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Updated: May 17, 2025
She was a favourite at the Castle, notwithstanding the unhealthy record of her ancient and discredited husband, the Iron Count. Tullis had not seen the Count, but he had heard such tales of him that he could not but pity this glorious young creature who called him husband. There is an old saying about the kinship of pity. Not that John Tullis was actually in love with the charming Countess.
The looks that went round at the conclusion of his disjointed and oft-interrupted story, expressed something more than consternation. "There is nothing supernatural about King's disappearance," said Tullis sharply. "That's all nonsense.
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.
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.
The servant had disappeared through a door at the end of the hall. "Then there were the great sums of money that my husband sent off from time to time, and the strange boxes that came overland to the castle and later went away again as secretly as they came. Mr. Tullis, I am confident in my mind that those boxes contained firearms and ammunition. I have thought it all out.
At best there were but few horses in the valley; mostly oxen. They climbed up to the seat and the tortuous journey began. The farmer trotted beside the wheel nearly all of the way, descanting warmly in painful English on the present condition of things in the hills. "The rascals have made way with the beautiful Miss Tullis. She is the American lady stopping at the Castle. You should see her, sir.
As she finished this dreary prediction he silently arose to his feet and, without a word to any one, stalked off in the darkness. Tullis looked after him and shook his head sadly. "I'll be happy on that fellow's account when daybreak comes and we are really at it," he said to Prince Dantan, who knew something of King's affliction. But Truxton King was not there at daybreak.
The relief that swept into the souls of the newly arrived company was short-lived. They had gone into camp, tired, sore and hungry, and were preparing to take a long needed rest before taking up the last stage of their march toward the city. John Tullis was now in feverish haste to reach the city, where at least he might find a communication from the miscreants, demanding ransom.
He was there to watch over the doughty little chap, who one day would be ruler unrestrained, but who now was a boy to be loved and coddled and reprimanded in the general process of man-making. To say that the tiny Prince loved his big, adoring mentor would be putting it too gently: he idolised him. Tullis was father, mother and big brother to the little fellow in knickers.
"The Prince is a sturdy little beggar," he began, but she lifted her hand in protest. "And he has sturdy, loyal friends. That is agreed. And yet " she paused, a perplexed line coming between her expressive eyes. John Tullis opened his own eyes very wide. "You don't mean to say that he is he is in peril of any sort?" She looked at him a long time before speaking.
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