"I fear I have killed more than one man," he said in low tones. Again she shrank into the corner of the coach. "History says that your father was a brave soldier and fought in many battles," he went on.
"Yes," she said, thinking of Major George Calhoun.
"He killed men then, perhaps, as I have killed them," he said.
"Oh, my father never killed a man!" cried Beverly, in devout horror.
"Yet Graustark reveres his mighty prowess on the field of battle," said he, half laconically.
"Oh," she murmured, remembering that she was now the daughter of Yetive's father. "I see. You are not a—a—a mere murderer, then?"
"No. I have been a soldier—that is all."
"Thank heaven!" she murmured, and was no longer afraid of him. "Would—would a pardon be of any especial benefit to you?" she asked, wondering how far her influence might go with the Princess Yetive.
"It is beyond your power to help me," he said gravely. She was silent, but it was the silence of deep reflection. "Your highness left the castle ten days ago," he said, dismissing himself as a subject for conversation. "Have you kept in close communication with Edelweiss during that time?"
"I know nothing of what is going on there," she said, quite truthfully. She only knew that she had sent a message to the Princess Yetive, apprising her of her arrival In St. Petersburg and of her intention to leave soon for the Graustark capital.