All that night the stone, menacingly balanced on the wall above the door, remained in its place. The brigands had no desire to court a useless death, and they could afford to wait.
At dawn Ellerey ascended to the roof of the tower and found Anton pacing its narrow limits to keep the warmth in his limbs.
"Nothing happened, Anton?"
"Nothing, Captain."
"You have helped your mistress into a desperate strait. How could you hope for anything else but failure?"
"The Princess has told you, Captain?"
"Aye, man, but that was a woman's hope—a brave one if you will, but there was no weighing of chances, no counting the cost in it. Was there nothing more than this desperate hope at the back of your mind, no sane man's reasoning to see the peril of it?"
"I am but a servant to obey," Anton answered. "Yet desperate ventures have succeeded, and we had honesty on our side, Captain. Ours is the just cause, and that counts for something."
"No wonder Princess Maritza's history is one of failure if her counsellors have advised after this manner," said Ellerey.
"Are you certain she has failed, Captain?" Anton asked, turning quickly toward him. The earnestness of the question, added to its seeming absurdity, was startling. Could there be any doubt of the failure?