"Have you confided in her?"
"She knows nothing, and she is devoted to me. If the simple maid thought of the letter at all--as to what was in it, I mean--she thought, of course, that it was something I wanted you to do for me to-morrow, and had forgotten to tell you. But even here I was prudent, although you do not give me credit for prudence. I made her promise not to tell a soul, not even her grandmother, that queer, good old Mother Denise, that she had taken a letter from me to you. She did more than promise--she swore she would not tell. I bribed her, Christian--I gave her things, and to-night I gave her a pair of earrings. You should have witnessed her delight! I would wager that she is at this moment no more asleep than I am. She is looking at herself in the glass, shaking her pretty little head to make the diamonds glisten."
"Diamonds, Adelaide! A simple maid like Dionetta with diamond earrings! What will the folks say?"
"Oh, they all know I am fond of her----"
They started to their feet with a simultaneous movement.
"Footsteps!" whispered Almer.
"The Advocate's," said Adelaide, and she glided to the door, and turned the key as softly as if it were made of velvet.
"He will see a light in the room," said Christian. "He has come to talk with me. What shall we do?"
She gazed at him with a bright smile. His face was white with apprehension; hers, red with excitement and exaltation.
"I am St. George," she whispered; "but really there is no dragon to kill; we have only to send him to sleep. Of course you must see him. I will conceal myself in the inner room, and you will lock me in, and put the key in your pocket, so that I shall be quite safe. Do not be uneasy about me; I can amuse myself with books and pictures, and I will turn over the leaves so quietly that even a butterfly would not be disturbed. And when the dragon is gone I will run away immediately. I am almost sorry I came, it has distressed you so."