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“The Prince!”

Then, facing sharply round, she held out her thin arms.

“You have come–at last?”

There wasn’t much to say to this except that I had. So I confessed it. Even with the candles behind her I could see her eyes glowing like a dog’s, and an uglier poor creature this world could scarcely show.

“Is the ladder set against the window?”

“Since you seem to know, ma’am,” said I, “it is.”

“Ah, Romeo! Your cheeks are ruddy–your poppies are too red.”

“Then I’m glad my colour’s come back; for, to tell the truth, you did give me a turn, just at first. You were looking out for me, no doubt—-“

“My Prince!”–She stretched out her arms again, and being pretty well at my wits’ end I let her embrace me. “It has been so long,” she said. “Oh, the weary while! And they ill-treat me here. Where have you been, all this tedious time?”

I wasn’t going to answer that, you may be sure. It appeared to me that ’twas my right to ask questions rather than stand there answering them.

“If they’ve been ill-treating you, ma’am,” said I, “they shall answer for it.”

“My love!”

“Yes, ma’am. Would it be taking a liberty if I asked their names?”

“There is Gertrude–“

“Gertrude’s hash is as good as settled, ma’am.”

I checked Gertrude off on my thumb.

“–that’s my niece.”

For a moment I feared I’d been a little too prompt. But she went on—-

“And next there’s Henry; and the children–who have more than once made faces at me; and Phipson.”

“Phipson’s in it too?”

“You know her?”

“Don’t I?” It surprised me a trifle to find that Phipson was a female.

“Three times to-night she pulled my hair, and the rice she brought me–look at it! all stuck together and sodden.”

“Phipson shall pay for it with her blood.”

“My hero–my darling! Don’t spare Phipson. She screams bitterly if a pin is stuck into her. I did it once. Stick her all over with pins.”

By this I’d begun to guess what was pretty near the truth–that I was talking with a mad aunt of the family below, and that the game was in my hands if I played it with decent care. So I brought her to face the important question.

“Look here,” I said, “all this shall be done when you are out of their hands. At present I’m running a considerable risk in braving these persecutors of yourn. Dearest madam, the ladder’s outside and the carriage waiting. Hadn’t we better elope at once?”

She gave a sob, and fell on my shoulders.

“Oh, is it true–is it true? Pinch me, that I may awake if this is but a happy dream!”

“You are ready?”

“This moment.”

“There’s just one other little matter, ma’am–your jewels. You won’t leave them to your enemies, I suppose?”

This was the dangerous moment, and I felt a twitch of the nerves as I watched her face to see how she would take the suggestion. But the poor silly soul turned up her eyes to mine, all full of tears and confidence.

“Dearest, I am old, old. Had you come earlier, my beauty had not wanted jewels to set it off. But now I must wear them to look my best–as your bride.”

She hid her face in her hands for a second, then turned to the dressing-table, lifted her jewel-case and put it into my hands.

“I am ready,” she repeated: “let us be quick and stealthy as death.”

She followed me to the window and looking out, drew back.

“What horrible, black depths!”

“It’s as easy,” said I, “as pie. You could do it on your head; look here—-,” I climbed out first and helped her, setting her feet on the rungs.

We went down in silence, I choking with laughter all the way at the sight of Peter below, who was looking with his mouth open and his lips too weak to meet on the curses and wonderment that rose up from the depths of him. When I touched turf and handed him the jewel-case, he took it like a man in a trance.