"But, my Lord—"
"You owe no further allegiance to the cause you have striven for. You can depart in all honor. The cause is annihilated."
"I know, my Lord, I know; still, I cannot leave Sturatzberg."
"Somehow I expected to find you difficult to persuade," said Lord Cloverton, rising. "I have no time to argue with you; I will send someone else to do that. I hope to find you more tractable when I return."
He went out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. Ellerey raised himself on the couch, wincing with the pain his arm gave him, but determined to balk the Ambassador while he had the opportunity. It was evident that if he remained there Lord Cloverton would force him to this journey, and he was too weak to offer any real resistance, but once in the streets he could hide and wait, and seek Maritza in every corner of the city until—
The door opened again, and closed. Ellerey's back was toward it, and he did not turn. It was only a servant, probably, who would go away presently.
"Desmond!"
A few hurried steps, the quick rustle of a dress, and then a figure was kneeling by the couch, and a head was pillowed on his breast.
"Desmond!"
For a moment he did not speak; he could not. His confusion returned, and seemed to overwhelm him. Surely he was still dreaming?