I was saving it for an occasion, your highness,” he said, his steely eyes glittering. ”The glad hour has come when I can part with it for a recompense far greater than the baron's gold.”

”Oh, isn't it lucky you kept it?” she cried. Then she turned her eyes away quickly, for his gaze seemed greedily endeavoring to pierce through the lace insertion covering her neck and shoulders. Outside the window the steady tramp of the tall guard went on monotonously.

”The recompense of a sweet smile, a tender blush and the unguarded thanks of a pretty woman. The candlestick is yours, Miss Calhoun,--if you will repay me for my sacrifice by accepting it without reservation.”