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Updated: June 28, 2025
And as Carl read, a gust of wild, incredulous laughter echoed suddenly through the quiet room. Again he read, cursing the dizzy fever of his head. Houdania! Houdania! Where was Houdania? Surely the name was familiar. With a superhuman effort of will he clenched his hands and jaws and sat motionless, seeking the difficult boon of concentration.
The Bedouin with an unrelenting air of dignity and command, removed his mask and bowed low; to Diane in whose startled eyes below the Seminole turban flashed sympathy and acute regret. "Miss Westfall," said he gravely, "permit me to present to you, Prince Ronador of Houdania." White and stern, his fine eyes flashing imperially, Ronador bowed.
But he has paid heavily for the secret he tried in a drunken moment to sell to Houdania." "I do not understand Carl's part in it," said Diane. "Nor can I see " But whatever it was that Diane could not see was not destined for immediate revealment. At the mention of Carl's name by her niece, Aunt Agatha came unexpectedly into the limelight with a gurgle and fainted dead away.
"That that can not be!" faltered Diane. "It it is too preposterous." "I wish to Heaven it were!" said Philip quietly. "Whether or not it was Theodomir's wish that his daughter be reared, in the eyes of the world, as the daughter of Norman Westfall, to protect her from any consequences incident to his possible discovery and enforced return to Houdania, it is impossible to say.
Houdania! Yes, he had found Houdania. Philip Poynter had told him of the monastery months before. Philip liked to seek and find the picturesque. Thus had he come into Andorra in the Pyrenees and Wisby in the Baltic. And he Carl had found Houdania. But what of it? Ah, yes, the burning candlestick the paper the paper! And again a gust of laughter drowned the fitful crackle of the fire.
Old Poynter is a pirate, an unscrupulous, money-mad, villainous old pirate and he did something or other most unpleasant to Dad in Wall Street. And would you believe it, Susanne, Philip went fuming off huffily to some ridiculous little mountain kingdom in Europe that he was awfully keen about Houdania and rented himself out as a secretary to Baron Tregar. Just imagine!
Where is the candlestick? And the paper? Who found it?" "Carl found it," said Philip. "It was written nearly a quarter of a century ago, by one Theodomir of Houdania." Diane glanced in utter mystification at Ronador's ashen face there was a great fear in his eyes and thence to Baron Tregar. "Excellency," she appealed, "it is all very hard to understand. Who is Theodomir?
"Ronador," he said quietly, "for the sake of the lifetime friendship I have borne your father, for the sake of the position of honor and trust I hold in your father's court, for the sake of my great love for Houdania, let me say that when you find you are sinking deeper and deeper into a pitfall of errors and unhappiness and treachery, I shall be ready and willing to aid and advise you as best I may.
When the dead hand reached forth from the grave to taunt you, Ronador, I was willing at first to stoop to unutterable things to save you and Houdania from dishonor, but more and more there has been distaste in my heart for the blackness of the thing. Days back I warned you by letter that I would not see Miss Westfall coldly sacrificed for a muddle of which she knew absolutely nothing.
"My mother," said Themar sullenly, "was of Galituria. There is hatred there for Houdania a century's feud " "And you in the employ of the rival province hunting this to earth! What a mess what a mess!" Followed a battery of merciless questions punctuated by the diabolic clank of metal. Themar had been deputed solely to report to Baron Tregar "And murder me!" supplemented Carl curtly.
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