CHAPTER IV
THE RAGGED RETINUE
"I am very much relieved," said Beverly, who was not at all relieved."But why have you stopped us in this manner?"
"Stopped you?" cried the man with the patch. "I implore you to unsaythat, your highness. Your coach was quite at a standstill before we knewof its presence. You do us a grave injustice."
"It's very strange," muttered Beverly, somewhat taken aback.
"Have you observed that it is quite dark?" asked the leader, puttingaway his brief show of indignation.
"Dear me; so it is!" cried she, now able to think more clearly.
"And you are miles from an inn or house of any kind," he went on. "Doyou expect to stay here all night?"
"I'm--I'm not afraid," bravely shivered Beverly.
"It is most dangerous."
"I have a revolver," the weak little voice went on.
"Oho! What is it for?"
"To use in case of emergency."
"Such as repelling brigands who suddenly appear upon the scene?"
"Yes."
"May I ask why you did not use it this evening?"
"Because it is locked up in one of my bags--I don't know just whichone--and Aunt Fanny has the key," confessed Beverly.
The chief of the "honest men" laughed again, a clear, ringing laugh thatbespoke supreme confidence in his right to enjoy himself.
"And who is Aunt Fanny?" he asked, covering his patch carefully with hisslouching hat.
"My servant. She's colored."
"Colored?" he asked in amazement. "What do you mean?"
"Why, she's a negress. Don't you know what a colored person is?"
"You mean she is a slave--a black slave?"
"We don't own slaves any mo'--more." He looked more puzzled thanever--then at last, to satisfy himself, walked over and peered into thecoach. Aunt Fanny set up a dismal howl; an instant later Sir Honesty waspushed aside, and Miss Calhoun was anxiously trying to comfort her oldfriend through the window. The man looked on in silent wonder for aminute, and then strode off to where a group of his men stood talking.
"Is yo' daid yit, Miss Bev'ly--is de end came?" moaned AuntFanny. Beverly could not repress a smile.
"I am quite alive, Auntie. These men will not hurt us. They are _verynice_ gentlemen." She uttered the last observation in a loud voiceand it had its effect, for the leader came to her side with longstrides.
"Convince your servant that we mean no harm, your highness," he saideagerly, a new deference in his voice and manner. "We have only the bestof motives in mind. True, the hills are full of lawless fellows and weare obliged to fight them almost daily, but you have fallen in withhonest men--very nice gentlemen, I trust. Less than an hour ago we put aband of robbers to flight--"
"I heard the shooting," cried Beverly. "It was that which put my escortto flight."
"They could not have been soldiers of Graustark, then, your highness,"quite gallantly.
"They were Cossacks, or whatever you call them. But, pray, why do youcall me 'your highness'?" demanded Beverly. The tall leader swept theground with his hat once more.
"All the outside world knows the Princess Yetive--why not the humblemountain man? You will pardon me, but every man in the hills knows thatyou are to pass through on the way from St. Petersburg to Ganlook. Weare not so far from the world, after all, we rough people of thehills. We know that your highness left St. Petersburg by rail lastSunday and took to the highway day before yesterday, because the floodshad washed away the bridges north of Axphain. Even the hills have eyesand ears."
Beverly listened with increasing perplexity. It was true that she hadleft St. Petersburg on Sunday; that the unprecedented floods had stoppedall railway traffic in the hills, compelling her to travel for manymiles by stage, and that the whole country was confusing her in somestrange way with the Princess Yetive. The news had evidently spedthrough Axphain and the hills with the swiftness of fire. It would beuseless to deny the story; these men would not believe her. In a flashshe decided that it would be best to pose for the time being as theruler of Graustark. It remained only for her to impress upon Aunt Fannythe importance of this resolution.
"What wise old hills they must be," she said, with evasive enthusiasm."You cannot expect me to admit, however, that I am the princess," shewent on.
"It would not be just to your excellent reputation for tact if you didso, your highness," calmly spoke the man. "It is quite as easy to saythat you are not the princess as to say that you are, so what matters,after all? We reserve the right, however, to do homage to the queen whorules over these wise old hills. I offer you the humble services ofmyself and my companions. We are yours to command."
"I am very grateful to find that you are not brigands, believe me," saidBeverly. "Pray tell me who you are, then, and you shall be sufficientlyrewarded for your good intentions."
"I? Oh, your highness, I am Baldos, the goat-hunter, a poor subject forreward at your hands. I may as well admit that I am a poacher, and haveno legal right to the prosperity of your hills. The only reward I canask is forgiveness for trespassing upon the property of others."
"You shall receive pardon for all transgressions. But you must get me tosome place of safety," said Beverly, eagerly.
"And quickly, too, you might well have added," he said, lightly. "Thehorses have rested, I think, so with your permission we may proceed. Iknow of a place where you may spend the night comfortably and berefreshed for the rough journey to-morrow."
"To-morrow? How can I go on? I am alone," she cried, despairingly.
"Permit me to remind you that you are no longer alone. You have a raggedfollowing, your highness, but it shall be a loyal one. Will you re-enterthe coach? It is not far to the place I speak of, and I myself willdrive you there. Come, it is getting late, and your retinue, at least,is hungry."
He flung open the coach door, and his hat swept the ground oncemore. The light of a lantern played fitfully upon his dark, gaunt face,with its gallant smile and ominous patch. She hesitated, fear enteringher soul once more. He looked up quickly and saw the indecision in hereyes, the mute appeal.
"Trust me, your highness," he said, gravely, and she allowed him to handher into the coach.
A moment later he was upon the driver's box, reins in hand. Calling outto his companions in a language strange to Beverly, he cracked the whip,and once more they were lumbering over the wretched road. Beverly sankback into the seat with a deep sigh of resignation.
"Well, I'm in for it," she thought. "It doesn't matter whether they arethieves or angels, I reckon I'll have to take what comes. He doesn'tlook very much like an angel, but he looked at me just now as if hethought I were one. Dear me, I wish I were back in Washin'ton!"