"Father says the United States papers are full of awful war scares from
the Balkans. Are we a part of the Balkans, Yetive?" she asked of Yetive,
with a puzzled frown, emphasizing the pronoun unconsciously. "He says
I'm to come right off home. Says he'll not pay a nickel of ransom if the
brigands catch me, as they did Miss Stone and that woman who had the
baby. He says mother is worried half to death. I'm just going to cable
him that it's all off. Because he says if war breaks out he's going to
send my brother Dan over here to get me. I'm having Aunt Josephine send
him this cablegram from St. Petersburg: 'They never fight in
Balkans. Just scare each other. Skip headlines, father dear. Will be
home soon. Beverly.' How does that sound? It will cost a lot, but he
brought it upon his own head. And we're not in the Balkans, anyway. Aunt
Joe will have a fit. Please call an A. D. T. boy, princess. I want to
send this message to St. Petersburg."
When Candace entered the princess's boudoir half an hour later, she was
far from being the timid youth who first came to the notice of the
Graustark cabinet. She was now attired in one of Beverly's gowns, and it
was most becoming to her. Her short curly brown hair was done up
properly; her pink and white complexion was as clear as cream, now that
the dust of the road was gone; her dark eyes were glowing with the
wonder and interest of nineteen years, and she was, all in all, a most
enticing bit of femininity.
"You are much more of a princess now than when I first saw you," smiled
Yetive, drawing her down upon the cushions of the window-seat beside
her. Candace was shy and diffident, despite her proper habiliments.
"But she was such a pretty boy," protested Dagmar. "You don't know how
attractive you were in those--"
Candace blushed. "Oh, they were awful, but they were comfortable. One
has to wear trousers if one intends to be a vagabond. I wore them for
more than a week."
"You shall tell us all about it," said Yetive, holding the girl's hand
in hers. "It must have been a most interesting week for you."
"Oh, there is not much to tell, your highness," said Candace, suddenly
reticent and shy. "My step-brother--oh, how I hate him--had condemned
me to die because he thought I was helping Dantan. And I was
helping him, too,--all that I could. Old Bappo, master of the stables,
who has loved me for a hundred years, he says, helped me to escape from
the palace at night. They were to have seized me the next morning. Bappo
has been master of the stables for more than forty years. Dear old
Bappo! He procured the boy's clothing for me and his two sons
accompanied me to the hills, where I soon found my brother and his
men. We saw your scouts and talked to them a day or two after I became a
member of the band. Bappo's boys are with the band now. But my brother
Dantan shall tell you of that. I was so frightened I could not tell what
was going am. I have lived in the open air for a week, but I love it.
Dantan's friends are all heroes. You will love them. Yesterday old Franz
brought a message into the castle grounds. It told Captain Baldos of the
plan to seize Gabriel, who was in the hills near your city. Didn't you
know of that? Oh, we knew it two days ago. Baldos knew it yesterday. He
met us at four o'clock this morning;--that is part of us. I was sent on
with Franz so that I should not see bloodshed if it came to the
worst. We were near the city gates Baldos came straight to us. Isn't it
funny that you never knew all these things? Then at daybreak Baldos
insisted on bringing me here to await the news from the pass. It was
safer, and besides, he said he had another object in coming back at
once."