“Has it occurred to you, sir, that you are placing me in a terrible position? What excuse can I have, a captain of the guard, for slinking about at night with a man whom I am supposed to be tracking to earth? Discovery will brand me as a traitor. I cannot deny the charge without exposing Her Royal Highness.”
Lorry turned cold. He had not thought of this alarming possibility. But his ready wit came again to his relief, and with bright, confident eyes he swept away the obstacle.
“If discovered, you are at once to proclaim me a prisoner, take the credit for having caught me, and claim the reward.”
“In that case, you will not go to the castle, but to the Tower.”
“Not if you obey orders. The offer of reward says that I must be delivered to the undersigned. You will take me to her and not to the Tower.”
Quinnox smiled and threw up his hands as if unable to combat the quick logic of his companion. Together they made their way to the prior's cell, afterward to the Abbot's apartment. It was barely eleven o'clock and he had not retired. He questioned Quinnox closely, bade Lorry farewell and blessed him, sent his benediction to the Princess and ordered them conducted to the gates.
Ten minutes later they stood outside the wall, the great gates having been closed sharply behind them. Above them hung the silvery moon, full and bright, throwing its refulgent splendor over the mountain top with all the brilliancy of day. Never had Lorry seen the moon so accursedly bright.
“Gad, it is like day,” he exclaimed.
“As I told you, sir,” agreed the other, reproof in his voice.
“We must wait until the moon goes down. It won't do to risk it now. Can we not go somewhere to keep warm for an hour or so?”