"Ah, but I once told you that I had no heart."
"Then you uttered a falsehood," he insisted. "Your heart,—whose existence you deny,—bled at the thought of Karl's suffering. Your heart, which was disposed to entertain some kindly emotion for me, has cooled towards me because I compassed Karl's cruel demise."
"Go on, wise man!"
"I will not ask you if I am right," pursued Trafford, "for I read acquiescence in those tear-spoiled eyes. But I will say one thing more: as Queen of Grimland your marriage to me will be null and void. What if you are deposed from your sovereignty, and became again Gloria von Schattenberg, the exile?"
"That will not occur just yet," she replied.
"I am not so certain," he mused. "What if those rumours mentioned by Gottfried were true in substance and in fact? What if Karl really escaped with General Meyer and Saunders and others to Weissheim? What if Grimland's King is still in his own country, alive, alert, surrounded by sage counsel and loyal hearts? Is your position then so very sure?"
"But Karl was put into the Eisenmädchen," she protested wonderingly.
"So were you," was Trafford's retort.
"I—yes. But you had unscrewed all the spikes. The Maiden was as harmless as an unfanged snake."
"I put those spikes in my overcoat pocket," said Trafford slowly. "They are still—in my overcoat pocket."