"It seems that all Edelweiss looks upon me as a prince in disguise. You

found me in the hills--"

"No; you found me. I have not forgotten, sir."

"I was a vagabond and a fugitive. My friends are hunted as I am. We have

no home. Why everyone should suspect me of being a prince I cannot

understand. Every roamer in the hills is not a prince. There is a price

upon my head, and there is a reward for the capture of every man who was

with me in the pass. My name is Paul Baldos, Miss Calhoun. There is no

mystery in that. If you were to mention it in a certain city, you would

quickly find that the name of Baldos is not unknown to the people who

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are searching for him. No, your highness, I regret exceedingly that I

must destroy the absurd impression that I am of royal blood. Perhaps I

am spoiling a pretty romance, but it cannot be helped. I was Baldos, the

goat-hunter; I am now Baldos, the guard. Do you think that I would be

serving as a Graustark guard if I were any one of the men you mention?"

Beverly listened in wonder and some disappointment, it must be

confessed. Somehow a spark of hope was being forever extinguished by

this straightforward denial. He was not to be the prince she had seen in

dreams. "You are not like anyone else," she said." That is why we

thought of you as--as--as--"

"As one of those unhappy creatures they call princes? Thank fortune,

your highness, I am not yet reduced to such straits. My exile will come

only when you send me away."

They were silent for a long time. Neither was thinking of the hour, or

the fact that her absence in the castle could not be unnoticed. Night

had fallen heavily upon the earth. The two faithful chair-bearers,

respectful but with wonder in their souls, stood afar off and

waited. Baldos and Beverly were alone in their own little world.

"I think I liked you better when you wore the red feather and that

horrid patch of black," she said musingly.

"And was a heart-free vagabond," he added, something imploring in his

voice.

"An independent courtier, if you please, sir," she said severely.

"Do you want me to go back to the hills? I have the patch and the

feather, and my friends are--"

"No! Don't suggest such a thing--yet." She began the protest eagerly and

ended it in confusion.

"Alas, you mean that some day banishment is not unlikely?"

"You don't expect to be a guard all your life, do you?"

"Not to serve the princess of Graustark, I confess. My aim is much

higher. If God lets me choose the crown I would serve, I shall enlist

for life. The crown I would serve is wrought of love, the throne I would

kneel before is a heart, the sceptre I would follow is in the slender

hand of a woman. I could live and die in the service of my own

choosing. But I am only the humble goat-hunter whose hopes are phantoms,

whose ideals are conceived in impotence."




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