"Where there are no laws left, you can break none," she said. "There are none left in Kravonia now. There's but one crime—to be weak; and but one penalty—death."
"Neither the crime nor the penalty for us to-night!" he cried, gayly. "Queen Sophia's star shines to-night!"
"Can you see it?" she asked, touching her cheek a moment.
"No, I can't," he laughed. "I forgot—I spoke metaphorically."
"When people speak of my star, I always think of this. So my star shines to-night? Yes, I think so—shines brightly before it sets! I wonder if Kravonia's star, too, will have a setting soon—a stormy setting!"
"Well, we're not helping to make it more tranquil," said Dunstanbury.
He saw her turn her head suddenly and sharply towards him; she spoke quickly and low.
"I'm seeking a man's life in this expedition," she said. "It's his or mine before we part."
"I don't blame you for that."
"Oh no!" The reply sounded almost contemptuous; at least it showed plainly that her conscience was not troubled. "And he won't blame me either. When he sees me, he'll know what it means."