"I do hope he'll not always act this way," she was complaining in her
thoughts. "He was so charmingly impudent out in the hills, so
deliciously human. Now he is like a clam. Yetive will think I am such a
fool if he doesn't live up to the reputation I've given him!"
"Here are the gates," he said, half to himself. "What is there in store
for me beyond those walls?"
"Oh, I wish you wouldn't be so dismal," she cried in despair. "It seems
just like a funeral."
"A thousand apologies, your highness," he murmured, with a sudden
lightness of speech and manner. "Henceforth I shall be a most amiable
jester, to please you."
Beverly and the faithful Aunt Fanny were driven to the castle, where the
former bade farewell to her new knight until the following morning, when
he was to appear before her for personal instructions. Colonel Quinnox
escorted him to the barracks of the guards where he was to share a room
with young Haddan, a corporal in the service.
"The wild, untamed gentleman from the hills came without a word, I see,"
said Lorry, who had watched the approach. He and Yetive stood in the
window overlooking the grounds from the princess's boudoir, Beverly had
just entered and thrown herself upon a divan.
"Yes, he's here," she said shortly.
"How long do you, with all your cleverness, expect to hoodwink him into
the belief that you are the princess?" asked Yetive, amused but anxious.
"He's a great fool for being hoodwinked at all," said Beverly, very much
at odds with her protege. "In an hour from now he will know the truth
and will be howling like a madman for his freedom."
"Not so soon as that, Beverly," said Lorry consolingly. "The guards and
officers have their instructions to keep him in the dark as long as
possible."
"Well, I'm tired and mad and hungry and everything else that isn't
compatible. Let's talk about the war," said Beverly, the sunshine in her
face momentarily eclipsed by the dark cloud of disappointment.
Baldos was notified that duty would be assigned to him in the
morning. He went through the formalities which bound him to the service
for six months, listening indifferently to the words that foretold the
fate of a traitor. It was not until his hew uniform and equipment came
into his possession that he remembered the note resting in his
pocket. He drew it out and began to read it with the slight interest of
one who has anticipated the effect. But not for long was he to remain
apathetic. The first few lines brought a look of understanding to his
eyes; then he laughed the easy laugh of one who has cast care and
confidence to the winds. This is what he read: "She is not the princess. We have been duped. Last night I learned the
truth. She is Miss Calhoun, an American, going to be a guest at the
castle. Refuse to go with her into Edelweiss. It may be a trap and may
mean death. Question her boldly before committing yourself."