“He shall know everything when the proper time comes.  And now, will you be ready at the hour mentioned.  You have but to follow the instructions—­I should say, the commands of the writer.”

“And be free!  Tell her that I worship her for this.  Tell her that every drop of blood in my body belongs to her.  She offers me freedom, but makes me her slave for life.  Yes, I shall be ready.  If I do not see you again, good friends, remember that I love you because you love her and because she loves you enough to entrust a most dangerous secret to your keeping,—­the commission of an act that may mean the downfall of your nation.”  He shook hands with them fervently.

“It cannot be that, sir.  It may cost the lives of three of her subjects, but no man save yourself can involve the Princess or the Crown.  They may kill us, but they cannot force us to betray her.  I trust you will be as loyal to the good girl who wears a crown, not upon her heart,” said Dangloss, earnestly.

“I have said my life is hers, gentlemen,” said Lorry, simply.  “God, if I could but throw myself at her feet!  I must see her before I go.  I will not go without telling her what is in my heart!” he added, passionately.

“You must obey the commands implicitly, on your word of honor, or the transaction ends now,” said Quinnox, firmly.

“This escape means, then, that I am not to see her again,” he said, his voice choking with emotion.

“Her instructions are that you are to go tonight, at once,” said Dangloss, and the black-eyed soldier nodded confirmation.

The prisoner paced the floor of his cell, his mind a jumble of conflicting emotions.  His clenched hands, twitching lips and half-closed eyes betrayed the battle that was inflicting him with its carnage.  Suddenly he darted to the door, crying: 

“Then I refuse to obey!  Tell her that if she permits me to leave this hole I shall be at her feet before another night has passed.  Say to her that I refuse to go from Graustark until I have seen her and talked with her.  You, Quinnox, go to her now and tell her this, and say to her also that there is something she must hear from my own lips.  Then I will leave Graustark and not till then, even though death be the alternative.”  The two men stared at him in amazement and consternation.

“You will not escape?” gasped Quinnox.

“I will not be dragged away without seeing her,” he answered, resolutely, throwing himself on the bed.

“Damned young ass!” growled Dangloss.  The soldier’s teeth grated.  A moment later the slab door closed softly, a key rattled, and his visitors were gone—­messengers bearing to him the most positive proof of devotion that man could exact.  What had she offered to do for his sake?  She had planned his escape, had sanctioned the commission of an unparalleled outrage against the laws of her land—­she, of all women, a Princess!  But she also had sought to banish him from the shrine at which his very soul worshiped, a fate more cruel and unendurable than the one she would have saved him from.