Worse than anything else: was she devoting all of her time to Count Vos Engo?
Toward dusk on Monday, long after the arrival of the refugees, he sat in gloomy contemplation of his own unhappiness, darkly glowering upon the unfriendly portals from a distant stone bench.
A brisk guardsman separated himself from the knot of men at the Castle doors and crossed the Plaza toward him.
"Aha," thought Truxton warmly, "at last she is sending a message to me. Perhaps she's--no, she couldn't be sending for me to come to her."
Judge his dismay and anger when the soldier, a bit shamefaced himself, briefly announced that Count Vos Engo had issued an order against loitering in close proximity to the Castle. Mr. King was inside the limit described in the order. Would he kindly retire to a more distant spot, etc.
Truxton's cheek burned. He saw in an instant that the order was meant for him and for no one else--he being the only outsider likely to come under the head of "loiterer." A sharp glance revealed the fact that not only were the officers watching the little scene, but others in the balcony were looking on.
Resisting the impulse to argue the point, he hastily lifted his hat to the spectators and turned into the avenue without a word.
"I am sorry, sir," mentioned the guardsman earnestly.
Truxton turned to him with a frank smile, meant for the group at the steps. "Please tell Count Vos Engo that I am the last person in the world to disregard discipline at a time like this."
His glance again swept the balcony, suddenly becoming fixed on a couple near the third column. Count Vos Engo and Loraine Tullis were standing there together, unmistakably watching his humiliating departure. To say that Truxton swore softly as he hurried off through the trees would be unnecessarily charitable.
The next morning he encountered Vos Engo near the grotto. Two unsuccessful attempts to leave the Castle grounds had been made during the night. Truxton had aired his opinion to Mr. Hobbs after breakfast.
"I'll bet my head I could get away with it," he had said, doubly scornful because of a sleepless night. "They go about it like a lot of chumps. No wonder they are chased back."
Catching sight of Vos Engo, he hastened across the avenue and caught up to him. The Count was apparently deep in thought.
"Good morning," said Truxton from behind. The other whirled quickly. He did not smile as he eyed the tall American. "I haven't had a chance to thank you for coming back for me last Saturday. Allow me to say that it was a very brave thing to do. If I appeared ungrateful at the time, I'm sure you understood my motives."