Truxton dear. And, as it is with all men of his race, love knew
no reason, no compromise. But I have made him see that I--that I cannot
be his wife. He knows that I love you."

"Somehow, darling, I'm sorry for him."

"He will not pretend friendship for you, dear," she went on painfully.
"He only wants to thank you and to apologise, as you did, not so long
ago. And he wants to ask you to release him from a certain obligation."

"You mean our--our fight?"

"Yes. He is to lose his right arm, Truxton. You understand how it is
with him now."

CHAPTER XXIII

"YOU WILL BE MRS. KING"

Late that night it was reported at the Castle that a large force of men
were encamped on the opposite side of the river. A hundred camp-fires
were gleaming against the distant uplands.

"The Grand Duke Paulus!" exclaimed Count Halfont. "Thank God, he did not
come a day earlier. We owe him nothing to-day--but yesterday! Ah, he
could have demanded much of us. Send his messengers to me, Colonel
Quinnox, as soon as they arrive in the morning. I will arise early.
There is much to do in Graustark. Let there be no sluggards."

A mellow, smiling moon crept up over the hills, flooding the laud with a
serene radiance. Once more the windows in the Castle gleamed brightly;
low-voiced people strolled through the shattered balconies; others
wandered about the vast halls, possessed by uncertain emotions, torn by
the conflicting hands of joy and gloom. In a score of rooms wounded men
were lying; in others there were dead heroes. At the barracks, standing
dully against the distant shadows, there were many cots of suffering.
And yet there was rejoicing, even among those who writhed in pain or
bowed their heads in grief. Victory's wings were fanning the gloom away;
conquest was painting an ever-widening streak of brightness across the
dark, drear canvas of despair.

In one of the wrecked approaches to the terrace, surrounded by fragments
of stone and confronted by ugly destruction, sat a young man and a
slender girl. There were no lights near them; the shadows were black
and forbidding. This particular end of the terrace had suffered most in
the fierce rain of cannon-balls. So great was the devastation here that
one attained the position held by the couple only by means of no little
daring and at the risk of unkind falls. From where they sat they could
see the long vista of lighted windows and yet could not themselves be
seen.

His arm was abo