She drew away and held him at arm's length while she scrutinized him in the light of the guttering candle.
"You—my enemy, Hugh? I—yours?" A wan smile came proudly to her lips. "If I am your enemy, belovèd, then love and loyalty have perished from the earth. And you, who have risen from the grave to come to me——!"
"Sh——, dear," he whispered. "You must know the truth. Whatever happens—here in the castle, the Austrian troops are all around us. Herr Windt, too. There is no escape for me unless the Russians come through. That is why I hope——"
Marishka put her arms around his shoulders quickly and kissed him on the lips.
"Then I, too, pray that they may come through," she whispered fervently.
"Marishka! I do not ask you to give up your allegiance——"
"No, Hugh. I give without asking. Belovèd, I want you to understand," she said solemnly. "Those that are your enemies are my enemies. You would have died for me—and I, can I do less for you?"
"Sh——, Marishka," he murmured, "there is no death——"
"Death can be no worse for me than the horrible utter loneliness without you; but whatever comes, I am yours, Hugh—in life—in death. I owe no allegiance, no fealty, but to you, and I have kept the faith, Hugh, even here. I can have no country that you may not share, no compatriots that are not yours also. My kingdom is in your heart, belovèd, there to live while you will have it so."
"Marishka!" He caught her in his arms and held her long in his embrace, and she clung close to him, her lips on his in this final test of their plighted troth. About them the thunder of battle, ever approaching nearer; the rumble and din of groaning wagons on the road below; the hoarse cries of men; the whine and sputter of laboring motors trying to pass in the narrow road—confusion, disorder, chaos; but now they heard nothing. For them the earth stood still. Nations might totter and crash, but their Empire was in each other....