While they were waiting for Marlanx the young Duke of Mizrox was announced. The handsome Axphainian came with relief and dismay struggling for mastery in his face.
"Your highness," he said, after the greetings, "I am come to inform you that Graustark has one prince less to account for. Axphain has found her fugitive."
"When?" cried the princess and Beverly in one voice and with astonishing eagerness, not unmixed with dismay.
"Three days ago," was the reply.
"Oh," came in deep relief from Beverly as she sank back into her chair. The same fear had lodged in the hearts of the two fair conspirators—that they had freed Baldos only to have him fall into the hands of his deadliest foes.
"I have a message by courier from my uncle in Axphain," said Mizrox. "He says that Frederic was killed near Labbot by soldiers, after making a gallant fight, on last Sunday night. The Princess Volga is rejoicing, and has amply rewarded his slayers. Poor Frederic! He knew but little happiness, in this life."
There was a full minute of reflection before any of his hearers expressed the thought that had framed itself in every mind.
"Well, since Dantan and Frederic are accounted for, Baldos is absolutely obliged to be Christobal," said Anguish resignedly.
"He's just Baldos," observed Beverly, snuffing out the faint hope that had lingered so long. Then she said to herself: "And I don't care, either. I only wish he were back here again. I'd be a good deal nicer to him."
Messengers flew back and forth, carrying orders from the castle to various quarters. The ministers were called to meet at twelve o'clock. Underneath all the bustle there was a tremendous impulse of American cunning, energy and resourcefulness. Everyone caught the fever. Reserved old diplomats were overwhelmed by their own enthusiasm; custom-bound soldiers forgot the hereditary caution and fell into the ways of the new leaders without a murmur. The city was wild with excitement, for all believed that the war was upon them. There was but one shadow overhanging the glorious optimism of Graustark—the ugly, menacing attitude of Axphain. Even the Duke of Mizrox could give no assurance that his country would remain neutral.