I drew my sword, trusting the silent weapon rather than the noisy one, and in a moment I was at the door and had pushed it inward. So far all was well: I stepped in and closed it quickly behind me. Before me I saw a long narrow passage lighted by a single lanthorn swung on the wall. Under it stood Maluta, and farther on I saw the figure of a man sitting at a table with his back toward me. The light shone on me, and Maluta saw me grasp my weapon more tightly, and he laughed—his shrill little laugh.
“He sleeps, O my master,” he said, wagging his head; “he sleeps well—come and look at him.”
I thought the rogue had killed him, but a glance told me that the man slept heavily, as a drunken or a drugged person does. His head hung forward on his breast and his mouth was open, while he breathed deeply, and his arms hung limp at his sides. I drew a bunch of keys from his belt.
“Is that the door?” I asked Maluta, pointing at the end of the passage.
He nodded and I went swiftly forward. It was strongly secured with both locks and bars, but I removed the latter and found a key, in the guard’s bunch, to undo the former. Then I tapped upon the door and called the princess by name. At first there was no answer, nor indeed any sound within, though there was a grille in the upper half, doubtless to admit the air, and I was on the point of opening it when I heard a soft step on the other side, and then silence as though she listened.
“Princess,” I called gently, “Princess Daria—open the door, I pray you.”
I heard a little cry—quivering and soft and, I thought, joyful—and the door was opened.
“Is it thou?” she exclaimed eagerly.
A sudden joy filled my heart, I took a step forward flushed, expectant, forgetful of all but her and my love for her. But her cell was lighted, too, by a lanthorn, and as its rays fell on my face she retreated—not angrily, or even coldly—but with a sudden timidity that chilled me. After all, the welcome was not for me, but for her deliverer.
“Thanks be to the saints that I have found you, madame,” I said gravely, “though you were over ready to leave my house for this.”