THE SILVER RING
"His wife?" she interrupted. "Yes." She smiled again—nay, almost laughed. "That seems worst of all—worse than anything else?"
Dunst anbury allowed himself to smile too. "Well, yes, of course that's true," he said. "Out of Kravonia, anyhow. What's true in Kravonia I really don't know yet."
"I suppose it's true in Kravonia too. But what I tell you is Monseigneur's will about me."
He looked hard at her. "You love him?" he asked.
"As my life, and more," said Sophy, simply.
At last Dunstanbury ceased to look at her; he laid his elbows on the battlements and stood there, his eyes roaming over the lake in the valley to the mountains beyond. Sophy left his side, and began to walk slowly up and down the rugged, uneven, overgrown surface of the walls.
The moon was sinking in the sky; there would be three or four dark hours before the dawn. A man galloped up to the gate and gave a countersign in return to a challenge; the heavy gates rolled open; he rode in; another rode out and cantered off along the road towards Praslok. There was watch and ward —Volseni was not to be caught napping as Praslok had been. Whether the King lived or died, his Volsenians were on guard. Dunstanbury turned his back on the hills and came up to Sophy.
"We Essex folk ought to stand by one another," he said. "It's the merest chance that has brought me here, but I'm glad of the chance now. And it's beginning to feel not the least strange. So long as you've need of help, count me among your soldiers."
"But you oughtn't to mix yourself up—"
"Did you act on that principle when you came to Kravonia?"
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