Down on the promenade he could see the figures of men and women strolling in the moonlight.  To his ears came the occasional laugh of a man, the silvery gurgle of a woman.  The royal military band was playing in the stand near the edge of the great circle.  There was gaiety, comfort, charm and security about everything that came to his eyes and ears.  Was it possible that this peace, unruffled, was so near its end?

He smiled as he neard Harry Anguish laugh gaily in his good old way, his ringing tones mingling with a woman’s.  There was no trouble in the hearts of the Countess and his blithe comrade.  Behind him rose the grim castle walls, from the windows of which, here and there, gleamed the lights of the night.  Where was she?  He had seen her in the afternoon and had talked with her, had walked with her.  Their conversation had been bright, but of the commonplace kind.  She had said nothing to indicate that she remembered the hour spent beside his couch a day or so before; he had uttered none of the words that struggled to rush from his lips, the questions, the pleadings, the vows.  Where was she now?  Not in that gay crowd below, for he had scanned every figure with the hawk’s eve.  Closeted again, no doubt, with her ministers, wearying her tired brain, her brave heart into fatigue without rest.

Her court still trembled with the excitement of the daring attempt of the abductors and their swift punishment.  Functionaries flocked to Edelweiss to inquire after the welfare of the Princess, and indignation was at the highest pitch.  There were theories innumerable as to the identity of the arch-conspirator.  Baron Dangloss was at sea completely.  He cursed himself and everybody else for the hasty and ill-timed execution of the hirelings.  It was quite evident that the buzzing wonder and intense feeling of the people had for the moment driven out all thought of the coming day of judgment and its bitter atonement for all Graustark.  To-day the castle was full of the nobility, drawn to its walls by the news that had startled them beyond all expression.  The police were at work, the military trembled with rage, the people clamored for the apprehension of the man who had been the instigator of this audacity.  The general belief was that some brigand chief from the south had planned the great theft for the purpose of securing a fabulous ransom.  Grenfall Lorry had an astonishing theory in his mind, and the more he thought it over the more firmly it was imbedded.

The warm, blue coils from the cigar wafted away into the night, carrying with them a myriad of tangled thoughts,—­of her, of Axphain, of the abductor, of himself, of everything.  A light step on the stone floor of the shadowy balcony attracted his attention.  He turned his head and saw the Princess Yetive.  She was walking slowly toward the balustrade, not aware of his presence.  There was no covering for the dark hair, no wrap about the white shoulders.