His courage, his cool impudence, his subtle wit charmed her more than

she could express. Now she was beginning to study him from a standpoint

peculiarly and selfishly her own. Where recently she had sung his

praises to Yetive and others, she now was strangely reticent. She was to

understand another day why this change had come over her. Stories of his

cleverness came to her ears from Lorry and Anguish and even from

Dangloss. She was proud, vastly proud of him in these days. The Iron

Count alone discredited the ability and the conscientiousness of the

"mountebank," as he named the man who had put his nose out of

joint. Beverly, seeing much of Marlanx, made the mistake of chiding him

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frankly and gaily about this aversion. She even argued the guard's case

before the head of the army, imprudently pointing out many of his

superior qualities in advocating his cause. The count was learning

forbearance in his old age. He saw the wisdom of procrastination. Baldos

was in favor, but someday there would come a time for his undoing.

In the barracks he was acquiring fame. Reports went forth with unbiased

freedom. He established himself as the best swordsman in the service, as

well as the most efficient marksman. With the foils and sabers he easily

vanquished the foremost fencers in high and low circles. He could ride

like a Cossack or like an American cowboy. Of them all, his warmest

admirer was Haddan, the man set to watch him for the secret service. It

may be timely to state that Haddan watched in vain.

The princess, humoring her own fancy as well as Beverly's foibles, took

to riding with her high-spirited young guest on many a little jaunt to

the hills. She usually rode with Lorry or Anguish, cheerfully assuming

the subdued position befitting a lady-in-waiting apparently restored to

favor on probation. She enjoyed Beverly's unique position. In order to

maintain her attitude as princess, the fair young deceiver was obliged

to pose in the extremely delectable attitude of being Lorry's wife.

"How can you expect the paragon to make love to you, dear, if he thinks

you are another man's wife?" Yetive asked, her blue eyes beaming with

the fun of it all.

"Pooh!" sniffed Beverly. "You have only to consult history to find the

excuse. It's the dear old habit of men to make love to queens and get

beheaded for it. Besides, he is not expected to make love to me. How in

the world did you get that into your head?"

On a day soon after the return of Lorry and Anguish from a trip to the

frontier, Beverly expressed a desire to visit the monastery of

St. Valentine, high on the mountain top. It was a long ride over the

circuitous route by which the steep incline was avoided and it was

necessary for the party to make an early start. Yetive rode with Harry

Anguish and his wife the countess, while Beverly's companion was the

gallant Colonel Quinnox. Baldos, relegated to the background, brought up

the rear with Haddan.




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