"Prince Gabriel is the very essence of trouble," confessed Yetive,

plaintively." He was born to annoy people, just like the evil prince in

the fairy tales."

"I wish we had him over here," the American girl answered stoutly. "He

wouldn't be such a trouble I'm sure. We don't let small troubles worry

us very long, you know."

"But he's dreadfully important over there, Beverly; that's the difficult

part of it," said Yetive, solemnly." You see, he is a condemned

murderer."

"Then, you ought to hang him or electrocute him or whatever it is that

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you do to murderers over there," promptly spoke Beverly.

"But, dear, you don't understand. He won't permit us either to hang or

to electrocute him, my dear. The situation is precisely the reverse, if

he is correctly quoted by my uncle. When Uncle Caspar sent an envoy to

inform Dawsbergen respectfully that Graustark would hold it personally

responsible if Gabriel were not surrendered, Gabriel himself replied:

'Graustark be hanged!'"

"How rude of him, especially when your uncle was so courteous about

it. He must be a very disagreeable person," announced Miss Calhoun.

"I am sure you wouldn't like him," said the princess. "His brother, who

has been driven from the throne--and from the capital, in fact--is quite

different. I have not seen him, but my ministers regard him as a

splendid young man."

"Oh, how I hope he may go back with his army and annihilate that old

Gabriel!" cried Beverly, frowning fiercely.

"Alas," sighed the princess, "he hasn't an army, and besides he is

finding it extremely difficult to keep from being annihilated

himself. The army has gone over to Prince Gabriel."

"Pooh!" scoffed Miss Calhoun, who was thinking of the enormous armies

the United States can produce at a day's notice. "What good is a

ridiculous little army like his, anyway? A battalion from Fort Thomas

could beat it to--"

"Don't boast, dear," interrupted Yetive, with a wan smile. "Dawsbergen

has a standing army of ten thousand excellent soldiers. With the war

reserves she has twice the available force I can produce."

"But your men are so brave," cried Beverly, who had heard their praises

sung.

"True, God bless them; but you forget that we must attack Gabriel in his

own territory. To recapture him means a perilous expedition into the

mountains of Dawsbergen, and I am sorely afraid. Oh, dear, I hope he'll

surrender peaceably!"

"And go back to jail for life?" cried Miss Calhoun. "It's a good deal to

expect of him, dear. I fancy it's much better fun kicking up a rumpus on

the outside than it is kicking one's toes off against an obdurate stone

wall from the inside. You can't blame him for fighting a bit."

"No--I suppose not," agreed the princess, miserably. "Gren is actually

happy over the miserable affair, Beverly. He is full of enthusiasm and

positively aching to be in Graustark--right in the thick of it all. To

hear him talk, one would think that Prince Gabriel has no show at

all. He kept me up till four o'clock this morning telling me that

Dawsbergen didn't know what kind of a snag it was going up against. I

have a vague idea what he means by that; his manner did not leave much

room for doubt. He also said that we would jolt Dawsbergen off the map.

It sounds encouraging, at least, doesn't it?"




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