The George Barr McCutcheon MEGAPACK ®. George Barr McCutcheon

with him, and refused to tell whither he went. We only know that he was in the southern part of Graustark three days ago. Our new guard speaks many languages, but he has never been heard to use that of Dawsbergen. That fact in itself is not surprising, for, of all things, he would avoid his mother tongue. Dantan is part English by birth and wholly so by cultivation. In that he evidently finds a mate in this Baldos.”

      “Then, he really isn’t Prince Dantan?” cried Beverly, as though a cherished ideal had been shattered.

      “Not if we are to believe the tales from the south. Here is another complication, however. There is, as you know, Count Halfont, and perhaps all of you, for that matter, a pretender to the throne of Axphain, the fugitive Prince Frederic. He is described as young, good looking, a scholar and the next thing to a pauper.”

      “Baldos a mere pretender,” cried Beverly in real distress. “Never!”

      “At any rate, he is not what he pretends to be,” said the baron, with a wise smile.

      “Then, you think he may be Prince Frederic?” asked Lorry, deeply interested.

      “I am inclined to think so, although another complication has arisen. May it please your highness, I am in an amazingly tangled state of mind,” admitted the baron, passing his hand over his brow.

      “Do you mean that another mysterious prince has come to life?” asked Yetive, her eyes sparkling with interest in the revelations.

      “Early this morning a despatch came to me from the Grand Duke Michael of Rapp-Thorberg, a duchy in western Europe, informing me that the duke’s eldest son had fled from home and is known to have come to the far east, possibly to Graustark.”

      “Great Scott!” exclaimed Anguish. “It never rains but it hails, so here’s hail to the princes three.”

      “We are the Mecca for runaway royalty, it seems,” said Count Halfont.

      “Go on with the story, Baron Dangloss,” cried the princess. “It is like a book.”

      “A description of the young man accompanies the offer of a large reward for information that may lead to his return home for reconciliation. And—” here the baron paused dramatically.

      “And what?” interjected Beverly, who could not wait.

      “The description fits our friend Baldos perfectly!”

      “You don’t mean it?” exclaimed Lorry. “Then, he may be any one of the three you have mentioned?”

      “Let me tell you what the grand duke’s secretary says. I have the official notice, but left it in my desk. The runaway son of the grand duke is called Christobal. He is twenty-seven years of age, speaks English fluently, besides French and our own language. It seems that he attended an English college with Prince Dantan and some of our own young men who are still in England. Six weeks ago he disappeared from his father’s home. At the same time a dozen wild and venturous retainers left the grand duchy. The party was seen in Vienna a week later, and the young duke boldly announced that he was off to the east to help his friend Dantan in the fight for his throne. Going on the theory that Baldos is this same Christobal, we have only to provide a reason for his preferring the wilds to the comforts of our cities. In the first place, he knows there is a large reward for his apprehension and he fears—our police. In the second place, he does not care to direct the attention of Prince Dantan’s foes to himself. He missed Dantan in the hills and doubtless was lost for weeks. But the true reason for his flight is made plain in the story that was printed recently in Paris and Berlin newspapers. According to them, Christobal rebelled against his father’s right to select a wife for him. The grand duke had chosen a noble and wealthy bride, and the son had selected a beautiful girl from the lower walks of life. Father and son quarreled and neither would give an inch. Christobal would not marry his father’s choice, and the grand duke would not sanction his union with the fair plebeian.”

      Here Beverly exclaimed proudly, her face glowing: “He doesn’t look like the sort of man who could be bullied into marrying anybody if he didn’t want to.”

      “And he strikes me as the sort who would marry any one he set his heart upon having,” added the princess, with a taunting glance at Miss Calhoun.

      “Umph!” sniffed Beverly defiantly. The baron went on with his narrative, exhibiting signs of excitement.

      “To lend color to the matter, Christobal’s sweetheart, the daughter of a game-warden, was murdered the night before her lover fled. I know nothing of the circumstances attending the crime, but it is my understanding that Christobal is not suspected. It is possible that he is ignorant even now of the girl’s fate.”

      “Well, by the gods, we have a goodly lot of heroes about us,” exclaimed Lorry.

      “But, after all,” ventured the Countess Halfont, “Baldos may be none of these men.”

      “Good heavens, Aunt Yvonne, don’t suggest anything so distressing,” said Yetive. “He must be one of them.”

      “I suggest a speedy way of determining the matter,” said Anguish. “Let us send for Baldos and ask him point blank who he is. I think it is up to him to clear away the mystery.”

      “No!” cried Beverly, starting to her feet.

      “It seems to be the only way,” said Lorry.

      “But I promised him that no questions should be asked,” said Beverly, almost tearfully but quite resolutely. “Didn’t I, yet—your highness?”

      “Alas, yes!” said the princess, with a pathetic little smile of resignation, but with loyalty in the clasp of her hand.

      CHAPTER XIV

      A VISIT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES

      That same afternoon Baldos, blissfully ignorant of the stir he had created in certain circles, rode out for the first time as a member of the Castle Guard. He and Haddan were detailed by Colonel Quinnox to act as private escort to Miss Calhoun until otherwise ordered. If Haddan thought himself wiser than Baldos in knowing that their charge was not the princess, he was very much mistaken; if he enjoyed the trick that was being played on his fellow guardsman, his enjoyment was as nothing as compared to the pleasure Baldos was deriving from the situation. The royal victoria was driven to the fortress, conveying the supposed princess and the Countess Dagmar to the home of Count Marlanx. The two guards rode bravely behind the equipage, resplendent in brilliant new uniforms. Baldos was mildly surprised and puzzled by the homage paid the young American girl. It struck him as preposterous that the entire population of Edelweiss could be in the game to deceive him.

      “Who is the princess’s companion?” he inquired of Haddan, as they left the castle grounds.

      “The Countess Dagmar, cousin to her highness. She is the wife of Mr. Anguish.”

      “I have seen her before,” said Baldos, a strange smile on his face.

      The Countess Dagmar found it difficult at first to meet the eye of the new guard, but he was so punctiliously oblivious that her courage was restored. She even went so far as to whisper in Beverly’s ear that he did not remember her face, and probably would not recognize Yetive as one of the eavesdroppers. The princess had flatly refused to accompany them on the visit to the fortress because of Baldos. Struck by a sudden impulse, Beverly called Baldos to the side of the vehicle.

      “Baldos, you behaved very nicely yesterday in exposing the duplicity of those young women,” she said.

      “I am happy to have pleased your highness,” he said steadily.

      “It may interest you to know that they ceased to be ladies-in-waiting after that exposure.”

      “Yes, your highness, it certainly is interesting,” he said, as he fell back into position beside Haddan. During the remainder of the ride he caught himself time after time gazing reflectively at the back of her proud little head, possessed of an almost uncontrollable desire to touch the soft brown hair.

      “You