“You have heard to-day, dearest, how they hate me—the Prince is master now.”
“The Prince,” she said in terror,—“he would not allow any harm to come to you.”
“I should not ask for his protection; he is not my master—nor shall be.”
She went on her knees beside the bed and laid her lips to his hand.
“God Almighty guard us,” she whispered. “He who is greater than princes has us in His charge, Cornelius.”
“Amen, amen,” cried the Ruard. “And may He give me courage to meet the exceeding bitterness of my inevitable end!”
He laid his free hand on her bowed black head, and the tears welled up into his eyes for the ruin of the ideals to which he had given his life.