"I don't see any especial reason why you should wear it after dark, do
you? There is no sunlight, I'm sure."
"I am dazzled, nevertheless," he retorted.
"Fiddlesticks!" she said. "This is a cave, not a drawing-room."
"In other words, I am a lout and not a courtier," he smiled. "Well, a
lout may look at a princess. We have no court etiquette in the hills, I
am sorry to say."
"That was very unkind, even though you said it most becomingly," she
protested. "You have called this pail a throne. Let us also imagine that
you are a courtier."
"You punish me most gently, your highness. I shall not forget my manners
again, believe me." He seemed thoroughly subdued.
"Then I shall expect you to remove that horrid black thing. It is
positively villainous. You look much better without it."
"Is it an edict or a compliment?" he asked with such deep gravity that
she flushed.
"It is neither," she answered. "You don't have to take it off unless you
want to--"
"In either event, it is off. You were right. It serves as a partial
disguise. I have many enemies and the black patch is a very good
friend."
"How perfectly lovely," cried Beverly. "Tell me all about it. I adore
stories about feuds and all that."
"Your husband is an American. He should be able to keep you well
entertained with blood-and-thunder stories," said he.
"My hus--What do you--Oh, yes!" gasped Beverly. "To be sure. I didn't
hear you, I guess. That was rather a severe clap of thunder, wasn't it?"
"Is that also a command?"
"What do you mean?"
"There was no thunderclap, you know."
"Oh, wasn't there?" helplessly.
"The storm is quite past. There is still a dash of rain in the air and
the wind may be dying hard, but aside from that I think the noise is
quite subdued."
"I believe you are right. How sudden it all was."
"There are several hours between this and dawn, your highness, and you
should try to get a little more sleep. Your cushions are dry and--"
"Very well, since you are so eager to get rid of--" began Beverly, and
then stopped, for it did not sound particularly regal. "I should have
said, you are very thoughtful. You will call me if I sleep late?"
"We shall start early, with your permission. It is forty miles to
Ganlook, and we must be half way there by nightfall."
"Must we spend another night like this?" cried Beverly, dolefully.
"Alas, I fear you must endure us another night. I am afraid, however, we
shall not find quarters as comfortable as these of the Hawk and Raven."
"I didn't mean to be ungrateful and--er--snippish," she said, wondering
if he knew the meaning of the word.