THE RED FOX'S SON (continued 3)

Like the mariners who steer their boat upon the hidden rocks, charmed into carelessness of their danger by a siren voice, I was irresistibly drawn again toward the secret door. It was so tantalizingly near; the singer surely was Solonika. An invisible power unloosed my grip upon the chair, I threw diffidence to the winds, crossed the room with swift strides, pulled the curtain aside, opened the inviting panel and stepped through.

But once inside I regretted my rashness and would have given all I possessed to be back in the Prince's chair. The unexpected sight that met my astonished eyes brought me to an abrupt standstill. One swift glance around the room was sufficient to tell me that I had come into Solonika's little boudoir, where the day before I found her engaged in fancy needlework. There were the familiar gobelin tapestries, the pendent chandeliers, the red satin hand-painted chairs. Beside the window was the same easy chair in which she sat while entertaining me, and in front of it on the window sill was the very piece of embroidery upon which she had been working. I recognized it by the centre piece, held tightly as the head of a drum with the little wooden ring beneath.

On the couch against the wall in front of the portières lay Solonika's large French hat and red parasol; beside them was the long tailor-made coat she wore in the summer-house. In the centre of the floor was the skirt crumpled in a circular heap just as she had stepped out of it.

In front of the dressing table, close to the window, with her back toward me stood Solonika herself!

Or was it the Prince?

For a moment I was puzzled as to the identity of the figure before the mirror. There were the same black silk stockings and black satin knee breeches which I recognized as belonging to the Prince. Tucked into the trousers was the white shirt with cuffs attached which Solonika wore under her tailor-made coat. Her white collar and smoke-coloured four-in-hand necktie completed the nondescript costume.

Although she had only to slip on her black coat and buckle shoes and fasten her sword to her side to be dressed as the Prince, I knew that the person before me was not the Prince but Solonika. For the long red hair, gathered in the familiar psyche knot at the back, was still upon her head, making her look absurdly, but daintily, feminine, like a pretty woman upon the stage who is acting a boy's part without sacrificing her hair. But the Princess I suppose had long since cut off her beautiful locks, and had her luxuriant schoolgirl tresses made into a wig. The short hair of the Prince was all she had left.

So this was the secret of Dhalmatia? The General had been right after all. Only one child had been born to the Red Fox, and the old nurse had forfeited her life for telling the truth. This was why the Duke had attempted to exclude Nick and myself from the castle; this was why he appeared so anxious when I tried to examine his son upon the couch in the hallway after the accident, and why he strove to remind her of her sex by his prolonged cry of "My son! my son!" so that, recovering consciousness, she might not betray herself. This was why the Duke hated the General, knowing him to be suspicious.

A great pity welled up in my heart for this slip of a girl with the big, brown, loving eyes, who had been compelled to live such a life of deception through the long years of the past; a life in which every act must be studied and every moment filled with fear; a life in which the womanhood, in which I knew she gloried, must be put aside for the mock manhood of the boy.

But I would not do anything to render her burden heavier. My only hope was to retreat as silently as possible, so that she might not know she was discovered. And I would keep my own counsel. But even as my mind reverted to the secret panel, I saw Solonika bend forward and gaze deeply into the mirror. Her face became reflected upon the glass and her eyes were wide open with horror. I saw that my presence in her room was known.

What must have been her feelings when she saw me? Naturally her first thought must have been that I was a spy sent by General Palmora to do the work which I had done. Her own doors were locked, as I soon found out, and she knew that I had come stealthily in through the panel door. If I should escape by the same means and carry the news of my discovery to my friends, Bharbazonia would be ringing with her shame in the morning. Was this to be the end of her years of work? Perhaps she thought of her father's sorrow at missing the great ambition of his life on the eve of its fulfilment. God knows what terrible pictures rushed before her mind in those few swift seconds. One thing only must have been clear to her. The intruder must not leave the palace. But how was she to stop me? If she came forward I had but to step backward one step to be in the other room, and then my way lay unobstructed to the castle door. Once on the lawn I would be able to escape before her father's servants could run me down.

She was quick-witted as she was clever, and she had much at stake. She withdrew her face from the mirror and steadied herself against the dressing-table while she rapidly thought out a plan to get between me and the secret door. She could not see me now, but I knew she was listening to the slightest sound which would indicate that I was retreating.

"Therese," she called to her maid, who no doubt was in one of the rooms beyond; the control she had over her voice was wonderful. But the maid did not reply. Solonika waited, and spoke aloud as if to herself, but it was for my benefit.

"Where is the girl? Why doesn't she come and dress me? I suppose I shall have to pick up my own skirt."

With her eyes turned toward the skirt, lying between us, she came toward me as if to pick it up; but, as she reached for it, she suddenly straightened up and sprang between me and the panel. There she stood defiantly at bay, guarding the passage like a magnificent young lioness defending her cubs. Her eyes gleamed with hatred as she faced me, and I saw that she held in her hand the long-bladed hunting knife which served as a letter opener upon her dressing-table.

I watched her fascinated, temporarily unable to lift hand or foot in my own defence. Her face was working with a passion so terrible that she no longer looked herself, but like some deeply moved insane person wrought up to such a pitch of excitement that murder becomes easy. Her lips were tightly compressed and her eyes blazed with an intensity of feeling.

With a half articulate cry of a wild beast she flung herself suddenly upon me, grasping her knife in both hands and raising it high above her head to give more power to her blow, aimed at my heart.

Had I not been warned by the expression upon her face when she saw me in the mirror, and been thus partially prepared for her swift attack, I might have died there at her feet.

CHAPTER XI

THE HIDDEN PASSAGE

A crown! what is it?

It is to bear the miseries of the people!

To hear their murmurs, feel their discontents,

And sink beneath a load of splendid care!

To have your best success ascribed to fortune,

And fortune's failures all ascribed to you!

It is to sit upon a joyless height,

To every blast of changing fate exposed!

Too high for hope! Too great for happiness!

—Hannah More: Daniel.

When Solonika hurled herself upon my breast she found me ready for her. I was not overborne by the shock of the encounter, and my eye never lost track of the knife in its descent. Instinctively I protected my heart with my elbows and caught her wrists with both hands in a grip of iron.

She struggled like the mad woman she temporarily was, but her recently dislocated arm robbed her of much of her power and she finally, under the pressure of my fingers, released her hold upon her weapon. The knife fell to the carpet between us. I crushed her against my chest as tightly as I could without hurting her, just as a boxer will run into clinches with his nimble antagonist to keep from getting hurt. The pain in her arm, and the knowledge that she was powerless against my strength in a physical encounter, and weaponless, brought on a quick reaction. Her body relaxed in my arms and she broke into a torrent of tears, more hard to bear than her desperate anger.

"Solonika," I whispered, "will you listen to me?"

"No, no, no," she sobbed; "let me go! Let me go."

"If I let you go will you promise not to attempt my life again?"

Sobs were my only answer.

"Solonika," I said, "there is no need for all this show of feeling. I am not here to harm you or yours. Your secret is safe with me."

Her weeping continued, but I knew that she was listening.

"If I meant to escape, it is in my power to do so. I need but thrust you aside and leap through the panel. You could not stop me before I reached my friends. To prove to you that I mean you no ill, I will release you and permit you to do as you will with me."

I set her upon her feet as I spoke, but I was careful to pick up the knife and put it in my pocket. Dazed, she stood looking at me through her tears.

"You know; oh, my God, you know!" she cried.

There was the same look in her eyes which I noticed when she first detected my presence. But, seeing that I made no move, her old courage returned. She ran to the wall and pressed an electric button that rang a bell somewhere in the castle out of hearing. Then she possessed herself of a silver-mounted revolver which she took from her wardrobe.

Although I knew that, never as long as I lived and she reigned upon her throne, could she feel that her secret was safe; that at the least I might be imprisoned for life in the family dungeon, and at the most condemned to death by her angry father, I made no move to stop her. I pinned my faith to the hope that I would be able to convince her, and if necessary, her father, that I would not betray them even to my friends.

"Stand in the centre of the room," she ordered, and I promptly obeyed. She took up her position against the panel and we faced each other, waiting. My ready compliance with her curt commands aroused her suspicions instead of allaying them as I wished. She thought I must have good reason not to fear her.

"Your friend Nicholas no doubt is waiting you in the Prince's room?" she flung out. "He too has seen, and you wish to give him time to escape."

My object was not to escape, else I might have lied to her.

"No," I said, "I came alone."

She smiled pityingly upon me, but there was no mistaking the look of relief which passed over her face. The secret was still within the keeping of the battlements and there it would stay.

"You fool; oh, you fool," she said. Her contempt was unbearable.

"Aye, fool indeed," I rejoined bitterly, "ever to hope that you would see and understand. It is true that my presence here indicates that I have been spying upon your movements. It is true that I suspected you. But have my subsequent actions been those of a spy? When you were powerless in my arms a moment ago, did I try to escape? Don't you see that the show of supremacy you now have over me, I have willingly given you? Does not your better judgment tell you that I am speaking the truth?"

"I wish I could believe you," she said; "it would make things easier."

"Do believe me, Solonika," I pleaded. "Palmora did not send me here. I came alone to see you in the summer-house as I promised, and, not finding you there, I followed you to the castle. In the Prince's room I heard you singing and came here without knowing what I was to see."

"I cannot understand you, Dr. Wharton," she said, and I could see that my words were taking effect; "it is not fear of the consequences that makes you say this."

"What consequences?" I asked, wishing to learn what she intended doing with me.

"Of course you know that you can never leave this castle again," she said.

I nodded.

"I do not know what method my father will take to insure your silence. The future is in his hands."

"It is likely then that my fate may be similar to that of the old nurse whose neck was broken," I said. She was startled.

"You know that, too?" she said.

"Yes, I know."

"How do you a stranger in Bharbazonia know this?"

"General Palmora has always suspected something. He told me."

"When father learns of this I fear for your life, sir."

I bowed; there was nothing to say.

"Perhaps you will explain, Dr. Wharton, why you are willing to withhold from your friends that which they would give much to know," she asked.

"Why should I wish to tell?" I asked her in return. "I have no interest in Bharbazonian politics. Neither have I any friends in this country who would be benefited by my information. But I tell you frankly that, if there were any way by which I could prevent you from continuing this dreadful masquerade, I would gladly make use of it."

My answer staggered her. But I wished her to understand me thoroughly.

"Why?" she gasped.

"Because I pity you."

It was a tense moment for me. If I had read this girl aright she was a womanly woman and her heart had often rebelled against her lot. If I was to convince her of my sincerity, I must show her that I understood; that I knew how much she detested playing the part of a man; that I sympathized with her. Knowing that I felt this interest in her, she must appreciate that I would be the last man in the world to make the performance harder for her to bear.

She looked at me in wonder, while her assurance in herself vanished. Her knees became weak and she suddenly sat down. But it seemed as if fate were against me. Just when I needed her undivided attention most, there came a knock upon the door that startled us both. Solonika recovered her composure instantly, remembering the business in hand.

"Who's there?" she called, watching me for any move to escape. But I made no sign.

"Your Highness rang,"—it was the voice of Therese, the maid.

"Tell my father to come here instantly," ordered the Princess. She was determined to carry out her original plan of submitting everything to her father. Therese ran upon her errand, for there was that in Solonika's voice which lent the maid the wings of fear. The Duke would soon be here; there was not much time left me.

"Your friends will miss you," smiled the Princess.

"Yes," I returned, although I knew that I was wasting time on the wrong track, "and they know that I came here. They will search for me in the right place."

"But with little success," she replied; "Dhalmatia knows how to keep its secrets."

"Nicholas will not rest until he has found me," I said.

"But David will never find his Jonathan. They left you in the roadway. No one saw you enter the castle and no one will see you leave. You mayhap were captured by highwaymen. Bharbazonia is full of them."

"You forget Dajerak. He let me in."

"He is incorruptible. He will say he never saw you."

"But my friends will not rest until they have found me."

"We will invite them to search the castle if they become insistent, but they will not find you."

"This is idle talk," I said, "beside the purpose. I knew when I placed myself in your power that I ran this risk. If it be necessary to pay such a price, I will pay it. But one of these days I will convince you that I mean it when I say that your secret is safe with me."

"You said a while back you pitied me," she suggested, and my heart jumped that she had not forgotten. "Perhaps you will tell me why."

The Duke would be here any moment. I had come to my last stand.

"You have asked for an explanation. I will give it to you," I said. "I pity you because you do not enter into this masquerade of your own free will, nor because you like it, but rather because you love your father and desire to further his ambition. So far, am I not right?"

"I love my father," she replied, soberly, "he is all I have in the world."

"And to that affection you have sacrificed everything in life that makes life worth the living. Where are the girl friends who should be yours? You dare not bring them here for fear of discovery. The young nobles of this country cannot come to see you. Here you live in loneliness, you who were made for better things. You had a taste of happiness when you were away at the English schools, and you know what you are sacrificing. And for what? To gratify an old man's whim."

"No, no," she cried, as if she would not hear.

"Have you stopped to look at the future? To me that will be worse than the past. The time will come when you may no longer be a woman but must ever be a man. Once you have taken up the sceptre the door is shut behind you. You can never marry; you can never have a lover and a husband; you can never have children. All this to gratify an evil ambition."

A look of deep agony drove the light of battle from the poor girl's eyes. She followed each word until her pent-up feelings could no longer be restrained.

"Stop, stop! for God's sake!" she cried, beating upon her breast with her clenched fists. "Don't, don't talk so. I cannot bear it. Haven't I known all this? Oh, haven't I seen it often in the night? Sleep flees from me and these thoughts come and will not let me rest. The years that are past have been unhappy enough, but the years to come will be worse. To be always watchful lest I betray myself! to go on acting—acting—ever acting, never able to be just myself—"

"Never to love as other women love," I said, gently.

"Oh, you don't know," she cried, vehemently, "you don't know all the agony I have suffered. I have seen peasant women in the streets of Nischon suckling their dirty babes; I have seen the love in their eyes for the stalwart men at their sides, and I have hated them. Hated them, do you hear? I could have killed them for daring to be happy while I am so miserable—I, a princess of Bharbazonia. They point me out to their little ones and hold them up to see the great lady riding by—they envy me—me!—me! Oh, God, how little they know that I would give everything to change places with the humblest of them."

Sob upon sob seemed wrung from her soul by the grief that was deeper than I ever suspected. She was totally unconscious of my presence when I placed my hand upon her head in a gentle caress. She rested against me with a sigh.

"I have thought about it so much of late. I think my heart is breaking. I try to tell father, but he cannot understand. But you can, you do understand."

"Yes," I said, "I do understand. And I know that the worst is still before you."

"Oh, no, nothing can be worse," she cried, as if she would ward off a blow.

"Your father is old. He must some day leave you."

"Alone! I shall be alone?" she cried. "I cannot go on alone. I cannot do it, I tell you! When he is gone I shall die also. I shall be old then, and I shall welcome death when he tardily comes."

It was awful to hear a young woman with all of life before her talking like this. I permitted her to weep until her tears ceased to flow of their own accord. When she became quieter she looked up in my face, and wonder was written on her countenance.

"You understand!" was all she said, but there was something like awe in her voice.

"It was because I understood that I would do all in my power to prevent you sacrificing yourself. It was because I understood that I would not escape, when I could, to give you additional cause for worry. It was because I understood that I will keep your secret forever. Now, do you understand at last?"

"But, how do you know all these things? You have read my very soul and made me say that which I never dreamed I should say to any one."

"It is because—I am your friend," I said.

In a voice full of excitement the Red Fox, pounding upon the outer door, demanded admittance. Like the knocking on the door in the play of Macbeth, the interruption brought us back to a realization of the things of the world without. We sprang to our feet and faced each other.

"Do you believe me, Solonika?" I whispered.

Noiselessly she pushed the curtains aside at the head of the couch upon which her large French hat and red parasol were lying. Behind the curtains a door stood open, revealing a pair of stone steps leading down into the darkness.

"Go, go!" she whispered in turn. I knew how much she was risking in thus giving me my freedom.

"Good-bye, Solonika," I said, pausing upon the top step.

She held out her hand and I pressed it reverently against my lips.

"Good-bye, my—friend," she said.

The curtain fell, shutting off the light, but I did not go down the steps. I waited behind the curtain and heard her open the door to the Red Fox.

"What is the matter?" he cried, rushing into the room. "Therese said something had happened to you."

"Nothing is wrong, father," said she. "I needed you because—I am afraid to be left alone."

"Now, daughter, control yourself. You will be in a nervous condition during the coronation if you permit yourself to go to pieces thus. Son of my soul, you will soon reign as King in Bharbazonia, then you will forget these womanly weaknesses!"

"Yes, I shall be King and forget my womanhood," she replied, listlessly.

I had heard enough and crept away. The stone steps were very dark and, for fear of making a noise, I removed my shoes. The Duke must not know. Presently, by feeling my way along the wall at the side, I came noiselessly to the end of the steps and found that I was in a narrow underground passage. Judging from the interminable number of steps, I was deep under the castle foundations. The tunnel led away from the castle, if I was any judge of direction.

I followed it slowly, still feeling my way along the wall and watching for pitfalls under my feet. Subterranean passages I knew were always full of dangers. I might even now be in the dungeon with which Solonika threatened me, where my friend would never be able to find me. Not that I doubted her, but she might have sent me here to protect me from her father, and her father from me.

The passage kept continually dipping downward as if it were going far under the earth, but it also led me further and further from the castle. Of that I was sure. Its sides were beginning to drip with water, and I put on my shoes after stepping into a puddle. My progress was slow and, although I listened, I heard no sound from the castle. At last my outstretched hand came in contact with a wooden door. Softly I felt for the knob and cautiously turned it. What was I to find at the end of the passage? Was sudden death lurking there? The door was unlocked and yielded to the pressure of my hand. I opened it slowly outward and was greeted with a flood of light.

A tall Japanese screen was the first object that met my view. Beside it was a picture of Solonika standing on the tips of her dainty toes in the midst of a Bharbazonian dance. Close to it was another picture of Solonika in the costume of the Prince. There was her easy chair close to the flowers by the windows—I was standing in the summer-house—free!

Solonika was trusting me!

CHAPTER XII

THE RENUNCIATION

Oh, ever thus from childhood's hour,

I've seen my fondest hopes decay;

I never loved a tree or flower,

But 'twas the first to fade away!

—Moore: Lalla Rookh.

When I returned to Castle Framkor that evening and joined Nicholas and the General my difficulties began. No longer was I the care-free youth who had come to Bharbazonia in search of recreation. I shared another's secret now and it weighed heavily upon me. How it was to bear me down, and make my life unhappy while I remained in this cursed country, I was soon to learn.

The General was delivering a lecture to Nick on the heedless folly of youth, referring to his "unseemly conduct" in the gardens of the palace of the King. Nick refused to take him seriously and the old man, who felt that the subject was full of grave possibilities, was very angry.

"What is Teskla to you," he said, "that you should kiss her before all the world? I could forgive you, my son, if you expressed any affection for the girl who truly loves you. But you are simply playing with her."

"What makes you think the Princess cares for me?" asked Nick.

"Good heavens, man! can't you see it? Does a woman lie for a man unless she loves him? Yes, sir, lie is the word. Don't you contradict me, sir; I will not stand it."

"Well, what if she did tell a little fib?" returned Nick. "She saved herself from her father's wrath. There is no occasion for so much heat, Godfather. Can't a fellow kiss a pretty girl in Bharbazonia without all this fuss?"

"But, the consequences! Have you figured them out?" said the General. "The King believes that he saw Prince Raoul embrace the Princess in public, before witnesses. And he was pleased. Hark you, pleased!"

"He certainly was. A blind man could have noticed it."

"A cloud no bigger than a man's hand; but the storm will break. You know the King's dearest wish is to see his daughter married to Prince Raoul. He is up to something. That scene in the garden meant more to him than appears on the surface. He has figured out some way to effect his purpose and, when the dénouement comes, and the Prince denies he was in the garden, where will you be, facing the royal wrath?"

"I hope it will not come to that," said Nick, gravely. He knew the General well enough to feel that the old man did not jump at conclusions, and that he was almost always right in his judgment. My entrance at that moment was grateful to Nick for it broke up the lecture.

"I am glad to see you back, Dale," said Nick, putting his arm around my neck in the old affectionate manner. Then came the shock of the feeling that something had happened to me. I resented Nick's friendliness!

"How about the boar hunt?" he continued, not appearing to notice how I avoided his arm and drew away from him. "When do we start?"

His question brought back the memory of my original purpose in visiting the castle. Was it only two hours ago that I had left them in the automobile to walk to the summer-house? So much to change my life had happened in such a short time that I could scarcely believe it possible. It seemed as if a month had elapsed. I had forgotten all about the boar hunt.

"I do not know," I replied, truthfully enough. "I saw the Princess but did not see the Prince."

The boar hunt did not materialize for many days and in the interim all three of us found plenty to occupy our attention. The General and Nick frequently left me alone now, when they went to meetings at the Turk's Head Inn and to Nischon. Although they often invited me to accompany them I always refused. Most of my time was spent in the summer-house with Solonika.

How I worried when she did not appear for the next two days! I haunted the vicinity of the little den and even went as far as the clearing in the hope that she would again see me and send me word by her maid. I dared not go to the castle until I knew how it stood with the Red Fox. If she had reconsidered her action and told him, he might not view my escape in the same light as she did, and in that case I was safer out of his hands. But, on the third day, I found her sitting in her easy chair looking pale and ill. She seemed more than pleased to see me.

"I shall have to ask you to prescribe for me, Dr. Wharton," she smiled. "I never went to pieces like this before. I have been in bed for two days and I cry a great deal. What is wrong with me?"

"I cannot prescribe for Your Highness," I replied, "because you will not take my medicine."

"You haven't given me any yet."

"Then here is my prescription. It will make you whole again; of that I am positive. Go this very hour to your father and tell him that you cannot continue this deception. Tell him that it is killing you and ask him, for the sake of the love he bears you, to permit you to go away out of this country at least for a year."

"You are a good physician,"—she laughed a little and shook her head; "but I cannot take your medicine. If, after all these years, I refused to go on, what would my father do? How the nobles would ridicule him! He would die of grief and shame. No, no, there is no escape; I must go on—forever!"

The light and the bright sunshine soon brought her spirits back, and she became the old happy Solonika. That morning she was like an April day, alternating between showers and sunshine with astonishing rapidity.

"Do not imagine, sir," she said, "that there is nothing but woe in the situation. Let us talk of something more pleasant. Do you recall the time when you were permitted to see both the Prince and the Princess in the castle?"

"Yes," I said, "and I have often wondered since how you deceived me so cleverly."

"We all had a good laugh after you were gone. You see there are compensations. Shall I tell you how we did it?"

"If you will."

"It began when you hurt me shaking my hand. I knew that you were studying me and that you were suspicious. Your friend Nicholas did all the talking and you listened and watched. I had nothing to fear from him, but I knew I had from you. That evening I talked it over with father. He was positive that Palmora had poisoned your mind against us and that it was time we prepared an antidote. We waited for your expected visit, but you did not come. I was watching you when you appeared at the top of the hill and turned back, and I understood that your pride would not permit you to knock again at our door. I sent Therese and you fell into the trap."

"'Will you come into my parlour said the Spider to the Fly,'" I said.

"Exactly. Dajerak brought you to the Prince's room where father and I were pretending to play cards. Oh, it was hard not to keep from laughing at you. You looked at the Prince so suspiciously, and how gently you hinted that you would like to see the Princess! Father enjoyed it immensely. It had been a long while since we had done anything of the kind. Not since King Gregory called to see the twins."

Her laughter was not easy to bear.

"Then Dajerak, the slow old Dajerak, took you all around the inner court in order to give me time to dress. I only had to put on this long hair—its my own anyhow—slip a loose dressing gown over my boy's clothes and I was ready for you. My, what a long time you were in coming. I was afraid you would shake hands with me again. That's why I did not lay down my sewing. You did not notice that my blue slippers and my black stockings—I had no time to change them—were not altogether in keeping, did you?"

"I did not notice."

"I was afraid you would."

"The tunnel to the summer-house was also part of the game?" I asked.

"Yes, that was to enable me to entertain visitors there and appear before them afterward in the guise of the Prince in the castle. You must not think that we allayed the suspicions of Bharbazonia without a struggle. It was by means of the underground passage that we won over the Grand Duke of Marbosa. Palmora poisoned his mind, too, and he paid us a visit. He saw me in the summer-house and asked for the Prince, then he rode off to the castle. I had to run with all my might to get there in time. You should have seen his face when he met the Prince. You see there is lots of fun and excitement in the life. I should die of ennui without it."

"I suppose it is full of innocent fun now, Solonika," I said, "but after you are king it will be serious. Did you ever think of the sacrilege your coronation in the Cathedral will entail?"

"I have thought of it," she replied, gravely.

"If you are found out now, people will laugh, after the first blush of excitement is over; but if you are found out then—"

"They will put me to death," she said, simply.

There was something sublime about her courage. Everything that I could suggest as a future possibility she had thought out before me. Nothing was left unconsidered. As I talked with her day after day, always upon the same fascinating subject, my respect for her loyalty to her father increased. So absorbing was her love for him that she was ready, aye, willing to lay down her life to further his ambitions.

She knew full well the meaning of the vengeance of the Church. I could not frighten her with the story of the fate of the Witch of Utrepect. While the fire was still alight around the body of that unfortunate woman, Solonika, as if impelled by a terrible fascination, had ridden over to the village on her black horse and watched the dying embers complete their fiendish work.

She could think; she could feel. And how dreadful must have been her thoughts if she permitted herself to believe that in case of discovery her fate might be similar. If the Church, backed by the peasantry, would punish blasphemy in such mediæval fashion, what would they not do to one who defiled the altar?

As frequently as we talked of these things, we always arrived at the same conclusion; but we always returned to the discussion, when we were alone. When Nick came along, which he did as often as he could, we hid our feelings, and Solonika shone at her best. I could see with some dismay that she enjoyed his society. He was bright, cheerful, smiling, while I was inclined to be gloomy.

"Something is the matter with Dale," said Nick to her one afternoon. "He is preoccupied and moody. Every night he goes to bed early, leaving the General and me to our arguments. What do you suppose is wrong with him?"

"You should know better than I," she replied, banteringly; "perhaps he is pining for the girl he left behind him."

"How about it, Dale?" said Nick.

But on these occasions I found no ready answer. I was not as adept in the art of intrigue as the Princess. I could only leave the summer-house abruptly, with Nick watching my strange action in open-mouthed astonishment. Rebel against it as I would, I could see the breach widen between Nick and me day by day. We had never had a misunderstanding in our lives before.

As if the secret I was hiding were not enough for any man to bear in silence, Solonika insisted upon flirting outrageously with Nick, always in my presence. But I felt that she relied upon me for the true companionship which had always been denied her. Once or twice she unconsciously called me by my first name, and she clung to my arm in a tantalizing way at parting. Why she acted with Nicholas as she did I could not understand. But what man ever did fully fathom the heart of a woman? Never once did she reprove me when I called her Solonika. She seemed to like it. So, one day I ventured to bare my inmost feelings to her. It was at the close of one of our most intimate talks, when I was urging again the necessity of throwing up the whole dangerous business.

"Solonika, why will you not go away from here and leave all your worries behind?" I said.

"Where shall I go?" she returned.

"Anywhere. Only go; surely you have friends in England where you went to school."

"I have no friends anywhere but here."

"Don't say that. You have me. I am your friend."

"Surely you do not urge that I fly with you?"

My feeling got the better of me. I determined to make an attempt to save her, even against herself. There was nothing to bind her to her country except the great love she bore her father. It was worth the try.

"Solonika, we must come to an understanding. You surely have guessed how I feel toward you. I do not want to give offence; neither do I care to appear absurd in your eyes. You are a Princess. You 'sit upon a joyless height, too high for hope; too great for happiness.' I am an American lacking title and position. But what I have is yours to command. If a love that shall live forever can do aught to make your life happier, and lead you away to a humble home full of peace and happiness, it stands ready at your bidding."

She understood as I knew she would. I could feel it in the light hand that rested on my arm; in the sad, gentle look within the depth of her brown eyes. She could not bear to face me and turned away, apparently to watch the setting sun of the dying December day as it sank amid the thousand colours of a glorious finality.

Even as I watched her I knew there was no hope and that she was forever removed from me. Her feet were set in the pathway she was destined to tread before she was born. She must go her way and I mine until the end. She would continue acting the boy before the world. She would be crowned and reign as King in Bharbazonia. In spite of all I could do she would live her unsexed life, guarding her secret carefully until death released her. I was powerless to save her even from herself. The love she had for her father was greater than any affection she might have even for me.

"We will not talk of it any more, my—friend," she said. And thus did she sacrifice me also upon the altar of her devotion.

It was Nick who brought about the boar hunt which was fraught with such important events, and which had not been spoken of since the day I stumbled upon the skeleton in Dhalmatia's closet.

"What has become of the Prince, Your Highness?" he asked Solonika when one day we were taking our leave together.

"He does not look with favour upon you two young men," she replied. "You have not accepted his invitation to hunt with him."

"That was Dale's fault," Nick replied; "he forgot all about it. Tell the Prince we will be glad to hunt with him any time."

"He will be delighted," said she. "I do not believe he has left the house for ten days. After the coronation he will be very much occupied. The air in the woods will do him good."

"Four days more and he will be King. Tell him he had better make the most of his freedom," Nick said.

"Very well," said she, "be ready in the morning and he will come over to Framkor for you."

Thus easily did Solonika plan to appear in the Prince's clothes and forget her womanhood.

CHAPTER XIII

THE RIVALS

He is a fool who thinks by force or skill,

To turn the current of a woman's will.

—Tuke: Five Hours.

The winding of the hunting horn and the barking of dogs upon Castle Framkor's lawns the next morning told me that Solonika had kept her word. We were at breakfast. Looking through the long low windows of the dining room, I saw the Prince, in all the gaiety of a red hunting costume and high-top, varnished boots, dismount among his pack.

What argument Solonika had used with her father to procure his permission to go abroad in the character of the Prince four days before the coronation, I could not imagine. I had told her of the coming and going of the black-cloaked men; the Red Fox knew that some plot was in the wind and shrewdly suspected that it was directed against the Prince. For that reason Solonika had left off going abroad as the Prince for the past ten days. It was easy for her to pass the time with me in the summer-house. Once, while riding out in my company and Nick's, she met the cloaked men. They recognized Solonika and let us pass with scarcely a glance in our direction.

All this, I say, the Red Fox knew; but I suppose he found it impossible to control the girl. He indeed is "a fool who thinks by force or skill to turn the current of a woman's will." When Solonika made up her mind to do a thing she generally did it. But the Duke had recorded his protest in the number of men he sent with her. Twenty-five well-mounted retainers from the Red Fox's retinue surrounded the Prince, holding the dogs in leashes of four, and twenty-five more, I soon learned, had preceded us to the hunting grounds.

Solonika turned her horse over to one of her men and entered the breakfast room. Both Nick and the General stood upon their feet to their Prince as he entered. They urged the Prince to join them at table, but the Prince insisted that he had already partaken of food and could eat nothing. He, however, took the chair which the General courteously drew up for him and accepted a cup of coffee.

I was glad that Solonika did not look in my direction for my agitation would have made it hard for her. It was the first time I was present when she was under the fire of the General's sharp eyes, and I trembled for her. I felt myself grow hot and cold by turns, overcome by the fear that she would betray herself. Although she was attired in the Prince's hunting raiment, how different she looked to me now. It seemed impossible that the astute General could not tell that Solonika and not the Prince sat before him.

But the daring girl had the confidence born of years of success. As I became accustomed to the novelty of the situation, I began to take pleasure in watching her superb acting. She carried it off with so much relish and in such a high-handed manner. Never once did she forget the quaint little burr in her English speech. Knowing how perfectly she could speak it, I marvelled she did not sometimes forget. But I also realized why she elected to make the Prince talk brokenly; it gave the Prince a difference in character which disarmed suspicion and kept the individuality of Solonika and the Prince apart, not only in the minds of her hearers, but also in her own mind; for the difference in dialect acted as a constant reminder that she was no longer a woman but a man.

"I am deeply sensible of the honour which you have bestowed upon Castle Framkor by your presence to-day," said the General, humbly. "Bharbazonia has seen but little of her future king."

"I have been taking my ease against the great day not far distant," replied the Prince. "It will be a long time before I may again enjoy the pleasure of a hunt."

"I wish to apologize, Your Highness, for my seeming discourtesy in not accepting your invitation two weeks ago," said Nick. "The truth of the matter is that I did accept with pleasure, but my messenger failed to mention the matter when he arrived at your castle. He is not usually forgetful, so I imagine he was well entertained."

Nick's remark brought back the remembrance of the day when I left the automobile and discovered the secret of Dhalmatia. The Prince also remembered the occasion but did not betray the slightest emotion.

"You refer to Dr. Wharton as your messenger," said the Prince. "I have not seen him except on the single occasion when he visited my father and me. But I understand that he and my sister Solonika have become great friends."

"Ah, ha," laughed Nick, "and so the cat is out of the bag. He and I are now rivals."

The General permitted his fork to fall heavily upon his plate as he stared at Nick, remembering that young man's flirtation with Princess Teskla, and something akin to a groan escaped him. But Nick only laughed.

"I know nothing of any cat," said the Prince, gravely, with well acted simplicity.

"It is an idiom," explained the General, "which means that you have betrayed your sister's secret."

I straightened up in my chair at the old man's solemn words. Had he purposely touched upon the thing which was making me miserable, or did he do it unconsciously? The Prince's nerve was of iron. He sipped his coffee unmoved, but his eyes never wavered from the General's face as he asked innocently:

"What secret, General Palmora?"

"The secret that Dale, here, is much interested in Solonika."

"Is he?" he asked, sweeping me with his half closed eyes. I was forced to drop mine while I felt the colour rise to my cheeks.

"I do not know," said the General. "Nicholas has just said so."

"A man is beginning to fall in love when he shows signs of forgetfulness," said Nick. "He is most forgetful of late."

"I warn you, Dale," he continued turning to me, "that a woman will come between us yet. If I am not mistaken the Princess Solonika will be that woman."

"The Princess can never be anything to me," I replied.

"She is the brightest woman I have ever met," said Nick to the Prince. "Why don't you travel, Your Highness, and acquire her gift of languages. Your English, for example, is not as good as hers."

"No?" smiled the Prince through his nose, like a Frenchman's "Non." "Wherein is my English not perfect?"

"It is good enough for Bharbazonia, Your Highness," said the General, pushing back his chair. "After you become king you will never speak such a useless language. Your French is all you need at court and you speak that perfectly."

"Thank you, General Palmora," said he. Then, turning again to Nicholas, he added: "Are you serious in saying you admire Solonika? Pray, what do you find to admire in her? To me she seems like an ordinary girl."

Oh, Solonika, deliberately fishing for a compliment, the eternal feminine being ever present! I could scarcely believe my ears; but this was my first day under fire and I lacked her confidence.

"Ordinary girl?" echoed Nick. "She is in the first place extraordinarily handsome. I have travelled all over the world, and seen all kinds of women; some were beautiful and some were clever, but few were both handsome and bright, as she is. I mean to become better acquainted with her when you are king."

"But my sister thinks of going away after I am crowned," he said.

"Going away?" Nick returned. "Very good; the world is small; I can readily find her. I trust that you will speak well of me to her."

"But you haven't told me wherein lies her wonderful charm which seems to have captivated both you and Dale—Wharton, I think you said your friend's name was?"

"How about it, Dale?" cried Nick, "has she bound you to her chariot wheels, too?"

"To me she is the most wonderful woman in the world," I made answer, looking straight into her eyes. Solonika flushed a little and gave me a quick sign of camaraderie that made me very happy.

"A woman has come between David and Jonathan," said Nick.

"The woman has come," I replied, and for the first time I realized as I gazed in his face that Nick was not joking. I, who knew him, could read there plainly the intensity of his feeling, and I suppose he could read my heart as well. The spirit of contest was lit in our eyes. We looked at each other like two young animals meeting face to face in the spring-time. Yet there was a note of regret in Nick's voice when he slowly repeated:

"The woman has come."

"But, wherein is her charm? You have not told me," reiterated the Prince.

"Your Highness has never been in love, it is plain to see," said Nick, "else you would not ask such a question. Her particular charm is that she is she. A man goes through the world meeting many women. Although he may not know it, he carries an ideal within his heart. How his ideal is formed, who can tell? But it is there, nevertheless. Unconsciously, he measures all women by this ideal; one after another falls before it, until as time goes by he loses hope of ever finding her. But one day he meets the woman. He may not recognize her immediately, but after the meeting his thoughts follow her. They meet again and after her departure comes loneliness which is a part of him except when she is near. One cannot put it into words; it lies below, too deep for utterance. Why she is she I cannot tell. I only know the Princess Solonika affects me so."

"I cannot sit here and listen to his fool talk any longer," exclaimed the General, rising from the table in some heat. "If you boys are going to stir up the game it is time you were about it. Princess Teskla would be delighted to hear your definition of love, Nick."

"Life's fires burn low in the aged," smiled Nick, looking at me.

"So?" said the Prince, whom nothing escaped, "why should Teskla be interested?"

"We have reason to believe that the King's daughter is suffering from loneliness, such as young Nicholas describes," said the General grimly.

"Why should she?" said the Prince. "She is surrounded by the court at Nischon. If any one is lonely I should think it would be my sister. She has often complained of living in the country, seeing no one. How can one be lonely in the city? Teskla has all the gentlemen of the world's consulates to help her while away the time; she may travel at will; while my sister must always be by my father's side; she may not travel; she may not see any one."

The Prince either purposely refused, or actually failed, to see the import of the General's words and the General was too loyal to make them clearer. So, drifting from one subject to another, we followed the old man to the castle door where the hunters and their dogs were idling away their time.

While waiting for their young master, the large army of hunters had been amusing themselves at their own discretion. They were dark-eyed, handsome Bharbazonians, the finest horsemen in the world, riding with all the ease and abandon of their Cossack brethren. For the saying in Bharbazonia is, "Scratch a Russian and you will find a Cossack; scratch a Cossack and you will find a Bharbazonian." They were all dressed alike in the favourite green cloth of the country, and all carried clusters of long-handled spears or pikes, by which the wild boar was to be killed as he broke cover and charged the horse and rider.

The Prince, unaided, mounted the black which had thrown him at sight of our automobile. He waited for Nick and me to mount the animals which the groom had saddled while we breakfasted. Our horses were apart from the rest and Nick and I were out of ear-shot of the Prince when we met.

"What chance have you with Solonika?" he said, in a low voice. "She is a Princess and you are only an American."

"None whatever, Nick," I said. "You are right; Princesses of reigning houses do not wed Americans."

"But you have not given up hope?"

"I never had any."

"Dale, old chum," said Nick, "you have beaten me at chess; I have beaten you at billiards. It's a draw with the gloves. But, after every defeat or victory, we have always shaken hands. It was always a fair game. I know you, Dale. You never give up without a struggle. Therefore there will be a battle. We are older now and we strike harder. But, here's my hand on it—that no matter which way this may end it will make no difference between us. As far as I am concerned a woman can never come between David and Jonathan."

"As far as I am concerned she never can either, Nick," I said.

The grip of friendship we exchanged was sincere. Whatever of disappointment the future has in store for me, Nick's place in my heart would always remain as fixed as Polaris. And I know that nothing could alter his feeling for me.

It was plain that his position in his own country was such as would enable him some day to aspire to the hand of a Princess, a privilege denied to me, a plain American. By the accident of birth, then, he had an advantage over me; but in one thing I had the advantage over him.

When we mounted to follow the pack, he rode after the Prince while I rode after the Princess.

CHAPTER XIV

THE ABDUCTION

He thought at heart, like courtly Chesterfield

Who, after a long chase o'er hills, dales, bushes,

And what not, though he rode beyond all price,

Asks next day, "if men ever hunted twice?"

—Byron: Don Juan.

Hunting foxes with a pack of hounds is an English and American pastime; hunting wolves with borzoi dogs is a Russian amusement; hunting the boar, the national entertainment of Bharbazonia. The alacrity with which the men started, when we were at last in the saddle, revealed their impatience at the delay.

"Keep an eye on the Prince, Nick," called the General from the castle door. "Remember Marbosa's oath. Only three days are left."

"All right, Godfather," Nick replied. But he did not offer any explanation to me as to what the Duke proposed to do, and deftly changed the subject. All he would say was that the General was talking politics and that one is wise who does not bother his head about what does not concern him.

Nevertheless, I secretly concluded that it would be just as well for me to keep as near the Prince as possible during the day. Some political plot was coming to a head of which I knew nothing. What this danger was that seemed to threaten I could not imagine, but I connected it with the horsemen who rode in the early hours of the dawn, and who loitered around the summer-house in their long Spanish cloaks.

The Prince, riding at the head of the pack as perfectly erect as a cavalryman, was surrounded by his father's retainers, and close under the eye of the Master of the Hounds, when we joined him. Like the good-natured boy he seemed to be, he was enjoying the ride to the full. His cheeks were flushed with the healthy outdoor exercise and his eyes were bright with excitement. It was an ideal day with just enough of the brisk cut of winter in the air to keep the blood a-moving.

"It is good to be alive," he said, darting a quick look over his shoulder as we came up.

"Where have you planned to hunt, Prince?" asked Nicholas, ranging on one side of the black horse while I took the other.

"In the Forest of Zin."

"On the Framkor side of the river, or on Marbosa's?"

"My camp is pitched beside the Big Spring."

"Then we hunt on Marbosa's estate," said Nick, and I could see that he was not pleased at the prospect.

The Prince seemed highly amused at Nick's reply, and laughed as if he deemed he had made an important discovery.

"For an American, Mr. Fremsted," he smiled, "you know the Forest well."

Nick was nettled. He realized that he had almost committed himself. I saw him covertly glance at the Prince under his eyebrows as if he wondered how this slow-brained, broken-English-speaking youth had found the wit to trap him. But he was equal to the occasion.

"Oh," he replied, easily, "General Palmora during the past ten years has often had me hunting with him in this forest. I should know it well."

"So?" said the Prince, and the subject was dismissed for a time.

The Forest of Zin, as I soon found, was not far distant. In fact it began at the rear of the Framkor estate and extended, so they said, for some fifty miles to the north. All the nobles who owned the adjoining land had established a game preserve over the entire territory and the peasantry was not allowed within its sacred precincts. According to the Prince, many of them had broken the law and, when caught, were "bastinado'd"—severely beaten on the soles of the feet, a method of punishment inherited from the Turks.

So great was the density of the forest when we plunged into it along a narrow bridle path, and so magnificent the height of the trees, that the light of the sun filtered through with difficulty. The resulting gloom was like that of a cloudy day and had its necessary effect upon my spirits. Long narrow roads opened vistas of wide clearings, beyond, which never materialized. All about was the mystery of silence as if the wild things watched in awe the human destroyer march by. Even the dogs, held firmly in leashes of four, lolled their red tongues from their mouths and ceased to give voice to their impatience.

The further we progressed the denser became the growth until at times we were compelled to bend over our horses' heads to avoid the wide arms of the giant oaks, gnarled and twisted, which hung low over our path. Speed at times was impossible and our progress was necessarily slow. The Forest of Zin was no place for a careless rider.

The Big Spring, of which the Prince had spoken, was the fountain head of a little brook that issued from the roots of the largest oak in the forest. We found a score of the Red Fox's men there, preparing a hunter's meal over many wood fires. The odour of the cooking was pleasant to the nostrils. When we dismounted I found that it was nearly eleven o'clock and that it had taken the forenoon to arrive at the hunting grounds.

Squirrels, rabbits and wild birds broiled on revolving spits before the fire, or baked in clay coverings in the heart of the embers, formed the body of the meal. We sat upon a bed of dry leaves and ate with good appetites. Nick and the Prince were in the best of spirits. They examined the spears and talked of the coming hunt with considerable enthusiasm. The black locks and the red curls were frequently commingled and my jealous heart again suffered many pangs at the sight. The Prince had not forgotten the episode of the morning, and it was not long before he again trapped Nick. This time the Prince asked him a quick question in the language, and Nick replied quite naturally before he realized what he had done. When he found himself caught he laughed at his own discomfiture as heartily as did the Prince.

"You are a most interesting man to me," the Prince said gayly. "You have been everywhere; you know so much. You speak so many languages. But why have you learned Bharbazonian? You speak it like a native."

"It is second nature to one who knows the Russian of the south," he replied. "After all, it is only a Slav dialect. I have been perfecting it during my visit here.

"Mysterious man," the Prince replied, "not to have permitted me to know before. Here I have been talking with difficulty in your tongue when I might have been using my own speech all the time."

Thus the Prince broke down Nick's reserve and they ran off into the dialect where I could not follow. To my disgust they seemed to be growing more interested in each other through the medium of the common language, and I was glad when the bush-beaters with their dogs left the party to commence the hunt. But it was a half hour after the hounds had gone that the Keeper of the Spears began his distribution of the weapons. After presenting one to the Prince and Nicholas, he gave me one. The spear was about twelve feet long with a sort of bayonet at one end. It was exceedingly strong and well made, and I marvelled at its lightness. Where the steel met the stock there was a cluster of flowing ribbons, which lent a festive appearance to our band when the riders rested the stock in their stirrups and held their spears vertically in air. Each man seemed like a standard bearer.

Trained to precision of action by experience, the hunters rode to the appointed clearing in the forest whither the bush hunters were tending, and spread out in a long line. Nick and I, with the Prince between us, formed the centre of the line and the rest were placed so that each man could see his neighbour and thus both could watch the woods between for the fleeing quarry. I suppose our party thus covered a distance of two miles and each person in the line was practically alone.

We had not long to wait before the faint baying of the hounds reached our ears from the forest in front. The noise came gradually nearer and nearer. The horses became restive at the sound. The hunt was on in earnest. The first boar broke cover so far away that we had no part in it. We could only sit silent and listen to the chase and the squeal of the boar when the lance pierced him. Similar sounds drew our attention to other parts of the line and then our turn came.

The first wild pig I had ever seen in his native woods trotted swiftly out of the bushes in front of Nicholas and the Prince. It was a large black fellow with wicked-looking yellow tusks that curled up at the ends. When it saw the horsemen it was not afraid, but stopped with curiosity and grunted softly to itself in a familiarly domestic fashion. At sight of the boar, however, the horses began rearing and plunging, so that it was some moments before Nick, who was nearest, could urge his mount to the charge. The Prince's black was ill-behaved also, but the rider had no difficulty in keeping his seat.

Nick, I suppose, must have been an adept in the use of the spear at one time, but he was badly out of practice then. When he came on with his swift rush he missed the vital spot behind the foreleg, or in the centre of the chest, and succeeded only in inflicting a wound along the animal's spine, which let much blood but only angered the beast. His horse carried him some distance beyond before Nick could force him to turn, and in the meantime the Prince with lowered lance entered the fray.

With a sure hand he guided his terror-stricken black after the boar, which, squealing with pain and rage, was charging Nick. The hilt of the Prince's lance rested in the leather socket of the saddle under his knee; the sharp point raced over the ground, its ribbons whipping in the wind. Out of the corner of its wicked little eye the boar saw the approach of its new enemy and wheeled to the attack. If it could gore the horse and unseat the rider, it might easily dispose of the enemy on foot.

But the Prince's stroke was swift and sure. Before the boar had gathered speed the point took him full in the centre of the broad chest. If the Prince's aim was to strike the little white spot there it could not have been more perfect. The force of the blow caused the horse to swerve suddenly in his course, nearly throwing the rider, but the boar stopped in its tracks. The lance came free as the horse leaped over the game, which reached up in a faint effort to strike. With his life blood following the lance, the victim sank slowly to its knees and filled the woods with its dying squeals.

"Well done, Your Highness," shouted Nick in high glee, "'twas a master stroke."

"I am ashamed of you," cried the Prince with an eye on the struggling quarry.

The bush-rangers had evidently done their work well. The game was plenty. Everywhere all along the line came the sound of the chase, the shouts of riding men, the squeals of dying pigs and the barking of dogs let loose to bring a fleeing animal to bay so that the horsemen following slowly might kill it. It seems that only the most intrepid horseman will take his life in his hands attempting to ride at full speed under the trees.

A wild-looking animal darted under the horse Nick was riding and set off at a rapid pace for the other side of the clearing. With a shout Nick started in hot pursuit. At the same moment my turn came. The boar showed in front of me so suddenly that I pulled my horse's head sharply to keep from stepping on it. The animal rushed by while I stupidly stared, making no motion to stop it.

"I am ashamed of you, too," cried the Prince at my elbow as he dug the spurs into his black's side and sped away like the wind.

"Solonika, be careful," I cried, but she was beyond the sound of my voice. As quickly as I could I followed to watch her in action. I had no desire to try my hand with the lance. It required a better training than I possessed.

The boar had a good start and was not long in reaching the sheltering trees on the far side of the clearing. Solonika bent low over her black's neck, and without hesitation followed the game where cooler riders would not dare go.

"Stop," I shouted, but I knew that she would not heed me even though she heard. The excitement of the chase had entered her blood.

There was nothing left for me to do but try to keep her in sight. When I reached the place where she rode in I could still see her going at the top of her speed through the trees. Her lance point pursued the fleeing pig whose speed was incredible. Do what she could the boar kept just a little ahead. Deeper and deeper we went into the forest. The sound of the hunters, the baying of the dogs and the squeals came fainter and fainter to our ears and finally ceased altogether. We were alone.

My horsemanship was not as excellent as Solonika's, and she gradually outdistanced me. I almost despaired of keeping her in sight. Finally, when I was about to give up, when my horse was blowing hard and I was well-nigh spent, I saw her suddenly rein in, throw up her head and look to one side as if she heard someone calling.

While she stood thus intent, four horsemen in black Spanish cloaks, coming from behind the trees, rode up to her side. One wrenched the lance from her hands, another threw his cloak over her head and arms, rendering her powerless, while the third grasped her horse by the bridle and the three set off at a gallop with their prisoner. The fourth drew his sword and waited for me to come up.

I stared in amazement at this extraordinary scene; my heart stopped beating with fear as its full significance burst upon me. I convulsively pulled my horse to a standstill, not knowing what I did. Only my grip on the saddle horn kept me in my seat.

Oh, if Nick were only here; but he was far away with the hunters. It would be hours before they would miss us. What was I to do? Was it better that I should ride back and tell him, or follow the Princess? My brain was stunned. I could not think clearly.

But stay! these were not ordinary highwaymen. Of this I felt sure. I remembered seeing them, or men like them, on the road in front of the summer-house. Were they trying to kidnap the Prince then? Were they members of that mystic band, the Order of the Cross? Nick and the General belonged to that. What good would it do to ride back and tell Nick of something which he, perhaps, already knew, or at least expected? Deserted by both Nick and the General, I felt suddenly alone. My God, alone; with Solonika in the hands of her enemies. What would they not do to her? How could she keep her secret from them? I must save her. I must act quickly.

"Solonika," I shouted, hoping that she might hear and know that she was not deserted.

As I uttered the shout I spurred my horse furiously and he leaped forward to do my bidding. My boar lance was my only weapon; but surely I was better armed than the lone rear guard. He seemed to have only his short sword. Solonika and her captors were still in sight, although far ahead. I must ride fast and free if I would overtake her.

I rode high and recklessly watching the young noble put his horse in motion toward me so as to avoid my spear and make the attack more difficult. I bore down upon him with all speed, shouting as I came. He took hold of his weapon with both hands, preparing to cut my wooden shank with one bold stroke as I made to pierce him.

But, before I reached him, I received a violent blow on the forehead. The branches of the trees hung low about my upraised head. The heavens seemed to have fallen. My enemy vanished as if by magic amid a field of glowing shooting stars darting hither and yon in a field of purple night. A great weakness seized me. The saddle slipped from between my knees, the reins from my nerveless fingers.

I toppled over backwards—unconscious.

CHAPTER XV

THE FOREST OF ZIN

Hear it not, ye stars!

And thou, pale moon, turn paler at the sound!

—Young: Night Thoughts.

It was still daylight when I recovered consciousness. The setting sun was just dipping below the western horizon, and the cathedral light of the forest of Zin was slowly changing with lengthening shadows to the darkness of the coming night. Save for the whir of some heavy bird, flying to roost or the cry of a number of crows far overhead, there was no sound.

The gay coloured ribbons of the boar spear, lying among the dead leaves, brought me back to a slight realization of my position. I abruptly tried to rise. But, when I attempted to move, the trees began to glide around like giant feathers in a motionless atmosphere, and I became aware of an aching head and burning pain in the back. I lay quiet examining the branches overhead.

A little red squirrel, frightened by my sudden movement, leaped from the ground near by and clattered up the trunk of the nearest tree, being careful to put the tree between me and him in his flight. He reappeared high up among the branches, where he rested ready to run, watching me curiously. Was that the trunk of a fallen tree or a man? He concluded that I was an enemy and awoke the echoes with his chattering warning cry, in which there was something of rage. When I again struggled weakly to arise, he fell silent, hid behind a crotch and, from his safe retreat, watched with one little prick ear and one little round eye cautiously exposed.

This time I managed to get to my knees, although the world swayed before my eyes. A spring bubbled coolly among the leaves near-by. I dragged myself to it and, like the rejected soldiers of Joshua, drank with my nose in the water. Greatly refreshed, I rolled over on my back and again tried to think. The little watchman in the tree shifted his position so as to bring his one little eye to bear again. My head was becoming clearer.

Let me see, what had happened to me? Somebody or something had struck me on the head. I put my hand to my aching brow and found my hair matted with dried blood. There was a bad cut just above my forehead. How had I been so injured? Had the swordsman reached me? The swordsman with the long black cloak and the Greek cross upon his breast—what had he done. Ah, yes, I knew. With a rush the whole picture came back.

Solonika had been stolen by the Order of the Cross!

It must have happened only a moment ago. My enemy still fronted me and might even now be waiting to continue, or rather begin, the fight. I came to a sudden sitting posture, but the woods were deserted. The rider had long since made good his escape. My own animal, too, was gone and I wondered if he could find his way back to Framkor stables and give warning of my predicament.

But of what use would that be to Solonika, if, as I strongly suspected, General Palmora and Nicholas were in the plot. True, they might rescue me from the dangers of the forest, but they would not help me rescue the Prince.

Not so fast. Perhaps I might be doing my two friends an injustice in thus accusing them. After all, the men I had seen might be highwaymen. A highwayman's calling in all Balkan countries, I knew, was an ancient and an honourable one, because he never robs his own countrymen but preys upon the inhabitants of border states; also because he is a well-trained rider and a valuable cavalryman in time of war—which in this section of eastern Europe is nearly all the time. But, if the Prince's captors were highwaymen after a rich bounty from the government for the return of the future king on the eve of the coronation, they were the most gentlemanly brigands that ever sat astride a horse. The highwaymen idea was not tenable. Even in Catholic countries, robbers do not go about with large Greek crosses of gold suspended from their necks. The words of the General came back to me.

"The oath of the Duke of Marbosa. Only three days are left."

Three days to the coronation, that was it. The oath of Marbosa? Perhaps the Duke had sworn that Prince Raoul should never be king. Oh, why had I not paid closer attention to the politics of this infernal country? I would know then what this meant; I would not be compelled to guess. Surely politics was behind the kidnapping of the Prince. It was evident, too, that the movement did not have the active support of my two friends, although the General and Nicholas might be forced by stress of circumstances passively to acquiesce. But what did the Order of the Cross hope to gain thereby? It was possible that they were counting upon the feeling of resentment which the populace would naturally feel if the Prince failed to appear at the Cathedral. An insult like that might go far toward changing the succession at the last moment. If that were so, the Order of the Cross, or some of its members at least, were not pleased with the son of the Red Fox as the next ruler. It would necessarily follow that they had another favourite.

The General was not enthusiastic over the heir of Dhalmatia, but he did not seem to have an interest in this affair. If my conclusions were sound, Palmora would have led the men who did it. Evidently they were not sound. Besides, I had never heard him speak of a possible successor of the Prince and, if there had been one, I ought to have heard of it.

Whatever was in the wind, I felt much relieved. If, as I suspected, the Prince was in the hands of the nobles, he had nothing to fear from personal insult. But I trembled to think of his position if his captors learned the truth concerning his sex.

Growing darkness warned me that I must think of my own safety. My position in the wild forest of Zin was fraught with danger. With returning strength, I gathered up my useless boar spear, my only weapon of defence and, going forward, examined the ground where I had last seen the Prince. Here I found the hoof marks of the four horses, galloping side by side, plainly visible, leading off toward the west. It was an easy trail to follow. I recalled that the greatest length of the forest was from the north to the south. If one wished to leave the woods, the quickest course would be to the east or west.

A strong wind forced its way through the tree tops with a moaning sound. Its cold blast chilled me as it blew in my face; its voice was like the voice of a lost soul, wandering forever through the gloom around me. The sun dipped below the trees. If I would follow after the Princess I must hurry, for the light would soon be gone. Mile after mile I walked and ran, keeping my eyes on the ground, bending lower and lower as the darkness fell. Finally I could see the hoof marks no longer.

How I rebelled against my fate. How I cursed the night, and how it seemed to answer with its thousand voices, reiterating the one awful word "Lost." Oh, the wasted hours I had lain unconscious in the woods while Marbosa's men were carrying their prize farther and farther away. Crushed and hopeless though I was, I would not give up. There must be some way to follow the trail even in the dark. But how? How?

I raised my head and looked about. Interminable forest surrounded me on all sides. Nothing but giant oaks met my limited view on every side. To my heightened imagination they seemed to stretch their crooked arms as if to crush me in their bony embrace.

Again the wind went sweeping through the branches and one clear high voice of the night seemed to say "Behold, I am the way. Follow thou me." The wind it must have been, but how was it to help me? Then hope returned for I knew it was a west wind. The trail I longed to follow had never altered from its western course. The wind came from the same direction. There was the solution. If I followed the course of the wind, if I kept it always in my face, I would be able to hold to the trail even in the dark. I shouted aloud for joy at the discovery.

But my progress was distressingly slow. As I went on and on, it became so dark that I was forced to come down to a cautious walk, swinging my boar spear before me, like a blind man on a crowded thoroughfare, to keep from walking into the trunks of the silent trees.

Often through the night I lay down to rest and once I slept, but each time I took the trail I held my moistened finger to the breeze to get my bearings. During one of these enforced rests I built a small fire of dried leaves and ignited a torch of pine wood to help me on my way. After a little searching by means of its feeble light, I made out the fresh marks of the trail on the ground and knew that the west wind held to its course. My tread was as silent as the animals that glared at my camp-fire. I frightened them away with a shower of burning embers. My head ached and my limbs became heavy with a weariness that caused me to rest longer each time I halted.

Once I struck a match and found that it was only eleven o'clock. I had been vainly hoping for daylight and the time went so slowly. How far I had gone I had no means of knowing. But, shortly after I looked at my watch, the moon, great and round and white, came up and shed its soft light through the trees. The sight of it brought me up with a shiver.

The moon was in front of me!

A moon rising in the west I knew was an impossibility! If this were the moon, then by all the laws of nature I must now be facing the east. The east! Was it possible that I had been following the wrong trail? Had the wind, while I blindly yielded to its invisible touch, been veering gently to the south and finally to the east? In that case I had been walking in a half circle and must now be somewhere near my starting point. All my weary walking had gone for nothing. Solonika and Marbosa's men were as far away as ever.

My despair overcame me and my knees gave way beneath me. I sank gently to the ground with a half articulate moan, like a drowning swimmer who feels his strength deserting him.

What was that I heard? Was my mind leaving me under the fearful strain? Surely that sound was not the sound of voices? I listened distraught. There it was again, and this time there was no mistaking it. Close beside me somewhere men were talking and laughing! Then high above all I distinguished one voice singing. And I knew that voice. It acted upon my tired body like the electric waves from a galvanic battery. There could be no mistake. Through the Forest of Zin, mingling with the tinkle of a piano, came the voice of Solonika singing the words of Mohacs' Field.

"Volt nekem egy daru szoru paripam,

De el adta a szegedi kapitany;

Ott sem voltam az aldo mas i vas nal;

No, de sa baj, tobb is veszett Mohacsnal!"

I listened spellbound to the entire verse and heard at the end a chorus of fifty or more male voices join boisterously in the refrain; "No, de sa baj, tobb is veszett Mohacsnal!"

There was no doubt about it; I had found her. Thanks to blind chance and my own perseverance I had stumbled upon the hiding place of the Secret Order of the Cross. It gave me new life to know that she was so near me. A few steps further forward, and another of my difficulties was solved. I found myself under a high stone wall which surrounded the hunting lodge of the Duke of Marbosa. The round white "moon" that had filled me with consternation was a circular window set in the end wall of the lodge. There must be lights in the lower casements, but the only one I had seen over the high wall was this single rose window.

I walked slowly around the wall, seeking an entrance. After a time I came to the main gate. It was made of iron grating and afforded a view of the interior. The lodge was a great stone house, standing in the middle of a clearing within an enclosure. In the rear were the stables. Not a soul was within sight and the gate was locked. Close beside it, however, was a smaller gate which was used as a foot passage. It yielded readily to my hand, opening inward. Fearing the silent presence of a guard I moved the door back slowly, and finally gave it a push as if it were disturbed by the wind. There was no movement. I crept noiselessly through the opening and closed the door so that my figure might not be outlined from the house.

Black shadows of men passed to and fro across the lighted windows, behind closed blinds, like shadowgraphs in a theatre. The singing continued and I frequently heard Solonika's voice. I crept close to the house and cautiously tried the front door; it was locked. Searching for some way to effect an entrance, I skirted the building, keeping close to the stones, and found a door in the rear. It also was locked. I examined each window as I passed; they were covered from top to bottom with heavy wrought-iron screens. The lodge was as tight as a prison house.

I turned my attention next to the roof. Perhaps there was a means of entrance in that direction. Close beside the lodge grew a great oak tree. All its forest neighbours had been cut down when the place was built. Its wide branches overhung the roof. Even though I failed to find a trap-door there, I would be safer in the branches than on the ground in case the Duke had his dogs in the stable. I quietly swung myself up by means of a low-hanging limb, and drew the telltale spear after me.

As my head came clear of the coping I saw the roof was somewhat flat and that a small watch-tower stood in the centre of it. It was composed of nothing but windows. One branch of the tree, which had threatened to grow through the tower, had been sawed off close to the windows. The limb made a natural strong bridge for me, and I could have shouted when I tried the nearest frame and found it slide quietly up under my hand. I was soon standing safely on the floor of the tower.

Feeling in the dark with my feet, I discovered a steep uncarpeted stairway leading down into the house below. The door at the other end was unlocked. As I opened this door the sound of singing and laughing came faintly to my ears. The Duke's men were enjoying themselves with the utmost abandon. Passing down another stairway I came to another door and found myself in a richly carpeted bed room. The bed was empty. I struck a match and saw two doors on the same side of the room. One communicated with another bed room and I tried the other. As I opened it, the noise of shouting and laughing was suddenly almost deafening. Heavy fumes of tobacco smoke and hot much-breathed air filled my nostrils, almost choking me.

I stepped softly out on to a dimly lighted balcony upon which twenty or thirty bed rooms, similar to the one I had just left, found exit. One swift step to the railing and I was looking down upon the Duke's men.

The main room of the lodge was a hunter's paradise. All around the balcony railing over which I leaned hung at regular intervals handsomely mounted heads of bears, wolves, boars, deer and other animals from the forest of Zin. At the end of the room where there was no balcony, under the circular window which had been my "moon," was a mounted lion about to attack two crouching tigers, trophies of the Duke's expeditions to India and Africa. Lying at full length on the lion's back, with his arms loosely around the neck of the animal, was a young trooper fast asleep.

The head and antlers of a large deer, suspended from the balcony in front of me, obscured my vision of the centre of the room below. But it also protected me from any one who might look my way. As I moved cautiously aside for a better view, I saw a long table spread with a white cloth, upon which were the remains of a feast. Standing in the centre of the table among the scattered dishes was the Prince with a sword upraised in his hand. He was singing at the top of his sweet voice that seventeenth century profanation "Down among the Dead Men."

The Duke's men, evidently in the "heigh-li heigh-lo" stage of a merry evening, were giving the Prince their undivided attention. They entered into the spirit of the song and were doing their best to reproduce the pose of the picture I had seen in Solonika's summer-house. One of their number, with his black coat collar turned up, was flattened against a pillar which supported the balcony. An expression of mock fright was upon his face. The rest of the ribald jesters were threatening him with drawn swords. A goodly number were lying on the floor, as if they had refused the toast and had suffered the consequences. But they were in excess of the number required for a faithful reproduction of the picture and I suspected that many of them were there because of the empty bottles.

As I looked around the room I understood why the Duke of Marbosa had not stationed guards at his gates to see that the Prince did not escape. The main door which I had found locked was under the balcony opposite the wall in which was the circular window. If the Prince attempted to flee that way, he would have to do it in full view of every one in the room. Two broad stairways, one on each side of the hall, led up to the balcony and to the bed rooms beyond. Escape in this direction was impossible on account of the wrought-iron screens. But I knew if I could communicate with the Prince, he would be able to leave the lodge with me in the same manner I had entered it.

Once outside, unless we were tracked with dogs, the forest would hide us while we made our way back on foot to Dhalmatia. We could travel by night and hide, like the Babes in the Woods, under a covering of leaves in the daytime if necessary. I remembered that, while I had heard the horses pawing in their stalls, no dog barked and the recollection cheered me. If only I could attract the Prince's attention.

But, even if I did make him see me, how was I to let him know how to escape? I must write him a note and get it into his hands somehow. Searching my pockets I found a small piece of paper and a lead pencil. I rested the paper on the top of the railing and indited my first letter to Solonika. It read:

"Ninth room on south side; stairway to attic; stairway to watch tower on roof. Come.

"DALE."

I knew if I permitted the sheet to flutter to the room below, it would be seen and read by unfriendly eyes. I must have some way of weighting it so that I could throw it where I willed. I examined every pocket carefully and went through the search three times but failed to find anything which would answer the purpose. The only thing I considered was my penknife. I might roll the note up and slip it beneath one of the blades. But my better judgment told me it would not do. The noise of the knife's fall would attract attention.

I was almost in despair when my hand came in contact with the diamond ring which I wore upon my little finger. It was the very thing. I could roll the note up into a small wad and insert it in the ring. That would give it the required bulk and weight, and my message would not be seen as it flew through the air. Then too the tinkle of a ring upon the stone pavement would not be heard above all the noise of the revellers. Quickly I drew the circlet from my finger and fastened the wad of paper securely within. Then with some impatience I awaited my opportunity.

A loud knocking upon the main entrance created the diversion I craved. So loud and unexpected was the call from the outside world that the noise within was instantly stilled and every man arose and drew his sword. All eyes were turned toward the door but no one moved to open it. Who could have found the lonely lodge in the forest at this time of night? Could the Red Fox of Dhalmatia, already apprised of his son's capture, be here with his retainers seeking vengeance?