“Didn’t he give you a talking to?”
“He coached me in ethics.”
“You are evading the question, sir. Was he mean and nasty to you? Tell me; I want to know.”
“Well, he said things that a soldier must endure. A civilian or an equal might have run him through for it, your highness.” A flush rose to his cheeks and his lips quivered ever so slightly. But Beverly saw and understood. Her heart was in her eyes.
“That settles it,” she said rigidly. “You are not to report to him at nine tomorrow.”
“But he will have me shot, your highness,” said he gladly.
“He will do nothing of the kind. You are my guard,” and her eyes were gleaming dangerously. Then she rejoined the group, the members of which had been watching her curiously. “Count Marlanx,” she said, with entrancing dimples, “will you report to me at nine tomorrow morning?”
“I have an appointment,” he said slowly, but with understanding.
“But you will break it, I am sure,” she asserted confidently. “I want to give you a lesson in—in lawn tennis.”
Later on, when the victoria was well away from the fort, Dagmar took her companion to task for holding in public friendly discourse with a member of the guard, whoever he might be.
“It is altogether contrary to custom, and—” but Beverly put her hand over the critical lips and smiled like a guilty child.
“Now, don’t scold,” she pleaded, and the countess could go no further.
The following morning Count Marlanx reported at nine o’clock with much better grace than he had suspected himself capable of exercising. What she taught him of tennis on the royal courts, in the presence of an amused audience, was as nothing to what he learned of strategy as it can be practiced by a whimsical girl. Almost before he knew it she had won exemption for Baldos, that being the stake for the first set of singles. To his credit, the count was game. He took the wager, knowing that he, in his ignorance, could not win from the blithe young expert in petticoats. Then he offered to wager the brass candlestick against her bracelet. She considered for a moment and then, in a spirit of enthusiasm, accepted the proposition. After all, she coveted the candlestick. Half an hour later an orderly was riding to the fort with instructions to return at once with Miss Calhoun’s candlestick. It is on record that they were “love” sets, which goes to prove that Beverly took no chances.
Count Marlanx, puffing and perspiring, his joints dismayed and his brain confused, rode away at noon with Baron Dangloss. Beverly, quite happy in her complete victory, enjoyed a nap of profound sweetness and then was ready for her walk with the princess. They were strolling leisurely about the beautiful grounds, safe in the shade of the trees from the heat of the July sun, when Baron Dangloss approached.
“Your royal highness,” he began, with his fierce smile, “may I beg a moment’s audience?”
“It has to do with Baldos, I’ll take oath,” said Beverly, with conviction.
“Yes, with your guard. Yesterday he visited the fortress. He went in an official capacity, it is true, but he was privileged to study the secrets of our defense with alarming freedom. It would not surprise me to find that this stranger has learned everything there is to know about the fort.” His listeners were silent. The smiles left their faces. “I am not saying that he would betray us—”
“No, no!” protested Beverly.
“—but he is in a position to give the most valuable information to an enemy. An officer has just informed me that Baldos missed not a detail in regard to the armament, or the location of vital spots in the construction of the fortress.”
“But he wouldn’t be so base as to use his knowledge to our undoing,” cried Yetive seriously.
“We only know that he is not one of us. It is not beyond reason that his allegiance is to another power, Dawsbergen, for instance. Count Marlanx is not at all in sympathy with him, you are aware. He is convinced that Baldos is a man of consequence, possibly one of our bitterest enemies, and he hates him. For my own part, I may say that I like the man. I believe he is to be trusted, but if he be an agent of Volga or Gabriel, his opportunity has come. He is in a position to make accurate maps of the fort and of all our masked fortifications along the city walls.” Beyond a doubt, the baron was worried.
“Neither am I one of you,” said Beverly stoutly. “Why shouldn’t I prove to be a traitress?”
“You have no quarrel with us, Miss Calhoun,” said Dangloss.
“If anything happens, then, I am to be blamed for it,” she cried in deep distress. “I brought him to Edelweiss, and I believe in him.”
“For his own sake, your highness, and Miss Calhoun, I suggest that no opportunity should be given him to communicate with the outside world. We cannot accuse him, of course, but we can protect him. I come to ask your permission to have him detailed for duty only in places where no suspicion can attach to any of his actions.”
“You mean inside the city walls?” asked Yetive.
“Yes, your highness, and as far as possible from the fortress.”
“I think it is a wise precaution. Don’t be angry, Beverly,” the princess said gently. “It is for his own sake, you see. I am acting on the presumption that he is wholly innocent of any desire to betray us.”
“It would be easy for someone high in position to accuse and convict him,” said Dangloss meaningly.
“And it would be just like someone, too,” agreed Beverly, her thoughts, with the others’, going toward none but one man “high in power.”
Later in the day she called Baldos to her side as they were riding in the castle avenue. She was determined to try a little experiment of her own.
“Baldos, what do you think of the fortress?” she asked.
“I could overthrow it after half an hour’s bombardment, your highness,” he answered, without thinking. She started violently.
“Is it possible? Are there so many weak points?” she went on, catching her breath.
“There are three vital points of weakness, your highness. The magazine can be reached from the outside if one knows the lay of the land; the parade-ground exposes the ammunition building to certain disadvantages, and the big guns could be silenced in an hour if an enemy had the sense first to bombard from the elevation northeast of the city.”
“Good heavens!” gasped poor Beverly. “Have you studied all this out?”
“I was once a real soldier, your highness,” he said, simply. “It was impossible for me not to see the defects in your fort.”
“You—you haven’t told anyone of this, have you?” she cried, white-faced and anxious.
“No one but your highness. You do not employ me as a tale-bearer, I trust.”
“I did not mean to question your honor,” she said. “Would you mind going before the heads of the war department and tell them just what you have told me? I mean about the weak spots.”
“If it is your command, your highness,” he said quietly, but he was surprised.
“You may expect to be summoned then, so hold yourself in readiness. And, Baldos—”
“Yes, your highness?”
“You need say nothing to them of our having talked the matter over beforehand—unless they pin you down to it, you know.”
CHAPTER XV
THE TESTING OF BALDOS
A few hours later, all was dark and silent within the castle. On the stone walks below, the steady tread of sentinels rose on the still air; in the hallways the trusted guardsmen glided about like spectres or stood like statues. An hour before the great edifice had been bright and full of animation; now it slumbered.
It was two o’clock. The breath of roses scented the air, the gurgle of fountains was the only music that touched the ear. Beverly Calhoun, dismissing Aunt Fanny, stepped from her window out upon the great stone balcony. A rich oriental dressing-gown, loose and comfortable, was her costume. Something told her that sleep would be a long time coming, and an hour in the warm, delightful atmosphere of the night
was more attractive than the close, sleepless silence of her own room. Every window along the balcony was dark, proving that the entire household had retired to rest.
She was troubled. The fear had entered her head that the castle folk were regretting the advent of Baldos, that everyone was questioning the wisdom of his being in the position he occupied through her devices. Her talk with him did much to upset her tranquillity. That he knew so much of the fortress bore out the subtle suspicions of Dangloss and perhaps others. She was troubled, not that she doubted him, but that if anything went wrong an accusation against him, however unjust, would be difficult to overcome. And she would be to blame, in a large degree.
For many minutes she sat in the dark shadow of a great pillar, her elbows upon the cool balustrade, staring dreamily into the star-studded vault above. Far away in the air she could see the tiny yellow lights of the monastery, lonely sentinel on the mountain top. From the heights near that abode of peace and penitence an enemy could destroy the fortress to the south. Had not Baldos told her so? One big gun would do the work if it could be taken to that altitude. Baldos could draw a perfect map of the fortress. He could tell precisely where the shells should fall. And already the chief men in Edelweiss were wondering who he was and to what end he might utilize his knowledge. They were watching him, they were warning her.
For the first time since she came to the castle, she felt a sense of loneliness, a certain unhappiness. She could not shake off the feeling that she was, after all, alone in her belief in Baldos. Her heart told her that the tall, straightforward fellow she had met in the hills was as honest as the day. She was deceiving him, she realized, but he was misleading no one. Off in a distant part of the castle ground she could see the long square shadow that marked the location of the barracks and messroom. There he was sleeping, confidently believing in her and her power to save him from all harm. Something in her soul cried out to him that she would be staunch and true, and that he might sleep without a tremor of apprehensiveness.
Suddenly she smiled nervously and drew back into the shadow of the pillar. It occurred to her that he might be looking across the moon-lit park, looking directly at her through all that shadowy distance. She was conscious of a strange glow in her cheeks and a quickening of the blood as she pulled the folds of her gown across her bare throat.
“Not the moon, nor the stars, nor the light in St. Valentine’s, but the black thing away off there on the earth,” said a soft voice behind her, and Beverly started as if the supernatural had approached her. She turned to face the princess, who stood almost at her side.
“Yetive! How did you get here?”
“That is what you are looking at, dear,” went on Yetive, as if completing her charge. “Why are you not in bed?”
“And you? I thought you were sound asleep long ago,” murmured Beverly, abominating the guilty feeling that came over her. The princess threw her arm about Beverly’s shoulder.
“I have been watching you for half an hour,” she said gently. “Can’t two look at the moon and stars as well as one? Isn’t it my grim old castle? Let us sit here together, dear, and dream awhile.”
“You dear Yetive,” and Beverly drew her down beside her on the cushions. “But, listen: I want you to get something out of your head. I was not looking at anything in particular.”
“Beverly, I believe you were thinking of Baldos,” said the other, her fingers straying fondly across the girl’s soft hair.
“Ridiculous!” said Beverly, conscious for the first time that he was seldom out of her thoughts. The realization came like a blow, and her eyes grew very wide out there in the darkness.
“And you are troubled on his account. I know it, dear. You—”
“Well, Yetive, why shouldn’t I be worried? I brought him here against his will,” protested Beverly. “If anything should happen to him—” she shuddered involuntarily.
“Don’t be afraid, Beverly. I have as much confidence in him as you have. His eyes are true. Grenfall believes in him, too, and so does Mr. Anguish. Gren says he would swear by him, no matter who he is.”
“But the others?” Beverly whispered.
“Baron Dangloss is his friend, and so is Quinnox. They know a man. The count is different.”
“I loathe that old wretch!”
“Hush! He has not wronged you in any way.”
“But he has been unfair and mean to Baldos.”
“It is a soldier’s lot, my dear.”
“But he may be Prince Dantan or Frederic or the other one, don’t you know,” argued Beverly, clenching her hands firmly.
“In that event, he would be an honorable soldier, and we have nothing to fear in him. Neither of them is our enemy. It is the possibility that he is not one of them that makes his presence here look dangerous.”
“I don’t want to talk about him,” said Beverly, but she was disappointed when the princess obligingly changed the subject.
Baldos was not surprised, scarcely more than interested, when a day or two later, he was summoned to appear before the board of strategy. If anyone had told him, however, that on a recent night a pair of dreamy gray eyes had tried to find his window in the great black shadow, he might have jumped in amazement and—delight. For at that very hour he was looking off toward the castle, and his thoughts were of the girl who drew back into the shadow of the pillar.
The Graustark ministry had received news from the southern frontier. Messengers came in with the alarming and significant report that Dawsbergen was strengthening her fortifications in the passes and moving war supplies northward. It meant that Gabriel and his people expected a fight and were preparing for it. Count Halfont hastily called the ministers together, and Lorry and the princess took part in their deliberations. General Marlanx represented the army; and it was he who finally asked to have Baldos brought before the council. The Iron Count plainly intimated that the new guard was in a position to transmit valuable information to the enemy. Colonel Quinnox sent for him, and Baldos was soon standing in the presence of Yetive and her advisers. He looked about him with a singular smile. The one whom he was supposed to regard as the princess was not in the council chamber. Lorry opened the examination at the request of Count Halfont, the premier. Baldos quietly answered the questions concerning his present position, his age, his term of enlistment, and his interpretations of the obligations required of him.
“Ask him who he really is,” suggested the Iron Count sarcastically.
“We can expect but one answer to that question,” said Lorry, “and that is the one which he chooses to give.”
“My name is Baldos—Paul Baldos,” said the guard, but he said it in such a way that no one could mistake his appreciation of the fact that he could give one name as well as another and still serve his own purposes.
“That is lie number one,” observed Marlanx loudly. Every eye was turned upon Baldos, but his face did not lose its half-mocking expression of serenity.
“Proceed with the examination, Mr. Lorry” said Count Halfont, interpreting a quick glance from Yetive.
“Are you willing to answer any and all questions we may ask in connection with your observations since you became a member of the castle guard?” asked Lorry.
“I am.”
“Did you take especial care to study the interior of the fortress when you were there several days ago?”
“I did.”
“Have you discussed your observations with anyone since that time?”
“I have.”
“With whom?”
“With her highness, the princess,” said Baldos, without a quiver. There was a moment’s silence, and furtive looks were cast in the direction of Yetive, whose face was a study. Almost instantaneously the entire body of listeners understood that he referred to Beverly Calhoun. Baldos felt that he had been summoned before the board at the instigation of his fair protectress.
“And your impressions have gone no further?”
“They have not, sir. It was most
confidential.”
“Could you accurately reproduce the plans of the fortress?”
“I think so. It would be very simple.”
“Have you studied engineering?”
“Yes.”
“And you could scientifically enumerate the defects in the construction of the fort?”
“It would not be very difficult, sir.”
“It has come to our ears that you consider the fortress weak in several particulars. Have you so stated at any time?”
“I told the princess that the fortress is deplorably weak. In fact, I think I mentioned that it could be taken with ease.” He was not looking at Count Marlanx, but he knew that the old man’s eyes were flaming. Then he proceeded to tell the board how he could overcome the fortress, elaborating on his remarks to Beverly. The ministers listened in wonder to the words of this calm, indifferent young man.
“Will you oblige us by making a rough draft of the fort’s interior?” asked Lorry, after a solemn pause. Baldos took the paper and in remarkably quick time drew the exact lay of the fortress. The sketch went the rounds and apprehensive looks were exchanged by the ministers.
“It is accurate, by Jove,” exclaimed Lorry. “I doubt if a dweller in the fort could do better. You must have been very observing.”
“And very much interested,” snarled Marlanx.
“Only so far as I imagined my observations might be of benefit to someone else,” said Baldos coolly. Again the silence was like death.
“Do you know what you are saying, Baldos?” asked Lorry, after a moment.
“Certainly, Mr. Lorry. It is the duty of any servant of her highness to give her all that he has in him. If my observations can be of help to her, I feel in duty bound to make the best of them for her sake, not for my own.”
“Perhaps you can suggest modifications in the fort,” snarled Marlanx. “Why don’t you do it, sir, and let us have the benefit of your superior intelligence? No, gentlemen, all this prating of loyalty need not deceive us,” he cried, springing to his feet. “The fellow is nothing more nor less than an infernal spy—and the Tower is the place for him! He can do no harm there.”
The George Barr McCutcheon Megapack: 25 Classic Novels and Stories Page 60