LITMIR.BIZ

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the wall. The hand was on his throat, too.

      “Chloroform him, Harry, and don’t let him make a sound!” whispered the owner of the hand. Anguish’s twitching fingers succeeded those of his friend on the cook’s throat, his pistol was returned to his pocket, and the little bottle came again into use.

      “I’ll go ahead. Follow me as soon as you have finished this fellow. Be careful, and turn to the left when you come to the top.”

      Lorry was off across the marble floor, headed for the stairway, and Anguish was left in charge of the cook, of whom he was to make short work. Now came the desperate, uncertain part of the transaction. Suppose he were to meet the two conspirators at the head of the stairs, or in the hall, or that the other traitor, Dannox, should appear to frustrate all. It was the most trying moment in the whole life of the reckless Lorry.

      When near the top of the steps he hugged the high balustrade and cautiously peered ahead. He found himself looking down a long hall, at the far end of which, to his right, a dim light was burning. There was no sound and there was no sign of the two men, either to the right or to the left. His heart felt like lead! They evidently had entered the Princess’s room! How was he to find that room? Slowly he wriggled across the broad, dark hall, straightening up in the shadow of a great post. From this point he edged along the wall for a distance of ten or twelve feet to the left. A sound came from farther down the hall, and he imagined he heard some one approaching.

      His hand came in contact with a heavy hanging or tapestry, and he quickly squirmed behind its folds, finding himself against a door which moved as his body touched it. He felt it swing open slightly and drew back, intending to return to the hall, uncertain and very much undecided as to the course to pursue. His revolver was in his hand. Just as he was about to pull aside the curtain a man glided past, quickly followed by another. Providence had kept him from running squarely into them. They were going toward the left, and he realized that they were now approaching the Princess’s room. How he came to be ahead of them he could not imagine. Strange trembling seized his legs, so great was the relief after the narrow escape. Again he felt the door move slightly as he pressed against it. The necessity for a partial recovery of his composure before the next and most important step, impelled him softly to enter the room for an instant’s breath.

      Holding to the door he stood inside and drew himself to his full height, taking a long and tremulous breath. There was no light in the room, but through the door crack to his left came a dim, broad streak. He now knew where he was. This room was next to that in which the Princess slept, for had he not seen the light from her window? Perhaps he was now in the room of the Countess Dagniar. Next door! Next door! Even now the daring Geddos and Ostrom were crawling towards the bed of the ruler of Graustark, not twenty feet away. His first impulse was to cross and open the door leading to the next room, surmising that it would be unlocked, but he remembered Anguish, who was doubtless, by this time, stealing up the stairs. They must not be separated, for it would require two steady, cool heads to deal with the villains. It was not one man’s work. As he turned to leave the room he thought how wonderfully well they had succeeded in the delicate enterprise so far.

      His knees struck the door, and there was a dull thump, not loud in reality, but like the report of a gun to him. A sudden rustle in the darkness of the room and then a sleepy voice, soft and quick, as of a woman awakening with a start.

      “Who is it?”

      His heart ceased beating, his body grew stiff and immovable. Again the voice, a touch of alarm in it now:

      “Is that you, Donnox?”

      She spoke in German, and the voice came from somewhere in front and to his right. He could not answer, could not move. The paralysis of indecision was upon him.

      “How is it that the outer door is open?”

      This time there was something like a reprimand in the tones, still low. He almost could see the wide-open, searching eyes.

      CHAPTER X

      YETIVE

      There could be no further hesitation. Something must be done and instantly. He gently closed the door before answering the third question. In his nervousness he spoke in English, advancing to the middle of the room. Impossible to see the woman to whom he hissed this alarming threat-he only could speculate as to its effect:

      “If you utter a sound, madam, I shall kill you. Be calm, and allow me to explain my presence here!”

      He expected her to shriek, forgetting that she might not understand his words. Instead there was a deathly silence. Had she swooned? His heart was leaping with hope. But she spoke softly again, tremulously, and in English:

      “You will find my jewels on the dressing table. Take them and go You will not hurt me?”

      “I am not here to do you injury, but to serve your Princess,” whispered the man. “For God’s sake, do not make an outcry. You will ruin everything. Will you let me explain?”

      “Go! Go! Take anything! I can be calm no longer. Oh, how can I expect mercy at your hands!” Her tones were rising to a wail of terror.

      “Sh! Do you want to die?” he hissed, striding to the canopy bed, discernible as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. “I will kill you if you utter a sound, so help me God!”

      “Oh!” she moaned.

      “Listen! You must aid me! Do you hear?”

      Another heart-breaking moan. “I am here to save the Princess. There is a plot to abduct her tonight. Already there are men in the castle, perhaps in her room. You must tell me where she sleeps. There is no time to be lost. I am no thief, before God! I am telling you the truth. Do not be alarmed, I implore you. Trust me, madam, and you will not regret it. Where does the Princess sleep?” He jerked out these eager, pleading words quickly, breathlessly.

      “How am I to trust you?” came back a whisper from the bed.

      “Here is a revolver! Take it and kill me if I attempt the slightest injury. Where are you?” He felt along the bed with his hand.

      “Keep away! Please! Please!” she sobbed.

      “Take the pistol! Be calm, and in heaven’s name help me to save her. Those wretches may have killed her already!”

      The revolver dropped upon the clothes. He was bending eagerly over, holding the curtains back.

      “My friend is in the hall. We have traced the men to the Princess’s door, I think. My God, be quick! Do you wish to see her stolen from under your eyes?”

      “You are now in the Princess’s room,” answered the voice from the bed, calmer and with some alacrity. “Is this true that you tell me?”

      “As God is my witness! And you—you—are you the Princess?” gasped the man, drawing back.

      “I am. Where is Dannox?” She was sitting bolt upright in the bed, the pistol in her trembling fingers.

      “He is one of the conspirators. One of the cooks and two other guards are in the plot. Can you trust me enough to leave your bed and hide in another part of the room? The scoundrels have mistaken the door, but they may be here at any moment. You must be quick! I will protect you—I swear it! Come, your Highness! Hide!”

      Something in the fierce, anxious whisper gave her confidence. The miracle had been wrought! He had composed this woman under the most trying circumstances that could have teen imagined. She slipped from the bed and threw a long, loose silken gown about her.

      “Who are you?” she asked, touching his arm.

      “I am a foreigner—an American—Grenfall Lorry! Hurry!” he implored.

      She did not move for a moment, but he distinctly heard her catch her breath.

      “Am I dreaming?” she murmured, faintly. Her fingers now clutched his arm tightly.

      “I should say not! I don’t like to order you around, your Highness, but—”

      “Come—come

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