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Updated: June 26, 2025
Yetive's uncle and aunt, the Count and Countess Halfont, were eagerly expecting her return, and the city was preparing to manifest its joy in the most exuberant fashion. As they drew up to the gates the shouts of the people came to the ears of the travelers. Then the boom of cannon and the blare of bands broke upon the air, thrilling Beverly to the heart.
He told her of the days when Lorry, a fugitive with a price upon his head, charged with the assassination of Prince Lorenz, then betrothed to the princess, lay hidden in the monastery while Yetive's own soldiers hunted high and low for him.
Yetive's eyes answered his enthusiasm. Both had a warm and grateful memory of the loyal service which the young American had rendered his friend when they had first come to Graustark in quest of the princess; and both had a great regard for his wife, the Countess Dagmar, who, as Yetive's lady in waiting, had been through all the perils of those exciting days with them.
Your highness," and she turned to Yetive with a captivating smile, "is the luckless sister of Dantan welcome in your castle? May I rest here in peace? It has been a bitterly long year, this past week," she sighed. Fatigue shot back into her sweet face, and Yetive's love went out to her unreservedly.
Yetive's eyes were blazing with wrath, beneath which gleamed a hope that he could be frightened into silence. "Willingly willingly!" cried Quinnox. "Now, your Highness? 'Twere better in the hall!" "For God's sake, do not murder me! Let me go!" cringed the Prince. "I do not mean that you should kill him now, Quinnox, but I instruct you to do so if he puts foot inside these walls again.
"Yet Graustark reveres his mighty prowess on the field of battle," said he, half laconically. "Oh," she murmured, remembering that she was now the daughter of Yetive's father. "I see. You are not a a a mere murderer, then?" "No. I have been a soldier that is all." "Thank heaven!" she murmured, and was no longer afraid of him.
"It was extremely theatrical," agreed Beverly, seating herself on the arm of Yetive's chair and throwing a warm arm around her neck. "Have you all heard about it?" she demanded, naively, turning to the others, who unquestionably had had a jumbled account of the performance. "You got just what you deserved," said Lorry, who was immensely amused.
While the young princess was being cared for by Yetive's own maids in one of the daintiest bedchambers of the castle, Beverly was engaged in writing a brief but pointed letter to her Aunt Josephine, who was still in St. Petersburg. She had persistently refused to visit Edelweiss, but had written many imperative letters commanding her niece to return to the Russian capital.
I hate all but you and Count Halfont and Baron Dangloss," which left but one condemned. "And Baldos?" added Yetive, patting her hand. "I wish you'd be sensible," cried Beverly, most ungraciously, and Yetive's soft laugh irritated her. "How long had you been listening to us?" "Not so much as the tiniest part of a minute," said Yetive, recalling another disastrous eavesdropping.
A tall figure stealthily opened the door to Yetive's chapel and stepped inside. There was a streak of moonlight through the clear window at the far end of the room. Baldos, his heart beating rapidly, stood still for a moment, awaiting the next move in the game. The ghost-like figure of a woman suddenly stood before him in the path of the moonbeam, a hooded figure in dark robes.
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