Beverly of Graustark by McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"Did you learn to say 'you all' in America?" he asked. Her heart gave a great leap. There was something so subtle in the query that she was vastly relieved.

"Never mind about that, sir. You won't tell me what you said in your note to Ravone."

"I cannot."

"Well, he gave you one in return. If you are perfectly sincere, Baldos, you will hand that note over to me. It shall go no farther, I swear to you, if, as you vow, it does not jeopardize Graustark. Now, sir, prove your loyalty and your honesty."

He hesitated for a long time. Then from an inner pocket he drew forth a bit of paper.

"I don't see why it has not been destroyed," he said regretfully. "What a neglectful fool I have been!"

"You might have said it had been destroyed," she said, happy because he had not said it.

"But that would have been a lie. Read it, your highness, and return it to me. It must be destroyed."

"It is too dark to read it here." Without a word he handed the paper to her and called the chair bearers, to whom he gave instructions that brought her speedily beneath one of the park lamps. She afterwards recalled the guilty impulse which forced her to sit on the tell-tale note while the men were carrying her along in the driveway. When it was quite safe she slyly opened the missive. His hand closed over hers, and the note, and he bent close once more.

"My only fear is that the test will make it impossible for me to kiss your hand again," said he in a strained voice. She looked up in surprise.

"Then it is really something disloyal?"

"I have called it a test, your highness," he responded enigmatically.

"Well, we'll see," she said, and forthwith turned her eyes to the all-important paper. A quick flush crossed her brow; her eyes blinked hopelessly. The note was written in the Graustark language!

"I'll read it later, Baldos. This is no place for me to be reading notes, don't you know? Really, it isn't. I'll give it back to you to-morrow," she was in haste to say.

An inscrutable smile came over his face.

"Ravone's information is correct, I am now convinced," he said slowly. "Pray, your highness, glance over it now, that I may destroy it at once," he persisted.

"The light isn't good."

"It seems excellent."

"And I never saw such a miserable scrawl as this. He must have written it on horseback and at full gallop,"

"It is quite legible, your highness."

"I really cannot read the stuff. You know his handwriting. Read it to me. I'll trust you to read It carefully."

"This is embarrassing, your highness, but I obey, of course, if you command. Here is what Ravone says:

"'We have fresh proof that she is not the princess, but the American girl. Be exceedingly careful that she does not lead you into any admissions. The Americans are tricky. Have little to say to her, and guard your tongue well. We are all well and are hoping for the best.'"

CHAPTER XVIII

CONFESSIONS AND CONCESSIONS

Beverly was speechless.