“I am here as a prisoner,” said Lorry, boldly.  Gabriel laughed derisively.

“And how often have you come here in this manner as a prisoner?  Midnight and alone in the apartments of the Princess!  The guard dismissed!  A prisoner, eh?  Ha, what—­a prison!”

“Stop!” cried Lorry, white to the lips.

The Princess was beginning to understand.

Her eyes grew wide with horror, her figure straightened imperiously and the white in her cheeks gave way to the red of insulted virtue.

“I see it all!  You have not been outside this castle since you left the prison.  A pretty scheme!  You could not marry him, could you, eh?  He is not a prince!  But you could bring him here and hide him where no one would dare to think of looking for him —­in your apartments!”

With a snarl of rage Lorry sprang upon him, cutting short the sentence that would have gone through her like the keenest knife-blade.

“Liar!  Dog!  I’ll kill you for that!” he cried, but, before he could clutch the Prince’s throat, Yetive had frantically seized his arm.

“Not that!” she shrieked.  “Do not kill him!  There must be no murder here!”

He reluctantly hurled Gabriel from him, the Prince tottering to his knees in the effort to keep from falling.  She had saved her maligner’s life, but courage deserted her with the act.  Helplessly she looked into the blazing eyes of her lover and faltered: 

“I—­I do not know what to say or do.  My brain is bursting!”

“Courage, courage!” he whispered, gently.

You shall pay for this,” shrieked Gabriel.  “If you are not a prisoner you shall be.  There’ll be scandal enough in Graustark to-morrow to start a volcano of wrath from the royal tombs where lie her fathers.  I’ll see that you are a prisoner!” He started for the door, but Lorry’s pistol was leveled at his head.

“If you move I’ll kill you!”

“The world will understand how and why I fell by your hand and in this room.  Shoot!” he cried, triumphantly.  Lorry’s hand trembled and his eyes filled with the tears of impotent rage.  The Prince held the higher card.

A face suddenly appeared at the door, which had been stealthily opened from without.  Captain Quinnox glided into the room behind the Prince and gently closed the door, unnoticed by the gloater.

“A prisoner?” sneered Gabriel.  “Where is your captor, pray?”

“Here!” answered a voice at his back.  The Prince wheeled and found himself looking at the stalwart form of the captain of the guard.  “I am surely privileged to speak now, your Highness,” he went on, addressing the Princess significantly.

“How came you here?” gasped Gabriel.

“I brought my prisoner here.  Where should I be if not here to guard him?”

“When—­when did you enter this room?”

“An hour ago.”

“You were not here when I came!”