CHAPTER VI
THE HOME OF THE LION
"May all storms be as pleasant as this one!" she heard someone say, witha merry laugh. The next instant she was placed soundly upon her feet. Ablinding flash of lightning revealed Baldos, the goat-hunter, at herside, while a dozen shadowy figures were scrambling to their feet in allcorners of the Hawk and Raven. Someone was clutching her by the dress atthe knees. She did not have to look down to know that it was Aunt Fanny.
"Goodness!" gasped the princess, and then it was pitch dark again. Theman at her side called out a command in his own language, and thenturned his face close to hers.
"Do not be alarmed. We are quite safe now. The royal bed-chamber hascome to grief, however, I am sorry to say. What a fool I was not to haveforeseen all this! The storm has been brewing since midnight," he wassaying to her.
"Isn't it awful?" cried Beverly, between a moan a shriek.
"They are trifles after one gets used to them," he said. "I have come tobe quite at home in the tempest. There are other things much moreannoying, I assure your highness. We shall have lights in a moment."Even as he spoke, two or three lanterns began to flicker feebly.
"Be quiet, Aunt Fanny; you are not killed at all," commanded Beverly,quite firmly.
"De house is suah to blow down. Miss--yo' highness," groaned the trustymaidservant. Beverly laughed bravely but nervously with the tallgoat-hunter. He at once set about making his guest comfortable andsecure from the effects of the tempest, which was now at its height. Hercouch of cushions was dragged far back into the cavern and the rescuedblankets, though drenched, again became a screen.
"Do you imagine that I'm going in there while this storm rages?" Beverlydemanded, as the work progressed.
"Are you not afraid of lightning? Most young women are."
"That's the trouble. I am afraid of it. I'd much rather stay out herewhere there is company. You don't mind, do you?"
"Paradise cannot be spurned by one who now feels its warmth for thefirst time," said he, gallantly. "Your fear is my delight. Pray sit uponour throne. It was once a humble carriage pail of leather, but now it isexalted. Besides, it is much more comfortable than some of the gildedchairs we hear about."
"You are given to irony, I fear," she said, observing a peculiar smileon his lips.
"I crave pardon, your highness," he said, humbly "The heart of thegoat-hunter is more gentle than his wit. I shall not again forget thatyou are a princess and I the veriest beggar."
"I didn't mean to hurt you!" she cried, in contrition, for she was avery poor example of what a princess is supposed to be.
"There is no wound, your highness," he quickly said. With a mockinggrace that almost angered her, he dropped to his knee and motioned forher to be seated. She sat down suddenly, clapping her hands to her earsand shutting her eyes tightly. The crash of thunder that came at thatinstant was the most fearful of all, and it was a full minute before shedared to lift her lids again. He was standing before her, and there wasgenuine compassion in his face. "It's terrible," he said. "Never beforehave I seen such a storm. Have courage, your highness; it can last butlittle longer."
"Goodness!" said the real American girl, for want of something moreexpressive.
"Your servant has crept into your couch, I fear. Shall I sit here atyour feet? Perhaps you may feel a small sense of security if I--"
"Indeed, I want you to sit there," she cried. He forthwith threw himselfupon the floor of the cave, a graceful, respectful guardian. Minuteswent by without a word from either. The noise of the storm made itimpossible to speak and be heard. Scattered about the cavern were hisoutstretched followers, doubtless asleep once more in all thisturmoil. With the first lull in the war of the elements, Beverly gaveutterance to the thought that long had been struggling for release.
"Why do you wear that horrid black patch over your eye?" she asked, atrifle timidly. He muttered a sharp exclamation and clapped his hand tohis eye. For the first time since the beginning of their strangeacquaintanceship Beverly observed downright confusion in this debonairknight of the wilds.
"It has--has slipped off--" he stammered, with a guilty grin. His merryinsolence was gone, his composure with it. Beverly laughed with keenenjoyment over the discomfiture of the shame-faced vagabond.
"You can't fool me," she exclaimed, shaking her finger at him in themost unconventional way. "It was intended to be a disguise. There isabsolutely nothing the matter with your eye."
He was speechless for a moment, recovering himself. Wisdom is conceivedin silence, and he knew this. Vagabond or gentleman, he was a cleveractor.
"The eye is weak, your highness, and I cover it in the daytime toprotect it from the sunlight," he said, coolly.
"That's all very nice, but it looks to be quite as good as theother. And what is more, sir, you are not putting the patch over thesame eye that wore it when I first saw you. It was the left eye atsunset. Does the trouble transfer after dark?"
He broke into an honest laugh and hastily moved the black patch acrosshis nose to the left eye.
"I was turned around in the darkness, that's all," he said, serenely."It belongs over the left eye, and I am deeply grateful to you fordiscovering the error."
"I don't see any especial reason why you should wear it after dark, doyou? There is no sunlight, I'm sure."
"I am dazzled, nevertheless," he retorted.
"Fiddlesticks!" she said. "This is a cave, not a drawing-room."
"In other words, I am a lout and not a courtier," he smiled. "Well, alout may look at a princess. We have no court etiquette in the hills, Iam sorry to say."
"That was very unkind, even though you said it most becomingly," sheprotested. "You have called this pail a throne. Let us also imagine thatyou are a courtier."
"You punish me most gently, your highness. I shall not forget my mannersagain, believe me." He seemed thoroughly subdued.
"Then I shall expect you to remove that horrid black thing. It ispositively villainous. You look much better without it."
"Is it an edict or a compliment?" he asked with such deep gravity thatshe flushed.
"It is neither," she answered. "You don't have to take it off unless youwant to--"
"In either event, it is off. You were right. It serves as a partialdisguise. I have many enemies and the black patch is a very goodfriend."
"How perfectly lovely," cried Beverly. "Tell me all about it. I adorestories about feuds and all that."
"Your husband is an American. He should be able to keep you wellentertained with blood-and-thunder stories," said he.
"My hus--What do you--Oh, yes!" gasped Beverly. "To be sure. I didn'thear you, I guess. That was rather a severe clap of thunder, wasn't it?"
"Is that also a command?"
"What do you mean?"
"There was no thunderclap, you know."
"Oh, wasn't there?" helplessly.
"The storm is quite past. There is still a dash of rain in the air andthe wind may be dying hard, but aside from that I think the noise isquite subdued."
"I believe you are right. How sudden it all was."
"There are several hours between this and dawn, your highness, and youshould try to get a little more sleep. Your cushions are dry and--"
"Very well, since you are so eager to get rid of--" began Beverly, andthen stopped, for it did not sound particularly regal. "I should havesaid, you are very thoughtful. You will call me if I sleep late?"
"We shall start early, with your permission. It is forty miles toGanlook, and we must be half way there by nightfall."
"Must we spend another night like this?" cried Beverly, dolefully.
"Alas, I fear you must endure us another night. I am afraid, however, weshall not find quarters as comfortable as these of the Hawk and Raven."
"I didn't mean to be ungrateful and--er--snippish," she said, wonderingif he knew the meaning of the word.
"No?" he said politely, and she knew he did not--whereupon she feltdistinctly humbled.
"You know you speak such excellent English," she said irrelevantly.
He bowed low. As he straightened his figure, to his amazement, he beheldan agonizing look of horror on her face; her eyes riveted on the mouthof the cavern. Then, there came an angrier sound, unlike any that hadgone before in that night of turmoil.
"Look there! Quick!"
The cry of terror from the girl's palsied lips, as she pointed tosomething behind him, awoke the mountain man to instantaction. Instinctively, he snatched his long dagger from its sheath andturned quickly. Not twenty feet from them a huge cat-like beast stoodhalf crouched on the edge of the darkness, his long tail switchingangrily. The feeble light from the depth of the cave threw the long,water-soaked visitor into bold relief against the black wall beyond.Apparently, he was as much surprised as the two who glared at him, asthough frozen to the spot. A snarling whine, a fierce growl, indicatedhis fury at finding his shelter--his lair occupied.
"My God! A mountain lion! Ravone! Franz! To me!" he cried hoarsely, andsprang before her shouting loudly to the sleepers.
A score of men, half awake, grasped their weapons and struggled to theirfeet in answer to his call. The lion's gaunt body shot through theair. In two bounds, he was upon the goat-hunter. Baldos stood squarelyand firmly to meet the rush of the maddened beast, his long daggerpoised for the death-dealing blow.
"Run!" he shouted to her.
Beverly Calhoun had fighting blood in her veins. Utterly unconscious ofher action, at the time, she quickly drew the little silver-handledrevolver from the pocket of her gown. As man, beast and knife cametogether, in her excitement she fired recklessly at the combatantswithout any thought of the imminent danger of killing herprotector. There was a wild scream of pain from the wounded beast, morepistol shots, fierce yells from the excited hunters, the rush of feetand then the terrified and almost frantic girl staggered and fellagainst the rocky wall. Her wide gray eyes were fastened upon thewrithing lion and the smoking pistol was tightly clutched in her hand.
It had all occurred in such an incredible short space of time that shecould not yet realize what had happened.
Her heart and brain seemed paralyzed, her limbs stiff andimmovable. Like the dizzy whirl of a kaleidoscope, the picture beforeher resolved itself into shape.
The beast was gasping his last upon the rocky floor, the hilt of thegoat hunter's dagger protruding from his side. Baldos, supported by twoof his men, stood above the savage victim, his legs covered with blood.The cave was full of smoke and the smell of powder. Out of the haze shebegan to see the light of understanding. Baldos alone was injured. Hehad stood between her and the rush of the lion, and he had saved her, ata cost she knew not how great.
"Oh, the blood!" she cried hoarsely. "Is it--is it--are you badly hurt?"She was at his side, the pistol falling from her nervous fingers.
"Don't come near me; I'm all right," he cried quickly.
"Take care--your dress--"
"Oh, I'm so glad to hear you speak! Never mind the dress! You are tornto pieces! You must be frightfully hurt. Oh, isn't itterrible--horrible! Aunt Fanny! Come here this minute!"
Forgetting the beast and throwing off the paralysis of fear, she pushedone of the men away and grasped the arm of the injured man. He wincedperceptibly and she felt something warm and sticky on her hands. Sheknew it was blood, but it was not in her to shrink at a moment likethis.
"Your arm, too!" she gasped. He smiled, although his face was white withpain. "How brave you were! You might have been--I'll never forgetit--never! Don't stand there, Aunt Fanny! Quick! Get those cushions forhim. He's hurt."
"Good Lawd!" was all the old woman could say, but she obeyed hermistress.
"It was easier than it looked, your highness," murmured Baldos. "Luckwas with me. The knife went to his heart. I am merely scratched. Hisleap was short, but he caught me above the knees with his claws. Alas,your highness, these trousers of mine were bad enough before, but nowthey are in shreds. What patching I shall have to do! And you may wellimagine we are short of thread and needles and thimbles--"
"Don't jest, for heaven's sake! Don't talk like that. Here! Lie downupon these cushions and--"
"Never! Desecrate the couch of Graustark's ruler? I, the poorgoat-hunter? I'll use the lion for a pillow and the rock for anoperating table. In ten minutes my men can have these scratches dressedand bound--in fact, there is a surgical student among them, poorfellow. I think I am his first patient. Ravone, attend me."
He threw himself upon the ground and calmly placed his head upon thebody of the animal.
"I insist upon your taking these cushions," cried Beverly.
"And I decline irrevocably." She stared at him in positive anger. "TrustRavone to dress these trifling wounds, your highness. He may not be asgentle, but he is as firm as any princess in all the world."
"But your arm?" she cried. "Didn't you say it was your legs? Your arm iscovered with blood, too. Oh, dear me, I'm afraid you are frightfullywounded."
"A stray bullet from one of my men struck me there, I think. You knowthere was but little time for aiming--?"
"Wait! Let me think a minute! Good heavens!" she exclaimed with astart. Her eyes were suddenly filled with tears and there was a break inher voice. "I shot you! Don't deny it--don't! It is the right arm, andyour men could not have hit it from where they stood. Oh, oh, oh!"
Baldos smiled as he bared his arm. "Your aim was good," headmitted. "Had not my knife already been in the lion's heart, yourbullet would have gone there. It is my misfortune that my arm was in theway. Besides, your highness, it has only cut through the skin--and alittle below, perhaps. It will be well in a day or two, I am sure youwill find your bullet in the carcass of our lamented friend, theprobable owner of this place."
Ravone, a hungry-looking youth, took charge of the wounded leader, whileher highness retreated to the farthest corner of the cavern. There shesat and trembled while the wounds were being dressed. Aunt Fanny bustledback and forth, first unceremoniously pushing her way through the circleof men to take observations, and then reporting to the impatientgirl. The storm had passed and the night was still, except for the rushof the river; raindrops fell now and then from the trees, glisteninglike diamonds as they touched the light from the cavern's mouth. It wasall very dreary, uncanny and oppressive to poor Beverly. Now and thenshe caught herself sobbing, more out of shame and humiliation than insadness, for had she not shot the man who stepped between her and death?What must he think of her?
"He says yo' all 'd betteh go to baid, Miss Bev--yo' highness," saidAunt Fanny after one of her trips.
"Oh, he does, does he?" sniffed Beverly. "I'll go to bed when Iplease. Tell him so. No, no--don't do it, Aunt Fanny! Tell him I'll goto bed when I'm sure he is quite comfortable, not before."
"But he's jes' a goat puncheh er a--"
"He's a man, if there ever was one. Don't let me hear you call him agoat puncher again. How are his legs?" Aunt Fanny was almost stunned bythis amazing question from her ever-decorous mistress. "Why don't youanswer? Will they have to be cut off? Didn't you see them?"
"Fo' de Lawd's sake, missy, co'se Ah did, but yo' all kindeh suspriseme. Dey's p'etty bad skun up, missy; de hide's peeled up consid'ble. Buthit ain' dang'ous,--no, ma'am. Jes' skun, 'at's all."
"And his arm--where I shot him?"
"Puffec'ly triflin', ma'am,--yo' highness. Cobwebs 'd stop de bleedin'an' Ah tole 'em so, but 'at felleh couldn' un'stan' me. Mistehwhat's-his-names he says something to de docteh, an' den dey goes aftehde cobwebs, suah 'nough. 'Tain' bleedin' no mo', missy. He's mostes'neah doin' we'y fine. Co'se, he cain' walk fo' sev'l days wiv dem laigso' his'n, but--"
"Then, in heaven's name, how are we to get to Edelweiss?"
"He c'n ride, cain't he? Wha's to hindeh him?"
"Quite right. He shall ride inside the coach. Go and see if I can doanything for him."
Aunt Fanny returned in a few minutes.
"He says yo'll do him a great favoh if yo' jes' go to baid. He sends his
'spects an' hopes yo' slumbeh won' be distubbed ag'in."
"He's a perfect brute!" exclaimed Beverly, but she went over and crawledunder the blankets and among the cushions the wounded man had scorned.
Beverly of Graustark Page 7
