"He is the recognized leader of the nobles of Bharbazonia and a great friend of the General's. He is about Palmora's age, but as hot-headed and impetuous as a youth."
It was too fine a day to be indoors, and I suggested that we employ the morning by riding about the country on horseback. Nick forgot the weariness he had offered the General as an excuse for remaining behind and readily assented. The stables were in the rear of the castle and we found them full of the finest horses money could buy. Nick conversed with the stablemen by means of the sign language, remembering his American character, and we were soon upon the road astride the best travellers I have ever seen.
"Wither awa'," I cried gaily as we left the estate, coming into the public road by the porter's lodge and gates which I recognized from the evening before.
"Let us go to Dhalmatia and see how the Prince is this morning," said Nick.
I turned my head to hide the smile. So he, too, was interested in the Prince? I wondered if the General's suspicions had at last awakened in Nick's breast a desire similar to my own, or was it that he wished to improve his acquaintance with the future king?
"On to the lair of the Red Fox," I said.
Nick's estates, I found, were on one side of the road and the Red Fox's on the other. The entrances were at opposite ends and about two miles apart. I remembered that it must have been over this very highway that Nick's father and his friend the General had hurriedly galloped that memorable night twenty years ago drawn by the strange ringing of the natal bell. Our journey was made more decorously, but upon a strangely similar errand as far as I was concerned.
The castle on the hill was visible from the road. Although it stood bathed in sunlight in the clearing high above the woodland, it retained all its sombreness. And the General's remarks came back to me with renewed force. Had I been alone I might have turned back.
No one came forward to take our horses when we dismounted. The silent battlements grinned down upon us as though to warn us away. I held the bridle reins while Nick beat upon the oaken door with the handle of his riding crop.
The butler who answered was the old man who had held the lantern the night before. He resembled his master in grimness of manner and secrecy of method, opening the door slightly and blocking the aperture with his body, as if he suspected we had come to filch the bric-a-brac, or make way with the Prince. As soon as he laid eyes upon us he addressed himself to a task he appeared to relish.