“If you utter a sound, madam, I shall kill you.  Be calm, and allow me to explain. my presence here!”

He expected her to shriek, forgetting that she might not understand his words.  Instead there was a deathly silence.  Had she swooned?  His heart was leaping with hope.  But she spoke softly again, tremulously, and in English: 

“You will find my jewels on the dressing table.  Take them and go You will not hurt me?”

“I am not here to do you injury, but to serve your Princess, “whispered the man.  “For God’s sake, do not make an outcry.  You will ruin everything.  Will you let me explain?”

“Go!  Go!  Take anything!  I can be calm no longer.  Oh, how can I expect mercy at your hands!” Her tones were rising to a wail of terror.

“Sh!  Do you want to die?” he hissed, striding to the canopy bed, discernible as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness.  “I will kill you if you utter a sound, so help me God!”

“Oh!” she moaned.

“Listen!  You must aid me!  Do you hear?”

Another heart-breaking moan.  “I am here to save the Princess.  There is a plot to abduct her to-night.  Already there are men in the castle, perhaps in her room.  You must tell me where she sleeps.  There is no time to be lost.  I am no thief, before God!  I am telling you the truth.  Do not be alarmed, I implore you.  Trust me, madam, and you will not regret it.  Where does the Princess sleep?” He jerked out these eager, pleading words quickly, breathlessly.

“How am I to trust you?” came back a whisper from the bed.

“Here is a revolver!  Take it and kill me if I attempt the slightest injury.  Where are you?” He felt along the bed with his hand.

“Keep away!  Please!  Please!” she sobbed.

“Take the pistol!  Be calm, and in heaven’s name help me to save her.  Those wretches may have killed her already!”

The revolver dropped upon the clothes.  He was bending eagerly over, holding the curtains back.

“My friend is in the hall.  We have traced the men to the Princess’s door, I think.  My God, be quick!  Do you wish to see her stolen from under your eyes?”

“You are now in the Princess’s room,” answered the voice from the bed, calmer and with some alacrity.  “Is this true that you tell me?”

“As God is my witness!  And you—­you—­are you the Princess?” gasped the man, drawing back.

“I am.  Where is Dannox?” She was sitting bolt upright in the bed, the pistol in her trembling fingers.

“He is one of the conspirators.  One of the cooks and two other guards are in the plot.  Can you trust me enough to leave your bed and hide in another part of the room?  The scoundrels have mistaken the door, but they may be here at any moment.  You must be quick!  I will protect you—­I swear it!  Come, your Highness!  Hide!”

Something in the fierce, anxious whisper gave her confidence.  The miracle had been wrought!  He had composed this woman under the most trying circumstances that could have teen imagined.  She slipped from the bed and threw a long, loose silken gown about her.