“If you will sign here, Your Majesty,” he said, and laid the paper before him, indicated the place, and handed him the pen.
The king scrawled a great PIETRO across the page.
It was the prince’s turn next, and the baron witnessed the signatures.
“Now, mademoiselle,” said M. Noblemaire, and laid the document in front of Miss Davis.
She took the pen from him with a hand that shook a little.
“No, no!” cried a voice outside. “It is impossible, monsieur; you cannot enter! Monsieur....”
“But I must enter!” cried another voice, and the door was thrown open with a crash.
CHAPTER XXV
THE COURSE OF HISTORY
FOR a moment no one stirred—just sat and stared at the man who came, swift and resolute, into the room, while the frightened attendant goggled from the door behind him—a man of perhaps forty, with dark, vivid face, outlined by a little beard, and a mop of black hair falling over his forehead, and deep-set eyes gleaming under heavy brows—a man with a bearing indescribably confident and audacious; just sat and stared as he advanced quickly to the table, bowed to Selden and to the Baron Lappo, and then went straight to Myra Davis, took her hand—dashing to the floor the pen he found in it—and drew her to her feet, against his breast.
“Little one,” he said, “I have come for you.”