“Why do you smile?” asked the girl.
“At our dilemma,” evaded Barney.
“Have you paused to consider our situation?”
The girl smiled, too.
“It is most unconventional,” she said.
“On foot and alone in the mountains, far from
home, and we do not even know each other’s name.”
“Pardon me,” cried Barney, bowing low.
“Permit me to introduce myself. I am,”
and then to the spirits of Romance and Adventure was
added a third, the spirit of Deviltry, “I am
the mad king of Lutha.”
OVER THE PRECIPICE
The effect of his words upon the girl were quite different
from what he had expected. An American girl would
have laughed, knowing that he but joked. This
girl did not laugh. Instead her face went white,
and she clutched her bosom with her two hands.
Her brown eyes peered searchingly into the face of
the man.
“Leopold!” she cried in a suppressed voice.
“Oh, your majesty, thank God that you are free—and
sane!”
Before he could prevent it the girl had seized his
hand and pressed it to her lips.
Here was a pretty muddle! Barney Custer swore
at himself inwardly for a boorish fool. What
in the world had ever prompted him to speak those
ridiculous words! And now how was he to unsay
them without mortifying this beautiful girl who had
just kissed his hand?
She would never forgive that—he was sure
of it.
There was but one thing to do, however, and that was
to make a clean breast of it. Somehow, he managed
to stumble through his explanation of what had prompted
him, and when he had finished he saw that the girl
was smiling indulgently at him.
“It shall be Mr. Bernard Custer if you wish
it so,” she said; “but your majesty need
fear nothing from Emma von der Tann. Your secret
is as safe with me as with yourself, as the name of
Von der Tann must assure you.”
She looked to see the expression of relief and pleasure
that her father’s name should have brought to
the face of Leopold of Lutha, but when he gave no
indication that he had ever before heard the name
she sighed and looked puzzled.
“Perhaps,” she thought, “he doubts
me. Or can it be possible that, after all, his
poor mind is gone?”
“I wish,” said Barney in a tone of entreaty,
“that you would forgive and forget my foolish
words, and then let me accompany you to the end of
your journey.”
“Whither were you bound when I became the means
of wrecking your motor car?” asked the girl.
“To the Old Forest,” replied Barney.
Now she was positive that she was indeed with the
mad king of Lutha, but she had no fear of him, for
since childhood she had heard her father scout the
idea that Leopold was mad. For what other purpose
would he hasten toward the Old Forest than to take
refuge in her father’s castle upon the banks
of the Tann at the forest’s verge?
