The Princess shot a startled look toward the speaker as a new thought entered her wearied brain; a short, involuntary gasp told that it had lodged and would grow.  She laughed at the idea of an escape from the Tower, but as she laughed a tiny spot of red began to spread upon her cheek, and her eyes glistened strangely.

Anguish remained with them for half an hour.  When he left the castle it was with a more hopeful feeling in his breast.  In the Princess’s bed-chamber late that night, two girls, in loose, silken gowns sat before a low fire and talked of something that caused the Countess to tremble with excitement when first her pink-cheeked sovereign mentioned it in confidence.

XVIII

THE FLIGHT AT MIDNIGHT

Lorry’s cell was as comfortable as a cell could be made through the efforts of a kindly jailer and a sympathetic chief of police.  It was not located in the dungeon, but high in the tower, a little rock-bound room, with a single barred window far above the floor.  There was a bed of iron upon which had been placed a clean mattress, and there was a little chair.  The next day after his arrest a comfortable arm chair replaced the latter; a table, a lamp, some books, flowers, a bottle of wine and some fruit found their way to his lonely apartment—­whoever may have sent them.  Harry Anguish was admitted to the cell during the afternoon.  He promptly and truthfully denied all interest in the donations, but smiled wisely.

He reported that most of the Axphain contingent was still in town; a portion had hurried home, carrying the news to the old Prince, instructed by the aggressive Mizrox to fetch him forthwith to Edelweiss, where his august presence was necessary before the twenty-sixth.  Those who remained in the Graustark capital were quiet but still in a threatening mood.  The Princess, so Harry informed the prisoner, sent sincere expressions of sympathy and the hope that all would end well with him.  Count Halfont, the Countess, Gaspon and many others had asked to be remembered.  The prisoner smiled wearily and promised that they should not be forgotten in a week—­which was as far as he expected his memory to extend.

Late in the evening, as he was lying on his bed, staring at the shadowy ceiling and puzzling his brain with most oppressive uncertainties, the rattle of keys in the lock announced the approach of visitors.  The door swung open and through the grate he saw Dangloss and Quinnox.  The latter wore a long military rain coat and had just come in from a drenching downpour.  Lorry’s reverie had been so deep that he had not heard the thunder nor the howling of the winds.  Springing to his feet he advanced quickly to the grated door.