The George Barr McCutcheon MEGAPACK ®. George Barr McCutcheon

did you enter this room?”

      “An hour ago.”

      “You were not here when I came!”

      “I have been standing on this spot for an hour. You have been very much excited, I’ll agree, but it is strange you did not see me,” lied Quinnox.

      Gabriel looked about helplessly, nonplussed.

      “You were here when I came in?” he asked, wonderingly.

      “Ask Her Royal Highness,” commanded the captain, smiling.

      “Captain Quinnox brought the prisoner to me an hour ago,” she said, mechanically.

      “It is a lie!” cried Gabriel. “He was not here when I entered!”

      The captain of the guard laid a heavy hand on the shoulder of the Prince and said, threateningly:

      “I was here and I am here. Have a care how you speak. Were I to do right I should shoot you like a dog. You came like a thief, you insult the ruler of my land. I have borne it all because you are a Prince, but have a care—have a care. I may forget myself and tear out your black heart with these hands. One word from Her Royal Highness will be your death warrant.”

      He looked inquiringly at the Princess as if anxious to put the dangerous witness where he could tell no tales. She shook her head, but did not speak. Lorry realized that the time had come for him to assert himself. Assuming a distressed air he bowed his head and said, dejectedly:

      “My pleading has been in vain, then, your Highness. I have sworn to you that I am innocent of this murder, and you have said I shall have a fair trial. That is all you can offer?”

      “That is all,” she said, shrilly, her mind gradually grasping his meaning.

      “You will not punish the poor people who secreted me in their house for weeks, for they are convinced of my innocence. Your captain here, who found me in their house tonight, can also speak well of them. I have only this request to make, in return for what little service I may have given you: Forgive the old people who befriended me. I am ready to go to the Tower at once, captain.”

      Gabriel heard this speech with a skeptical smile on his face.

      “I am no fool,” he said, simply. “Captain,” shrewdly turning to Quinnox, “if he is your prisoner, why do you permit him to retain his revolver?”

      The conspirators were taken by surprise, but Lorry had found his wits.

      “It is folly, your Highness, to allow this gentleman and conquering Prince to cross-examine you. I am a prisoner, and that is the end of it. What odds is it to the Prince of Dawsbergen how and where I was caught or why your officer brought me to you?”

      “You were ordered from my house once today, yet you come again like a conqueror. I should not spare you. You deserve to lose your life for the actions of tonight. Captain Quinnox, will you kill him if I ask you to end his wretched life?” Yetive’s eyes were blazing with wrath, beneath which gleamed a hope that he could be frightened into silence.

      “Willingly—willingly!” cried Quinnox. “Now, your Highness? ‘Twere better in the hall!”

      “For God’s sake, do not murder me! Let me go!” cringed the Prince.

      “I do not mean that you should kill him now, Quinnox, but I instruct you to do so if he puts foot inside these walls again. Do you understand?”

      “Yes, your Highness.”

      “Then you will place this prisoner in the castle dungeon until tomorrow morning, when he is to be taken to the Tower. Prince Gabriel may accompany you to the dungeon cell, if he likes, after which you will escort him to the gates. If he enters them again you are to kill him. Take them both away!”

      “Your Highness, I must ask you to write a pardon for the good people in whose house the prisoner was found,” suggested Quinnox, shrewdly seeing a chance for communication unsuspected by the Prince.

      “A moment, your Highness,” said the Prince, who had recovered himself cleverly. “I appreciate your position. I have made a serious charge, and I now have a fair proposition to suggest to you. If this man is not produced tomorrow morning I take it for granted that I am at liberty to tell all that has happened in this room tonight. If he is produced, I shall kneel and beg your pardon.”

      The Princess turned paler than ever and knew not how she kept from falling to the floor. There was a long silence following Gabriel’s unexpected but fair suggestion.

      “That is very fair, your Highness,” said Lorry. “There is no reason why I should not be a prisoner tomorrow. I don’t see how I can hope to escape the inevitable. Your dungeon is strong and I have given my word of honor to the captain that I shall make no further effort to evade the law.”

      “I agree,” murmured the Princess, ready to faint under the strain.

      “I must see him delivered to Prince Bolaroz,” added Gabriel mercilessly.

      “To Bolaroz,” she repeated.

      “Your Highness, the pardon for the poor old people,” reminded Quinnox. She glided to the desk, stunned, bewildered. It seemed as though death were upon her. Quinnox followed and bent near her ear. “Do not be alarmed,” he whispered. “No one knows of Mr. Lorry’s presence here save the Prince, and if he dares to accuse you before Bolaroz our people will tear him to pieces. No one will believe him.”

      “You—you can save him, then?” she gasped, joyously.

      “If he will permit me to do so. Write to him what you will, your Highness, and he shall have the message. Be brave and all will go well. Write quickly! This is supposed to be the pardon.”

      She wrote feverishly, a thousand thoughts arising for every one that she was able to transfer to the paper. When she had finished the hope-inspired scrawl she arose and, with a gracious smile, handed to the waiting captain the pardon for those who had secreted the fugitive.

      “I grant forgiveness to them gladly,” she said.

      “I thank you,” said Lorry, bowing low.

      “Mr. Lorry, I regret the difficulty in which you find yourself. It was on my account, too, I am told. Be you guilty or innocent, you are my friend, my protector. May God be good to you.” She gave him her hand calmly, steadily, as if she were bestowing favor upon a subject. He kissed the hand gravely.

      “Forgive me for trespassing on your good nature tonight, your Highness.

      “The five thousand gavvos shall be yours tomorrow, Captain Quinnox,” she said, graciously. “You have done your duty well.” The faithful captain bowed deep and low and a weight was lifted from his conscience.

      “Gentlemen, the door,” he said, and without a word the trio left the room. She closed the door and stood like a statue until their footsteps died away in the distance. As one in a daze she sat at the desk till the dawn, Grenfall Lorry’s revolver lying before her.

      Through the halls, down the stairs and into the clammy dungeon strode the silent trio.

      But before Lorry stepped inside the cell Gabriel asked a question that had been troubling him for many minutes.

      “I am afraid I have—ah—misjudged her,” muttered Gabriel, now convinced that he had committed himself irretrievably.

      “You will find she has not misjudged you,” said the prisoner, grimly. “Can’t I have a candle in here, captain?”

      “You may keep this lantern,” said Quinnox, stepping inside the narrow cell. As he placed the lantern on the floor he whispered: “I will return in an hour. Read this!” Lorry’s hand closed over the bit of perfumed paper.

      The Prince was now inside the cell, peering about curiously, even timorously. “By the way, your Highness, how would you enjoy living in a hole like this all your life?”

      “Horrible!”