His last and master-stroke in the struggle to persuade came on the afternoon of the nineteenth, at an hour when all Edelweiss was in gloom and when the Princess was taxed to the point where the mask of courage was so frail that she could scarce hide her bleeding soul behind it.

Bolaroz of Axphain, to quote from the news-despatch, was in Edelweiss, a guest, with a few of his lords, in the castle.  North of the city were encamped five thousand men.  He had come prepared to cancel the little obligation of fifteen years standing.  With the hated creditor in the castle, his influence hovering above the town, the populace distracted by the thoughts of the day to come, Gabriel played what he considered his best card.  He asked for and obtained a final interview with Yetive, not in her boudoir or her reception room, but in the throne room, where she was to meet Bolaroz in the morning.

The Princess, seated on her throne, awaited the approach of the resourceful, tenacious suitor.  He came and behind him strode eight stalwart men, bearing a long iron-bound chest, the result of his effort with his bankers.  Yetive and her nobles looked in surprise on this unusual performance.  Dropping to his knee before the throne, Gabriel said, his voice trembling slightly with eagerness and fear: 

“Your Highness, to-morrow will see the turning point in the history of two, possibly three nations—­Graustark, Axphain and Dawsbergen.  I have included my own land because its ruler is most vitally interested.  He would serve and save Graustark, as you know, and he would satisfy Axphain.  It is in my power to give you aid at this last, trying hour, and I implore you to listen to my words of sincerest friendship,—­yes, adoration.  To-morrow you are to pay to Prince Bolaroz over twenty-five million gavvos or relinquish the entire north half of your domain.  I understand the lamentable situation.  You can raise no more than fifteen millions and you are helpless.  He will grant no extension of time.  You know what I have proffered before.  I come to-day to repeat my friendly offer and to give unquestioned bond as to my ability to carry it out.  If you agree to accept the loan I extend, ten million gavvos for fifteen years at the usual rate of interest, you can on to-morrow morning place in the hand of Axphain when he makes his formal demand the full amount of your indebtedness in gold.  Ricardo, open the chest!”

An attendant threw open the lid of the chest.  It was filled with gold coins.

“This box contains one hundred thousand gavvos.  There are in your halls nine boxes holding nine times as much as you see here.  And there are nine times as much all told on the way.  This is an evidence of my good faith.  Here is the gold.  Pay Bolaroz and owe Gabriel, the greatest happiness that could come to him.”

There was a dead silence after this theatrical action.

“The interest on this loan is not all you ask, I understand,” said Halfont, slowly, his black eyes glittering.  “You ask something that Graustark cannot and will not barter—­the hand of its Sovereign.  If you are willing to make this loan, naming a fair rate of interest, withdrawing your proposal of marriage, we can come to an agreement.”