Truxton King had been in a resentful frame of mind for nearly forty-eight hours. In the first place, he had not had so much as a single glimpse of the girl he now worshipped with all his heart. In the second place, he had learned, with unpleasant promptness, that Count Vos Engo was the officer in command of the House Guard, a position as gravely responsible as it was honourable. The cordon about the Castle was so tightly drawn in these perilous hours that even members of the household were subjected to examination on leaving or entering.
Truxton naturally did not expect to invade the Castle in search of the crumb of comfort he so ardently desired; he did not, however, dream that Vos Engo would deny him the privilege of staring at a certain window from a rather prim retreat in a far corner of the Plaza.
He had, of course, proffered his services to Colonel Quinnox. The Colonel, who admired the Americans, gravely informed him that there was no regular duty to which he could be assigned, but that he would expect him to hold himself ready for any emergency. In case of an assault, he was to report to Count Vos Engo.
"We will need our bravest men at the Castle," he had said. Truxton glowed under the compliment. "In the meantime, Mr. King, regain your strength in the park. You show the effect of imprisonment. Your adventures have been most interesting, but I fancy they invite rest for the present."
It was natural that this new American should become an object of tremendous interest to every one in and about the Castle. The story of his mishaps and his prowess was on every lip; his timely appearance in Regengetz Circus was regarded in the light of divine intervention, although no one questioned the perfectly human pluck that brought it about. Noble ladies smiled upon him in the park, to which they now repaired with timorous hearts; counts and barons slapped him on the back and doughty guardsmen actually saluted him with admiration in their eyes.
But he was not satisfied. Loraine had not come forward with a word of greeting or relief; in fact, she had not appeared outside the Castle doors. Strangely enough, with the entire park at his disposal, he chose to frequent those avenues nearest the great balconies. More than once he visited the grotto where he had first seen her; but it was not the same. The occasional crack of a rifle on the walls no longer fired him with the interest he had felt in the beginning. Forty-eight hours had passed and she still held aloof. What could it mean? Was she ill? Had she collapsed after the frightful strain?