Beverly of Graustark - Page 46/184

"Will your highness come with me?" said the officer, returning to the

hall after a short absence. There was unmistakable derision in his voice

and palpable insolence in his manner. Beverly flushed angrily. "Baron

Dangloss is very curious to see you," he added, with a

smile. Nevertheless, he shrank a bit beneath the cold gleam in the eyes

of the impostor.

"You will remain here," she said, turning to Baldos and the

negress. "And you will have nothing whatever to say to this very

important young man." The "important young man" actually chuckled.

"Follow me, your most royal highness," he said, preceding her through

the door that opened into the office of the commandant. Baldos glared

after them in angry amazement.

"Young man, some day and soon you will be a much wiser soldier

and, in the ranks," said Beverly hotly. The smile instantly receded from

the insolent fellow's face, for there was a world of prophecy in the way

she said it. Somehow, he was in a much more respectful humor when he

returned to the hall and stood in the presence of the tall, flushed

stranger with the ragged uniform.

A short, fierce little man in the picturesque uniform of a Graustark

officer arose as Beverly entered the office. His short beard bristled as

though it were concealing a smile, but his manner was polite, even

deferential. She advanced fearlessly toward him, a wayward smile

struggling into her face.

"I daresay you know I am not the princess," she said composedly. Every

vestige of fear was gone now that she had reached the line of

battle. The doughty baron looked somewhat surprised at this frank way of

opening the interview.

"I am quite well aware of it," he said politely.

"They say you know everyone, Baron Dangloss," she boldly said. "Pray,

who am I?"

The powerful official looked at the smiling face for a moment, his bushy

eyebrows contracting ever so slightly. There was a shameless streak of

dust across her cheek, but there was also a dimple there that appealed

to the grim old man. His eyes twinkled as he replied, with fine

obsequiousness: "You are Miss Beverly Calhoun, of Washington."