Beverly of Graustark

by George Barr McCutcheon

"But he has been unfair and mean to Baldos."

"It is a soldier's lot, my dear."

"But he may be Prince Dantan or Frederic or the other one, don't you know," argued Beverly, clenching her hands firmly.

"In that event, he would be an honorable soldier, and we have nothing to fear in him. Neither of them is our enemy. It is the possibility that he is not one of them that makes his presence here look dangerous."

"I don't want to talk about him," said Beverly, but she was disappointed when the princess obligingly changed the subject.

Baldos was not surprised, scarcely more than interested, when a day or two later, he was summoned to appear before the board of strategy. If anyone had told him, however, that on a recent night a pair of dreamy gray eyes had tried to find his window in the great black shadow, he might have jumped in amazement and—delight. For at that very hour he was looking off toward the castle, and his thoughts were of the girl who drew back into the shadow of the pillar.

The Graustark ministry had received news from the southern frontier. Messengers came in with the alarming and significant report that Dawsbergen was strengthening her fortifications in the passes and moving war supplies northward. It meant that Gabriel and his people expected a fight and were preparing for it. Count Halfont hastily called the ministers together, and Lorry and the princess took part in their deliberations. General Marlanx represented the army; and it was he who finally asked to have Baldos brought before the council. The Iron Count plainly intimated that the new guard was in a position to transmit valuable information to the enemy. Colonel Quinnox sent for him, and Baldos was soon standing in the presence of Yetive and her advisers. He looked about him with a singular smile. The one whom he was supposed to regard as the princess was not in the council chamber. Lorry opened the examination at the request of Count Halfont, the premier. Baldos quietly answered the questions concerning his present position, his age, his term of enlistment, and his interpretations of the obligations required of him.

"Ask him who he really is," suggested the Iron Count sarcastically.

"We can expect but one answer to that question," said Lorry, "and that is the one which he chooses to give."

"My name is Baldos—Paul Baldos," said the guard, but he said it in such a way that no one could mistake his appreciation of the fact that he could give one name as well as another and still serve his own purposes.