“Captain Quinnox brings a private message from the Princess,” said the Chief, the words scarcely more than whispered.  It was plain that the message was important and of a secret nature.  Quinnox looked up and down the corridor and stairway before thrusting the tiny note through the bars.  It was grasped eagerly and trembling fingers broke the seal.  Bending near the light he read the lines, his vision blurred, his heart throbbing so fiercely that the blood seemed to be drowning out other sounds for all time to come.  In the dim corridor stood the two men, watching him with bated breath and guilty, quaking nerves.

“Oh!” gasped Lorry, kissing the missive insanely as his greedy eyes careened through the last line.  There was no signature, but in every word he saw her face, felt the touch of her dear hand, heard her timid heart beating for him-for him alone.  Rapture thrilled him from head to foot, the delirious rapture of love.  He could not speak, so overpowering was the joy, the surprise, the awakening.

“Obey!” whispered Quinnox, his face aglow with pleasure, his finger quivering as he pointed commandingly toward the letter.

“Obey what!” asked Lorry, dully.

“The last line!”

He hastily reread the last line and then deliberately held the precious missive over the lamp until it ignited.  He would have given all he possessed to have preserved it.  But the last line commanded:  “Burn this at once and in the presence of the bearer.”

“There!” he said, regretfully, as he crumpled the charred remnants between his fingers and turned to the silent watchers.

“Her crime goes up in smoke,” muttered Dangloss, sententiously.

“The Princess commits no crime,” retorted Quinnox, angrily, “when she trusts four honest men.”

“Where is she?” whispered the prisoner, with thrumming ears.

“Where all good women should be at nine o’clock—­in bed,” replied Dangloss, shortly.  “But will you obey her command?”

“So she commands me to escape!” said Lorry, smiling.  “I dare not disobey my sovereign, I suppose.”

“We obey her because we love her,” said the captain of the guard.

“And for that reason, I also obey.  But can this thing be accomplished without necessitating explanations and possible complications?  I will not obey if it is likely to place her in an embarrassing position.”

“She understands perfectly what she is doing, sir.  In the first place, she has had my advice,” said Dangloss, the good old betrayer of an official trust.

“You advised her to command you to allow me to escape?”

“She commanded first, and then I advised her how to command you.  Axphain may declare war a thousand times over, but you will be safe.  That’s all we—­I mean, all she wants.”

“But I cannot desert my friend.  How is he to know where I’ve gone?  Will not vengeance fall on him instead?”