for the trials that still confronted her on that dreaded
morning. She had saved him, and she was willing to pay the price.

Preparations began at once for the eventful transaction in the throne
room. The splendor of two Courts was to shine in rivalry. Ten o'clock
was the hour set for the meeting of the two rulers, the victor and the
victim. Her nobles and her ladies, her ministers, her guards and her
lackeys moved about in the halls, dreading the hour, brushing against
the hated Axphain guests. In one of the small waiting rooms sat the
Count and Countess Halfont, the latter in tears. The young Countess
Dagmar stood at a window with Harry Anguish. The latter was flushed and
nervous and acted like a man who expects that which is unexpected by
others. With a strange confidence in his voice, he sought to cheer
his depressed friends, but the cheerfulness was not contagious. The
sombreness of a burial hung over the castle.

Half an hour before the time set for the meeting in the throne room
Yetive sent for her uncle, her aunt and Dagmar. As Anguish and the
latter followed the girl turned her sad, puzzled eyes up to the face of
the tall American and asked:

"Are you rejoicing over our misfortune? You do not show a particle of
regret. Do you forget that we are sacrificing a great deal to save the
life of your friend? I do not understand how you can be so heartless."

"If you knew what I know you'd jump so high you could crack those pretty
heels of yours together ten times before you touched the floor again,"
said he, warmly.

"Please tell me," she cried. "I knew there was something."

"But I am afraid so high a jump would upset you for the day. You must
wait awhile, Dagmar." It was the first time he had called her Dagmar,
and she looked startled.

"I am not used to waiting," she said, confusedly.

"I think I can explain satisfactorily when I have more time," he said,
softly in her ear, and, although she tried, she could find no words to
continue. He left her at the head of the stairs, and did not see her
again until she passed him in the throne room. Then she was pale and
brave and trembling.

Prince Bolaroz and his nobles stood to the right of the throne, the
Graustark men and women of degree to the left, while near the door,
on both sides were to be seen the leading military men of both
principalities. Near the Duke of Mizrox was stationed the figure of
Gabriel, Prince of Dawsbergen. He had come, with a half dozen f