Two weeks later Grenfall Lorry was landed and enjoying the sensations, the
delights of that wonderful world called by the name of Paris. The second
day after his arrival he met a Harvard man of his time on the street.
Harry Anguish had been a pseudo art student for two years. When at college
he was a hail-fellow-well-met, a leader in athletics and in matters upon
which faculties frown. He and Lorry were warm friends, although utterly
unlike in temperament; to know either of these men was to like him;
between the two one found all that was admirable and interesting in man.
The faults and virtues of each were along such different lines that they
balanced perfectly when lumped upon the scale of personal estimation.
Their unexpected meeting in Paris, was as exhilarating pleasure to both,
and for the next week or so they were inseparable. Together they sipped
absinthe at the cafes and strolled into the theaters, the opera, the dance
halls and the homes of some of Anguish's friends, French and American.
Lorry did not speak to his friend of Graustark until nearly two weeks
after his arrival in the city. He had discussed with himself the
advisability of revealing his plans to Anguish, fearing the latter's
ridicule with all the cowardice of a man who knows that scoffing is, in a
large measure, justifiable. Growing impatient to begin the search for the
unheard-of country, its capital and at least one of its inhabitants, he
was at last compelled to inform Anguish, to a certain extent, of his plans
for the future. He began by telling him of his intention to take a run
over toward Vienna, Buda-Pesth and some of the Eastern cities, expecting
to be gone a couple of months. To his surprise and consternation, Anguish
enthusiastically volunteered to take the trip with him, having had the
same project in view for nearly a year.
There was nothing left for Lorry but to make a clean breast of it, which
he did shamefacedly, expecting the laughter and raillery of his
light-hearted friend as payment for his confidence. Instead, however,
Anguish, who possessed a lively and romantic nature, was charmed by the
story and proclaimed it to be the most delightful adventure that had ever
happened outside of a story-book.
“Tell me all about her,” he urged, his eyes sparkling with boyish
enthusiasm. And Lorry proceeded to give him a personal description of the
mysterious beauty, introducing him, in the same manner, to the
distinguished uncle and aunt, adding all those details which had
confounded and upset him during his own investigations.
“This is rich!” exclaimed Anguish. “Beats any novel written, I declare.
Begad, old man, I don't blame you for hunting down this wonderful bit of
femininity. With a curiosity and an admiration that had been sharpened so
keenly as yours, I'd go to the end of the world myself to have them
“I may be able to satisfy but one—curiosity. And maybe not that. But
who knows of Graustark?”
“Don't give up before you've tried. If these people live in such a place,
why, it is to be found, of course. Any railroad guide-book can locate this
land of mystery. There are so many infernal little kingdoms and
principalities over here that it would take a lifetime to get 'em all
straightened out in one's head. To-morrow morning we will go to one of the
big railway-stations and make inquiries. We'll locate Graustark and then
we'll go over and pluck the flower that grows there. All you need, my boy,
is a manager. I'll do the arranging, and your little act will be the
“Easier said than done.”
“She threw a kiss to you, didn't she?”
“Certainly, but, confound it, that was because she never expected to see
“Same reason why you threw a kiss to her, I suppose?”
“I know why; I wasn't accountable.”
“Well, if she did it any more wittingly than you did, she is accountable,
and I'd hunt her up and demand an explanation.”
Lorry laughed at his apparent fervor, but was glad that he had confided in
his energetic countryman. Two heads were better than one, and he was
forced to admit to himself that he rather liked the idea of company in the
undertaking. Not that he expected to encounter any particular difficulty,
but that he saw a strange loneliness ahead. Therefore he welcomed his
friend's avowed intention to accompany him to Edelweiss as a relief
instead of an annoyance. Until late in the night they discussed the coming
trip, Anguish finally startling him with a question, just as he was
stretching himself preparatory to the walk to his hotel.
“What are you going to do with her after you find her, Gren, old man?”
Grenfall's brow puckered and he brought himself up with a jerk, puzzled
uncertainty expressing itself in his posture as well as in his face.
“I'll think about that after I have found her,” he replied.
“Think you'll marry her?” persisted the other.
“How do I know?” exclaimed the woman hunter, savagely.
“Oh, of course you don't know—how could you?” apologized Anguish.
“Maybe she won't have you—maybe she is married—all sorts of
contingencies, you know. But, if you'll pardon my inquisitiveness, I'd
like to ask why you are making this wild goose chase half around the
world? just to have another look at her?”
“You asked me if I thought—” Here he stopped.
“I take it for granted, then, that you'd like to. Well, I'm glad that I've
got something definite on which to base operations. The one object of our
endeavors, from now on, is to exchange Guggenslocker for Lorry—certainly
no robbery. A charity, I should say. Good-night! See you in the morning.”
The next morning the two friends took a cab to several railway stations
and inquired about Graustark and Edelweiss.
“She was stringing you, old man,” said Anguish, after they had turned away
from the third station. He spoke commiseratingly, as he really felt sorry.
“No!” exclaimed Lorry. “She told me the truth. There is a Graustark and
she lives there. I'll stake my life on those eyes of hers.”
“Are you sure she said it was in Europe?” asked Harry, looking up and down
the street as if he would not have been surprised to see her in Paris. In
his heart he believed that she and her precious relatives had deceived old
Gren. Perhaps their home was in Paris, and nowhere else. But for Lorry's
positiveness he would have laughed heartily at the other's simple
credulity, or branded him a dolt, the victim of some merry actress's whim.
Still, he was forced to admit, he was not in a position to see matters as
they appeared, and was charitable enough to bide his time and to humor the
faith that was leading them from place to place in the effort to find a
land that they knew nothing about. Lorry seemed so sure, so positive, that
he was loath to see his dream dispelled, his ideal shattered. There was
certainly no Graustark; neither had the Guggenslockers sailed on the
Wilhelm, all apparent evidence to the contrary notwithstanding. Lorry had
been in a delirium and had imagined he saw her on the ship. If there, why
was not her name in the list? But that problem tortured the sanguine
At last, in despair, after a fruitless search of two days, Lorry was
willing to submit. With the perverseness common to half-defeated fighters,
Anguish at once protested, forgetting that he had sought to dissuade his
friend the day before.
“We'll go to the library of Paris and take a look through the books and
maps,” he said. “Or, better still, let us go to the post office. There!
Why have we not thought of that? What there is of Graustark they'll know
in the postal service.”
Together they visited the chief post office, where, after being directed
to various deputies and clerks, they at length found the department in
which the information was obtainable. Inside of five minutes they were in
possession of facts that vindicated Miss Guggenslocker, lifted Lorry to
the seventh heaven, and put Mr. Anguish into an agony of impatience.
Graustark was a small principality away off to the east, and Edelweiss was
a city of some seventy-five thousand inhabitants, according to the postal
The Americans could learn no more there, so they went to Baedecker's
office. Here they found a great map, and, after a diligent and almost
microscopic search, succeeded in discovering the principality of
Graustark. Then they looked at each other in dismay.
“It's a devil of a distance to that little red blot on the map,” mused
Lorry, pulling his nose reflectively. “What an outlandish place for a girl
like her to live in,” he continued. “And that sweet-faced old lady and
noble Uncle Caspar! Ye gods! one would think barbarians existed there and
not such people as the Guggenslockers, refined, cultivated smart, rich.
I'm more interested than ever in the place.”
“So am I! I'm willing and ready to make the trip, old man, if you are
still of a mind. It's a lark, and, besides, she may not be the only pretty
and gracious girl there. We've had hard work to find it on the map, let's
not stop till we see Edelweiss on the earth itself.”
They made hasty preparations for the journey. Anguish, romantic and full
of adventure, advised the purchase of a pair of pistols and a knife
apiece, maintaining that, as they were going into an unknown and
mountainous region, they should be prepared for brigands and other
elements of danger. Lorry pooh-poohed the suggestion of brigands, but
indulged his mood by buying some ugly-looking revolvers and inviting the
prospect of something really thrilling in the way of an adventure. With
their traps they were soon whirling through France, bound for a certain
great city, on the road to Edelweiss, one filled with excitement,
eagerness and boyish zeal, the other harrassed by the sombre fear that a
grave disappointment was in store for him. Through the glamour and the
picturesqueness of the adventure there always crept the unconquerable
feeling that he was on a fool's errand, that he was committing a deed so
weak and brainless that it was sure to make him a veritable laughing-stock
when it became known. After all, who was Miss Guggenslocker—brewer,
baker, gardener or sausage-maker.
Traveling, of course, was pleasant at this time of the year, and the two
Americans saw much that interested them along the way. Their French,
especially Anguish's, was of great value to them, for they found occasion
to use it at all times and in all places. Both spoke German fairly well,
and took every opportunity to brush up in that language, Lorry remembering
that the Guggenslockers used many expressions that showed a preference for
the Teutonic. The blithe Anguish, confident and in high feather, was heart
and soul in the odd expedition of love, and talked incessantly of their
reception by the far-away hostess, their impressions and the final result.
His camera and sketching materials were packed away with his traps. It was
his avowed intention to immortalize the trip by means of plate, palate and
At the end of two days they reached a certain large city,—the first
change, and then seven hundred miles to another. The distance from this
point to the capital of Graustark was two hundred miles or more, chiefly
through mountainous lands. Somewhat elated by the cheerful information
there received, they resumed the journey to Edelweiss, the city of vale,
slope and park,—summer, fall and winter. Changing cars at the end of
the second day out, they sat back in the dusty seats of their carriage and
sighed with relief.
“Unless we jump the track, this train will land us in the city we are
looking for,” said Anguish, stretching out his legs comfortably. “I'll
admit it has been a tiresome journey, and I'll be glad when we can step
into a decent hotel, have a rub, and feel like white men once more. I am
beginning to feel like these dirty Slavs and Huns we saw 'way back there.”
“There's one thing certain,” said Lorry, looking out of the window. “The
people and the habitations are different and the whole world seems changed
since we left that station. Look at those fellows on horseback over
“What did I tell you about brigands and robbers!” exclaimed Anguish. “If
those fellows are not bandits I'll lose faith in every novel I ever read.”
The train rolled slowly past three mounted men whose steeds stood like
statues upon a little knoll to the right of the track, men and beasts
engaged in silent contemplation of the cars. The men, picturesquely
attired and looking fierce, carrying long rifles, certainly bore an aspect
that suggested the brigand. When the guard entered the carriage Anguish
asked in German for some information concerning the riders.
“Dey're frontier police-guards,” responded the man in English, smiling at
their astonishment. Both Americans arose and shook hands with him.
“By George, it's good to hear a man talk white man's language,” cried
“How do you come to be holding a job on this road? An Englishman?”
demanded Lorry. He looked anything but English.
“I'm not an Englishman,” said the guard, flushing slightly. “My name's
Sitzky, and I'm an American, sir.”
“An American!” exclaimed Lorry. Sitzky grew loquacious.
“Sure! I used to be a sailor on a United States man-o'war. A couple of
years ago I got into trouble down at Constantinople and had to get out of
de service. After dat I drifted up dis way and went to railroadin'.” He
hadn't exactly the manner of a man-of-warsman.
“How long have you been on this road?” asked Grenfall.
“'Bout a year, I should t'ink. Been on dis branch only two months, dough.”
“Are you pretty well acquainted in Edelweiss?''
“Oh, I run in dere every other day—in an' out ag'in. It's a fine
place,—purtiest you ever saw in your life. The town runs right up
the mountain to the tip-top where the monks are—clear up in d'
clouds. Dey say it snows up dere almost all d' time.”
Later on, from the loquacious guard, the two Americans learned quite a
good bit about the country and city to which they were going. His
knowledge was somewhat limited along certain lines, but quite clear as to
“Dis Graustark, 's fer as I know, is eeder a sort o' state or somet'ing
belongin' to de Umpire, governed by it's own rulers. Edelweiss is de
capital, d' big guns of d' land lives dere. I've walked out and saw d'
castle where d' Princess and d' royalty hangs out. D' people speak a
language of deir own, and I can't get next to a t'ink dey say. But once in
a while you find some guy dat talks French or German. Dey've got a little
standin' army of two t'ree t'ousand men an' dey've got de hottest uniforms
you ever did see—red an' black an' gold. I don't see why d' United
Rates can't get up somethin' foxy fer her soldiers to wear. Had a war over
here not long ago, I understand—somethin' like ten or fifteen years
ago. Dere's another little country up north of Graustark, and dey got in a
wrangle 'bout somethin', and dey tell me in Edelweiss dat for 'bout a year
dey fought like Sam Patch.”
“Which was victorious?” demanded Lorry, deeply interested.
“I'm not sure. To hear d' Edelweiss people talk you'd t'ink dey licked d'
daylights out of d' other slobs, but somehow I got next to d' fact dat dem
other fellows captured de city an' went after a slashin' big war
indemnity. I don't know much 'bout it, an' maybe I'm clear off but I t'ink
d' Graustark army was trashed. Every t'ing is prosperous now, dough, an'
you'd never know dere'd been a war. It's d'most peaceable town I ever
“Did you ever hear of the Guggenslockers?” asked the irrepressible
Anguish, and Lorry felt like kicking him.
“In Edelweiss? Never did. Friends of yours?”
“Acquaintances,” interposed Lorry, hastily, frowning at Anguish.
“You won't have any trouble findin' 'em if dere anybody at all,” said
Sitzky, easily. “D' hotel people ought to be able to tell you all 'bout
“By the way, what is the best hotel there?” asked Anguish.
“Dere's d' Burnowentz, one block north of d' depot.” The travelers looked
at one another and smiled, Sitzky observing the action. “Oh,” he said,
pleasantly, “dere's a swell joint uptown called d' Regengetz. It's too
steep fer me, but maybe you gents can stand it. It you'll hang around d'
depot fer a little while after we get in I'll steer you up dere.”
“We'll make it worth your while, Sitzky,” said Lorry.
“Never mind dat, now. Americans ought to stick together, no matter where
dey are. We'll have a drink an' 'at's all, just to show we're fellow
“We'll have several drinks, and we'll eat and drink tonight at the 'swell
joint' you talk about,” said Anguish.
“We may drink dere, but I'll not eat dere. Dey wouldn't let a railroad
guard inside de feedin' pen. Why, nothin' but royal guys eat dere when
dey're down town shoppin' or exposin' demselves to public gaze.”
True to his word, when they reached Edelweiss late that afternoon Sitzky,
their friend of uncertain origin, hurriedly finished his work and joined
the travelers in the station. Lorry and Anguish were deeply interested in
all they saw, the strange people, the queer buildings, the odd costumes
and the air of antiquity that prevailed. Once upon the narrow, clean
street they saw that Edelweiss was truly a city of the mountain-side. They
had expected something wonderful, but were not prepared for what they
found. The city actually ran up into the clouds. There was something so
grand, so improbable, so unusual in the spectacle confronting them that
they stared like children, aghast and stupefied. Each had the startling
impression that a great human-dotted mountain was falling over upon his
head; it was impossible to subdue the sensation of dizziness that the
toppling town inspired.
“I know how you feel,” observed Sitzky, laughing. “I was just d' same at
first. Tomorrow you walk a little ways up d' side of d' mountain an'
you'll see how much of d' city dere is on level ground down here. Dem
buildings up dere ain't more'n one-fiftieth part of d'town. Dey're mostly
summer homes. It gets hot as blazes down here in d' valley in d' middle of
d' summer and d' rich ones move up d' mountain.”
“How in thunder do people get up to those houses?” demanded Anguish.
“Mules,” answered Sitzky, specifically. “Say! See dat little old feller
comin' on horseback—wid d' white uniform? Well, dat's de chief of
police, an' d' fellers behind him are police guards. 'At's old Dangloss
himself. He's a peach, dey say.”
A short, grizzly-faced man, attired in a white uniform with red trimmings,
followed by three men similarly garbed, rode by, going in the direction of
the passenger station. Dangloss, as Sitzky had called him, was quite small
in stature, rather stout, gray-bearded and eagle-nosed. His face was keen
and red, and not at all the kind to invite familiarity. As he passed them
the railroad guard of American citizenship touched his cap and the two
travelers bowed, whereupon the chief of police gave them a most profound
salutation, fairly sweeping his saddleskirts with his white cap.
“Polite old codger,” observed Anguish.
“His company manners. Just let him get you in d' sweatbox, if you t'ink
“Ever been there?”
“Well,” a little confusedly, “I pasted a Graustark baggage-smasher down in
d' yards two weeks ago, an' dey had me up. I proved d' feller insulted a
lady, an' old Dangloss let me off, sayin' I'd ought to have a medal. Dese
guys are great on gallantry when ladies is concerned. If it hadn't been
fer dat, I'd be in d' lock-up now. An' say, you ought to see d' lock-up!
It's a tower, wid dungeons an' all dat sort of t'ing. A man couldn't no
more get out 'n' he could fly up to d' monastery. Dey're great on law an'
order here, too. D' Princess has issued strictest kind of rules an'
everybody has to live up to 'em like as if dey was real gospel. I t'ought
I'd put you next, gents, so's you wouldn't be doin' anyt'ing crooked
“Thanks,” said Lorry, drily. “We shall try to conduct ourselves discreetly
in the city.”
Probably a quarter mile farther down the narrow, level street they came to
the bazaars, the gaudy stores, and then the hotel. It was truly a hostelry
to inspire respect and admiration in the mind of such as Sitzky, for it
was huge and well equipped with the modern appointments. As soon as the
two Americans had been given their rooms, they sent for their luggage.
Then they went out to the broad piazza, with its columns and marble
balustrades, and looked for Sitzky, remembering their invitation to drink.
The guard had refused to enter the hotel with them, urging them to allow
him to remain on the piazza. He was not there when they returned, but they
soon saw him. On the sidewalk he was arguing with a white-uniformed police
guard, and they realized that he had been ejected from sacred precincts.
They promptly rescued him from the officer, who bowed and strode away as
soon as they interceded.
“Dese fellers is slick enough to see you are swells and I'm not,” said
Sitzky, not a bit annoyed by his encounter. “I'll bet my head 'at inside
ten minutes old Dangloss will know who you are, where you come from an'
what you're doin' here.”
“I'll bet fifty heads he won't find out what we're doing here,” grinned
Anguish, looking at Lorry. “Well, let's hunt up the thirst department.”
They found the little apartment in which drinks were served at tables, and
before they said good-by to Sitzky in front of the hotel, a half hour
later, that worthy was in exceeding good humor and very much flushed in
the face. He said he would be back in two days, and if they needed him for
any purpose whatever, they could reach him by a note at the railway
“Funny how you run across an American in every nook and corner of the
world,” mused Lorry, as they watched the stocky ex-man-o'warsman stroll
off towards his hotel.
“If we can run across the Guggenslockers as easily, we'll be in luck. When
shall we begin the hunt? Tonight?”
“We can make a few inquiries concerning them. They certainly are people of
“I don't see the name on any of the brewery signs around town,” observed
Anguish, consolingly. “There's evidently no Guggenslocker here.”
They strolled through the streets near the hotel until after six o'clock,
wondering at the quaint architecture, the pretty gardens and the pastoral
atmosphere that enveloped the city. Everybody was busy, contented, quiet
and happy. There was no bustle or strife, no rush, no beggars. At six they
saw hundreds of workingmen on the streets, going to their homes; shops
were closed and there came to their ears the distant boom of cannon,
evidently fired from different points of the compass and from the highland
as well as the lowland.
“The toy army is shooting off the good-night guns,” speculated Anguish. “I
suppose everybody goes to bed now.
“Or to dinner,” substituted Lorry, and they returned to the Regengetx. The
dining hall was spacious and beautiful, a mixture of the oriental and the
mediaeval. It rapidly filled.
“Who the dickens can all these people be? They look well,” Anguish
whispered, as if he feared their nearest neighbors might understand his
“They are unquestionably of the class in which we must expect to find the
Before the meal was over the two strangers saw that they were attracting a
great deal of attention from the other guests of the house. The women, as
well as the men, were eyeing them and commenting quite freely, it was easy
to see. These two handsome, smooth-faced young Americans were as men from
another world, so utterly unlike their companions were they in personal
appearance. They were taller, broader and more powerfully built than the
swarthy-faced men about them, and it was no wonder that the women allowed
admiration to show in their eyes. Toward the end of the dinner several
officers came in, and the Americans took particular pains to study them.
They were cleanly-built fellows, about medium height, wiry and active. As
a class, the men appeared to average five feet seven inches in height,
some a little taller, some a little shorter. The two strangers were over
six feet tall, broad-shouldered and athletic. They looked like giants
among these Graustark men.
“They're not very big, but they look as if they'd be nasty in a scrap,”
observed Anguish, unconsciously throwing out his chest.
“Strong as wildcats, I'll wager. The women are perfect, though. Have you
ever seen a smarter set of women, Harry?”
“Never, never! A paradise of pretty women. I believe I'll take out
When the two strangers left the dining-room they were conscious that every
eye in the place was upon them. They drew themselves to their full height
and strode between the tables toward the door, feeling that as they were
on exhibition they ought to appear to the best advantage. During the
evening they heard frequent allusions to “the Americans,” but could not
understand what was said. The hotel men were more than obsequious; the
military men and citizens were exceedingly deferential; the women who
strolled on the piazza or in the great garden back of the hotel were
“We seem to be the whole show here, Gren,” said Anguish, as they sat down
at one of the tables in the garden.
“I guess Americans are rare.”
“I've found one fellow who can speak German and French, and not one,
except our guard who can talk English. That clerk talks German fairly
well. I never heard such a language as these other people use. Say, old
man, we'd better make inquiry about our friends to-night. That clerk
probably won't be on duty to-morrow.”
“We'll ask him before we go to bed,” agreed Lorry, and upon leaving the
brilliantly lighted garden they sought the landlord and asked if he could
tell them where Caspar Guggenslocker lived. He looked politely incredulous
and thoughtful, and then, with profound regret, assured them he had never
heard the name. He said he had lived in Edelweiss all his life, and knew
everybody of consequence in the town.
“Surely there must be such people here,” cried Lorry, almost appealingly.
He felt disheartened and cheated. Anguish was biting his lips.
“Oh, possibly among the poorer classes. If I were you, sir, I should call
on Captain Dangloss, the Chief of Police. He knows every soul in
Edelweiss. I am positive I have never heard the name. You will find the
Captain at the Tower to-morrow morning.”
The two Americans went to bed, one so dismayed by his disappointment that
he could not sleep for hours.