"I have longed so to hold you in my arms, Beverly--even when you were a princess and I lay in the hospital at Ganlook, my fevered arms hungered for you. There never has been a moment that my heart has not been reaching out in search of yours. You have glorified me, dearest, by the promise you made a week ago. I know that you will not renounce that precious pledge. It is in your eyes now--the eyes I shall worship to the end of eternity. Tell me, though, with your own lips, your own voice, that you will be my wife, mine to hold forever."

For answer she placed her arms about his neck and buried her face against his shoulder. There were tears in her gray eyes and there was a sob in her throat. He held her close to his breast for an eternity, it seemed to both, neither giving voice to the song their hearts were singing. There was no other world than the fairy grotto.

"Sweetheart, I am asking you to make a great sacrifice," he said at last, his voice hoa.r.s.e but tender. She looked up into his face serenely. "Can you give up the joys, the wealth, the comforts of that home across the sea to share a lowly cottage with me and my love? Wait, dear,--do not speak until I am through. You must think of what your friends will say. The love and life I offer you now will not be like that which you always have known. It will be poverty and the dregs, not riches and wine. It will be--"

But she placed her hand upon his lips, shaking her head emphatically. The picture he was painting was the same one that she had studied for days and days. Its every shadow was familiar to her, its every unwholesome corner was as plain as day.

"The rest of the world may think what it likes, Paul," she said. "It will make no difference to me. I have awakened from my dream. My dream prince is gone, and I find that it's the real man that I love. What would you have me do? Give you up because you are poor? Or would you have me go up the ladder of fame and prosperity with you, a humble but adoring burden? I know you, dear. You will not always be poor. They may say what they like. I have thought long and well, because I am not a fool. It is the American girl who marries the t.i.tled foreigner without love that is a fool. Marrying a poor man is too serious a business to be handled by fools. I have written to my father, telling him that I am going to marry you," she announced. He gasped with unbelief.

"You have--already?" he cried.

"Of course. My mind has been made up for more than a week. I told it to Aunt f.a.n.n.y last night."

"And she?"

"She almost died, that's all," said she unblushingly. "I was afraid to cable the news to father. He might stop me if he knew it in time. A letter was much smarter."

"You dear, dear little sacrifice," he cried tenderly. "I will give all my life to make you happy."

"I am a soldier's daughter, and I can be a soldier's wife. I have tried hard to give you up, Paul, but I couldn't. You are love's soldier, dear, and it is a--a relief to surrender and have it over with."

They fell to discussing plans for the future. It all went smoothly and airily until he asked her when he should go to Washington to claim her as his wife. She gave him a startled, puzzled look.

"To Washington?" she murmured, turning very cold and weak. "You--you won't have to go to Washington, dear; I'll stay here."

"My dear Beverly, I can afford the trip," he laughed. "I am not an absolute pauper. Besides, it is right and just that your father should give you to me. It is the custom of our land." She was nervous and uncertain.

"But--but, Paul, there are many things to think of," she faltered.

"You mean that your father would not consent?"

"Well,--he--he might be unreasonable," she stammered. "And then there are my brothers, Keith and Dan. They are foolishly interested in me.

Dan thinks no one is good enough for me. So does Keith. And father, too, for that matter,--and mother. You see, it's not just as if you were a grand and wealthy n.o.bleman. They may not understand. We are southerners, you know. Some of them have peculiar ideas about--"

"Don't distress yourself so much, dearest," he said with a laugh. "Though I see your position clearly--and it is not an enviable one."

"We can go to Washington just as soon as we are married," she compromised. "Father has a great deal of influence over there. With his help behind you you will soon be a power in the United--" but his hearty laugh checked her eager plotting. "It's nothing to laugh at, Paul," she said.

"I beg your pardon a thousand times. I was thinking of the disappointment I must give you now. I cannot live in the United States--never. My home is here. I am not born for the strife of your land. They have soldiers enough and better than I. It is in the turbulent east that we shall live--you and I." Tears came into her eyes.

"Am I not to--to go back to Washin'ton?" She tried to smile.

"When Prince Dantan says we may, perhaps."

"Oh, he is my friend," she cried in great relief. "I can get any favor I ask of him. Oh, Paul, Paul, I know that my folks will think I'm an awful fool, but I can't help it. I shall let you know that I intend to be a blissful one, at least."

He kissed her time and again, out there in the dark, soft light of the fairy grotto.

"Before we can be married, dearest, I have a journey of some importance to take," he announced, as they arose to leave the bower behind.

"A journey? Where?"

"To Vienna. I have an account to settle with a man who has just taken up his residence there." His hand went to his sword-hilt and his dark eyes gleamed with the fire she loved. "Count Marlanx and I have postponed business to attend to, dearest. Have no fear for me. My sword is honest and I shall bring it back to you myself."

She shuddered and knew that it would be as he said.

CHAPTER x.x.xI

CLEAR SKIES

The Duke of Matz and his a.s.sociates reached Edelweiss in the afternoon.

Their attendants and servants carried luggage bearing the princely crest of Dawsbergen, and meant for Prince Dantan and his sister Candace. In the part of the castle set apart for the visitors an important consultation was held behind closed doors. There Dantan met his countrymen and permitted them to renew the pledge of fealty that had been shattered by the overpowering influence of his mad half-brother. What took place at this secret meeting the outside world never knew. Only the happy result was made known. Prince Dantan was to resume his reign over Dawsbergen, as if it never had been interrupted.

The castle, brilliant from bottom to top, filled with music and laughter, experienced a riot of happiness such as it had not known in years. The war clouds had lifted, the sunshine of contentment was breaking through the darkness, and there was rejoicing in the hearts of all. Bright and glorious were the colors that made up the harmony of peace. Men and women of high degree came to the historic old walls, garbed in the riches of royalty and n.o.bility. To Beverly Calhoun it was the most enchanting sight she had ever looked upon. From the galleries she gazed down into the halls glittering with the wealth of Graustark and was conscious of a strange feeling of glorification. She felt that she had a part in this jubilee. With Candace she descended the grand staircase and mingled with the resplendent crowd.

She was the center of attraction. Dressed in a simple, close-fitting gown of black velvet, without an ornament, her white arms and shoulders gleaming in the soft light from the chandeliers, she was an enticing creature to be admired by men and women alike. Two stalwart Americans felt their hearts bound with pride as they saw the conquest their countrywoman was making. Candace, her constant companion in these days, was consumed with delight.

"You are the prettiest thing in all this world," she ecstatically whispered into Beverly's ear. "My brother says so, too," she added conclusively. Beverly was too true a woman not to revel in this subtle flattery.

The great banquet hall was to be thrown open at midnight. There was dancing and song during the hours leading up to this important event. Beverly was entranced. She had seen brilliant affairs at home, but none of them compared to this in regal splendor. It was the sensuous, overpowering splendor of the east.

Prince Dantan joined the throng just before midnight. He made his way direct to the little circle of which Beverly and Candace formed the center. His rich, full military costume gave him a new distinction that quite overcame Beverly. They fell into an animated conversation, exchanging shafts of wit that greatly amused those who could understand the language.

"You must remember," Beverly said in reply to one of Ravone's sallies, "that Americans are not in the least awed by Europe's greatness. It has come to the pa.s.s when we call Europe our playground. We now go to Europe as we go to the circus or the county fair at home. It isn't much more trouble, you know, and we must see the sights."

"Alas, poor Europe!" he laughed. As he strolled about with her and Candace he pointed out certain men to her, asking her to tax her memory in the effort to recall their faces if not their apparel. She readily recognized in the lean, tired faces the men she had met first at the Inn of the Hawk and Raven.

"They were vagabonds then, Miss Calhoun. Now they are n.o.blemen. Does the transition startle you?"

"Isn't Baldos among them?" she asked, voicing the query that had been uppermost in her mind since the moment when she looked down from the galleries and failed to see him. She was wondering how he would appear in court costume.

"You forget that Baldos is only a guard," he said kindly.

"He is a courtier, nevertheless," she retorted.

She was vaguely disappointed because he was missing from the scene of splendor. It proved to her that caste overcame all else In the rock-ribbed east. The common man, no matter how valiant, had no place in such affairs as these. Her pride was suffering. She was as a queen among the n.o.blest of the realm. As the wife of Baldos she would live in another world--on the outskirts of this one of splendor and arrogance.

A stubborn, defiant little frown appeared on her brow as she pictured herself in her mind's eye standing afar off with "the man" Baldos, looking at the opulence she could not reach. Her impetuous, rebellious little heart was thumping bitterly as she considered this single phase of the life to come. She was ready to cry out against the injustice of it all. The little frown was portentous of deep-laid designs. She would break down this cruel barrier that kept Baldos from the fields over which prejudice alone held sway. Her love for him and her determination to be his wife were not in the least dulled by these reflections.

The doors to the great banquet-hall were thrown open at last and in the disorder that followed she wondered who was to lead her to the feasting. The Duke of Mizrox claimed the Princess Candace.

"I am to have the honor," said someone at her side, and the voice was the one she least expected to hear utter the words. The speaker was the man who deserved the place beside Yetive--Prince Dantan himself.

Bewildered, her heart palpitating with various emotions, she took his arm and allowed herself to be drawn wonderingly through the ma.s.sive doors. As they entered, followed by the brilliant company, the superb orchestra that Beverly had so often enjoyed, began to play the stirring "Hands Across the Sea." The musicians themselves seemed to have caught the universal feeling of joy and mirth that was in the air, and played as if inspired, their leader bowing low to the young American girl as she pa.s.sed. It was his affectionate tribute to her. Prince Dantan, to her amazement, led her up the entire length of the banquet hall, to the head of the royal table, gorgeous with the plate of a hundred Graustark rulers, placing her on his left and next to the slightly raised royal chairs. Candace was on his right, the picture of happiness. Beverly felt dizzy, weak. She looked helplessly at Prince Dantan. His smile was puzzling. As if in a daze, she saw Grenfall Lorry with the Countess Yvonne standing exactly opposite to her, he with the others, awaiting the appearance of the princess and the one who was to sit beside her.