The George Barr McCutcheon MEGAPACK ®. George Barr McCutcheon

ruin all! There must be no light,” cried the soldier, his voice high and shrill.

      “But we are out of the city.”

      “I know! I know! But I will not permit you to have a light. Against orders. We have not passed the outpost,” expostulated the other, nervously.

      “What’s the matter with your voice,” demanded Lorry, struck by the change in it.

      “My voice?” asked the other, the tones natural again. “It’s changing. Didn’t it embarrass you when your voice broke like that?” went on the questioner, breathlessly. Lorry was now leaning back in the seat, quite a little mystified.

      “I don’t believe mine ever broke like that,” he said, speculatively. There was no response, and he sat silent for some time, regretting more and more that it was so dark.

      Gradually he became conscious of a strange, unaccountable presence in that dark cab. He could feel a change coming over him; he could not tell why, but he was sure that some one else was beside him, some one who was not the soldier. Something soft and delicate and sweet came into existence, permeating the darkness with its undeniable presence. A queer power seemed drawing him toward the other end of the seat. The most delightful sensations took possession of him; his heart fluttered oddly; his head began to reel under the spell.

      “Who are you?” he cried, in a sort of ecstacy. There was no answer. He remembered his matchsafe, and with trembling, eager fingers drew it from the pocket of the coat he was wearing. The next instant he was scratching a match, but as it flared the body of his companion was hurled against his and a ruthless mouth blew out the feeble blaze.

      “Oh, why do you persist?” was cried in his ears.

      “I am determined to see your face,” he answered, sharply, and with a little cry of dismay the other occupant of the carriage fell back in the corner. The next match drove away the darkness and the mystery. With blinking eyes he saw the timid soldier huddling in the corner, one arm covering his face, the other hand vainly striving to pull the skirt of a military coat over a pair of red trouser-legs. Below the arm that hid the eyes and nose he saw parted lips and a beardless, dainty chin; above, long, dark tresses strayed in condemning confusion. The breast beneath the blue coat heaved convulsively.

      The match dropped from his fingers, and, as darkness fell again, it hid the soldier in the strong arms of the fugitive—not a soldier bold, but a gasping, blushing, unresisting coward. The lithe form quivered and then became motionless in the fierce, straining embrace; the head dropped upon his shoulder, his hot lips caressing the burning face and pouring wild, incoherent words into the little ears.

      “You! You!” he cried, mad with joy. “Oh, this is Heaven itself! My brave darling! Mine forever—mine forever! You shall never leave me now! Drive on! Drive on!” he shouted to the men outside, drunk with happiness. “We’ll make this journey endless. I know you love me now—I know it! God, I shall die with joy!”

      A hand stole gently into his hand, and her lips found his in a long, passionate kiss.

      “I did not want you to know! Ach, I am so sorry! Why, why did I come tonight? I was so strong, so firm, I thought, but see how weak I am. You dominate,—you own me, body and soul, in spite of everything,—against my will. I Love you—I love you—I love you!”

      “I have won against the princes and the potentates! I was losing hope, my Queen, losing hope. You were so far away, so unattainable. I would brave a thousand deaths rather than lose this single minute of my life. It makes me the richest man in all the world. How brave you are! This night you have given up everything for my sake. You are fleeing with me, away from all that has been dear to you.”

      “No, no. You must not be deluded. It is only for tonight, only till you are safe from pursuit. I shall go back. You must not hope for more than this hour of weakness, sweet as it is to me,” she cried.

      “You are going back and not with me?” he cried, his heart chilling.

      “You know I cannot. That is why I hoped you would never know how much I care for you. Alas, you have found me out! My love was made rash by fear. You could never have escaped the vengeance of Axphain. I could not have shielded you. This was the only course and I dared not hesitate. I should have died with terror had you gone to trial, knowing what I knew. You will not think me unwomanly for coming with you as I am. It was necessary—really it was! No one else could have—” But he smothered the wail in kisses.

      “Unwomanly!” he exclaimed. “It was by divine inspiration. But you will come with me, away from Graustark, away from every one. Say that you will!”

      “I cannot bear to hear you plead, and it breaks my heart to go back there. But I cannot leave Graustark—I cannot! It would be Heaven to go with you to the end of the world, but I have others besides myself to consider. You are my god, my idol. I can worship you from my unhappy throne, from my chamber, from the cell into which my heart is to retreat. But I cannot, I will not desert Graustark. Not even for you!”

      He was silent, impressed by her nobility, her loyalty. Although the joy ebbed from his craving heart, he saw the justice of her self-sacrifice.

      “I would give my soul to see your face now, Yetive. Your soul is in your eyes; I can feel it. Why did you not let me stay in prison, meet death and so end all? It would have been better for both of us. I cannot live without you.”

      “We can live for each other, die for each other,—apart. Distance will not lessen my love. You know that it exists; it has been betrayed to you. Can you not be satisfied—just a little bit—with that knowledge?” she pleaded.

      “But I want you in reality, not in my dreams, my imagination.”

      “Ach, we must not talk like this! There is no alternative. You are to go, I am to stay. The future is before us; God knows what it may bring to us. Perhaps it may be good enough to give us happiness—who knows? Do not plead with me. I cannot endure it. Let me be strong again! You will not be so cruel as to battle against me, now that I am weak; it would only mean my destruction. You do not seek that!”

      His soul, his honor, the greatest reverence he had ever known were in the kiss that touched her brow.

      “I shall love you as you command—without hope,” he said, sadly.

      “Without hope for either,” she sobbed.

      “My poor little soldier,” he whispered, lovingly, as her body writhed under the storm of tears.

      “I—I wish—I were a—soldier!” she wailed. He comforted her as best he could and soon she was quiet—oh, so very quiet. Her head was on his shoulder, her hands in his.

      “How far do we drive?” he asked, at last.

      “To the monastery. We are nearly there.” she answered, in tones far away.

      “The monastery? Why do we go there?” he cried.

      “You are to stay there.”

      “What do you mean? I thought I was to leave Graustark.”

      “You are to leave—later on. Until the excitement is over the abbey is to be your hiding place. I have arranged everything, and it is the only safe place on earth for you at this time. No one will think of looking for you up there.”

      “I would to God I could stay there forever, living above you,” he said, drearily.

      “Your window looks down upon the castle; mine looks up to yours. The lights that burn in those two windows will send out beams of love and life for one of us, at least.”

      “For both of us, my sweetheart,” he corrected, fondly. “You say I will be safe there. Can you trust these men who are aiding you?”

      “With my life! Quinnox carried a message to the Abbot yesterday, and he grants you a temporary home there, secure and as secret as the tomb. He promises me this, and he is my best friend. Now, let me tell you why I am with you, masquerading so shamefully—”

      “Adorably!”