“My poor little soldier,” he whispered, lovingly, as her body writhed under the storm of tears.
“I—I wish—I were a—soldier!” she wailed. He comforted her as best he could and soon she was quiet—oh, so very quiet. Her head was on his shoulder, her hands in his.
“How far do we drive?” he asked, at last.
“To the monastery. We are nearly there.” she answered, in tones far away.
“The monastery? Why do we go there?” he cried.
“You are to stay there.”
“What do you mean? I thought I was to leave Graustark.”
“You are to leave—later on. Until the excitement is over the abbey is to be your hiding place. I have arranged everything, and it is the only safe place on earth for you at this time. No one will think of looking for you up there.”
“I would to God I could stay there forever, living above you,” he said, drearily.
“Your window looks down upon the castle; mine looks up to yours. The lights that burn in those two windows will send out beams of love and life for one of us, at least.”