She allowed him to lead her to the darkened nook. In her soul she was

wondering why her tongue was so powerless. There were a hundred things

she wanted to say to him, but now that the moment had come she was

voiceless. She only could look helplessly at him. Joy seemed to be

paralyzed within her; it was as if she slept and could not be awakened.

As she sank upon the cushion he dropped to his knee before her, his hand

clasping hers with a fervor that thrilled her with life. As he spoke,

her pulses quickened and the blood began to race furiously.

"I have won your love, Beverly, by the fairest means. There has never

been an hour in which I have not been struggling for this glorious

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end. You gave yourself to me when you knew I could be nothing more than

the humblest soldier. It was the sacrifice of love. You will forgive my

presumption--my very insolence, dear one, when I tell you that my soul

is the forfeit I pay. It is yours through all eternity. I love you. I

can give you the riches of the world as well as the wealth of the

heart. The vagabond dies; your poor humble follower gives way to the

supplicating prince. You would have lived in a cot as the guardsman's

wife; you will take the royal palace instead?"

Beverly was herself again. The spell was gone. Her eyes swam with

happiness and love; the suffering her pride had sustained was swept into

a heap labeled romance, and she was rejoicing.

"I hated you to-night, I thought," she cried, taking his face in her

hands. "It looked as though you had played a trick on me. It was mean,

dear. I couldn't help thinking that you had used me as a plaything and

it--it made me furious. But it is different now. I see, oh, so

plainly. And just as I had resigned myself to the thought of spending

the rest of my life in a cottage, away outside the pale of this glorious

life! Oh, it is like a fairy tale!"

"Ah, but it was not altogether a trick, dear one. There was no assurance

that I could regain the throne--not until the very last. Without it I

should have been the beggar instead of the prince. We would have lived

in a hovel, after all. Fortune was with me, I deceived you for months,

Beverly--my Beverly, but it was for the best. In defense of my honor and

dignity, however, I must tell you that the princess has known for many

days that I am Dantan. I told her the truth when Christobal came that

day with the news. It was all well enough for me to pass myself off as a

vagabond, but it would have been unpardonable to foist him upon her as

the prince."




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