"An idea has come to me," he whispered eagerly. "I think I see a way. By George, if it should only happen as I hope it may!"
"Tell me!" she insisted.
"Not now. I must think it all out carefully. It won't do to get your hopes up and then fail."
Whatever the thought was that had come to him, it certainly had put new life and hope into him. She nibbled at the unwholesome food, never removing her eyes from his tall, restless figure as he paced the floor, his brows knit in thought. Finally he sat down beside her, calmly helping himself to a huge slice of bread and a boiled carrot.
"I've never liked carrots before. I love 'em now. I'm taking them for my complexion."
"Don't jest, Mr. King. What is it you intend to do? Please tell me. I must know. You heard what he said about taking me to the Count's. He meant Marlanx. I will die first."
"No. I will die first. By the way, I may as well tell you that I wasn't thinking altogether of how we are to escape. There was something else on my mind." He stopped and looked at her puzzled face. "Why should I save you from Marlanx just to have you hurry off and get married to Vos Engo? It's a mean thought, I know," hastily, "and unworthy of a typical hero, but, just the same, I hate to think of you marrying some one—else."
"Some one else?" she questioned, a pucker on her forehead.
"Oh, I know I wouldn't have a ghost of a chance, even if there wasn't a Vos Engo. It isn't that," he explained. "I recognise the—er—difference in our stations and—"
"Are you crazy, Mr. King?"