But in spite of the rain she could not go to sleep. Vague fears began to
take possession of her. Something dreadful told her that Count Marlanx
was on the balcony and at her window, notwithstanding the rain pour. The
fear became oppressive, maddening. She felt the man's presence almost as
strongly as if he were in plain view. He was there, she knew it.
The little revolver that had served her so valiantly at the Inn of the
Hawk and Raven lay upon a stool near the bedside every night. Consumed
by the fear that the window might open slowly at any moment, she reached
forth and clutched the weapon. Then she shrank back in the bed, her eyes
fixed upon the black space across the room. For hours she shivered and
waited for the window to open, dozing away time and again only to come
back to wakefulness with a start.
The next morning she confessed to herself that her fears had been
silly. Her first act after breakfasting alone in her room was to seek
out Colonel Quinnox, commander of the castle guard. In her mind she was
greatly troubled over the fate of the bold visitor of the night
before. There was a warm, red glow in her face and a quick beat in her
heart as she crossed the parade-ground. Vagabond though he was, he had
conquered where princes had failed. Her better judgment told her that
she could be nothing to this debonair knight of the road, yet her heart
stubbornly resisted all the arguments that her reason put forth.
Colonel Quinnox was pleasant, but he could give Beverly no promise of
leniency in regard to Baldos. Instructions had come to him from General
Marlanx, and he could not set them aside at will. Her plea that he might
once more be assigned to old-time duties found the colonel regretfully
obdurate. Baldos could not ride with her again until Marlanx withdrew
the order which now obtained, Beverly swallowed her pride and resentment
diplomatically, smiled her sweetest upon the distressed colonel, and
marched defiantly back to the castle. Down in her rebellious, insulted
heart she was concocting all sorts of plans for revenge. Chief among
them was the terrible overthrow of the Iron Count. Her wide scope of
vengeance even contemplated the destruction of Graustark if her end
could be obtained in no other way.
Full of these bitter-sweet thoughts she came to the castle doors before
she saw who was waiting for her upon the great verandah. As she mounted
the steps, a preoccupied frown upon her fair brow, General Marlanx,
lean, crafty and confident, advanced to greet her. The early hour was
responsible for the bright solitude which marked the place. But few
signs of life were in evidence about the castle.
She stopped with a sharp exclamation of surprise. Then scorn and
indignation rushed in to fill the place of astonishment. She faced the
smiling old man with anger in her eyes.