although no one questioned the perfectly human pluck that brought it
about. Noble ladies smiled upon him in the park, to which they now
repaired with timorous hearts; counts and barons slapped him on the back
and doughty guardsmen actually saluted him with admiration in their
eyes.

But he was not satisfied. Loraine had not come forward with a word of
greeting or relief; in fact, she had not appeared outside the Castle
doors. Strangely enough, with the entire park at his disposal, he chose
to frequent those avenues nearest the great balconies. More than once he
visited the grotto where he had first seen her; but it was not the same.
The occasional crack of a rifle on the walls no longer fired him with
the interest he had felt in the beginning. Forty-eight hours had passed
and she still held aloof. What could it mean? Was she ill? Had she
collapsed after the frightful strain?

Worse than anything else: was she devoting all of her time to Count Vos
Engo?

Toward dusk on Monday, long after the arrival of the refugees, he sat in
gloomy contemplation of his own unhappiness, darkly glowering upon the
unfriendly portals from a distant stone bench.

A brisk guardsman separated himself from the knot of men at the Castle
doors and crossed the Plaza toward him.

"Aha," thought Truxton warmly, "at last she is sending a message to me.
Perhaps she's--no, she couldn't be sending for me to come to her."

Judge his dismay and anger when the soldier, a bit shamefaced himself,
briefly announced that Count Vos Engo had issued an order against
loitering in close proximity to the Castle. Mr. King was inside the
limit described in the order. Would he kindly retire to a more distant
spot, etc.

Truxton's cheek burned. He saw in an instant that the order was meant
for him and for no one else--he being the only outsider likely to come
under the head of "loiterer." A sharp glance revealed the fact that not
only were the officers watching the little scene, but others in the
balcony were looking on.

Resisting the impulse to argue the point, he hastily lifted his hat to
the spectators and turned into the avenue without a word.

"I am sorry, sir," mentioned the guardsman earnestly.

Truxton turned to him with a frank smile, meant for the group at the
steps. "Please tell Count Vos Engo that I am the last person in the
world to disregard discipline at a time like this."

His glance again swept the balcony, suddenly becoming fixed on a c