"Prince Gabriel is the very essence of trouble," confessed Yetive,
plaintively." He was born to annoy people, just like the evil prince in
the fairy tales."
"I wish we had him over here," the American girl answered stoutly. "He
wouldn't be such a trouble I'm sure. We don't let small troubles worry
us very long, you know."
"But he's dreadfully important over there, Beverly; that's the difficult
part of it," said Yetive, solemnly." You see, he is a condemned
murderer."
"Then, you ought to hang him or electrocute him or whatever it is that
you do to murderers over there," promptly spoke Beverly.
"But, dear, you don't understand. He won't permit us either to hang or
to electrocute him, my dear. The situation is precisely the reverse, if
he is correctly quoted by my uncle. When Uncle Caspar sent an envoy to
inform Dawsbergen respectfully that Graustark would hold it personally
responsible if Gabriel were not surrendered, Gabriel himself replied:
'Graustark be hanged!'"
"How rude of him, especially when your uncle was so courteous about
it. He must be a very disagreeable person," announced Miss Calhoun.
"I am sure you wouldn't like him," said the princess. "His brother, who
has been driven from the throne--and from the capital, in fact--is quite
different. I have not seen him, but my ministers regard him as a
splendid young man."
"Oh, how I hope he may go back with his army and annihilate that old
Gabriel!" cried Beverly, frowning fiercely.
"Alas," sighed the princess, "he hasn't an army, and besides he is
finding it extremely difficult to keep from being annihilated
himself. The army has gone over to Prince Gabriel."
"Pooh!" scoffed Miss Calhoun, who was thinking of the enormous armies
the United States can produce at a day's notice. "What good is a
ridiculous little army like his, anyway? A battalion from Fort Thomas
could beat it to--"
"Don't boast, dear," interrupted Yetive, with a wan smile. "Dawsbergen
has a standing army of ten thousand excellent soldiers. With the war
reserves she has twice the available force I can produce."
"But your men are so brave," cried Beverly, who had heard their praises
sung.
"True, God bless them; but you forget that we must attack Gabriel in his
own territory. To recapture him means a perilous expedition into the
mountains of Dawsbergen, and I am sorely afraid. Oh, dear, I hope he'll
surrender peaceably!"
"And go back to jail for life?" cried Miss Calhoun. "It's a good deal to
expect of him, dear. I fancy it's much better fun kicking up a rumpus on
the outside than it is kicking one's toes off against an obdurate stone
wall from the inside. You can't blame him for fighting a bit."
"No--I suppose not," agreed the princess, miserably. "Gren is actually
happy over the miserable affair, Beverly. He is full of enthusiasm and
positively aching to be in Graustark--right in the thick of it all. To
hear him talk, one would think that Prince Gabriel has no show at
all. He kept me up till four o'clock this morning telling me that
Dawsbergen didn't know what kind of a snag it was going up against. I
have a vague idea what he means by that; his manner did not leave much
room for doubt. He also said that we would jolt Dawsbergen off the map.
It sounds encouraging, at least, doesn't it?"