"You have been here so long," she explained quickly. "And tied all these days." She was tugging at the knot.

"Only since I gave that pleasant punch to Peter Brutus."

"That shows what you can do," she whispered warmly. "Oh, I wonder! I wonder if we have a chance! Anyway, your arms will be free. I shall feel safer if your arms are free."

He sat with his back to her while she struggled with the stubborn knots.

A delicious thrill of pleasure swept over him. She had said she would feel safer if his arms were free! She was struggling, with many a tense straining of delicate fingers, to undo the bonds which held him helpless. The touch of her eager fingers, the closeness of her body, the warmth of her breathing--he was beginning to hope that the effort might be prolonged interminably.

At last, after many despairing tugs, the knot relaxed. "There!" she cried, sinking back exhausted. "Oh, how it must have hurt you! Your wrists are raw!"

He suppressed the tactless impulse to say that he preferred a rope on the wrists to one about his neck, realising that the jest could only shock and not amuse her under the present conditions.

His arms were stiff and sore and hung like lead at his sides. She watched him, with narrowed eyes, while he stood off and tried to work blood and strength back into his muscles.

"Do you think you can--can do anything now, Mr. King?" she asked, after a long interval.

He would not tell her how helpless he was, even with his hands free. So he smiled bravely and sought to rea.s.sure her with the most imposing boasts he could utter. She began to breathe easier; the light in her eyes grew brighter, more hopeful.

"We must escape," she said, as if it were all settled.

"It cannot be to-night," he gently informed her, a sickness attacking her heart. "Don't you think you'd better try to get some sleep?"

He prevailed upon her to lie down, with his coat for a pillow. In two minutes she was asleep.

For an hour or more he sat there, looking sorrowfully at the tired, sweet face, the utmost despair in his soul. At last he stretched himself out on the floor, near the door, and as he went to sleep he prayed that Providence might open a way for him to prove that she was not depending on him in vain.

CHAPTER XIII

A DIVINITY SHAPES

It was pitch dark when he awoke.

"By heaven, it was a dream, after all," he murmured. "Well, thank G.o.d for that. She isn't in this d.a.m.nable hole. And," with a quickening of the blood, "she hasn't said she was going to marry Vos Engo."

The sound of light breathing came to his ears. He sat up. His hands were free. It had not been a dream. She _was_ lying over there asleep. The candle had burnt itself out, that was all. He crept softly across the floor; in the darkness he found her, and touched the garments she wore--and drew back enthralled. A strange joy filled him; she was his for the time being. They were equals in this direful, unlovely place; royal prejudice stood for nothing here. The mad desire to pick her up in his arms and hold her close came over him--only to perish as quickly as it flamed. What was he thinking of?

She stirred restlessly as he crept back to the door. The sharp, quick intake of her breath told him that she was awake. He stopped and utter silence fell upon the room.

A little moan escaped her lips: "Who is it? Why is it so dark? What--"

"It is I," he whispered eagerly. "King. Don't be afraid. The candle burnt out while we were asleep. I did not intend to sleep. I'm sorry. We can't have a light now until some one comes in the morning. Don't be afraid."

"I am afraid. Where are you?"

"Here!" He hastened to her side. As he came up she touched his face with her hand timorously. He caught the wayward fingers in his own and held them, drawing quite close to her. "It's all right," he said.

"Will they come soon?"

"I hope not--I mean, yes; it must be morning."

"I loathe the dark," she sighed. Presently her head dropped over against his shoulder and she was asleep again.

"I don't give a d.a.m.n if they never come," thought Truxton King, intoxicated with bliss.

Afraid to move for fear of disturbing her, he sat there for an hour or more his back twisted and uncomfortable, but never so resolute. He would not have moved for all the world.

All this time his brain was working like mad in the new-found desire to perform miracles for the sake of this lovely, unattainable creature. Was there no way to foil these triumphant conspirators? He was forgetting the Prince, the horrors of the 26th; he was thinking only of saving this girl from the fate that Marlanx had in store for her. Vos Engo may have had the promise, but what could it profit him if Marlanx had the girl?

"I've got about as much chance as a s...o...b..ll," he reflected, courage and decision growing stronger each moment. "I might just as well die one way as another. If I could only catch 'em napping for a minute, I might turn the trick. G.o.d, that would be--" he was lost in ecstatic contemplation of the glory that such an event would bring.

Footsteps in the outer room recalled him to the bitter reality of their position. He awoke her and whispered words of encouragement into her bewildered ears. Then he put on his coat and threw himself on the floor, first wrapping the rope about his wrists to deceive the guard.

A key turned in the padlock and the bolt was raised. Old man Spantz stood in the doorway, peering in at them. In surly tones Truxton replied to his sharp query, saying that the candle had gone out while he slept.

"It is noon," said the old man irascibly. Then he came in and lighted a candle.

"Noon of the 25th," said Truxton bitterly. "In twenty-four hours it will be all over, eh, Spantz?"

"At noon to-morrow," said Spantz grimly.

There were half a dozen men in the outer room, conversing in low, excited tones; the fervent gesticulations which usually marked their discussions were missing, proving the constraint that had descended upon them. One of them--it was Julius Spantz--brought in the food for the prisoners, setting it on the floor between them.

"It is usually the duty of our friend Julius to feed me," observed Truxton to his fellow-prisoner. "I dare say he won't mind if you relieve him of the task."

"She can feed you if she likes," growled Julius.

"Julius?" queried the girl from the Castle, peering at the man. "Not Julius Spantz, of the armoury?"

"The same," said Truxton. Julius laughed awkwardly and withdrew. "Son of our distinguished host here. Permit me to present Herr William--"

"Enough," snarled William Spantz, with a threatening movement toward King. His manner changed completely, however, when he turned to address the young lady. "I beg to inform you, madam, that your stay in this unwholesome place is to be brief. Pray endure it for the remainder of this day. To-night you will be removed to more pleasant quarters, that a friend has prepared for you. I may say to you, however, that it will he necessary to place a gag in your mouth before you depart. This is to be a critical night in our affairs." He lifted an inspired gaze heavenward. "Let me a.s.sure you, madam, that the two gentlemen who are to conduct you to the Count's--to your new quarters, are considerate, kindly men; you need feel no further alarm. I am requested to tell you this, so that you may rest easy for the balance of the day. As for you, my friend," turning to Truxton and smiling ironically, "I deeply deplore the fact that you are to remain. You may be lonesome in the dead hours, for, as you may imagine, we, your dearest friends, will be off about a certain business that is known to you, if I mistake not in believing that you have listened at the door these many nights. When we next gather in the room beyond, a new dispensation will have begun. You may be interested then to hear what we have to say--out there."

Truxton was silent for a moment, a sudden, swift thought flooding his brain. Controlling the quiver of antic.i.p.ation in his voice, he took occasion to say:

"I only hope you'll not forget to come back. I should be lonesome, Spantz."

"Oh, we'll not forget you."

"I suppose not. By the way, would you mind telling me what has become of your niece?"

Spantz glared at him. "She does not meet with us now. My niece is consecrating her every thought to the task that lies before her. You will not see her again."

"It's an infernal shame, that's what it is," exclaimed King, "to put it all upon that poor girl! G.o.d, I'd give ten years of my life to lead her out of this devil's mess. She's too good for--for that. It's--"