XXV. "BECAUSE I LOVE HIM"
The next morning Edelweiss was astir early. Great throngs of peopleflocked the streets long before the hour set for the signing of thedecree that was to divide the north from the south. There were men andwomen from the mountains, from the southern valleys, from the plains tothe north and east. Sullen were the mutterings, threatening the faces,resentful the hearts of those who crowded the shops, the public placesand the streets. Before nine o'clock the great concourse of people beganto push toward the castle. Castle Avenue was packed with the movingmasses. Thousands upon thousands of this humbled race gathered outsidethe walls, waiting for news from the castle with the spark of hope thatdoes not die until the very end, nursing the possibility that somethingmight intervene at the last moment to save the country from disgrace andruin.
A strong guard was required to keep the mob back from the gates, and theforce of men on the wall had been quadrupled. Business in the citywas suspended. The whole nation, it seemed, stood before the walls,awaiting, with bated breath and dismal faces, the announcement thatYetive had deeded to Bolaroz the lands and lives of half of hersubjects. The northern plainsmen who were so soon to acknowledge Axphainsovereignty, wept and wailed over their unhappy lot. Brothers andsisters from the south cursed and moaned in sympathy.
Shortly before nine o'clock, Harry Anguish, with his guard of six, rodeup to the castle. Captain Dangloss was beside him on his gray charger.They had scarcely passed inside the gates when a cavalcade of mountedmen came riding up the avenue from the Hotel Regengetz. Then thehowling, the hissing, the hooting began. Maledictions were hurled atthe heads of Axphain noblemen as they rode between the maddened linesof people. They smiled sardonically in reply to the impotent signs ofhatred, but they were glad when the castle gates closed between them andthe vast, despairing crowd, in which the tempest of revolt was brewingwith unmistakable energy.
Prince Bolaroz, the Duke of Mizrox and the ministers were already inthe castle and had been there since the previous afternoon. In the royalpalace the excitement was intense, but it was of the subdued kind thatstrains the nerves to the point where control is martyrdom.
When the attendants went to the bed chamber of the Princess at seveno'clock, as was their wont, they found, to their surprise, no onestanding guard.
The Princess was not in her chamber, nor had she been there during thenight. The bed was undisturbed. In some alarm the two women ran to herparlor, then to the boudoir. Here they found her asleep on the divan,attired in the gown she had worn since the evening before, now crumpledand creased, the proof positive of a restless, miserable night.
Her first act after awakening and untangling the meshes in herthrobbing, uncomprehending brain, was to send for Quinnox. She couldscarcely wait for his appearance and the assurance that Lorry was safelyout of danger. The footman who had been sent to fetch the captain wasa long time in returning. She was dressed in her breakfast gown longbefore he came in with the report that the captain was nowhere to befound. Her heart gave a great throb of joy. She alone could explain hisabsence. To her it meant but one thing: Lorry's flight from the castle.Where else could Quinnox be except with the fugitive, perhaps once moreinside St. Valentine's? With the great load of suspense off her mindshe cared not for the trials that still confronted her on that dreadedmorning. She had saved him, and she was willing to pay the price.
Preparations began at once for the eventful transaction in the throneroom. The splendor of two Courts was to shine in rivalry. Ten o'clockwas the hour set for the meeting of the two rulers, the victor and thevictim. Her nobles and her ladies, her ministers, her guards and herlackeys moved about in the halls, dreading the hour, brushing againstthe hated Axphain guests. In one of the small waiting rooms sat theCount and Countess Halfont, the latter in tears. The young CountessDagmar stood at a window with Harry Anguish. The latter was flushed andnervous and acted like a man who expects that which is unexpected byothers. With a strange confidence in his voice, he sought to cheerhis depressed friends, but the cheerfulness was not contagious. Thesombreness of a burial hung over the castle.
Half an hour before the time set for the meeting in the throne roomYetive sent for her uncle, her aunt and Dagmar. As Anguish and thelatter followed the girl turned her sad, puzzled eyes up to the face ofthe tall American and asked:
"Are you rejoicing over our misfortune? You do not show a particle ofregret. Do you forget that we are sacrificing a great deal to save thelife of your friend? I do not understand how you can be so heartless."
"If you knew what I know you'd jump so high you could crack those prettyheels of yours together ten times before you touched the floor again,"said he, warmly.
"Please tell me," she cried. "I knew there was something."
"But I am afraid so high a jump would upset you for the day. You mustwait awhile, Dagmar." It was the first time he had called her Dagmar,and she looked startled.
"I am not used to waiting," she said, confusedly.
"I think I can explain satisfactorily when I have more time," he said,softly in her ear, and, although she tried, she could find no words tocontinue. He left her at the head of the stairs, and did not see heragain until she passed him in the throne room. Then she was pale andbrave and trembling.
Prince Bolaroz and his nobles stood to the right of the throne, theGraustark men and women of degree to the left, while near the door,on both sides were to be seen the leading military men of bothprincipalities. Near the Duke of Mizrox was stationed the figure ofGabriel, Prince of Dawsbergen. He had come, with a half dozen followers,among a crowd of unsuspecting Axphainians, and had taken his positionnear the throne. Anguish entered with Baron Dangloss and they stoodtogether near the doorway, the latter whiter than he had ever been inhis life.
Then came the hush of expectancy. The doors swung open, the curtainsparted and the Princess entered.
She was supported by the arm of her tall uncle, Caspar of Halfont. Pagescarried the train of her dress, a jeweled gown of black. As she advancedto the throne, calm and stately, those assembled bent knee to thefairest woman the eye ever had looked upon.
The calm, proud exterior hid the most unhappy of hearts. The resolutecourage with which her spirit had been braced for the occasion wasremarkable in more ways than one. Among other inspirations behind thevaliant show was the bravery of a guilty conscience. Her composuresustained a shock when she passed Allode at the door. That faithful,heart-broken servitor looked at her face with pleading, horror-struckeyes as much as to say: "Good God, are you going to destroy Graustarkfor the sake of that murderer? Have pity on us--have pity!"
Before taking her seat on the throne, she swept the thrilled assemblagewith her wide blue eyes. There were shadows beneath them and therewere wells of tears behind them. As she looked upon the little knot ofwhite-faced northern barons, her knees trembled and her heart gave agreat throb of pity. Still the face was resolute. Then she saw Anguishand the suffering Dangloss; then the accusing, merciless eyes ofGabriel. At sight of him she started violently and an icy fear creptinto her soul. Instinctively she searched the gorgeous company for thecaptain of the guard. Her staunchest ally was not there. Was she tohear the condemning words alone? Would the people do as Quinnox hadprophesied, or would they believe Gabriel and curse her?
She sank into the great chair and sat with staring, helpless eyes,deserted and feeble.
At last the whirling brain ended its flight and settled down to theissue first at hand-the transaction with Bolaroz. Summoning all herself-control, she said:
"You are come, most noble Bolaroz, to draw from us the price of ourdefeat. We are loyal to our compact, as you are to yours, sire. Yet, inthe presence of my people and in the name of mercy and justice, I askyou to grant us respite. You are rich and powerful, we despoiled andstruggling beneath a weight we can lift and displace if given a fewshort years in which to grow and gather strength. At this last hour inthe fifteen years of our indebtedness, I sue in supplication forthe leniency that you can so well accord. It i
s on the advice of mycounsellors that I put away personal pride and national dignity tomake this request, trusting to your goodness of heart. If you will nothearken to our petition for a renewal of negotiations, there is but onecourse open to Graustark. We can and will pay our debt of honor."
Bolaroz stood before her, dark and uncompromising. She saw the futilityof her plea.
"I have not forgotten, most noble petitioner, that you are ruler here,not I. Therefore I am in no way responsible for the conditions whichconfront you, except that I am an honest creditor, come for his honestdues. This is the twentieth of November. You have had fifteen years toaccumulate enough to meet the requirements of this day. Should I sufferfor your faults? There is in the treaty a provision which applies toan emergency of this kind. Your inability to liquidate in gold does notprevent the payment of this honest debt in land, as provided for in thesixth clause of the agreement. 'All that part of Graustark north of aline drawn directly from east to west between the provinces of Ganlookand Doswan, a tract comprising Doswan, Shellotz, Varagan, Oeswald,Sesmai and Gattabatton.' You have two alternatives, your Highness.Produce the gold or sign the decree ceding to Axphain the landsstipulated in the treaty. I can grant no respite."
"You knew when that treaty was framed that we could raise no such fundsin fifteen years," said Halfont, forgetting himself in his indignation.Gaspon and other men present approved his hasty declaration.
"Am I dealing with the Princess of Graustark or with you, sir?" askedBolaroz, roughly.
"You are dealing with the people of Graustark, and among the poorest, I.I will sign the decree. There is nothing to be gained by appealing toyou. The papers, Gaspon, quick! I would have this transaction finishedspeedily," cried the Princess, her cheeks flushing and her eyes glowingfrom the flames of a burning conscience. The groan that went up from thenorthern nobles cut her like the slash of a knife.
"There was one other condition," said Bolaroz, hastily, unable to gloatas he had expected. "The recapture of the assassin who slew my sonwould have meant much to Graustark. It is unfortunate that your policedepartment is so inefficient." Dangloss writhed beneath this thrust.Yetive's eyes went to him, for an instant, sorrowfully. Then theydropped to the fatal document which Gaspon had placed on the tablebefore her. The lines ran together and were the color of blood.Unconsciously she took the pen in her nerveless fingers. A deep sob camefrom the breast of her gray old uncle, and Gaspon's hand shook like aleaf as he placed the seal of Graustark on the table, ready for use.
"The assassin's life could have saved you," went on Bolaroz, a vengefulglare coming to his eyes.
She looked up and her lips moved as if she would have spoken. No wordscame, no breath, it seemed to her. Casting a piteous, hunted glance overthe faces before her, she bent forward and blindly touched the pen tothe paper. The silence was that of death. Before she could make thefirst stroke, a harsh voice, in which there was combined triumph andamazement, broke the stillness like the clanging of a bell.
"Have you no honor?"
The pen dropped from her fingers as the expected condemnation came.Every eye in the house was turned toward the white, twitching face ofGabriel of Dawsbergen. He stood a little apart from his friends, hisfinger pointed throneward. The Princess stared at the nemesis-likefigure for an instant, as if petrified. Then the pent-up fear crowdedeverything out of its path. In sheer desperation, her eyes flashingwith the intensity of defiant guilt, bitter rage welling up against herpersecutor, she half arose and cried:
"Who uttered those words? Speak!"
"I, Gabriel of Dawsbergen! Where is the prisoner, madam?" rang out thevoice.
"The man is mad!" cried she, sinking back with a shudder.
"Mad, eh? Because I do as I did promise? Behold the queen of perfidy!Madam, I will be heard. Lorry is in this castle!"
"He is mad!" gasped Bolaroz, the first of the stunned spectators to findhis tongue.
There was a commotion near the door. Voices were heard outside.
"You have been duped!" insisted Gabriel, taking several steps toward thethrone. "Your idol is a traitress, a deceiver! I say he is here! She hasseen him. Let her sign that decree if she dares! I command you, Yetiveof Graustark, to produce this criminal!"
The impulse to crush the defiler was checked by the sudden appearance oftwo men inside the curtains.
"He is here!" cried a strong voice, and Lorry, breathless and haggard,pushed through the astonished crowd, followed by Captain Quinnox, uponwhose ghastly face there were bloodstains.
A shout went up from those assembled, a shout of joy. The faces ofDangloss and Allode were pictures of astonishment and--it must besaid--relief. Harry Anguish staggered but recovered himself instantly,and turned his eyes toward Gabriel. That worthy's legs trembled and hisjaw dropped.
"I have the prisoner, your Highness," said Quinnox, in hoarse,discordant tones. He stood before the throne with his captive, but darednot look his mistress in the face. As they stood there the story of thenight just passed was told by the condition of the two men. There hadbeen a struggle for supremacy in the dungeon and the prisoner had won.The one had tried to hold the other to the dungeon's safety, after hisrefusal to leave the castle, and the other had fought his way to thehalls above. It was then that Quinnox had wit enough to change frontand drag his prisoner to the place which, most of all, he had wished toavoid.
"The prisoner!" shouted the northern nobles, and in an instant thesolemn throne room was wild with excitement.
"Do not sign that decree!" cried some one from a far corner.
"Here is your man, Prince Bolaroz!" cried a baron.
"Quinnox has saved us!" shouted another.
The Princess, white as death and as motionless, sat bolt upright in herroyal seat.
"Oh!" she moaned, piteously, and, clenching her hands, she carried themto her eyes as if to shut out the sight. The Countess Halfont and Dagmarran to her side, the latter frantic with alarm. She knew more than theothers.
"Are you the fugitive?" cried Bolaroz.
I am Grenfall Lorry. Are you Bolaroz?'
"The father of the man you murdered. Ah, this is rapture!"
"I have only to say to your Highness, I did not kill your son. I swearit, so help me God!"
"Your Highness," cried Bolaroz, stepping to the throne, "destroythat decree. This brave soldier has saved Graustark. In an hour yourministers and mine will have drawn up a ten Tears' extension of time, inproper form, to which my signature shall be gladly attached. I have notforgotten my promise."
Yetive straightened suddenly, seized the pen and fiercely began to signthe decree, in spite of all and before those about her fairly realizedher intention. Lorry understood, and was the first to snatch thedocument from her hands. A half-written Yetive, a blot and a long,spluttering scratch of the pen told how near she had come to signingaway the lands of Graustark, forgetful of the fact that it could be ofno benefit to the prisoner she loved.
"Yetive!" gasped her uncle, in horror.
"She would have signed," cried Gaspon, in wonder and alarm.
"Yes, I would have signed!" she exclaimed, starting to her feet, strongand defiant. "I could not have saved his life, perhaps, but I might havesaved him from the cruel injustice that that man's vengeance would haveinvented. He is innocent, and I would give my kingdom to stay the wrongthat will be done."
"What! You defend the dog!" cried Bolaroz. "Seize him, men! I will seethat justice is done. It is no girl he has to deal with now."
"Stop!" cried the Princess, the command checking the men. Quinnox leapedin front of his charge. "He is my prisoner, and he shall have justice.Keep back your soldiery, Prince Bolaroz. It is a girl you have to dealwith. I will say to you all, my people and yours, that I believe him tobe innocent and that I sincerely regret his capture, fortunate as it maybe for us. He shall have a fair and a just trial, and I shall do all inmy power, Prince Bolaroz, to secure his acquittal."
"Why do you take this stand, Yetive? Why have you tried to shield him?"cried the
heartbroken Halfont.
She drew herself to her full height, and, sweeping the threatening crowdwith a challenge in her eyes, cried, the tones ringing strong and clearabove the growing tumult:
"Because I love him!"
As if by magic the room became suddenly still.
"Behold an honest man. I would have saved him at the cost of my honor.Scorn me if you will, but listen to this. The man who stands hereaccused came voluntarily to this castle, surrendering himself to CaptainQuinnox, that he might, though innocent, stand between us and disaster.He was safe from our pursuit, yet returned, perhaps to his death. Forme, for you and for Graustark he has done this. Is there a man among youwho would have done as much for his own country? Yet he does this for acountry to which he is stranger. I must commit him to prison once more.But," she cried in sudden fierceness, "I promise him now, beforethe trial, a royal pardon. Do I make my meaning clear to you, PrinceBolaroz?"
The white lips of the old Prince could frame no reply to this daringspeech.
"Be careful whet you say, your Highness," cried the prisoner, hastily."I must refuse to accept a pardon at the cost of your honor. It isbecause I love you better than my life that I stand here. I cannot allowyou and your people to suffer when it is in my power to prevent it. Allthat I can ask is fairness and justice. I am not guilty, and God willprotect me. Prince Bolaroz, I call upon you to keep your promise. Iam not the slayer of your son, but I am the man you would send to theblock, guilty or innocent."
As he spoke, the Princess dropped back in the chair, her rash couragegone. A stir near the doorway followed his concluding sentence, and theother American stepped forward, his face showing his excitement.
"Your Highness," he said, "I should have spoken sooner. My lips wereparted and ready to cry out when Prince Gabriel interposed and preventedthe signing of the decree. Grenfall Lorry did not kill the young Prince.I can produce the guilty man!"