SOPHY OF KRAVONIA
ably against your orders. So I thank you. But I can face even the rigors of Kravonia."
She held out her hand; he bent and kissed it. " In fact, I hadn't the least right to say it," he confessed.
"Not the least from any point of view. It's your fault, though, Baroness."
"Since I'm party to the crime, I'll keep the secret," she promised with a decidedly kindly glance. To Sophy, admiration of herself always argued something good in a man; she had none of that ungracious scorn which often disfigures the smile of beauty. She gave a little sigh, followed quickly by a smile.
"We've said all we possibly can to one another, you and I; more than we could, perhaps! And now—to duty!" She pointed to the door of the Castle. The Prince was coming down the wooden causeway. He, too, wore the Volseni sheepskins. In his hand he carried a sealed letter. Almost at the same moment a groom led Markart's horse from the stables. The Prince joined them and, after a bow to Sophy, handed the letter to Markart.
"For his Majesty. And you remember my message to General Stenovics?"
"Accurately, sir."
"Good!" He gave Markart his hand. "Goodbye a pleasant ride to you, Captain pleasanter than last night's." His grave face broke into a smile.
"I'm not to have Monsieur Zerkovitch's company this time, sir?"
"Why, no, Captain. You see, Zerkovitch left the Castle soon after six o'clock. Rather a short night, yes, but he was in a hurry."
Sophy burst into a laugh at the dismay on Markart's face. "We neither of us knew that, Captain
196
