“That wouldn’t be fair,” he said. At the sound of his voice she rose up, flung her arms about his neck, and fainted.
“Well!” ejaculated the man. “What’ll I do with him?” He held her in his arms, looking helplessly about. He tried to lift her to his shoulders, but he was too exhausted to bear the additional weight. He laid her in the grass and ran on down the road.
She came to in the dampness and cold of the long grass. As she sat up a troop of cavalry rushed by on its way to the town. She began to remember; she had got the robber through the gates, and then delirium had seized her and she had fancied he was Grafton—no, it was not delirium; he was Grafton! She understood now; her message had not reached him, but he had come on his own plan; it was he who passed her on the roof of the throne-room; it was he who, seeking her, had been discovered, and, making a dash for liberty, had given her the chance to escape—no, it was not delirium. But where was he now? She could hear only the murmur of the woods. Why had he left her after she had flung her arms about his neck?
From far down the road in the direction of the town came a rush and roar as of a locomotive. She rose to her knees, to her feet. It was a racing-automobile. As it drew near its pace slackened and its noise grew louder. It came to a stop a few feet from her and stood shaking and panting.
“Somewhere along here,” she heard, in Grafton’s voice, and he leaped from the seat and came into the shadow. “Oh, there you are! Why didn’t you call out? Come, get in here!” And he caught her by the arm. “Don’t you hear the cavalry coming back?” He half lifted, half flung her into the seat and leaped in himself. “Turn about, Burroughs, and go straight for ’em!”
She tried to speak, but she was dumb, limp. The automobile sprang forward and was soon going at a tremendous pace; it would have been impossible for a voice to be heard. She looked ahead; the wind was shrieking in her ears; the cavalrymen had halted in a moonlit stretch of the road.
She could see their pistols lifting. “They are about to fire!” she thought.
She flung off her helmet, released her hair, and stood up. The moon was shining full upon her face and upon her long hair streaming and gleaming behind her. She saw the pistols instantly fall before the apparition of “Her Serene Highness,” and the horses reined back upon their haunches. The automobile rushed past them at the speed of an express train and fled, unpursued and unpursuable, along the military road towards the Swiss border.
She felt somebody’s arms close about her and then somebody’s kisses on her face.