The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 22, 1901, Page 19

CHAPTER XX-—Continued. THE APPROACHING ORDEAL. ITHIN a very few minutes after they had been conducted to tha chamber by Count Halfont and other dignitaries the fair ruler came into the room and ad- vanced between the bowing lines of courtiers to the spot where sat the man who held Graustark in his grasp. A slender, graceful figure in black, prouvd and serious, she walked un- hesita side. If she feared him, if she was impressed by his power, she @id mot show it. The little had two stars of equal magnitude, neitaer of whom acknowledged supremacy in the other. Bolaroz arose as she drew mnear, his unt face black and unfriendly. She ex- tended her hand graciously, and he, a Prince for all his wrath, touched his trembling lips to its white, smooth back. “I come in grief and safiness to.your court, most glorious Yetive. My burden of sorrow is greater than I can bear,” he said, hoarsely. “Would that I could give you consola- tion,” she said, sitting in the chair re- served for her use at council gatherings. “Alas! it grieves me than I can offer nothing more than words.” “You are the one he would have made his wife.” sald the old Prince, sitting be- side her. He looked into her deep blue eyes and tears sprung to his own. His voice failed him, and long moments passed before he could control his emotion. Truly she pitied him in his bereavement. Then followed & formal discussion of the crime and the arrangement of details in connection with the removal of the dead Prince fron. Graustark to his own land. These matters settled, Bolaroz said that he had heard of the murderer's escape and asked what effort was being made to recapture him. Yetive related all that had happened, expressing humiliation over the fact that her officers had been unable to accomplish anything, adding that she 4id not believe the fugitive could get away from Graustark safely without her knowledge. The old Prince was working Jrimself back into the violent rage that had been temporarily subdued, and at last broke out in a vicious denunciation of the relessness that had allowed the man to escape. He first insisted that Dangloss and his incompetent assistants be thrown into prison for life or executed for crim- inal negligence: then he demanded the life of Harry Anguish as an aider and abettor in the flight of the murderer. In both cases the Princess firmly refused to take She warmly de- ngloss and his men, and an » no uncertain tones that ot order the arrest of the remain- can. Then she acquainted him r intention to detain Anguish as have his every action e hope that a clue to the of the fugitive might be dis- of course, that the thing at all about ihe Duke of Mizrox and others in the cry for Anguish’s ar- bravely held out agalust n the end curtly informed that the American, whom she be- d nocent of all complicity ould be subjected to no n- r than detention in the city as she had ordered. hat this man be cast into nee,” snarled the white-lipped whereabouts vered, pr knew Tk eyes flashed and her bosom heaved 1 &nger. “You are not at liberty to command in Prince Bolaro: she said, “1 am ruler here.” neart of every Graustark nobleman leaped with pride at this daring rebufl. Bolaroz gasped and was speechless for som conde. “You shall not be ruler long, madam,” be said, malevolently, significantly. “But I am ruler now, and, as such, I ommand you to withdraw from my cas- . 1 did not know that I was to mit to these threats and insults, or 1 should not have been k enough to grant you an audience, Prince though are. When I came to this room ft was to give you my deepest sympathy to recelve yours, not to be imsulted. have lost son, 1 my betrothed. It you becomes you, Prince Bolaroz, to vent pon m My men power to capture =0 unfortunately es- d from our clutches, and I shall not vou or any one elee to dictate the which we are to proceed.” She ngiy, and, at ose to jeave the room. r through in surprise 4 N flicting emotions. There was no mi g ber indignation, so he e to bottle his wrath, ok the most offensive rebuke his had ever reccived, and submit to t was evident a just dectsion. ces. 1 submit to your tion regarding other stranger, h 1 doubt its wisdom. There Is in whom I-am really interested— he one who killed my son. There is to no cessation in the effort to find him, I » understand. I now have a propo- With me are 300 of my bravest b 1 offer them to you in order vou may better prosecute the search. hey will remain here and you may use m in any wey you see fit. The Duke Mizrox will linger in Edelweiss and him you and yours may always con- He, also, is at your command. This se retzken. I swear, by all that nd below me, he shall be found, world over to accom- He shall not escape And hark you to ventieth of next month I demand pa ent of the debt duc So a y is my heart set on h of this Grenfall Lorry that I , before all these friends of t if he be captured and executed i presence before the twentieth of November, Graustark shall be granted the exiension of time that would have $obtained in the event of your espousal with the man he killed. You hear this fer. man must £he Axphain, < offer, 2117 It is bound by my sacred word of honor. His death before the twentieth gives Graustark ten years of If he i= stili at large I shall claim This offer, 1 believe, most gra- jous Yetive, will greatly encourage your sple in the effort to capture the man Princess heard the remarkable The position with face deathly pale, heart beating. Again as the duty austark threst cruelly upon her. She save the one only by sacrificing the scarce G > will do all in our power to—to we ourselves grateful for your mag- nimous offer,” she said. As she passed from the room on the arm of her uncle, rd the increasing buzz of excite- sid the unrestrained ex- amazement and relief from the patronizing com- ments of the visitors, all conspiring to und bher doom. Which way was she tur rder to escape from herself? “We must catch this man, Yetjve,” said he stairway. “There is no all ccpt our inability to do so,” she mured. In that moment she deter- mined that Grenfall Lorry should never ken if she could prevent it. He was innccent and it Graustark’'s penaily to pay. The vext ¢ay, amid pomp and splen- dor, the Prinice of Axphain started on his Journey to the land of his forefathers, to the tombs of his ancestors, all Edel- weiss witnessing the imposing procession that made its way through the north gates of the town. Far up on the moun- 1ain top a.man, looking from his little window, saw the black, snake-like pro- cession wind away across the plain to the northward, losing itself in the distant hills. XXI-FROM A WINDOW ABOVE. The longest month in Lorry’s life was that which followed his romantic flight from the tower. To his impatient mind the days were irksome weeks. The cold monastery was worse than a prison. He looked from its windows as a convict looks through his bars, always hoping, al- ways disappointed. Wiih each of the in- frequent visits of Captain Quinnox his heart leaped at the prospect of liberty, only to sink deeper in despair upon the re- ceipt of emphatic though kindly assur- ances that the time had not yet come for him to leave the haven of safety into which he had been thrust by loving hands. From his little window he could see the active city below, with the adored castle; to his nostrils came the breath of summer from the coveted valley, filling him with almost insupportable longing and desire. Cold were the winds that swept about his lofty home; ghastly, grewsome the nights; pallid and desolate the days. Out of the world was he, dreary and heartsick, while at his feet stretched life and joy and love in their rarest habiliments. How he en- dured the suspense, the torture of uncer- tainty, the craving for the life that others were enjoying, he could not under- stand. Big, strong and full of vigor, his inactivity was maddening; this virtual captivity grew more and more intolerable with each succeeding day. Would they never take him from the tomb in which he was existing? A hundred times had he, in his desperation, concluded to flee from the monastery, come what might, and to trust himself to the joyous world below, but the ever-present though wan- ing spark of wisdom won out against the fierce, aggressive folly that mutinied within his hungry soul. He knew that she was guarding him with loving, ten- der care, and that when the proper time came the shackles of danger would drop and his way would be cleared. Still there was the longing, the craving, the loneliness. Day by day, night after night and the end seemed no nearer. or asleep, he dreamed of her, his heart and mind always full of that one rich blessing—her love. At times he was mad with the desire to know what she was doing, what she was think- ing and what was being done for her down there in that busy world. Lying on his pallet, sitting in the narrow window, pac- ing the halls or wandering about the cold courtyards, he thought always of her, hoping and despairing with equal fervor. The one great question that jmade his imprisonment, his inactivity so irksome was, Was he to possess the treasure he jonged so much to call his own? In those tantalizing moments of despair he feit that if he were free and near her he could win the fight against all odds. As it was, he knew not what mischief was working against his chances in the world from which he was barred. The prior was kind to him; everything that could be done to provide comfort where comfort was a stranger was em- ployed in his behalf. He lived well—until his appetite deserted him; he had mo Questions to answer, for no one asked why he was there; he ‘had no danger to fear, for no foe knéw where he lived. ¥rom the city came the promise of ulti- mate escape; verbal messages from those who loved him: news of the world—a.l at long intervals, however. Quinnox's visits were like sunbeams to him. The dashing captain came only at night and in dis- guise. He bore verbal messages, a wise precaution against mishap. Not once did he bring a word of love from the Prin- cess, an omission which caused the fugi- tive deep misery until a ray of intelli- gence showed him that she could not give to Quinnox the speeches from her heart, proud woman that she was. Anguish sent words of cheer, with com- mands to be patient. He pever failed to tell him, through Quinnox, that he was doing all in his power to find the real murderer and that he had the secret co- operation of the old police captain. Of course, the hidden man heard of the re- ward and the frenzied search prosecuted by both principalities. He laughed hys- terically over the deception that was be- ing practiced by the blue-eyed, slender woman who held the key to the situation in her keeping. It was not-until the night of the 1Sth of November thai Quinnox confirmed his fears by telling him of the conditions im- posed by Prince Bolaroz. For some rea- son the young officer had deceived Lorry in regard to the all-important matter. The American repeatedly had begged for information about tae fatal twentieth, but on all previous occasi his visitor dog- gedly maintained a show of ignorance, vowing that he knew nothing of the cir- cumstances. Finally Lorry, completely out of patience and determined to know the true state of affairs, soundly upbrajded him and sent word to the Princess that if she did not acquaint him with the inside facts he would leave the monastery and find them out for himself. This authori- tative message brought Quinnox back two nights later with the full story of the exciting conference. She implored him to remain where he was, and asked his forgiveness for having Kept the ugly truth from him. Quinnox added to his anguish by hastily informing him that there was a possibility of succor from another principality. Prince Gabriel, he said, not knowing that he was cutting his listener to the heart, was dally with the Princess, and it was believed that he was ready to loan Graustark sufficient money to meet the demand of Bolaroz. The mere thought that Gabriel was with her aroused the fiercest resentment in Lorry’s breast. He writhed beneath the knowledge that she was compelled to en- aure his advances, his protestations of love, his presence. As he paced his narrow room distract- edly a horrid thought struck him so vio- lently that hé cried aloud and staggered against the wall, his eyes fixed on the face of the startled soldier. Perhaps she might submit to Gabriel, for in submit- ting she could save not only Graustaik, but the man ghe loved. The sacrifice— but no! he would not belleve that such affliction could come to her! Marry Ga- briel! The man who had planned to scize her and make her his wanton! He ground his teeth and glared at Quinnox as if he were the object of his hatred, his vicious jealousy. The captain stepped backward in sudden alarm. “Don't be afrald!” Lorry cried, sav- agely. “I'm mot crazy. It's your news— your news! Does she expect me to stay up here while that state of affairs exists down there? Let me see; this is the 18th, and day after to-morrow is the 20th. There is no time to be lost, Captain Quin- nox. 1 shall accompany you when you leave St. Valcntine's to-night.” “Impcssible!” exclalmed Quinnox. “I cannot allow that, sit. My Instructions i “:Htang your Instructlons! All the in- structions on earth can’t compel me to sit up here and sce this sacrifice made. I am determined to sec her and put a stop to the whole affair. It is what I feared would come to pass. She is will- ing to sacrifice herself or half her king- El 8 dom, one or the other, in order that I may escape. It's not right, captain, it's not right, and I'm going to stop it. How soon can we leave this place!” He was pacing the floor, happy in the decision he had reached, notwithstanding the danger it promised. “You are mad, sir, to talk like thais,” protested the other, despairingly. “Edel- welss swarms with Axphain soldiers; our own men are on the alert to win the great reward. You cannot go to the eity. When a safe time comes you will be ta- ken from this place into the mountains instead of through the city, and given escort to Dassas, one hundred miles east. That step will not be taken until the way is perfectly clear. I tell you, sir, you cannot hope to escape if you leave the monastery now. The mountains are full of soldiers every night.” “I didn’t say anything about an escape, did I? On the contrary. I want to give myself up to her. Then she can have Gabriel thrown over the castle wall and say to Bolaroz, ‘Here is your man; I've gained the ten years of grace.’ That's the point, Quinnox; can't you see it? And I want to say to you now, I'm gaing whether you consent or refuse. I'd just a: soon be in jail down there as up here, anyhow. The only favor I have to ask of you s that you do the best you can to get me safely to her. I must talk with her before I go back to the towe: “God help me, sir, I cannot take you groaned Quinnox, trying to con- trol his nervous apprehension. “I have sworn to her that I will keep you from all harm, and it would be to break faith with her if I led you Into that mob down there.” I respect your oath, my friend, but I am going, just the same. I'll see her, too, if I have to shoot every man who attempts to prevent me. I'm desperate, man, desperate! She's everything in the world to me, and I'll die before I'll see Ler suffer.” Quinnox calmly placed his hands on the other’s shoulders, and, looking him in the eye, said quietly “Her sufferin.’ now is as nothing com- pared to what it will be if you go back to the tower. You forget how much pain she is enduring to avoid that very suffering. If you care for my mistress, sir, add no weight to the burden she al- ready carries. Remain here, as she de- You can be of no service down there. 1 implore you to be considerate.” It was an eloquent appeal, and it struck home. Lorry wavered, but his resolution would not weaken. He argued first with Quinnox, then with himsels, finally returming to the reckless deter- mination to brave all and save her from horself. The soldier begged him to listen to reason, implored mm to recon- sider, at last turning in anger upon the stubborn American with & torrent of maledictions. Lorry heard him through and quietly, unswervingiy announced that he was ready to leave the monastery at any time his guide cared to depart. Quin- nox gave up in despair at this, gazing hopeiessly at the man he had sworn to protect, who insisted on placing his head in the lion’s jaw. He sat down at the window and murmured dejectedly: “What will she say to me—wnat will she say to me?” “I shall exonerate you, captain. She can have no fault to find with your action after 1 have told her how loyal you are and how—how—well, how unreascnable [ am,” said Lorry, kindly. “You may never live to tell her this, eir. Then what is to become of me? I could not look her in the face again. I could only die.” “Don’t be so faint hearted, Quinnox!” cried Lorry, stimulated by the desire to be with her, recognizing no obstacle that might thwart him in the effort. “We'll get through, safe and sound, and we'll untangle a few complications before we reach the end of the book. Brace up, for God's sake, for mine, for hers, for your own. I must get to her before every- thing is lost. My God, the fear that she may marry Gabriel will drive me mad if I am left here another night. Come! Let us prepare to start. We must notify the Abbot that I am to go. 1 can be ready in five minutes. Ye gods, think of what she may be sacrificing for me.” The distracted captain gloomily watched the nervous preparations for departure, seeing his cwn disgrace ahead as plainly as if it had already come upon him. Lorry soon was attired in the guard’s uniform he had worn from the tower a month Lefore. His pistol was in bis pocket, and the bunch of violets she had sent to him that very night was pinned defiantly above his heart. Quin- nox smiled when he observed this bit of sentiment, and grimly informed him that he was committing an act prohibited in Dangloss’s disciplinary rules. Officers on duty were not to wear nosegays. “Dangloss will not see my violets. By the way, the moon shines brightly, doesn't it?” “It is almost as light as day. Our trip is made extremely hazardous for that rea- son. Iam sorely afraid, rash sir, that we cannot reach’ the castle unseen.’” “We must go about it boldly, all.” “Has it occurred to you, sir, that you are placing me in a terrible position? What excuse can I have, a captain of the guard, for slinking about at night with a man whom I am supposed to be track- ing to earth? Discovery will brand me as a traitor. I ¢annot deny the charge with- out exposing her Majesty.” Lorry turned cold. He had not thought of this alarming possibility. But his ready wit came again to his relief, and with bright, confident eyes he swept away tne obstacle. “If discovered you are at once to pro- claim me a prisoner, take the credit for having caught me, and claim the re- ward.” “In that case you will not go to the cas- tle, but to the tower.” “Not if you obey orders. The offer of reward says that I must be delivered to the undersigned. You will take me to her and not to the tower.” Quinnox smiled and threw up his hands as if unable to combat the quick logic of his companion. Together they made their way to the prior's cell, afterward to the Abbot's apartment. It was barely 11 o'clock and he had not retired. He ques- tioned Quinnox clozely, bade Lorry fare- well and blessed him, sent his benediction to the Princess and ordered them con- ducted to the gates. Ten minutes later they stood outside the wall, the great gates having been closed sharply behind them. Above them hung the silvery moon, full and bright, throw= ing its refulgent splendor over the moun- tain top with all the brilllancy of day. Never had Lorry scen the moon so ac- cursedly bright. “'Gad, it is llke day,” he exclaimed. “As 1 told you, sir,” agrecd the other, reproof in his voice. “We must wait until the moon goes down. 1t won't do to risk it now. Can we not go somewhere to keep warm for an hour or so?”’ “There is a cave farther down the mountain. Shall we take the chances of reaching 1t?” A “By all means. I can’t endure the cold after being cooped up for so long.” They followed the winding road for some distance down the mountain, com- ing at last to a point where a small path branched off. It was the path leading down the side of the steep overlooking the- city, and upon that side no wagon road couid be built. Seven thousand feet that's THE SUNDAY CALL, below stretched the sleeping, moonlit city. Standing out on the brow of the moun- tain they seemed to be the only living ob- jects in the world. There was no sign of life above, below or beside them. “How long should we be in making the descent?” asked Lorry, a sort of terror possessing him as he looked from the dizzy height into the ghost-like dimness below. *“Three hours, if you are strong." “And how are we to get into the castle? I hadn’t thought of that.” ‘““There is a secret entrance,” said Quin- nox maliciously, enjoying the insistent one’s acknowledgment of weakness. “‘If we reach it safely I can take you under- ground to the old dungeons beneath the castle. It may be some time before you can enter the halls above. for the secret of that passage is guarded Jjealously. There are but five people who know of its existence.” “‘Great confldence is placed in you, I see, and worthily, I am sure. How is that you are trusted so implicitly?” “I inherit the confidence. The captain of the guard is born to his position. My ancestors held the place béfore me and not cne betrayed the trust. The first born in the last ten generations has been the captain of the guard in the royal palace, possessing all its secrets. I shall be the first to betray the trust—and for a man who is nothing to me.” “I suppose you consider me selfish and vile for placing you in this position,” said Lorry, somewhat contritely. “No; I have begun the task and I will complete it, come what may,” answered the captain firmly. “You are the only be- ing in the world for whom I would sacri~ fice my honor voluntarily—save one.” “I have wondered why you were never tempted to turn traitor to the Princess and claim the fortune that is represented in the reward.” “Not for five million gavvos, sir!” “By George, you are a faithful lot! Dangloss, Allode and Ogbot and yourself, four honest men to whom she trusts her life, her honor. You belong to a rare species and I am proud to know you.” The stealthy couple found the cave and spent an hour or more within its walls, sallying forth after the tardy darkness had crept down over the mountair and into the peaceful valley. Then began the tortuous descent. Quinnox in the Jead, they walked, crawled and ran down the narrow path, = bruised, scratched and aching by the time they reached the tonmost of the summer houses along the face of the mountain. After this walking was easier, but stealthiness made thefr progress slow. Frequently, as they neared the base, they were obliged to dodge behind houses or to drop into the ditches by the roadside in order to avold patroling police guards or Axphain sleuth-hounds. Lorry mar- veled at the vigil the soldiers were keep- ing, and was somewhat surprised to learn from the young captain that prevailing opinfon located him in or near the city. For this reason, while other men were scouring Vienna, Paris and even London, hordes of vengeful men searched day and night for a clew in the city of Edelweiss. The fugitive began to realize how de- termined was the effort to capture him and how small the chance of acquittal if he were taken. To his fevered imagina- tion the enmity of the whole world was shaping Itself against him. The air was charged with hatred, the ground with vengeance, the trees and rocks with de- nouncing shadows, while from the dark- ness behind merciless hands seemed to be stretched forth to clutch him. One sim- ple, loyal love stood alone antagonistic to the universal desire to crush-and kill. fragile woman was shielding him sturdi- 1y, unwaveringly against all these mighty forces. His heart thrilled with devotion; his arm tingted with joy of clasping her once more to his breast; his wistful eyes hung upon the flickering light far off in the west. Quinnox had pointed it out to him, saying that it burned in the bed- chamber of the Princess Yetive. Since the memorable night that took him to the cell in St. Valentine's, this light had burned from dusk to daylight. Lovingly, faithfully it had shone for him through all those dreary nights, a lonely signal from one heart to another. At last, stiff and sore, they stole into the narrow strects of Edelweiss. Lorry glanced back and shivered, although the air was warm and balmy. He had truly been out cof the world. Not until this in- stant did he fully appreciate the dread that possesses a man who is being hunted down by tireless foes: never did man's heart go out in gratitude and trustfulness as did his toward the strong defender whose sinewy arm he clasped as if in terror. “You understand what this means to me,” said Quinnox gravely, as they paused to rest. “She will call me your murderer and curse me for my miserable treason. I am the first to dishonor the name of Quinnox.” XXII-GRENFALL LORRY'S FOE. The Princess Yetive had not flinched a hair’s breadth from the resolution formed on that stormy night when she sacrificed pride and duty.on the altar of love and Justice. Prince Bolayoz's ultimatum over- whelmed, her, but she arose from the wreckage that was strewn about her con- science and remained loyal, steadfast and true to the man' in the monastery, To save his life was all she could hope to accomplish, and that she was bound to do at any cost. She could be nothing to him—not even friend. So long as he lived he would be considered the murderer of Lorenz, and until the end a price weuld hang over his hcad. She, Princess of Graustark, had offcred, a reward for him. Tor that reason he was always to be a fugitive, and she least of all could hope to sce'him. There had been a brief, hap- py dream, but it was swept away by the unrelenting rush of reality. The mere fact that she and she alone was responsi- ble for his flight placed between them an_unsurmountable barrier. Clinging tenaclously to her purpose, she was still cognizant of the debt she owed the trusting, loving Graustark. One word from her could avert the calamity that was to fall with the dawn of the fatal 20th. All Graustark blindly trusted and adored ‘her; to undeceilve them would be to administer a shock from which they could never recover. Her heart was bursting with love for Lorry; her soul was overflowing with ten- der thoughts that could not be sent to him, much as she trusted to the honor ot Quinnox, her messenger. Hour after hour she sat In her window and marveled a* the change that had been wrought in her life by this strong American, her cyes fixed on the far-away monastery, her heart still and cold and fearful. had no confidant in this miserable af- fair of the heart. Others, near and dear, had surmised, but no word of hers con- firmed. A diffidence, strange and proud, forbade the confession of her frality, sweet, pure and womanly though it was. She could not forget that she was a Princess. The Countess Dagmar was piqued by her reticence, and sought in manifold ways to draw forth the voluntary avowal, with its divine tears and blushes. Harry Anguish, who spent much of his time at the castle and who invariably deserted his guards at the portals, was as eager as the Countess to have her commit herself irretrievably by word or sign, but he, too, was disap- pointed. He was, also, considerably puz- zled. Her Majesty's manner was at all times frank and untroubled. She was ap- parently light-hcarted; her cheeks had A She lost none of their freshness; her eyes ‘were bright; her smile was quick aad merry; her wit unclouded. Receptions, drawing-rooms and’ state functions found her always vivacious, so much so that her court wondered not a little. Daily repor brought no news of the fugitive, but while others were beginning to acquire the hag- gard air of worry and uncertainty she was calmly resigned. The 15th, the lv., the 17th, the 1Sth and now the 19th of No- vember came and still the Princess re- vealed no marked sign of distress. Could they have seen her in the privacy of her chamber on those dreary, maddeniuz nights they would not have known their sovereign. Heavy-hearted and with bowed heads the people of Graustark saw the 19th face in the night. the breaking of which would bring the crush of pride, the end of power. At court there was the silent dread ana the dying hope that relief might come at the last hour. Men, with pale faces and tearful eyes, wandered through the an- cient castle, speechless, nerveless, miser- able. Brave soldfers crept about, shorn of pride and filled with woe. Citizens sat and stared aimlessly for hours, thinking of naught but the disaster 3o near at hand and so unavoidable. The whole nation surged as if in the last throes of death. To-morrow the potency of Graustark to die, its domain was to be cleft in twain —disgraced before the world. And, on the throne of this afflicted land sat the girl, proud, tender, courageous Yetive. To all Graustark she was its greatest, its most devoted sufferer; upon her the blow fell heaviest. There she sat, merciful and merciless, her slim white hand ready to sign the shameful deed in transfer, ready to sell her kingdom for her love., Beneath her throne, beneati her feet, cowered six souls, possessors of the secret. Of all the people in the world they alone knew the heart of the Frin- cess Yetive, they alone felt with her the weight of the sacrifice. With wistful eyes, fainting hearts and voiceless ..ps five of them watched the day approach, knowing that she would not speak und that Graustark was doomed. Loyal con- spirators against that which they loved better than their lives—their country— were Dangloss, Quinnox, Allode, Ogbot and Dagmar. To-morfow would see the north torn from the south, the division of families, the rending of homes, the burst- ing of hearts. She sanctioned all this be- cause she loved him and because he had done no wrong. Aware of her financial troubles and pur- suing the advantage that his rival's death had opened to. him, Prince Gabriel of Dawsbergen renewed his ardent suit. Scarce had the body of the murdered Prince left the domain before he made his presence remarked. She was compelled to receive his visits, distasteful as they were, but she would not hear his propo- sitions, Knowing that he was in truth the mysterfous Michael who had planned her abduction, she feared and despised him, yet -dared make no public denuncla- tion. As Dawsbergen was too powerful to be antagonized at this critical time, she was constantiy forced to submit to the most trying and repulsive ordeals. Tact and policy were required to control the violent hot-blooded young ruler from the south.’ At times she despaired and longed for the quiet of the tomb; at other times she was consumed by the fires of resentment, rebelling against the ignom- iny to which she was subjected. Worse than all to her were the insolent overtures of Gabriel. The tears of humiliation shed arter his departure on the occasion -of each visit revealed the bitterness that was torturing this proud martyr. He had come at once to renew his offer of a loan, knowing her helplessness. Day after day he haunted the castle, persist- ent in his efforts to induce her Lo accept his proposition. So fierce was his pas- sion, so implacable his desire, that he went among the people of Edelweiss, pre- senting to them his proposal, hoping thereby to aad pubiic feeling to his claims, He tried to organize a committee of citi- zens to go before the Princess with a petition tnat his offer be accepted and the country saved. But Graustark was loyal to its Princess. Not one of her citizens listened to the wily Prince, and more than one told him or his emissaries that the loss of the whole kingdom was prefer- able to the marriage he desired. The city sickened at the thought. His last and master-stroke In the struggie to persuade came on the af- sternoon of the 19th, at an hour when all Edelweiss was in gloom and when the Princess was taxed to the point where the mask of courage was so irail that she eould scare hide her bleed- ing soul behind it. Bolaroz of Axphain, to quote from the news dispatch, was in Edelweiss, a guest, with a tew of his lords, in the castle. .Narth of the city were encamped tive thousand men. He had come prepared to cancel the littie obiigation of fifteen years’ standing. With the hated creditor in the castle, his {nfluence hovering above the town, the populace distracted by the thoughts of the day to come, Gabriel played what he considered his best card. He asked for and obtained a final inter- ‘view with Yetive, not in her boudoir or her reception-room, but in the throne- room, where she was to meet Bolaroz in the morning. The Princess, seated on her throne, awalited the approach of the resourceful, tenacious suitor. He came and behind him strode eight stalwart men, bearing a long iron-bound chest, the result of his efforts with his bankers. Yetive and her nobles looked in surprise oa this unusual performance. Dropping to his knee before the throne, Gabriel said, his volce trembling slightly with eagerness and fear: “Your Highness, to-morrow will see the turning point in the history of two, pos- sibly three, nations—Graustark, Axphain and Dawsbergen. I have included my own land because its ruler is most vitally interested. He would serve and save Graustark, ©s you know, and he woula satisfy Axphain. It is in my power to give you aid at this last, trying hour, and 1 implore you to listen to my words of sin- cerest friendship—yes, adoration. To-mor- row you are to pay to Prince Bolaroz over twenty-five million gavvos or relinquish the entire north half of your domain. I understand the lamentable situation. You can raise no more than fifteen million and you are helpless. He will grant no ex- tension of time. You know what I have proffered before. I come to-day to repeat my friendly offer and to give unquestioned bond as to my ability to carry it out. It you agree to accept the loan I extend, ten milllon gavvos for fifteen years at the usual rate of interest, you can on to- morrow morning place in the hand of Ax- phain when he makes his formal demand the full amount of your indebtedness in 1d. Ricardo, open the chest!” %n attendant threw open the lid of the chest. It was filled with gold coins. “This box contains one hundred thousand gavvos. There are in your halls nine boxes holding nine times as much as you see here. And there are nine times as much all told on the way. This is an evidence of my good faith. Here 1s the gold. Pay Bolaroz and owe Gabriel, the greatest happiness that could come to him.” There was a dead silence after this the- atrical action. “The interest on this loan is not all you ask,’1 understand,” sald Halfont, slowly, his black eyes glittering. ‘“You ask some- thing that Graustark cannot and will not barter—the hand of its soverelgn. If you are willing to make this loan, naming a fair rate of interest, withdrawing your proposal of marriage, we can come to an agreement.” 19 ASEOVE BEHIND Gabriel’s eyes deadened with disap- pointment, his breast heaved and his fin- gers twitched. “I have the happiness of your sovereign heart as much as my own,” he said. “She will never want for devotion, she will never know a pain.” ! “You are determined, then, to adhere to your original proposition?”’ demanded the . Count. ‘She would have married Lorenz to save her land, to protect her people. Am I not as good as Lorenz? Why not give—"" be- gan Gabriel, viciously, but Yetive arose, and with gleaming eyes and flushing cheeks interrupted him. “Go! I will not hear you—not one ‘word!” He passed from the room without an- other word. Her court saw her standing straight and immovable, her white face transfigured. XXIII-THE VISITOR AT MIDNIGHT. Below the castle and its distressed oc- cupants, in a dark, damp little room, Grenfall Lorry lived a year in a day. On the night of the 18th, or rather near the break of dawn on the 19th, Captain Quin- nox guided him from the dangerous streets of Edelweiss to the secret passage and he was gafe for the time being. The entrance to the passage was through a skillfully hidden opening in the wall that inclosed the park. A stone doorway, so cleverly constructed that it defied detec- tion, led to a set of steps which, in turn, took one to a long narrow passage. This ended in a stairway fully a quarter of a mile from its beginning. Ascending this stairway one came to a secret panel, through whith, by pressing a spring, the interior of the castle was reached. The location of the panel was in one of the recesses in_the wall of the chapel, near the altar. It was in this chapel that Yet- ive exchanged her male attire for a loose gown, weeks before, and the servant who saw her come from the door at an un- earthly hour in the morning believed she had gone there to seek surcease from the troubles which oppressed her. Lorry was impatient to rush forth from his place of hiding and to end all sus- pense, but Quinnox demurred. He bégged the eager American to remain in the pas- sage until the night of the 19th, when, all things going well, he might be so fortu- nate as to reach the Princess without being seen. It was the secret hope of the guilty captain that his charge could be induced by the Princess to I to the monastery, to avoid complications. He promised to inferm her Highness of his presence in the underground room and to arrange for a meeting. The miserable fel- low could not find courage to confess his disabedience to his trusting mistress. Many times during the day she had seen him hovering near, approaching and then retreating, and had wondered not a little at his peculiar manner. And so it was that Lorry chafed and writhed through a long day of suspense and agony. Quinnex had brought to the little room some candles, food and bed- ding, but he utilized only the former. The hours went by and nosummons called him to her side. He was dying with the de- sire to hold her in his arms and to hear her voice again. Pacing to and fro like a caged animal, he recalled the ride in West Virginia, the night in her bed chamber, the day in the throne room add, more delicious than all, the trip to the monastery. In his dreams, walking or sleeping, he had seen the slim soldier, had heard the muffled voice and had felt the womanly caresses. His brain now ‘was in a whirl, busy with thoughts of love and fear, distraught with anxiety for her and for himself, bursting with the awful consequences of the hour that was unon them. What was to become of him? What was to be the end of this drama? What would the night, the mor= row bring ahout? He looked back and saw himself as he was a year ago in Washington, before she came into his life, and then won- dered if it could really be he who was going through these strange, improbable scenes, these sensations. It was 9 o’clock in the evening when Quinnox returned to the little room. The waiting one had looked at his watch a hundred times, had run insanely up and down the passage in quest of the secret exit, had shouted aloud in the frenzy of desperation. “Have you seen her?” he cried, grasp- ing the newcomer’s hand. “I have, but, before God, I could not tell her what I had done. Your visit will be a surprise, I fear a shock.” “Then how am I to see her? Fool! Am I to wait here forever—"" “Have patience. 1 will take'you to her to-night—aye, within an nour. To-mor- row morning she signs away the northern provinces, and her instructions are that she is not to be disturbed to-night. Not even will she see the Countess Dagmar after 9 o'clock. It breaks my heart to see the sorrow that abounds in the castle to-night. Her Highness insists on being alone, and Basot, the new guard, has or- ders to admit no one to her apartments. He is ill and I have promised that a sub- stitute shall relieve him at 11 o'clock. You are to be the substitute. Here is a part of an old uniform of mine and here is a coat that belonged to Dannox, who was about your size. ®lease exchange the clothes you now have on for these. I apprehend no trouble in reaching her door, for the household is in gloom and the halls seem barren of life.” He threw the bundle on a chair and Lorry at once proceeded to don the con- tents. In a very short time he wore, instead of the cellkeeper's garments, a mneat fitting uniform of the royal guard. He was trembling violently, chilled to the bone with nervousness, as they began the ascent of the stairs lead- ing to the chapel. The crisis in his life, he felt, was near at hand. Under the stealthy hand of Quinnox the panel opened and they listened intently for some moments. There was no one in the dimly lighted chapel, and they made their way to the door at the opposite end. The great organ looked down upon them and Lorry expected every instant to hear it burst forth in sounds of thunder. It seemed alive and watching their move- ments reproachfully. Before unlocking the door, the captain pointed to a lance which stood against the wall near by. “You are to carry that lance,” he said, briefly. Then he cautlously peered forth. A moment later they were in the broad hall, boldly striding toward the distant stalrway. Lorry had been instructed to proceed without the least sign of timidity. They passed several attendants in the hall and heard Count Halfont's voice in con- versation with some one in an anteroom. As they neared the broad steps who should come tripping down but Harry An- guish? He saluted Quinnox and walked rapidly down the corridor, evidently tak- ing his departure after a call on the Countess. “There goes your hostage,” said the captain, grimly. It had required all of Lorry’s self-possession to restrain the cry of joyful recognition. Up the staircase they went, meeting several ladies and gen- tlemen coming down, and were soon be- fore the apartments of the Princess. A tall guard stood in front p! the boudoir door. “This is your relief, Bassot. You may go,” sald Quinnox, and, with a careless glance at the strange soldler, the sick man trudged off down the hall, glad to seek his bed. “Is she there?” whispered Lorry, dizzy and faint with expectancy. “Yes. This may mean your death and ]Nyl EE@ COPYRIGET By HERBERTS STONE & CO. mine, sir, but you would do it. Will you explain to her how I came to play her false?” s “‘She shall know the truth, good friend.” “After I have gone twenty paces down the hall, do you rap on the door. She may not admit you at first, but do not give’up:. If she bid you enter or asks your mission, enter quickly and close the door. It is unlocked. She may swoon or scream, and you must prevent either if possible. In an hour I shall return and Yyou must go back to the passage.” “Never! I have come to save her and her ‘country, and I intend to do so by surrendering myself this very night.” “I had hoped to dissuade you. But, sir, you cannot do so to-night. You forget that this visit compromises her.’ “True. I had forgotten. Well, T'll go back with you, but to-morrow I am your priosner, not your friend.” “Be careful,” cautioned the captain as he moved away. Lorry feverishly tapped his knuckles on the panel of the door and waited with motionless heart for the re- sponse. It came not and he rapped harder, a strange fear darting into his mind. ‘“Well?"* came from within, the voice he adored. Impetuous haste marked his next move- ment. He dashed open the door, sprarg inside and closed it quickly. She was s: ting before her escritoire, writing, and looked up, surprised and annoyed. “I was not to be disturbed—Oh, God!” She staggered to her feet and was In his arms before the breath of her ex clamation had died away. Had he not supported her she would have dropped to the floor. Her hands, her face were like ice, her breast was pulseless and there was the wildest terror in her ~v:3, “My darling—my queen!” he cried, pas- sionately. “At last I am with you! Don't look at me like that! It is really I—I could not stay away—I could not permit this sacrifice of yours. Speak to me! Do not stare like that!" Her wide blue eyes slowly swept his face, piteous wonder and doubt strug- gling in their depths. “Am I awake?” she murmured, touca= ing his face with her bewildered, ques- tioning hands. “Is it truly you? A smile illumined her face. but her joy was short lived. An expression of terror came to her eyes and there was agony in the fingers that clasped his arm. “Why do you ceme here?” she cried. “It is mad- ness! How and why came you to this room?" He laughed like a delighted boy and hastily narrated the events of the past twenty-four hours, ending with the trick that gave him entrance to her room. “And all this to see me?"" she whispered. “To see you and to save you. I hear that Gabriel has been annoying you and that you are to give up half of the kingdom to-morrow. Tell me everything. It is another reason for my coming.” Sitting beside him on the divan, she told of Gabriel's visit and his dis- missal, the outlook for the next day, and then sought to convince him of the happiness it afforded her to pro- tect him from an undeserved death. He obtained fur Quinnox the royal pardon and lauded him to the skies. So ravishing ‘were the moments, so ecstatic the sensa- tions that possessed them that neither thought of the consequences If he were to be discovered in-her room, disguised as one of her guardsmen. He forgot the real import of his reckless visit until she com- manded him to stand erect before her that she might see what manner of sol- dler he was. With a laugh, he leaped to his feet and stood before her—attention! She leaned back among the cushions and surveyed him through the glowing, im- passioned eyes, which slowly closed as if to shut out temptation. “You are a perfect soldier,” she said, her lashes parting ever so slightly. *“No more perfect than you,” he cried. She remembered, with confusion, her own masquerading; but it was unkind of him to remember it. Her allusion to his uni- form turned his thoughts into the channel through which they had been sirging so turbulently up to the moment that found him tapping at her door. He had not told her of his determination, and the task grew harder as he saw the sparkle glow brighter and brighter in her eye. ‘““You are a brave soldier, then,” she substituted. “It required courage to come to Edelweiss with hundreds of men ready to seize you at sight—a pack of blood- hounds.” - “I should have been a miserable coward to stay up there while you are so bravely facing disaster alone down here. I came to help you, as I should.” “But you can. do nothing, dear, and you only make matters worse by coming to me. I have focught so hard to overcome the desire to be near you; I have strug- gled against myself for days and days, and I had won the battle when you came to pull my walls of strength down about my ears. Look! On my desk is a letter I was writing to you. No; you shall not read it! No one shall ever know what it contains.”” She darted to the desk. snatched up the sheets of paper and held them over the waxed taper. He stood in the middle of the room, a feeling of in- tense desolation settling down upon him. How could he lose this woman? “To-morrow night Quinnox is to take you from the monastery and conduct you to a distant city. It has all been planned. Your friend, Mr. Anguish, is to meet you in three days and you are to hurry to America by way of Athens. This was a letter to you. In it I said many things and was trying to write farewell when you came to this room. Do you wonder that I was overcome with doubt and amazement—yes, and horror? Ach, what peril you are in here! Every minute may bring discovery and that would mean death to you. You are inno- cent. but nothing could save you. The proof is too strong. Mizrox has found a man who swears he saw you enter Lo- renz’'s room.” “What a damnable le!” cried Lorry lightly. “I was not near his room!” “But you can see what means they will adopt to convict you. You are doomed if caught, by my soldiers or theirs. I cannot save you again. You know now that I love you. I would not give awav half of the land that my forefathers ruled were it not true. Bolaroz would be glad to grant ten years of grace should he but have you ' in his clutches. And, to see me, you would run the risk of undoing all that I have planned, accomplished and suffered for. Could you not have been content with that last good-by at the monastery? It is cruel to both of us—to me especally —that we must have the parting over again.”” She had gone to the divan and now dropped limply among the cushions, resting her head on her hand. “1 was determined to see you,” he said. “They shall not kill me nor are you te" sacrifice your father's domain. Worse than all, I feared that you might yleld to Gabriel—"" “Ach! You insult me when you say that! I yielded to Lorenz because I thought it my duty and because I dared not admit to myself that I loved you. But Gabriel Ach!” she cried, scornfully. “Gren! Lorry, I shall marry no man. You I love, but you I cannot marry. It is folly to dream of it, even, as a possibfl- ity. &'hen you go from Graustark to- heart, my Mf ow night you take m; o1 With you. I shall never see again—God help me to say this—I never allow you to see me again. I tell you I could not bear it. The we: strongest of God's creations is woman. She started suddenly, half rising. ?‘ any one see you comeé to my room? Was Quinnox sure?” Continued Next Week.