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Updated: June 5, 2025
Lorry's presence here save the Prince, and if he dares to accuse you before Bolaroz our people will tear him to pieces. No one will believe him." "You you can save him, then?" she gasped, joyously. "If he will permit me to do so. Write to him what you will, your Highness, and he shall have the message. Be brave and all will go well. Write quickly! This is supposed to be the pardon."
The lookout man would not occupy his lonely cabin on Mount Baldy for several weeks to come, and Lorry's work kept him within a moderate radius of the home camp. Several times Dorothy and her father rode with Lorry, spending the day searching for new vistas while he mended trail or repaired the telephone line that ran from Mount Baldy to the main office.
The dread of this very moment was the thing which had drawn him into the castle grounds at early dawn. He had watched for his chance to glide in unobserved, and had snatched a few hours' sleep in the shelter of the shrubbery near the park wall. "It is not true," he said clearly, in answer to Lorry's question. Both Beverly and Marlanx started as the sharp falsehood fell from his lips.
"She's ready to give them everything she has. She's not just grateful, she's bowed down with it. Why she advertised in all the papers for that doctor who saw me on the floor, and now she's found him she'd build him a whole hospital if he'd let her. Lorry's not like me. She's got deep feelings."
"You may as well be comfortable," said Lorry's companion, as he sat rigid and restless. "We have a long and rough ride before us." Off went the carriage with a dash, the rumbles of its wheels joining in the grewsome roar of the elements. For some time the two sat speechless, side by side.
Lorry's own ideas of geography were jumbled and vague as if he had got them by studying the labels on his hat-box. He knew the places he had been to, and he recognized a new country by the annoyances of the customs house, but beyond this his ignorance was complete. The coin, so far as he knew, might have come from any one of a hundred small principalities scattered about the continent.
Anguish's fingers gripped Lorry's leg, but there was no sound from either of the thoroughly aroused dreamers. "A plot, as I live," thought each, with a thrill. "We must be careful to speak only in English. There are not twenty people in Edelweiss who understand it, but the night has ears. It is the only safe tongue. Geddos speaks it well. He should be here."
While they sat in the waiting room they saw, through the glass doors, dozens of richly attired men and women in the hall beyond. They were conversing animatedly, Graustark men and women with dejected faces, Axphainians with exultation glowing in every glance. Lorry's heart sank within him. It seemed hours before the servant returned to bid them follow him.
At his name the sound ceased, there was a rising of graceful feminine forms which floated toward him, leaving a masculine figure in silhouette against the lighted background of the dining room. He was confused as he made his greetings, touched and dropped Lorry's hand, tried to find an answer for Chrystie's challenging welcome.
Too many faces were smitten by a blank consternation, too many people already vainly sought, for Lorry's expression to challenge attention. "Yes, he went lemme see, I don't seem to remember anything I guess it was nearly a week ago. His mother was took sick. He's lucky to be out of this." Her glance shifted to the boy who was looking ruefully at the pile of furniture.
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