Truxton King: A Story of Graustark - Part 51
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Part 51

Nightfall brought complete restoration of order, peace and security in the city of Edelweiss. Hundreds of lives had been lost in the terrific conflict of the early morning hours; hundreds of men lay on beds of suffering, crushed and bleeding from the wounds they had courted and received.

"I knowed we'd whip them," shouted the Prince, wriggling gleefully in John Tullis's straining embrace half an hour after the latter had ridden through the gate. Tears streamed down the big man's face. One arm held the boy, the other encircled the sister he had all but lost. In the Monastery of St. Valentine there was another woman, waiting for him to come to her with the news of a glorious victory. Perhaps she was hoping and praying for the other news that he would bring her, who knows? If he came to her with kisses, she would know without being told in so many words.

Truxton did not again see Loraine until late in the afternoon. He had offered his services to Colonel Quinnox and had worked manfully in the effort to provide comfort for the wounded of both sides. General Braze was at work with his men in the open city, clearing away the ugly signs of battle. The fortress and Tower were full of the prisoners of war.

Baron Dangloss, pale, emaciated, sick but resolute, was free once more and, with indomitable zeal, had thrown himself and his liberated men at once into the work of rehabilitation.

It was on the occasion of the Baron's first visit to the Prince, late in the day, that Truxton saw the girl he worshipped.

Prince Robin had sent for him to appear in the devastated state chamber.

Publicly, in the presence of the Court and Ministry, the little ruler proclaimed him a baron and presented to him a great seal ring from among the ancient crown jewels.

"Say, Mr. King," said Bobby, after he had called the American quite close to him by means of a stealthy crooking of his finger, "would you mind giving me my lucky stone? I don't think you'll need it any longer.

I will, I'm sure. You see a prince has such a lot of things to trouble him. Wars and murders and everything."

"Thank you, Prince Robin," said King, placing the stone in the little hand. "I couldn't have got on without it. May it always serve you as well."

"n.o.blesse oblige, Baron," said Prince Robin gravely.

"h.e.l.lo!" in an excited whisper. "Here's Baron Dangloss. He's been in his own gaol!"

Truxton withdrew. Near the door he met Loraine. She had just entered the room. There was a bright look of relief in her eyes.

"Count Vos Engo has asked for you, Truxton," she said in a low voice. A delicate flush crept into her cheeks; a sudden shyness leaped into her eyes, and she looked away.

"Loraine, have you told him?"

"Yes. I am so sorry for him. He is one of the bravest men I have ever known, Truxton dear. And, as it is with all men of his race, love knew no reason, no compromise. But I have made him see that I--that I cannot be his wife. He knows that I love you."

"Somehow, darling, I'm sorry for him."

"He will not pretend friendship for you, dear," she went on painfully.

"He only wants to thank you and to apologise, as you did, not so long ago. And he wants to ask you to release him from a certain obligation."

"You mean our--our fight?"

"Yes. He is to lose his right arm, Truxton. You understand how it is with him now."

CHAPTER XXIII

"YOU WILL BE MRS. KING"

Late that night it was reported at the Castle that a large force of men were encamped on the opposite side of the river. A hundred camp-fires were gleaming against the distant uplands.

"The Grand Duke Paulus!" exclaimed Count Halfont. "Thank G.o.d, he did not come a day earlier. We owe him nothing to-day--but yesterday! Ah, he could have demanded much of us. Send his messengers to me, Colonel Quinnox, as soon as they arrive in the morning. I will arise early.

There is much to do in Graustark. Let there be no sluggards."

A mellow, smiling moon crept up over the hills, flooding the laud with a serene radiance. Once more the windows in the Castle gleamed brightly; low-voiced people strolled through the shattered balconies; others wandered about the vast halls, possessed by uncertain emotions, torn by the conflicting hands of joy and gloom. In a score of rooms wounded men were lying; in others there were dead heroes. At the barracks, standing dully against the distant shadows, there were many cots of suffering.

And yet there was rejoicing, even among those who writhed in pain or bowed their heads in grief. Victory's wings were fanning the gloom away; conquest was painting an ever-widening streak of brightness across the dark, drear canvas of despair.

In one of the wrecked approaches to the terrace, surrounded by fragments of stone and confronted by ugly destruction, sat a young man and a slender girl. There were no lights near them; the shadows were black and forbidding. This particular end of the terrace had suffered most in the fierce rain of cannon-b.a.l.l.s. So great was the devastation here that one attained the position held by the couple only by means of no little daring and at the risk of unkind falls. From where they sat they could see the long vista of lighted windows and yet could not themselves be seen.

His arm was about her; her head nestled securely against his shoulder and her slim hands were willing prisoners in one of his.

She was saying "Truxton, dear, I did _not_ love Eric Vos Engo. I just thought it was love. I never really knew what love is until you came into my life. Then I knew the difference. That's what made it so hard. I had let him believe that I might care for him some day. And I _did_ like him. So I--"

"You are sure--terribly sure--that I am the only man you ever really loved?" he interrupted.

She snuggled closer. "Haven't I just told you that I didn't know what it was until--well, until now?"

"You will never, never know how happy I am, Loraine!" he breathed into her ear.

"I hope I shall always bring happiness to you, Truxton," she murmured, faint with the joy of loving.

"You will make me very unhappy if you don't marry me to-morrow."

"I couldn't think of it!"

"I don't ask you to think. If you do, you may change your mind completely. Just marry me without thinking, dearest."

"I will marry you, Truxton, when we get to New York," she said, but not very firmly. He saw his advantage.

"But, my dear, I'm tired of travelling."

It was rather enigmatic. "What has that to do with it?" she asked.

"Well, it's this way: if we get married in New York we'll have to consider an extended and wholly obligatory wedding journey. If we get married here, we can save all that bother by bridal-tripping to New York, instead of away from it. And, what's more, we'll escape the rice-throwing and the old shoes and the hand-painted trunk labels.

Greater still: we will avoid a long and lonely trip across the ocean on separate steamers. That's something, you know."

"We _could_ go on the same steamer."

"Quite so, my dear. But don't you think it would be nicer if we went as one instead of two?"

"I suppose it would be cheaper."

"They say a fellow saves money by getting married."

"I hate a man who is always trying to save money."

"Well, if you put it that way, I'll promise never to save a cent. I'm a horrible spendthrift."

"Oh, you'll have to save, Truxton!"

"How silly we are!" he cried in utter joyousness. He held her close for a long time, his face buried in her hair. "Listen, darling: won't you say you'll be my wife before I leave Graustark? I want you so much. I can't go away without you."