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Updated: June 14, 2025


"Yes, Truxton," she said, dropping her eyes as if in deep pain. "And you have not broken your promise to him?" "No. Nor have I broken my promise to you." "He is a brave man. I can't help saying it," said the American, deep lines suddenly appearing in his face. Swiftly he turned to Vos Engo, extending his hand. "My hand, sir, to a brave man!"

Vos Engo may have had the promise, but what could it profit him if Marlanx had the girl? "I've got about as much chance as a snowball," he reflected, courage and decision growing stronger each moment. "I might just as well die one way as another. If I could only catch 'em napping for a minute, I might turn the trick.

The girl who crouched beside him was there to designate a certain figure in the ever-changing mass of humanity on the bloody parade ground. Her clear eyes sought for and found Marlanx; her unwavering finger pointed him out to the old marksman. She saw Vos Engo fall. Then a tall, well-known figure sprang into view, dashing toward her wounded lover. Her heart stopped beating.

Count Vos Engo was politely concerned, but it should not be expected that, in his present state of mind regarding her, he could be seriously grieved by anything that might have happened to the rash American. The guard about the Prince was doubled: orders requiring the strictest care of his person were issued by Count Halfont.

Truxton naturally did not expect to invade the Castle in search of the crumb of comfort he so ardently desired; he did not, however, dream that Vos Engo would deny him the privilege of staring at a certain window from a rather prim retreat in a far corner of the Plaza. He had, of course, proffered his services to Colonel Quinnox.

The look in her tired eyes went straight to his heart. Vos Engo drew back, his face set in a frown of displeasure. "My brother?" she asked, without taking her gaze from his eyes. "He is well. He will see you to-day." "And you, Truxton?" was her next question, low and quavering. "Unharmed and unchanged, Loraine," he said softly. "Tell me, did Vos Engo stand between you and the fire from the "

First, to ask you for Loraine; second, to engage you as my second." Tullis was silent for a while. Then he said, quite seriously: "King, I have looked with some favour upon Vos Engo. I thought she liked him. He isn't a bad fellow, believe me. I want Loraine to be happy. As for this promise to him, I'll talk that over with her if God permits me to see her again I shall allow her to choose, King.

For a while he worked as if in a daze; only the fierce spurring of Jack Tullis and Vos Engo, who believed himself to be an accepted suitor, awoke him from an unusual state of lethargy. It is even said that the baron shed tears without blowing his nose to discredit the emotion. The city was soon to know of the fresh outrage at the hands of the bandits in the hills.

Catching sight of Vos Engo, he hastened across the avenue and caught up to him. The Count was apparently deep in thought. "Good morning," said Truxton from behind. The other whirled quickly. He did not smile as he eyed the tall American. "I haven't had a chance to thank you for coming back for me last Saturday. Allow me to say that it was a very brave thing to do.

"I pray God it may be deferred until I am capable of defending myself," groaned Vos Engo, glaring at the other with implacable hatred in his eyes. "You might pray for my preservation, too, while you're at it," said Truxton, as he crept away to regain his rifle. There were other witnesses to Truxton's rash act. In a lofty window of the north wing crouched a white-faced girl and a grim old man.

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