“Where is Lestrade?” I asked, and Astolba looking up, I added, “because we prisoners must hold a counsel. I have seen that which makes this Palace no fit shelter for my future wife.”
At this she blushed, but after a few moments’ dalliance the seriousness of my business urged me to action, and at my repeated question Astolba drew me to a further room, where sat my comrade.
I greeted him with frankness as is my way, and because we had been more like brothers than mere friends, I told him bluntly at once of the good-fortune that had befallen me.
It grieved me then, the more that I had so little expected it, that Lestrade should act as he did. For at my first words the smile left his face, and with one long, and I could have sworn reproachful, look at Astolba, he rushed by me and was gone.
The maid, too, was strangely pale again. Well, I was hurt and puzzled also. Astolba I could see had felt deeply the manner in which Gaston had treated my announcement. But it was no time for idle questioning. The hour to act had struck, and I passed over, in silence, my friend’s new mood, and bade Astolba think on that which should best lead to our escape.
And with a woman’s instinct she put her finger at once upon the plan most like to aid us.
I had spoken of the dangers round about, and of the new and great danger that was ours in acting thus in secret without the knowledge of the Queen.
“In all this city we have not a friend,” I said, when she with a new impatience and insufficient deference cut short the thread of my discourse.
“You have one both willing and powerful. Zobo, the Captain of the Queen’s guard, shall aid us.”
“Zobo!” cried I, in amazement at her folly. “Zobo! the best friend of Lah!”