"It seems that all Edelweiss looks upon me as a prince in disguise. You
found me in the hills--"
"No; you found me. I have not forgotten, sir."
"I was a vagabond and a fugitive. My friends are hunted as I am. We have
no home. Why everyone should suspect me of being a prince I cannot
understand. Every roamer in the hills is not a prince. There is a price
upon my head, and there is a reward for the capture of every man who was
with me in the pass. My name is Paul Baldos, Miss Calhoun. There is no
mystery in that. If you were to mention it in a certain city, you would
quickly find that the name of Baldos is not unknown to the people who
are searching for him. No, your highness, I regret exceedingly that I
must destroy the absurd impression that I am of royal blood. Perhaps I
am spoiling a pretty romance, but it cannot be helped. I was Baldos, the
goat-hunter; I am now Baldos, the guard. Do you think that I would be
serving as a Graustark guard if I were any one of the men you mention?"
Beverly listened in wonder and some disappointment, it must be
confessed. Somehow a spark of hope was being forever extinguished by
this straightforward denial. He was not to be the prince she had seen in
dreams. "You are not like anyone else," she said." That is why we
thought of you as--as--as--"
"As one of those unhappy creatures they call princes? Thank fortune,
your highness, I am not yet reduced to such straits. My exile will come
only when you send me away."
They were silent for a long time. Neither was thinking of the hour, or
the fact that her absence in the castle could not be unnoticed. Night
had fallen heavily upon the earth. The two faithful chair-bearers,
respectful but with wonder in their souls, stood afar off and
waited. Baldos and Beverly were alone in their own little world.
"I think I liked you better when you wore the red feather and that
horrid patch of black," she said musingly.
"And was a heart-free vagabond," he added, something imploring in his
voice.
"An independent courtier, if you please, sir," she said severely.
"Do you want me to go back to the hills? I have the patch and the
feather, and my friends are--"
"No! Don't suggest such a thing--yet." She began the protest eagerly and
ended it in confusion.
"Alas, you mean that some day banishment is not unlikely?"
"You don't expect to be a guard all your life, do you?"
"Not to serve the princess of Graustark, I confess. My aim is much
higher. If God lets me choose the crown I would serve, I shall enlist
for life. The crown I would serve is wrought of love, the throne I would
kneel before is a heart, the sceptre I would follow is in the slender
hand of a woman. I could live and die in the service of my own
choosing. But I am only the humble goat-hunter whose hopes are phantoms,
whose ideals are conceived in impotence."