"But my friends in the pass, your highness," he said in surrendering,
"what is to become of them? They are waiting for me out there in the
wilderness. I am not base enough to desert them."
"Can't you get word to them?" she asked eagerly. "Let them come into the
city, too. We will provide for the poor fellows, believe me."
"That, at least, is impossible, your highness," he said, shaking his
head sadly. "You will have to slay them before you can bring them within
the city gates. My only hope is that Franz may be here tonight. He has
permission to enter, and I am expecting him to-day or to-morrow."
"You can send word to them that you are sound and safe and you can tell
them that Graustark soldiers shall be instructed to pay no attention to
them whatever. They shall not be disturbed." He laughed outright at her
enthusiasm. Many times during her eager conversation with Baldos she had
almost betrayed the fact that she was not the princess. Some of her
expressions were distinctly unregal and some of her slips were hopeless,
as she viewed them in retrospect.
"What am I? Only the humble goat-hunter, hunted to death and eager for a
short respite. Do with me as you like, your highness. You shall be my
princess and sovereign for six months, at least," he said,
sighing. "Perhaps it is for the best."
"You are the strangest man I've ever seen," she remarked, puzzled beyond
expression.
That night Franz appeared at the hospital and was left alone with Baldos
for an hour or more. What passed between them, no outsider knew, though
there tears in the eyes of both at the parting. But Franz did not start
for the pass that night, as they had expected. Strange news had come to
the ears of the faithful old follower and he hung about Ganlook until
morning came, eager to catch the ear of his leader before it was too
late.
The coach was drawn up in front of the hospital at eight o'clock,
Beverly triumphant in command. Baldos came down the steps slowly,
carefully, favoring the newly healed ligaments in his legs. She smiled
cheerily at him and he swung his rakish hat low. There was no sign of
the black patch. Suddenly he started and peered intently into the little
knot of people near the coach. A look of anxiety crossed his face. From
the crowd advanced a grizzled old beggar who boldly extended his
hand. Baldos grasped the proffered hand and then stepped into the
coach. No one saw the bit of white paper that passed from Franz's palm
into the possession of Baldos. Then the coach was off for Edelweiss, the
people of Ganlook enjoying the unusual spectacle of a mysterious and
apparently undistinguished stranger sitting in luxurious ease beside a
fair lady in the royal coach of Graustark.