Marlanx,” said Baldos, looking steadily into the eyes of the head of the army. “It was kind and considerate of you to admit me to the fortress—no matter in what capacity, especially at a critical time like this. You did not know me, you had no way of telling whether my intentions were honest or otherwise, and yet I was permitted to go through the fort from end to end. No spy could wish for greater generosity than that.”
An almost imperceptible smile went round the table, and every listener but one breathed more freely. The candor and boldness of the guard won the respect and confidence of all except Marlanx. The Iron Count was white with anger. He took the examination out of Lorry’s hands, and plied the stranger with insulting questions, each calm answer making him more furious than before. At last, in sheer impotence, he relapsed into silence, waving his hand to Lorry to indicate that he might resume.
“You will understand, Baldos, that we have some cause for apprehension,” said Lorry, immensely gratified by the outcome of the tilt. “You are a stranger; and, whether you admit it or not, there is reason to believe that you are not what you represent yourself to be.”
“I am a humble guard at present, sir, and a loyal one. My life is yours should I prove otherwise.”
Yetive whispered something in Lorry’s ear at this juncture. She was visibly pleased and excited. He looked doubtful for an instant, and then apparently followed her suggestion, regardless of consequences.
“Would you be willing to utilize your knowledge as an engineer by suggesting means to strengthen the fortress?” The others stared in fresh amazement. Marlanx went as white as death.
“Never!” he blurted out hoarsely.
“I will do anything the princess commands me to do,” said Baldos easily.
“You mean that you serve her only?”
“I serve her first, sir. If she were here she could command me to die, and there would be an end to Baldos,” and he smiled as he said it. The real princess looked at him with a new, eager expression, as if something had just become clear to her. There was a chorus of coughs and a round of sly looks.
“She could hardly ask you to die,” said Yetive, addressing him for the first time.
“A princess is like April weather, madam,” said Baldos, with rare humor, and the laugh was general, Yetive resolved to talk privately with this excellent wit before the hour was over. She was confident that he knew her to be the princess.
“I would like to ask the fellow another question,” said Marlanx, fingering his sword-hilt nervously. “You say you serve the princess. Do you mean by that that you imagine your duties as a soldier to comprise dancing polite attendance within the security of these walls?”
“I believe I enlisted as a member of the castle guard, sir. The duty of the guard is to protect the person of the ruler of Graustark, and to do that to the death.”
“It is my belief that you are a spy. You can show evidence of good faith by enlisting to fight against Dawsbergen and by shooting to kill,” said the count, with a sinister gleam in his eye.
“And if I decline to serve in any other capacity than the one I now—”
“Then I shall brand you as a spy and a coward.”
“You have already called me a spy, your excellency. It will not make it true, let me add, if you call me a coward. I refuse to take up arms against either Dawsbergen or Axphain.”
The remark created a profound sensation.
“Then you are employed by both instead of one!” shouted the Iron Count gleefully.
“I am employed as a guard for her royal highness,” said Baldos, with a square glance at Yetive, “and not as a fighter in the ranks. I will fight till death for her, but not for Graustark.”
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