"Be still, Aunt Fanny!" commanded Beverly, with a fine show of
courage. "You must be brave. Don't you see we can't turn back? It's just
as dangerous and a heap sight more so. If we let on we're not one bit
afraid they'll respect us, don't you see, and men never harm women whom
they respect."
"Umph!" grunted Aunt Fanny, with exaggerated irony.
"Well, they never do!" maintained Beverly, who was not at all sure about
it. "And they look like real nice men--honest men, even though they have
such awful whiskers."
"Dey's de wust trash Ah eveh did see," exploded Aunt Fanny.
"Sh! Don't let them hear you," whispered Beverly.
In spite of her terror and perplexity, she was compelled to smile. It
was all so like the farce comedies one sees at the theatre.
As the officer rode up, his face was pale in the shadowy light of the
afternoon and he was plainly nervous.
"What is the latest news from the front?" she inquired cheerfully.
"The men refuse to ride on," he exclaimed, speaking rapidly, making it
still harder for her to understand. "Our advance guard has met a party
of hunters from Axphain. They insist that you--'the fine lady in the
coach'--are the Princess Yetive, returning from a secret visit to
St. Petersburg, where you went to plead for assistance from the Czar."
Beverly Calhoun gasped in astonishment. It was too incredible to
believe. It was actually ludicrous. She laughed heartily. "How perfectly
absurd."
"I am well aware that you are not the Princess Yetive," he continued
emphatically; "but what can I do; the men won't believe me. They swear
they have been tricked and are panic-stricken over the situation. The
hunters tell them that the Axphain authorities, fully aware of the
hurried flight of the Princess through these wilds, are preparing to
intercept her. A large detachment of soldiers are already across the
Graustark frontier. It is only a question of time before the 'red legs'
will be upon them. I have assured them that their beautiful charge is
not the Princess, but an American girl, and that there is no mystery
about the coach and escort. All in vain. The Axphain guides already feel
that their heads are on the block; while as for the Cossacks, not even
my dire threats of the awful anger of the White Czar, when he finds they
have disobeyed his commands, will move them."
"Speak to your men once more, sir, and promise them big purses of gold
when we reach Ganlook. I have no money or valuables with me; but there I
can obtain plenty," said Beverly, shrewdly thinking it better that they
should believe her to be without funds.