"Come, Philippe," she whispered again. "Life or death--together!"
He held her close in his arms, aware that the moment of her weakness should be his for strength, and soothed her gently.
"This way means life for both of us--success. I am not afraid. I will follow soon. Would you have me less noble than he?" he asked.
She was silent and after a while she raised her head and he saw that the moment of her uncertainty had passed.
"I will go," she murmured, and he kissed away the moisture that had gathered at her eyes before it fell.
"Princess Tatyana!" he laughed, "if you will only wave your wand--no evil can come to me."
* * * * *
And so it was that that evening, just after dark, a very tall man and a very small donkey hauling a hurdy-gurdy, passed southward along the Sommer Strasse and were soon lost in the darkness of the night.
CHAPTER XXI
THE VISITOR