"Two or three hundred leagues, perhaps--it may be more," I answered. "I do not know how far it is, Yolanda, but it is not far enough for your purposes. Even could you reach there, Styria could not protect you."
"I was not thinking of--of what you suppose, Sir Karl," she said plaintively.
"What were you thinking of, Yolanda?" I asked.
"Of nothing--of--of--a wild dream of hiding away from the world in some unknown corner, at times comes to me in my sleep--only in my sleep, Sir Karl--for in my waking hours I know it to be impossible. The only pleasant part of being a princess is that the world envies you; but what a poor bauble it is to buy at the frightful price I pay!"
"I have been on mountain tops," I answered philosophically, "and I find that breathing grows difficult as one ascends."
"Ah, Sir Karl," she answered tearfully, "I believe I'll go upstairs and weep."
I led her to the moving panel and opened it for her. Without turning her face she held back her hand for me to kiss. Then she started up the dark stone steps, and I knew that she was weeping. I closed the panel and sat on the cushioned bench. To say that I would have given my old life to win happiness for her but poorly measures my devotion. A man's happiness depends entirely on the number and quality of those to whom his love goes out. Before meeting Yolanda I drew all my happiness from loving one person--Max. Now my source was doubled, and I wished for the first time that I might live my life again, to lay it at this girl's feet.