"I wonder if these things would have happened if Baldos had never come to Edelweiss?" mused the princess. As though by common impulse, both of the Graustark women placed their arms about Beverly.
"It's because we have so much at stake, Beverly, dear," whispered Dagmar. "Forgive me if I have hurt you."
Of course, Beverly sobbed a little in the effort to convince them that she did not care whom they accused, if he proved to be the right man in the end. They left her alone on the balcony. For an hour after midnight she sat there and dreamed. Everyone was ready to turn against Baldos. Even she had been harsh toward him, for had she not seen him relegated to the most obnoxious of duties after promising him a far different life? And now what was he thinking of her? His descent from favor had followed upon the disclosures which made plain to each the identity of the other. No doubt he was attributing his degradation, in a sense, to the fact that she no longer relished his services, having seen a romantic little ideal shattered by his firm assertions. Of course, she knew that General Marlanx was alone instrumental in assigning him to the unpleasant duty he now observed, but how was Baldos to know that she was not the real power behind the Iron Count?
A light drizzle began to fall, cold and disagreeable. There were no stars, no moon. The ground below was black with shadows, but shimmering in spots touched by the feeble park lamps. She retreated through her window, determined to go to bed. Her rebellious brain, however, refused to banish him from her thoughts. She wondered if he were patroling the castle grounds In the rain, in all that lonely darkness. Seized by a sudden inspiration, she threw a gossamer about her, grasped an umbrella and ventured out upon the balcony once more. Guiltily she searched the night through the fine drizzling rain; her ears listened eagerly for the tread which was so well known to her.
At last he strode beneath a lamp not far away. He looked up, but, of course, could not see her against the dark wall. For a long time he stood motionless beneath the light. She could not help seeing that he was dejected, tired, unhappy. His shoulders drooped, and there as a general air of listlessness about the figure which had once been so full of courage and of hope. The post light fell directly upon his face. It was somber, despondent, strained. He wore the air of a prisoner. Her heart went out to him like a flash. The debonair knight of the black patch was no more; in his place there stood a sullen slave to discipline.
"Baldos!" she called softly, her voice penetrating the dripping air with the clearness of a bell. He must have been longing for the sound of it, for he started and looked eagerly in her direction. His tall form straightened as he passed his hand over his brow. It was but a voice from his dream, he thought. "Aren't you afraid you'll get wet?" asked the same low, sweet voice, with the suggestion of a laugh behind it. With long strides he crossed the pavement and stood almost directly beneath her.
"Your highness!" he exclaimed gently, joyously. "What are you doing out there?"
"Wondering, Baldos—wondering what you were thinking of as you stood under the lamp over there."
"I was thinking of your highness," he called up, softly.
"No, no!" she protested.