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Updated: June 23, 2025
About her head the light touched her hair into a soft nimbus. Karyl stepped impetuously forward and held out his hand to lead her into the garden. Benton, who had involuntarily started toward the balcony at the first sight of her, caught his lip in his teeth and halted where he stood. The girl remained for a moment, astonished at the sight of the two men, incredulous of what she had heard.
Freed from the bandage, and drinking in again reviving breaths, Karyl awoke to the sense of his surroundings. His eyes at once swept the place for Cara, but he saw only the closed door of the room where she was detained. Martin looked down and as their eyes met he casually nodded. "Sorry to inconvenience you," he commented affably, "but this is politics, you know.
He was at one end where a shadow cloaked him, but he lighted a cigarette and the match that flared up threw an orange-red light on his face, showing eyes which were lusterless. For a few moments he held the match in his hollowed palms, coaxing its blaze in the breeze. Before it had burned out there came a sharp report and Karyl heard the spat of flattening lead on the masonry at his back.
"I went into it," he said, "because I feared the danger might threaten Cara. Once in, only a murderer could have turned back." "So I thought." Karyl nodded his head, then he turned and paced restively up and down the path between the fountain and the balcony. At last he halted fronting the American.
Evidently he found it highly pleasing for he smiled as the Dreamer winced and came violently to his feet, pale and rigid, but as yet too astounded for speech. "I did not tell you, did I," went on the Spaniard, "that I have been Sir Manuel Blanco only a few days, and that the title was conferred on me by your royal kinsman, Karyl of Galavia, for a trifling service in confounding his enemies?
For God's sake, Karyl, don't desert me under fire!" He paused with a gesture eloquent of appeal. When next he spoke his voice was slow, deliberate. "And the other picture! The café tables of Paris are crowded with Royalty that has been; with the miserable children of conquered and abdicated Kings!"
Yet on that occasion heliographs reported his movements; the King's escort was doubled and the King went little abroad." "Who stands at Louis' back? Revolutionists?" "Dios! No, Señor. The Galavians are cattle. Karyl or Louis, it is one to them. Galavia is a key. The key cares not at what porter's belt it jingles. Europe cares who opens and closes the lock. Comprende?
He can see visions of power only in the colors of his absinthe glass. She uses men to her ends. Lapas is the latest unless " Blanco paused "unless he is playing two parts, and really serves Karyl. Come, Señor, there is nothing further to interest us here."
Then Benton spoke. "In God's name, Manuel, what do I care who occupies the throne of Galavia? No other man could so block my path as Karyl." Then as one in the confessional he declared shamefacedly: "I have never said it to any man because it is too much like murder, but sometimes I wish I had reached Cadiz one day later than I did."
The soldier must have been only a step behind his messenger, for hardly had his admittance been ordered when he appeared. The officer looked from the King to the Princess, and his eyes telegraphed a request for a moment of private audience. "You may as well speak here," said Karyl dryly. "Her Highness knows what you are about to say."
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