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Updated: May 17, 2025
When, at twilight that evening, the launch came chugging back to the yacht with the mail from Naples, Benton caught sight of a blue envelope in which he recognized the form of the Italian telegraph. He tore it open and his brows contracted in incredulous wonderment as he read the message. "Miss Carstow and two other ladies arrive Parker's Hotel Naples Tuesday afternoon.
"Your High Miss Carstow," Von Ritz spoke with a deferential finality "believe me, some things are inevitable." Suddenly the car stopped. The girl made a movement as though she would rise, but the man's arm quietly stretched itself across before her, not touching her, but forming an effective barrier. She did not speak, but her eyes blazed indignantly.
Here she could be Miss Carstow and cease to be Cara of Maritzburg. I am sorry if you and she must pay for these vacations with your happiness. I see now that people who are sentenced to imprisonment, should not play with liberty." "She is not going to play with liberty," declared Benton categorically. "She is going to have it. She is going to have for the rest of her life just what she wants."
"Certainly, Miss Carstow," he continued gravely. "Time has elapsed since the days of your pinafores and braids, when I was honored with the sobriquet of 'Soldier-man' and you were the 'Little Empress." His voice was one that would have lent itself to eloquence. Now its even modulation carried a sort of cold charm. "You do not like me," he repeated. "I don't know," she answered simply.
"Yet even then, Miss Carstow," he calmly resumed, "when danger threatens you or your throne, I shall take such means as I can to avert that danger, as I am doing now. Even though" for a moment the cold, metallic evenness left his voice and a human note stole into his words "even though the reward be contempt." She did not answer.
"If Miss Carstow" he uttered the assumed name with distaste "will excuse you," he suggested, "I should like a word." Von Ritz led the way out of doors and between the tables and trellises of the garden until he came upon a spot which seemed to promise the greatest possible degree of privacy. There he stopped and stood looking straight ahead of him. "All that I now tell you, Mr.
Pagratide drew a labored breath, but when he raised his head it was to lift his brows inquiringly. "For what?" he asked in an equally low tone. "Have I asked any questions?" In a matter-of-fact voice he added: "It is growing late. If Miss Carstow has finished the inspection of your yacht, I suggest a return." Benton recognized the other's refusal to read his motive.
"Your Highness misunderstands," he said coldly. "I obey the throne. If I live long enough to serve it in another reign, Your Highness will be Your Majesty. Yet even then will your commands be no more supreme to me no more sacred than now. But even then, Your Highness " "Call me Miss Carstow," she interrupted in impassioned anger. "I will have my freedom for to-night at least."
Then the small boats which bob alongside are filled with picturesque beggars raising huge bunches of violets on bamboo poles to the deck rails, and the mingling of singing voices with guitars sets it all to music. On the forward deck Benton stood leaning on the rail and looking toward the city. At his side was Cara Carstow.
She only inclined her head in greeting, and waited for Von Ritz to speak. He bowed low, and his manner was ceremonious. "You do not like me " He smiled, pausing as though in doubt as to what form of address he should employ; then he asked: "What shall I call you?" "Miss Carstow," she prompted, in a voice that seemed to raise a quarantine flag above him.
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