"The Princess Candace ceases to be his sister," volunteered the Duke of
Mizrox. "She is and long has been his affianced wife."
Enchanted and confused over all that had occurred in the last few
moments, Beverly murmured her heartfelt congratulations to the joyous
couple. The orchestra had again ceased playing. All eyes turned to
Baldos,--the real Prince Dantan,--who, glass in hand, rose to his feet.
"Your Royal Highness, Ladies and Gentlemen: Graustark and Dawsbergen are
entering a new era. I pledge you my honor that never again shall the
slightest misunderstanding exist between them. They shall go forth to
their glorious destiny as one people. Your gracious ruler has seen fit
to bestow her hand and affections upon an American gentleman, your
esteemed prince consort. We all know how loyally the people have
approved her choice. There is one present, a trusted friend of your
beautiful princess, and lovingly called in your hearts, Beverly of
Graustark. Whose example more worthy for me to follow than that of the
Princess Yetive? With whom could I better share my throne and please you
more than with your beloved American protege. I ask you to drink a toast
to my betrothed, Beverly Calhoun, the future Princess of Dawsbergen."
Every glass was raised and the toast drunk amidst ringing cheers. The
military band crashed out the air so dear to all Americans, especially
to southern hearts. Beverly was too overcome to speak.
"You all--!" she exclaimed.
There was a tremendous commotion in the gallery. People were standing in
their seats half frightened and amused, their attention attracted by the
unusual scene. A portly negress totally unconscious of the sensation she
was causing, her feet keeping time to the lively strains of music, was
frantically waving a red and yellow bandanna handkerchief. It was Aunt
Fanny, and in a voice that could be heard all over the banquet hall, she
shouted: "Good Lawd, honey, ef der ain't playin' 'Away Down South in
Dixie,' Hooray! Hooray!"
* * * * * Hours later Beverly was running, confused and humbled, through the halls
to her room, when a swifter one than she came up and checked her flight.
"Beverly," cried an eager voice. She slackened her pace and glanced over
her shoulder. The smiling, triumphant face of Baldos met her gaze. The
upper hall was almost clear of people. She was strangely frightened,
distressingly diffident. Her door was not far away, and she would have
reached it in an instant later had he not laid a restraining, compelling
hand upon her arm. Then she turned to face him, her lips parted in
protest. "Don't look at me in that way," he cried imploringly. "Come,
dearest, come with me. We can be alone in the nook at the end of the
hall. Heavens, I am the happiest being in all the world. It has turned
out as I have prayed it should."