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Updated: June 14, 2025
Here was he, Truxton King, idle and useless for more than a week, beyond range of the guns of the foe, while down there was Vos Engo in the thick of it, at the side of the girl he loved in those long hours of peril, able to comfort her, to cheer her, to fight for her. It was maddening. He was sick with uncertainty, consumed by jealousy. His pipe was not out now: he was smoking furiously.
She was saying "Truxton, dear, I did not love Eric Vos Engo. I just thought it was love. I never really knew what love is until you came into my life. Then I knew the difference. That's what made it so hard. I had let him believe that I might care for him some day. And I did like him. So I " "You are sure terribly sure that I am the only man you ever really loved?" he interrupted.
Vos Engo, being an officer in the Royal Guard, rode ahead by order of Colonel Quinnox. Truxton, therefore, had her back in view at rather a vexing distance, too for mile after mile of the ride to the city. Not so far ahead, however, that he could not observe every movement of her light, graceful figure as she swept down the King's Highway. She was a perfect horsewoman, firm, jaunty, free.
A man who stood in the tobacconist's shop on the station platform smiled quietly to himself as the train pulled out. Then he walked briskly away. It was Peter Brutus, the lawyer. A most alluring trap had been set for John Tullis! The party that had gone to Ganlook Gap in charge of Count Vos Engo returned at nightfall, no wiser than when it left the barracks at noon.
"See that man over there by the fountain, Mr. King?" "Bobby!" cried the lady sharply. "Good-bye, Mr. King. Remember me to your sister when you write. She " "That's Aunt Loraine's beau," announced the Prince. "That's Count Eric Vos Engo." Truxton's look turned to one of interest at once. The man designated was a slight, swarthy fellow in the uniform of a colonel.
The Countess Marlanx, tall and exquisite, was a little apart from the others, with Baron Dangloss and young Count Vos Engo whom Truxton was ready to hate because he was a recognised suitor for the hand of the slim, young person in grey. He thought he had liked her beyond increase in the rajah silk, but now he confessed to himself that he was mistaken. He liked her better in a grey riding habit.
Strict orders, backed by method, were issued to the effect that no one was to pass through the gates during the day, except by special permission from General Braze. Count Vos Engo was eager to accompany the expedition to Dawsbergen in search of his wayward lady-love.
So, you see, it's all right. Say, Uncle Caspar, may I take a crack at old Marlanx with my new rifle if I get a chance? I've been practising on the target range, and Uncle Jack says I'm a reg'lar Buffalo Bill." Count Halfont unceremoniously hugged his wriggling grand-nephew. A cheer went up from the others. "Long live Prince Robin!" shouted Count Vos Engo. Prince Robin looked abashed.
Perhaps Vos Engo has the better of me just now, but I'm in the lists with him with all of them. If I get you out of this place and myself as well I want you to understand that from this very minute I am trying to win you if it lies in the power of any American to win a girl who has suitors among the nobility. Will will you give me a chance just a ghost of a chance? I'll try to do the rest."
But, if I don't do any more, I pledge you that I'll save you from Marlanx." "Oh, I know you will. You must, Truxton." "I'd I'd like to be sure that I am also saving you from Vos Engo. I hate to think of you throwing yourself away on one of these blithering, fortune-hunting noblemen." She pressed his arm again.
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