"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.

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"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.




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