THE DEGRADATION OF MARLANX
"Aunt Fanny, what is that white thing sticking under the window?"
demanded Beverly late the next morning. She was sitting with her face to
the windows while the old negress dressed her hair.
"Looks lak a love letteh. Miss Bev'ly," was the answer, as Aunt Fanny
gingerly placed an envelope in her mistress's hand. Beverly looked at it
in amazement. It was unmistakably a letter, addressed to her, which had
been left at her window some time in the night. Her heart gave a thump
and she went red with anticipated pleasure. With eager fingers she tore
open the envelope. The first glance at the contents brought
disappointment to her face. The missive was from Count Marlanx; but it
was a relief to find that he was very much alive and kicking. As she
read on, there came a look of perplexity which was succeeded by burning
indignation. The man in the cloak was preparing to strike.
"Your secret is mine. I know all that happened in the chapel and
underground passage. You have betrayed Graustark in aiding this man to
escape. The plot was cleverly executed, but you counted without the
jealous eye of love. You can save yourself and your honor, and perhaps
your princess, but the conditions are mine. This time there can be no
trifling. I want you to treat me fairly. God help you if you
refuse. Give me the answer I want and your secret is safe, I will shield
you with my life. At eleven o'clock I shall come to see you. I have in
my possession a document that will influence you. You will do well to
keep a close mouth until you have seen this paper."
This alarming note was all that was needed to restore fire to the
lagging blood of the American girl. Its effect was decidedly contrary to
that which Marlanx must have anticipated. Instead of collapsing, Beverly
sprang to her feet with energy and life in every fiber. Her eyes were
flashing brightly, her body quivering with the sensations of battle.
"That awful old wretch!" she cried, to Aunt Fanny's amazement. "He is
the meanest human being in all the world. But he's making the mistake of
his life, isn't he, Aunt Fanny? Oh, of course you don't know what it is,
so never mind. We've got a surprise for him. I'll see him at eleven
o'clock, and then--" she smiled quite benignly at the thought of what
she was going to say to him. Beverly felt very secure in the shadow of
the princess.
A clatter of horses' hoofs on the parade-ground drew her to the
balcony. What she saw brought joy to her heart. Lorry and Anguish, muddy
and disheveled, were dismounting before the castle.
"Ah, this is joy! Now there are three good Americans here. I'm not
afraid," she said bravely. Aunt Fanny nodded her head in approval,
although she did not know what it was all about. Curiosity more than
alarm made Beverly eager to see the document which old Marlanx held in
reserve for her. She determined to met him at eleven.
A message from the princess announced the unexpected return of the two
Americans. She said they were (to use Harry Anguish's own expression)
"beastly near starvation" and clamored for substantial breakfasts,
Beverly was urged to join them and to hear the latest news from the
frontier.
Lorry and Anguish were full of the excitement on which they had lived
for many hours. They had found evidence of raids by the Dawsbergen
scouts and had even caught sight of a small band of fleeing horsemen.
Lorry reluctantly admitted that Gabriel's army seemed loyal to him and
that there was small hope of a conflict being averted, as he had
surmised, through the defection of the people. He was surprised but not
dismayed when Yetive told him certain portions of the story in regard to
Marlanx; and, by no means averse to seeing the old man relegated to the
background, heartily endorsed the step taken by his wife. He was fair
enough, however, to promise the general a chance to speak in his own
defense, if he so desired. He had this in view when he requested Marlanx
to come to the castle at eleven o'clock for consultation.
"Gabriel is devoting most of his energy now to hunting that poor Dantan
into his grave," said Anguish. "I believe he'd rather kill his
half-brother than conquer Graustark. Why, the inhuman monster has set
himself to the task of obliterating everything that reminds him of
Dantan. We learned from spies down there that he issued an order for the
death of Dantan's sister, a pretty young thing named Candace, because
he believed she was secretly aiding her fugitive brother. She escaped
from the palace in Serros a week ago, and no one knows what has become
of her. There's a report that she was actually killed, and that the
story of her flight is a mere blind on the part of Gabriel."
"He would do anything," cried Yetive. "Poor child; they say she is like
her English mother and is charming."
"That would set Gabriel against her, I fancy," went on Anguish. "And, by
the way, Miss Calhoun, we heard something definite about your
friend, Prince Dantan. It is pretty well settled that he isn't Baldos of
the guard. Dantan was seen two days ago by Captain Dangloss's men. He
was in the Dawsbergen pass and they talked with him and his men. There
was no mistake this time. The poor, half-starved chap confessed to being
the prince and begged for food for himself and his followers."
"I tried to find him, and, failing in that, left word in the pass that
if he would but cast his lot with us in this trouble we soon would
restore him to his throne," said Lorry. "He may accept and we shall have
him turning up here some day, hungry for revenge. And now, my dear
Beverly, how are you progressing with the excellent Baldos, of whom we
cannot make a prince, no matter how hard we try?"
Beverly and the princess exchanged glances in which consternation was
difficult to conceal. It was clear to Beverly that Yetive had not told
her husband of the escape.
"I don't know anything about Baldos," she answered steadily. "Last night
someone shot at him in the park."
"The deuce you say!"
"In order to protect him until you returned, Gren, I had him transferred
to guard duty inside the castle," explained the princess. "It really
seemed necessary. General Marlanx expects to present formal charges
against him this morning, so I suppose we shall have to put him in irons
for a little while. It seems too bad, doesn't it, Gren?"
"Yes. He's as straight as a string, I'll swear," said Lorry
emphatically.
"I'll bet he wishes he were safely out of this place," ventured Anguish,
and two young women busied themselves suddenly with their coffee.
"The chance is he's sorry he ever came into it," said Lorry
tantalizingly.
While they were waiting for Marlanx the young Duke of Mizrox was
announced. The handsome Axphainian came with relief and dismay
struggling for mastery in his face.
"Your highness," he said, after the greetings, "I am come to inform you
that Graustark has one prince less to account for. Axphain has found her
fugitive."
"When?" cried the princess and Beverly in one voice and with astonishing
eagerness, not unmixed with dismay.
"Three days ago," was the reply.
"Oh," came in deep relief from Beverly as she sank back into her
chair. The same fear had lodged in the hearts of the two fair
conspirators--that they had freed Baldos only to have him fall into the
hands of his deadliest foes.
"I have a message by courier from my uncle in Axphain," said Mizrox. "He
says that Frederic was killed near Labbot by soldiers, after making a
gallant fight, on last Sunday night. The Princess Volga is rejoicing,
and has amply rewarded his slayers. Poor Frederic! He knew but little
happiness, in this life."
There was a full minute of reflection before any of his hearers
expressed the thought that had framed itself in every mind.
"Well, since Dantan and Frederic are accounted for, Baldos is absolutely
obliged to be Christobal," said Anguish resignedly.
"He's just Baldos," observed Beverly, snuffing out the faint hope that
had lingered so long. Then she said to herself: "And I don't care,
either. I only wish he were back here again. I'd be a good deal nicer to
him."
Messengers flew back and forth, carrying orders from the castle to
various quarters. The ministers were called to meet at twelve
o'clock. Underneath all the bustle there was a tremendous impulse of
American cunning, energy and resourcefulness. Everyone caught the
fever. Reserved old diplomats were overwhelmed by their own enthusiasm;
custom-bound soldiers forgot the hereditary caution and fell into the
ways of the new leaders without a murmur. The city was wild with
excitement, for all believed that the war was upon them. There was but
one shadow overhanging the glorious optimism of Graustark--the ugly,
menacing attitude of Axphain. Even the Duke of Mizrox could give no
assurance that his country would remain neutral.
Colonel Quinnox came to the castle in haste and perturbation. It was he
who propounded the question that Yetive and Beverly were expecting:
"Where is Baldos?" Of course, the flight of the suspected guard was soon
a matter of certainty. A single imploring glance from the princess,
meant for the faithful Quinnox alone, told him as plainly as words could
have said that she had given the man his freedom. And Quinnox would have
died a thousand times to protect the secret of his sovereign, for had
not twenty generations of Quinnoxes served the rulers of Graustark with
unflinching loyalty? Baron Dangloss may have suspected the trick, but he
did not so much as blink when the princess instructed him to hunt high
and low for the fugitive.
Marlanx came at eleven. Under the defiant calmness of his bearing there
was lurking a mighty fear. His brain was scourged by thoughts of
impending disgrace. The princess had plainly threatened his
degradation. After all these years, he was to tremble with shame and
humiliation; he was to cringe where he had always boasted of domineering
power. And besides all this, Marlanx had a bullet wound in his left
shoulder! The world could not have known, for he knew how to conceal
pain.
He approached the slender, imperious judge in the council-chamber with a
defiant leer on his face. If he went down into the depths he would drag
with him the fairest treasure he had coveted in all his years of lust
and desire.
"A word with you," he said in an aside to Beverly, as she came from the
council-chamber, in which she felt she should not sit. She stopped and
faced him. Instinctively she looked to see if he bore evidence of a
wound. She was positive that her bullet had struck him the night before,
and that Marlanx was the man with the cloak.
"Well?" she said coldly. He read her thoughts and smiled, even as his
shoulder burned with pain.
"I will give you the chance to save yourself. I love you. I want you. I
must have you for my own," he was saying.
"Stop, sir! It may be your experience in life that women kneel to you
when you command. It may be your habit to win what you set about to
win. But you have a novel way of presenting your _devoire_, I must
say. Is this the way in which you won the five unfortunates whom you
want me to succeed? Did you scare them into submission?"
"No, no! I cared nothing for them. You are the only one I ever loved--"
"Really, Count Marlanx, you are most amusing," she interrupted, with a
laugh that stung him to the quick. "You have been unique in your
love-making. I am not used to your methods. Besides, after having known
them, I'll confess that I don't like them in the least. You may have
been wonderfully successful in the past, but you were not dealing with
an American girl. I have had enough of your insults. Go! Go in and
face--"
"Have a care, girl!" he snarled. "I have it in my power to crush you."
"Pooh!" came scornfully from her lips. "If you molest me further I shall
call Mr. Lorry. Let me pass!"
"Just glance at this paper, my beauty. I fancy you'll change your
tune. It goes before the eyes of the council, unless you--" he paused
significantly.
Beverly took the document and with dilated eyes read the revolting
charges against her honor. Her cheeks grew white with anger, then
flushed a deep crimson.
"You fiend!" she cried, glaring at him so fiercely that he instinctively
shrank back, the vicious grin dying in his face. "I'll show you how much
I fear you. I shall give this revolting thing to the princess. She may
read it to the cabinet, for all I care. No one will believe you. They'll
kill you for this!"
She turned and flew into the presence of the princess and her
ministers. Speeding to the side of Yetive, she thrust the paper into her
hands. Surprise and expectancy filled the eyes of all assembled.
"Count Marlanx officially charges me with--with--Read it, your
highness," she cried distractedly.
Yetive read it, pale-faced and cold. A determined gleam appeared in her
eyes as she passed the document to her husband.
"Allode," Lorry said to an attendant, after a brief glance at its
revolting contents, "ask Count Marlanx to appear here instantly. He is
outside the door."
Lorry's anger was hard to control. He clenched his hands and there was a
fine suggestion of throttling in the way he did it. Marlanx, entering
the room, saw that he was doomed. He had not expected Beverly to take
this appalling step. The girl, tears in her eyes, rushed to a window,
hiding her face from the wondering ministers. Her courage suddenly
failed her. If the charges were read aloud before these men it seemed to
her that she never could lift her eyes again. A mighty longing for
Washington, her father and the big Calhoun boys, rushed to her heart as
she stood there and awaited the crash. But Lorry was a true nobleman.
"Gentlemen," he said quietly, "Count Marlanx has seen fit to charge Miss
Calhoun with complicity in the flight of Baldos. I will not read the
charges to you. They are unworthy of one who has held the highest
position in the army of Graustark. He has--"
"Read this, my husband, before you proceed further," said Yetive,
thrusting into his hand a line she had written with feverish
haste. Lorry smiled gravely before he read aloud the brief edict which
removed General Marlanx from the command of the army of Graustark.
"Is this justice?" protested Marlanx angrily. "Will you not give me a
hearing? I beseech--"
"Silence!" commanded the princess. "What manner of hearing did you
expect to give Miss Calhoun? It is enough, sir. There shall be no
cowards in my army."
"Coward?" he faltered. "Have I not proved my courage on the field of
battle? Am I to be called a--"
"Bravery should not end when the soldier quits the field of battle. You
have had a hearing. Count Marlanx. I heard the truth about you last
night."
"From Miss Calhoun?" sneered he viciously. "I must be content to accept
this dismissal, your highness. There is no hope for me. Some day you may
pray God to forgive you for the wrong you have done your most loyal
servant. There is no appeal from your decision; but as a subject of
Graustark I insist that Miss Calhoun shall be punished for aiding in the
escape of this spy and traitor. He is gone, and it was she who led him
through the castle to the outer world. She cannot deny this,
gentlemen. I defy her to say she did not accompany Baldos through the
secret passage last night."
"It will do no harm to set herself right by denying this accusation,"
suggested Count Halfont solemnly. Every man in the cabinet and army had
hated Marlanx for years. His degradation was not displeasing to
them. They would ask no questions.
But Beverly Calhoun stood staring out of the window, out upon the castle
park and its gay sunshine. She did not answer, for she did not hear the
premier's words. Her brain was whirling madly with other thoughts. She
was trying to believe her eyes.
"The spy is gone," cried Marlanx, seeing a faint chance to redeem
himself at her expense. "She can not face my charge. Where is your
friend, Miss Calhoun?"
Beverly faced them with a strange, subdued calmness in her face. Her
heart was throbbing wildly in the shelter of this splendid disguise.
"I don't know what all this commotion is about," she said. "I only know
that I have been dragged into it shamelessly by that old man over there,
If you step to the window you may see Baldos himself. He has not
fled. He is on duty!"
Baldos was striding steadily across the park in plain view of all.