“There need be no trial.” He accompanied the ambiguous sentence with a look which further enlightened me. Helga must look to him and not to the Czar for help.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It rests with you,” he answered, slowly, as if the words were wrung from him by torture. As indeed they had been.
I drew a long breath of relief. I had won, and the intense significance of my victory rushed upon me, filling me with a gladness that deprived me for the moment of the power to speak.
I got up and walked two or three times across the room. Helga was free, and I had freed her. The luck was indeed with us. Looking at the Prince I found his eyes riveted upon me.
“You are satisfied, M. Denver?”
“Yes. What remains to be done can be arranged easily. When can Mademoiselle Helga be set at liberty?”
“As soon as she agrees to abandon this ridiculous charge against me, and arranges for the surrender of the papers.”
My face clouded. I had not thought of that. Helga had to abandon everything—the very purpose of her life. Would she?
“They cannot be surrendered until she is beyond your reach.”