"She will be out of it, as you say, to-morrow, my excellent Samaritan.

She knows." There could be no mistake as to the meaning of the prophetic words.

With a profound bow to the lady and a leer for King, he departed, bolting the door behind him. Instantly King was at her side.

"An idea has come to me," he whispered eagerly. "I think I see a way. By George, if it should only happen as I hope it may!"

"Tell me!" she insisted.

"Not now. I must think it all out carefully. It won't do to get your hopes up and then fail."

Whatever the thought was that had come to him, it certainly had put new life and hope into him. She nibbled at the unwholesome food, never removing her eyes from his tall, restless figure as he paced the floor, his brows knit in thought. Finally he sat down beside her, calmly helping himself to a huge slice of bread and a boiled carrot.

"I've never liked carrots before. I love 'em now. I'm taking them for my complexion."

"Don't jest, Mr. King. What is it you intend to do? Please tell me. I must know. You heard what he said about taking me to the Count's. He meant Marlanx. I will die first."

"No. I will die first. By the way, I may as well tell you that I wasn't thinking altogether of how we are to escape. There was something else on my mind." He stopped and looked at her puzzled face. "Why should I save you from Marlanx just to have you hurry off and get married to Vos Engo?

It's a mean thought, I know," hastily, "and unworthy of a typical hero, but, just the same, I hate to think of you marrying some one--else."

"Some one else?" she questioned, a pucker on her forehead.

"Oh, I know I wouldn't have a ghost of a chance, even if there wasn't a Vos Engo. It isn't that," he explained. "I recognise the--er--difference in our stations and--"

"Are you crazy, Mr. King?"

"Not now. I was a bit touched, I think, but I'm over it now. I dare say it was caused by excessive reading of improbable romances. Life rather takes it out of a fellow, don't you know. It's all simple enough in books, but in--"

"What has all this got to do with your plan to escape?"

"Nothing at all. It merely has to do with my ambition to become a true hero. You see, I'm an amateur hero. Of course, this is good practice for me; in time, I may become an expert and have no difficulty in winning a d.u.c.h.ess or even a princess. Don't misunderstand me. I intend to do all I can toward rescuing you to-night. The point I'm trying to get at is this: don't you think it's pretty rough on a hero to save the girl for some other fellow to snap up and marry?"

"I think I begin to see," she said, a touch of pink coming into her cheeks.

"That's encouraging," he said, staring gloomily at the food he had put aside. "You are quite sure you promised Vos Engo that you'd marry him?"

"No. I did not promise him that I'd marry him," she said, leaning back and surveying him between narrowed lids.

"I beg your pardon. You said you had promised--"

"You did not allow me time to finish. I meant to say that I had promised to let him know in a day or two. That is all, Mr. King." There was a suspicious tremor in her voice and her gaze wavered beneath his unbelieving stare.

"What's that?" he demanded. "You--you don't mean to say that--Oh, Lord!

I wonder! I wonder if I have a chance--just a ghost of a chance?" He leaned very close, incredulous, fascinated. "What is it that you are going to let him know? Yes or no?"

"That was the question I was considering when the brigands caught me,"

she answered, meeting his gaze fairly. "I haven't thought of it since."

"Of course, he is in your own cla.s.s," said Truxton glumly.

She hesitated an instant, her face growing very serious. "Mr. King, has no one told you my name--who I am?" she asked.

"You are the Prince's aunt, that's all I know."

"No more his aunt in reality than Jack Tullis is his uncle. I thought you understood."

"Who are you, then?"

"I am Jack Tullis's sister, a New Yorker bred and born, and I live not more than two blocks from your--"

"For the love of--" he began blankly; then words failed him, which was just as well. He gulped twice, joy or unbelief choking him. The smile that crept into her face dazzled him; he stared at her in speechless amazement. "Then--then, you are not a d.u.c.h.ess or a--" he began again.

"Not at all. A very plain New Yorker," she said, laughing aloud in sudden hysteria. For some reason she drew quickly away from him. "You are not disappointed, are you? Does it spoil your romance to--"

"Spoil it? Disappointed? No! By George, I--I can't believe that any such luck--no, no, I don't mean it just that way! Let me think it out. Let me get it through my head." He leaned back against the wall and devoured her with eager, disturbing eyes. "You are Tullis's sister? You live near--Oh, I say, this is glorious!" He arose and took a turn about the room. In some nervousness and uncertainty she also came to her feet, watching him wonderingly. He hurried back to her, a new light in his eyes. She was very desirable, this slender, uncertain person in the crumpled grey.

"Miss Tullis," he said, a thrill in his voice, "you are a princess, just the same. I never was so happy in my life as I am this minute. It isn't so black as it was. I thought I couldn't win you because you--"

"Win me?" she gasped, her lips parted in wonder.

"Precisely. Now I'm looking at it differently. I don't mind telling you that I'm in love with you--desperately in love. It's been so with me ever since that day in the Park. I loved you as a d.u.c.h.ess or a princess, and without hope. Now, I--I--well, I'm going to hope. Perhaps Vos Engo has the better of me just now, but I'm in the lists with him--with all of them. If I get you out of this place--and myself as well--I want you to understand that from this very minute I am trying to win you if it lies in the power of any American to win a girl who has suitors among the n.o.bility. Will--will you give me a chance--just a ghost of a chance?

I'll try to do the rest."

"Are--are you really in earnest?" she murmured, composure flying to the winds.

"Yes; terribly so," he said gently. "I mean every word of it. I do love you."

"I--I cannot talk about it now, Mr. King," she fluttered, moving away from him in a sudden panic. Presently he went over to her. She was standing near the candle, staring down at the flame with a strangely preoccupied expression in her eyes.

"Forgive me," he said. "I was hasty, inconsiderate. I--"

"You quite took my breath away," she panted, looking up at him with a queer little smile.

"I know," he murmured.

Her troubled gaze resumed its sober contemplation of the flame.

"How was I to tell--" she began, but checked herself. "Please, Mr. King, you won't say anything more to me about--about it,--just now, will you?

Shall we talk of our plans for to-night? Tell me about them."

He lowered his eyes, suddenly disheartened. "I only ask you to believe that I am desperately in earnest."

"I cannot comprehend how--I mean, it is so very wonderful. You don't think me unappreciative, or mean, do you?"

"Of course not. You are startled, that's all. I'm a blundering fool.

Still, you must agree that I was frightfully bowled over when I found that you were not what I thought. I couldn't hold back, that's all. By Jove, isn't it wonderful? Here I've been looking all over the world for you, only to find that you've been living around the corner from me all these years! It's positively staggering! Why," with a sudden burst of his unquenchable buoyancy, "we might have been married two years ago and saved all this trouble. Just think of it!"

She smiled. "I do like you," she said warmly, giving him her hand. He kissed it gallantly and stepped back--resolutely.

"That's something," he said with his humblest, most conquering smile.