"I understand, Miss Calhoun. The play is over. You will find the
luckless vagabond a gentleman, after all. You ask me to desert the cause
I serve. That is enough. I shall go to-night."
The girl was near to surrender. Had it not been for the persistent fear
that her proud old father might suffer from her wilfulness, she would
have thrown down the barrier and risked everything in the choice. Her
heart was crying out hungrily for the love of this tall, mysterious
soldier of fortune.
"It is best," she murmured finally. Later on she was to know the meaning
of the peculiar smile he gave her.
"I go because you dismiss me, not because I fear an enemy. If you choose
to remember me at all, be just enough to believe that I am not a
shameless coward."
"You are brave and true and good, and I am a miserable, deceitful
wretch," she lamented. "You will seek Ravone and the others?"
"Yes. They are my friends. They love my poverty. And now, may it please
your highness, when am I to go forth and in what garb? I should no
longer wear the honest uniform of a Graustark guard."
"Leave it to me. Everything shall be arranged. You will be discreet? No
one is to know that I am your--"
"Rest assured, Miss Calhoun. I have a close mouth," and he smiled
contemptuously.
"I agree with you," said she regretfully. "You know how to hold your
tongue." He laughed harshly. "For once in a way, will you answer a
question?"
"I will not promise."
"You say that you are Dantan's friend. Is it true that he is to marry
the daughter of the Duke of Matz, Countess Iolanda?"
"It has been so reported."
"Is she beautiful?"
"Yes; exceedingly."
"But is he to marry her?" she insisted, she knew not why.
"How should I know, your highness?"
"If you call me 'your highness' again I'll despise you," she flared
miserably. "Another question. Is it true that the young Duke Christobal
fled because his father objected to his marriage with a game-warden's
daughter?"
"I have never heard so," with a touch of hauteur.
"Does he know that the girl is dead?" she asked cruelly. Baldos did not
answer for a long time. He stared at her steadily, his eyes expressing
no emotion from which she could judge him.
"I think he is ignorant of that calamity, Miss Calhoun," he said. "With
your permission, I shall withdraw. There is nothing to be gained by
delay." It was such a palpable affront that she shrank within herself
and could have cried.
Without answering, she walked unsteadily to the window and looked out
into the night. A mist came into her eyes. For many minutes she remained
there, striving to regain control of her emotions. All this time she
knew that he was standing just where she had left him, like a statue,
awaiting her command. At last she faced him resolutely.