Part 30 (1/2)

”Wha's become o' de gemman 'at wo' hit in the fust place? Ah ain' seen him fo' two--three days.”

”I'm sure I don't know. He's probably asleep. That cla.s.s of people never lose sleep over anything.”

”'E's er pow'ful good-lookin' pusson,” suggested Aunt f.a.n.n.y. Beverly's eyes brightened.

”Oh, do you think so?” she said, quite indifferently. ”What are you doing with that hat?”

”Takin' out de featheh--jes' as--”

”Well, leave it alone. Don't disturb my things, Aunt f.a.n.n.y. How many times must I tell you--”

”Good Lawd!” was all that Aunt f.a.n.n.y could say.

”Don't forget about the time-tables,” said Beverly, as she sallied forth for her walk in the park.

In the afternoon she went driving with Princess Yetive and the young Duke of Mizrox, upon whose innocent and sufficiently troubled head she was heaping secret abuse because of the news he brought. Later, Count Marlanx appeared at the castle for his first lesson in poker. He looked so sure of himself that Beverly hated him to the point of desperation.

At the same time she was eager to learn how matters stood with Baldos. The count's threat still hung over her head, veiled by its ridiculous shadow of mercy. She knew him well enough by this time to feel convinced that Baldos would have to account for his temerity, sooner or later. It was like the cat and the helpless mouse.

”It's too hot,” she protested, when he announced himself ready for the game. ”n.o.body plays poker when it's 92 in the shade.”

”But, your highness,” complained the count, ”war may break out any day. I cannot concede delay.”

”I think there's a game called 'shooting c.r.a.ps,'” suggested she serenely. ”It seems to me it would be particularly good for warriors. You could be shooting something all the time.”

He went away in a decidedly irascible frame of mind. She did not know it, but Baldos was soon afterward set to work in the garrison stables, a most loathsome occupation, in addition to his duties as a guard by night.

After mature deliberation Beverly set herself to the task of writing home to her father. It was her supreme intention to convince him that she would be off for the States in an amazingly short time. The major, upon receiving the letter three weeks later, found nothing in it to warrant the belief that she was ever coming home. He did observe, however, that she had but little use for the army of Graustark, and was especially disappointed in the set of men Yetive retained as her private guard. For the life of her, Beverly could not have told why she disapproved of the guard in general or in particular, but she was conscious of the fact, after the letter was posted, that she had said many things that might have been left unwritten. Besides, it was not Baldos's fault that she could not sleep; it was distinctly her own. He had nothing to do with it.

”I'll bet father will be glad to hear that I am coming home,” she said to Yetive, after the letter was gone.

”Oh, Beverly, dear, I hate to hear of your going,” cried the princess.”

When did you tell him you'd start?”

”Why, oh,--er--let me see; when _did_ I say? Dash me--as Mr. Anguish would say--I don't believe I gave a date. It seems to me I said _soon_, that's all.”

”You don't know how relieved I am,” exclaimed Yetive rapturously? and Beverly was in high dudgeon because of the implied reflection, ”I believe you are in a tiff with Baldos,” went on Yetive airily.

”Goodness! How foolish you can be at times, Yetive,” was what Beverly gave back to her highness, the Princess of Graustark.

Late in the evening couriers came in from the Dawsbergen frontier with reports which created considerable excitement in castle and army circles. Prince Gabriel himself had been seen in the northern part of his domain, accompanied by a large detachment of picked soldiers. Lorry set out that very night for the frontier, happy in the belief that something worth while was about to occur. General Marlanx issued orders for the Edelweiss army corps to ma.s.s beyond the southern gates of the city the next morning. Commands were also sent to the outlying garrisons. There was to be a general movement of troops before the end of the week. Graustark was not to be caught napping.

Long after the departure of Lorry and Anguish, the princess sat on the balcony with Beverly and the Countess Dagmar. They did not talk much. The mission of these venturesome young American husbands was full of danger. Something in the air had told their wives that the first blows of war were to be struck before they looked again upon the men they loved.

”I think we have been betrayed by someone,” said Dagmar, after an almost interminable silence. Her companion did not reply. ”The couriers say that Gabriel knows where we are weakest at the front and that he knows our every movement. Yetive, there is a spy here, after all.”

”And that spy has access to the very heart of our deliberations,” added Beverly pointedly. ”I say this in behalf of the man whom you evidently suspect, countess. _He_ could not know these things.”

”I do not say that he does know, Miss Calhoun, but it is not beyond reason that he may be the go-between, the means of transferring information from the main traitor to the messengers who await outside our walls.”