Dora sighed. "I know, Talabor, but I am not going to move till I hear from my father."
"Dear lady," said Talabor again, after a pause. "Dear mistress—perhaps you may have noticed that I have been out riding every day. I have scoured the whole neighbourhood for miles round, and I have learnt a good deal more than the mere rumours which are all that reach us here."
"And you have dared to keep it to yourself?"
"Yes, dear mistress, I have dared! I did not wish to trouble you for nothing, and one hears many things. If I have done wrong, God knows, I could not do anything else until I was sure."
"Talabor!" said Dora, quite disarmed, "and why do you speak now?"
"Because the time has come when I must either tell you the worst, or let you risk your precious life."
Dora shuddered but did not speak, and Talabor went on to tell her, what we already know, of the invasion, and of the successes already gained by Batu Khan. There were naturally many gaps in his narrative, and much that was already sorrowful fact, he knew only as rumour and surmise. But still, with all deficiencies it was abundantly evident that her present home was no longer safe, and that the very next week, day, even hour, she might be exposed to fresh and graver peril.
And still, what was she to do?
"Is that all?" she asked presently, "you have not heard anything of my father?"
"I have heard that he is alive at least," responded Talabor cheerfully, "though twice I heard the contrary——"