Soon the people of the city began to recognize the fair American girl

who was a guest in the castle, and a certain amount of homage was paid

to her. When she rode or drove in the streets, with her attendant

soldiers, the people bowed as deeply and as respectfully as they did to

the princess herself, and Beverly was just as grand and gracious as if

she had been born with a sceptre in her hand.

The soft moonlight nights charmed her with a sense of rapture never

known before. With the castle brilliantly illuminated, the halls and

drawing-rooms filled with gay courtiers, the harpists at their posts,

the military band playing in the parade ground, the balconies and

porches offering their most inviting allurements, it is no wonder that

Beverly was entranced. War had no terrors for her. If she thought of it

at all, it was with the fear that it might disturb the dream into which

she had fallen. True, there was little or nothing to distress the most

timid in these first days. The controversy between the principalities

was at a standstill, although there was not an hour in which

preparations for the worst were neglected. To Beverly Calhoun, it meant

little when sentiment was laid aside; to Yetive and her people this

probable war with Dawsbergen meant everything.

Dangloss, going back and forth between Edelweiss and the frontier north

of Ganlook, where the best of the police and secret service watched with

the sleepless eyes of the lynx, brought unsettling news to the

ministry. Axphain troops were engaged in the annual maneuvers just

across the border in their own territory. Usually these were held in the

plains near the capital, and there was a sinister significance in the

fact that this year they were being carried on in the rough southern

extremity of the principality, within a day's march of the Graustark

line, fully two months earlier than usual. The doughty baron reported

that foot, horse and artillery were engaged in the drills, and that

fully 8,000 men were massed in the south of Axphain. The fortifications

of Ganlook, Labbot and other towns in northern Graustark were

strengthened with almost the same care as those in the south, where

conflict with Dawsbergen might first be expected. General Marlanx and

his staff rested neither day nor night. The army of Graustark was

ready. Underneath the castle's gay exterior there smouldered the fire of

battle, the tremor of defiance.

Late one afternoon Beverly Calhoun and Mrs. Anguish drove up in state to

the Tower, wherein sat Dangloss and his watchdogs. The scowl left his

face as far as nature would permit and he welcomed the ladies warmly.

"I came to ask about my friend, the goat-hunter," said Beverly, her

cheeks a trifle rosier than usual.

"He is far from an amiable person, your highness," said the

officer. When discussing Baldos he never failed to address Beverly as

"your highness." "The fever is gone and he is able to walk without much

pain, but he is as restless as a witch. Following instructions, I have

not questioned him concerning his plans, but I fancy he is eager to

return to the hills."




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