He dashed into the ballroom and shouted the alarm. Confusion ensued. He called out sharp commands as he rushed across to where Deppingham was chatting with the Princess.

"There's been treachery," he explained quickly. "Some one has released the prisoners. We must keep them from reaching the walls. They will overpower our guards and open the gates to the enemy. Britt, see that the searchlight is trained on the gates. We must stop those fellows before it is too late. Time enough to hunt for the traitor later on!"

Two minutes later, a swarm of armed men forsook the mock charity ball and sallied forth to engage in realities. Firing was soon heard at the western gate, half a mile away. Thither, the eager pursuers rushed. The wide ray from the searchlight swung down upon this gate and revealed the forms of struggling men.

The prisoners had fallen suddenly upon the two Greeks who guarded the western gate, surprising them cleverly. The Greeks fought for their lives, but were overwhelmed in plain view of the relief party which raced toward them. Both fell under the clubbed guns of their adversaries.

Chase and Selim were not more than a hundred yards away when the desperate Greeks went down. The blinding glare of the searchlight aided the pursuers, who kept outside its radius. The fugitives, bewildered, confused by the bright glare in which they found themselves, faced the light boldly, five of them kneeling with guns raised to protect their two companions who started across the narrow strip which separated them from the ma.s.sive gate. Selim gave a shout and stopped suddenly, throwing his rifle to his shoulder.

"They have the keys!" he cried. "Shoot!"

His rifle cracked a second later and one of the two men leaped into the air and fell like a log. Chase understood the necessity for quick work and fired an instant later. The second man fell in a heap, thirty feet from the gate. His companions returned the fire at random in the direction from which the well-aimed shots had come.

"Under cover!" shouted Chase. He and Selim dropped into the shrubbery in time to escape a withering fire from outside the gates. The searchlight revealed a compact ma.s.s of men beyond the walls. It was then that the insiders realised how near they had come to being surprised and destroyed. A minute more, and the gates would have been opened to this merciless horde.

The prisoners, finding themselves trapped, threw themselves upon the ground and shrieked for mercy. Lord Deppingham and the others came up and, scattering well, began to fire at the ma.s.s outside the wall. The islanders were at a disadvantage. They could not locate the opposing marksmen on account of the blinding light in their faces. It was but a moment before they were scampering off into the dark wood, shrieking with rage.

The five fugitives were compelled to carry their fallen comrades and the two Greeks from the open s.p.a.ce in front of the gates to a point where it was safe for the defenders to approach them without coming in line with a possible volley from the forest.

A small force was left to guard the gate; the remainder returned as quickly as possible to the chateau. The Greeks were unconscious, badly battered by the clubbed guns. Browne, once more the doctor, attended them and announced that they would be on their feet in a day or two--"if complications don't set in." One of the prisoners was dead, shot through the heart by the deadly Selim. The other had a shattered shoulder.

Immediately upon the return to the chateau, an inspection of the dungeons was made, prior to an examination of the servants in the effort to apprehend the traitor.

The three men who went down into the damp, chill regions below ground soon returned with set, pale faces. There had been no traitor!

The man whose duty it was to guard the prisoners was found lying inside the big cell, his throat cut from ear to ear, stone dead!

There was but one solution. He had been seized from within as he came to the grating in response to a call. While certain fingers choked him into silence, others held his hands and still others wrenched the keys from his sash. After that it was easy. Deppingham, Chase and Selim looked at each other in horror--and, strange as it may seem, relief.

Death was there, but, after all, Death is no traitor.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE JOY OF TEMPTATION

The revolting details were kept from the women. They were not permitted to know of the ugly thing that sweltered in the dark corridor below their very feet. Late in the night, a small body of men, acting under orders, carried the unfortunate guard down into the valley and buried him. Only the most positive stand on the part of the white men prevented the ma.s.sacre of the prisoners by the friends and fellow-servants of the murdered man. A secret trial by jury, at a later day, was promised by Lord Deppingham.

There was but little sleep in the chateau that night. The charity ball was forgotten--or if recalled at all, only in connection with the thought of what it came so near to costing its promoters.

No further disturbances occurred. A strict watch was preserved; the picturesque drawbridge was lifted and there were lights on the terrace and galleries; men slept within easy reach of their weapons. The siege had begun in earnest. Men had been slain and their blood was crying out for vengeance; the voice of justice was lost in the clamourings of rage.

Breakfast found no laggards; the lazy comforts of the habitually late were abandoned for the more stirring interests that had come to occupy the time and thoughts of all concerned. The Princess was quite serene.

She lightly announced that the present state of affairs was no worse than that which she was accustomed to at home. The court of Rapp-Thorberg was ever in a state of unrest, despite its outward suggestion of security. Outbreaks were common among the ma.s.ses; somehow, they were suppressed before they grew large enough to be noticed by the wide world.

"We invariably come out on top," she philosophised, "and so shall we here. At home we always eat, drink and make merry, for to-morrow never comes."

"That's all very nice," said Lady Agnes plaintively, "but I'm thinking of yesterday. Those fellows who were killed can't die to-morrow, you know; it occurred to them yesterday. It's always yesterday after one dies."

Soon after breakfast was over, Chase announced his intention to visit each of the gates in turn. The Princess strolled with him as far as the bridge at the foot of the terrace. They stopped in the shade of a clump of trees that hung upon the edge of the stream. As they were gravely discussing the events of the night, Neenah came up to them from beyond the bridge. Her dark, brilliant face was glowing with excitement; the cheerful adoration that one sees in a dog's eyes shone in hers as she salaamed gracefully to the "Sahib." She had no eyes for royalty.

"Excellency," she began breathlessly, "it is Selim who would have private speech with the most gracious sahib. It is to be quick, excellency. Selim is under the ground, excellency."

"In the cellars?"

"Yes, excellency. It is so dark there that one cannot see, but Neenah will lead you. Selim has sent me. But come now!"

Chase felt his ears burn when he turned to find a delicate, significant smile on Genevra's lips. "Don't let me detain you," she said, ever so politely.

"Wait, please!" he exclaimed. "Is Selim hurt?" he demanded of Neenah, who shook her head vigorously.

"Then, there is no reason why you should not accompany us. Princess."

"I am not at all necessary to the undertaking," she said coldly, turning to leave him.

"Selim has found fuses and gunpowder laid in the cellars, excellency--in the secret vaults," began Neenah eagerly, divining the cause of the white lady's hesitation.

This astounding piece of news swept away the feeble barrier Genevra would have erected in her pique. Eagerly she joined in questioning the Persian girl, but Neenah would only reply that Selim was waiting for the sahib. The Princess was immeasurably consoled to find that the body-servant had destroyed the fuses and that they were in no immediate danger of being blown to pieces. She consented to accompany Chase into the cellars, a spirit of adventure overcoming certain scruples which might have restrained her under other conditions.

Neenah led them through the wine cellars and down into the vaults beyond the dungeons. They descended three steep flights of stone steps, into the cold, damp corridors of the lowermost cellars. Neenah explained that it was necessary to move cautiously and without lights. Selim was confident that there was at least one traitor among the servants. The Princess clutched Chase's hand tightly as they stole through the bleak, chill corridor; she found herself wondering if the girl was to be trusted. What if she were leading them into a trap? She would have whispered her fears into Chase's ear had not a sharp "sh!" come from the girl who was leading. Genevra felt a queer little throb of hatred for the girl--she could not explain it.

The dungeon was off to the right. They could hear the insistent murmur of voices, with now and then a laugh from the distant cells. The guard could be heard scoffing at his charges. With a caution that seemed wholly absurd to the two white people, Neenah guided them through the maze of narrow pa.s.sages, dark as Erebus and chill as the grave. Chase checked a hysterical impulse to laugh aloud at the proceedings; it was like playing at a children's game.

He was walking between the two women, Neenah ahead, Genevra behind; each clasped one of his hands. Suddenly he found himself experiencing an overpowering desire to exert the strength of his arm to draw the Princess close--close to his insistent body. The touch of her flesh, the clutch of her cold little hand, filled him with the most exquisite sense of possession; the magnetism of life charged from one to the other, striking fire to the blood; s.e.x tingled in this delicious riot of the senses; all went to inspire and encourage the reckless joy that was mastering him. He felt his arm grow taut with the irresistible impulse.

He was forgetting Neenah, forgetting himself--thinking only of the opportunity and its fascination. In another instant he would have drawn her hand to his lips: Neenah came to a standstill and uttered a warning whisper. Chase recovered himself with a mighty start, a chill as of one avoiding an unseen peril sweeping over him. Genevra heard the sharp, painful intake of his breath and felt the sudden relaxation of his fingers. She was not puzzled; she, too, had felt the magic of the touch and her blood was surging red; she knew, then, that she had been clasping his hand with a fervour that was as unmistakable as it was shameless.

She was again forgetting that princesses should dwell in the narrow realm of self.

Neenah may have felt the magnetic current that coursed through these surcharged creatures: she was smiling mysteriously to herself.

"Wait here," she whispered to Chase, ever so softly. She released his hand and moved off in the blackness of the pa.s.sage. "I will bring Selim," came back to them.

"Oh!" fell faintly, tremulously from Genevra's lips. It was a trap, after all! But it was not the trap laid by a traitor. She fell all a-quiver. Her heart fluttered violently, her breath came quickly. Alone with him--and their blood leaping to the touch that thrilled!

Chase could no more have restrained the hand that went out suddenly in quest of hers than he could have checked his own heart throbs. A wave of exquisite joy swept over him--the joy of a temptation that knew no fear or conscience. He found her cold little hand and clasped it in tense fingers--fingers that throbbed with the call to pa.s.sion. He drew her close--their bodies touched and sweetly trembled. His lips were close to her ear--the smell of her hair was in his quivering nostrils. He heard her quick, sharp breathing.

"Are you afraid?" he whispered in tones he had never heard before.

"Yes," she murmured convulsively--"of you! Please, please, don't!" At the same time, she tightened her clutch upon his hand and crept closer to him, governed by an unconquerable craving. Chase had the sensation of smothering; he could not believe the senses which told him that she was responding to his appeal. His brain was whirling, his heart bounding like mad. Her voice, soft and appealing, turned his blood to fire.

"Genevra!" he murmured--almost gasped--in his delirium. Their bodies were pressed close to each other--his arms went about her slender figure suddenly and she was strained to his breast, locked to him with bonds that seemed unbreakable. Her face was lifted to his. The blackness of the pa.s.sage was impenetrable, but love was the guide. He found her lips in one wild, glorious kiss.

A door creaked sharply. He released her. Their quivering arms fell away; they drew ever so slightly apart, still under the control of the influence which had held them for that brief moment. She was trembling violently. A soft, wailing sigh, as of pain, came from her lips.

Then the glimmer of a light came to them through the half open door at the end of the pa.s.sage. They gazed at it without comprehension, dumb in their sudden weakness. A shadowy figure came out through the door and Selim's voice, low and tense, called to them.