"Ah, but what conclusion?" she cried. "Who knows! Who knows?"
The sight of her agitation, of that splendid woman nigh to tears, thrilled me to the marrow with a storm of compassion and something more. I was carried out of myself.
"God be witness," I cried, "that while I live you shall be safe from any harm. God be my witness for that."
She uttered a tiny sob and put out her hand impulsively.
"You are good," she said brokenly. "I am a coward to give way. But I was alone. I have brooded over it all. And Frederic—Thank you, oh, thank you! To have said so much, perhaps, has helped me. Oh, we shall all live—live to talk of these days with shudders and thankfulness to God. You are right to call God to witness. He is our witness now—He looks down on us both, and He will help us. I will pray to Him this night, as I have prayed three times a day."
She spoke in a voice full of emotion, and very low and earnest, and her hand was still in mine. And, as she finished, the two electric lights in the corridor went out, leaving us in pitch darkness. I felt the Princess shudder.
"Be brave," I whispered. "Oh, be brave! You have called to God. He will hear you."
"Yes, yes," she whispered back, and clutched my hand tighter, drawing nearer me till her furs rested against my breast. "But what is it? What does it mean?"
"It may mean nothing," I replied, "but it may mean——"
I put my ear to the door, still holding her, and listened. Through the noises of the sea I could make out other and alien sounds. "They come... You must go. Can you find your way?"