“You have more sense than I thought you had,” he answered. “Come, give me your hand;”—she did as he desired;—“it is a nice soft hand, and looks very white in my black one, doesn’t it? You have fully made up your mind to go with me, then?”
“Yes.”
“That is good. Your flight must be provided for. The King must think you have escaped by yourself.”
“How will you manage that?”
“That is easy. Let me see now, what is the best plan? I have it. I will procure a rope, and make one end fast to the verandah, and let the other fall over the parapet of the terrace.”
“That is a good idea,” she answered.
“Yes, it will avert all suspicion from me.”
“When will you take me?”
“To-night.”