"With you in their hands, Graustark would be utterly helpless. Volga could demand anything she liked, and your ministry would be forced to submit."
"I really think it would be a capital joke on the Princess Volga," mused Beverly reflectively. He did not know what she meant, but regarded her soft smile as the clear title to the serenity of a princess.
She sank back and gave herself over to the complications that were likely to grow out of her involuntary deception. The one thing which worried her more than all others was the fear that Yetive might not be in Edelweiss. According to all reports, she had lately been in St. Petersburg and the mere fact that she was supposed to be traveling by coach was sufficient proof that she was not at her capital. Then there was, of course, the possibility of trouble on the road with the Axphain scouts, but Beverly enjoyed the optimism of youth and civilization.
Baldos, the goat-hunter, was dreamily thinking of the beautiful young woman at his side and of the queer freak Fortune had played in bringing them together. As he studied her face he could not but lament that marriage, at least, established a barrier between her and the advances his bold heart might otherwise be willing to risk. His black hair straggled down over his forehead and his dark eyes—the patch had been surreptitiously lifted—were unusually pensive.
"It is strange that you live in Graustark and have not seen its princess—before," she said, laying groundwork for enquiry concerning the acts and whereabouts of the real princess.
"May it please your highness, I have not lived long in Graustark. Besides, it is said that half the people of Ganlook have never looked upon your face."
"I'm not surprised at that. The proportion is much smaller than I imagined. I have not visited Ganlook, strange as it may seem to you."
"One of my company fell in with some of your guards from the Ganlook garrison day before yesterday. He learned that you were to reach that city within forty-eight hours. A large detachment of men has been sent to meet you at Labbot."
"Oh, indeed," said Beverly, very much interested.
"They must have been misinformed as to your route—or else your Russian escort decided to take you through by the lower and more hazardous way. It was our luck that you came by the wrong road. Otherwise we should not have met each other—and the lion," he said, smiling reflectively.