“A ‘salvo’ did you say, cavalier?”

“For our wedding, Marc’antonio.”  I took the Princess’s hand—­which neither yielded nor resisted—­and lifting it a little way, released it to fall again limply.  So for a while there was silence between us four.

“Marc’antonio,” said I, “and you, Stephanu—­it is I now who speak for the Princess and decide for her; and I decide that you, who have served her faithfully, deserve to be told all the truth.  It is truth, then, that we are married.  The priest who married us was Fra Domenico, and with assent of his master the Prince Camillo.  I can give you, moreover, the name of the chief witness:  he is a certain Signor or General Andrea Fornari, and commands the Genoese garrison in Nonza.”

“Princess!” Marc’antonio implored her.

“It is true,” said she.  “This gentleman has done me much honour, having heard what my brother chose to say.”

“But I do not comprehend!” The honest fellow cast a wild look around the clearing.  “Ah, yes-the volley!  They have taken the Prince, and shot him . . .  But his body—­they would not take his body—­and you standing here and allowing it—­”

“My friends,” I interrupted, “they have certainly taken his body, and his soul too, for that matter; and I doubt if you can overtake either on this side of Nonza.  But with him you will find the crown of Corsica, and the priest who helped him to sell it.  I tell you this, who are clansmen of the Colonne.  Your mistress, who discovered the plot and was here to hinder it, will confirm me.”

Their eyes questioned her; not for long.  In the droop of her bowed head was confirmation.

“And therefore,” I went on, “you two can have no better business than to help me convey the Princess northward and bring her to her mother, whom in this futile following after a wretched boy you have all so strangely forgotten.  By God!” said I, “there is but one man in Corsica who has hunted, this while, on a true scent and held to it; and he is an Englishman, solitary and faithful at this moment upon Cape Corso!”

“Your pardon, cavalier,” answered Marc’antonio after a slow pause.  “What you say is just, in part, and I am not denying it.  But so we saw not our duty, since the Queen Emilia bade us follow her son.  With him we have hunted (as you tell us) too long and upon a false scent.  Be it so:  but, since this has befallen, we must follow on the chase a little farther.  For you, you have now the right to protect our well-beloved; not only to the end of Cape Corso, but to the end of the world.  But for us, who are two men used to obey, the Princess your wife must suffer us to disobey her now for the first time.  The road to the Cape, avoiding Nonza, is rough and steep and must be travelled afoot; yet I think you twain can accomplish it.  At the Cape, if God will, we will meet you and stand again at your service.  But we travel by another road—­the road which does not avoid Nonza.”