"Do you think you'll need to ask me twice to do anything for you, dear?"
He stood with his hands on her shoulders, his dark eyes gazing down at her hungrily. "Did you think I was never coming? I stayed behind on purpose. I felt that Sobrenski intended to prevent our talking together." Arithelli snatched eagerly at his words. They had given her the clue she wanted.
"Yes, that's it. It's dangerous for me if we are seen often together. I've done something so mad and foolish, Vardri, you must help me to put it right,—you can. Those letters you have written me saying all sorts of things against the Cause,—I left a piece of one about somewhere,—I don't know where,—and Sobrenski found it. He has just told me that in about half an hour's time before all the rest of them leave, he is going to send on one of the men in advance. He will get down to the town before us, go to my rooms and yours and collect all the letters that have passed between us; and use them, as then he will have what he has always wanted,—the proofs that we are what he would call traitors. And when he has these proofs, neither of us will be safe for an instant. It will mean death to both of us sooner or later. But even Sobrenski can't murder us without sufficient evidence. He will be obliged to make some formal parade of justice to put it all before the rest of the society. If he doesn't get our letters he will not have sufficient evidence."
"But if we go away together to-night, as we intended? We've got a start. We can take the best horses. That is the best plan."
Arithelli shook her head. "Listen to me, dear, and believe in a woman's wisdom for once. If we go to-night and together, we are bound to be recaptured before we are out of Barcelona. By doing what I suggest we avoid suspicion, we give ourselves breathing-space, time to arrange a disguise, to think of all sorts of things that we have overlooked. We have everything in our favour to-night, Sobrenski does not know you are here yet. If you go soon you will get away without his having seen you at all. Here is the key of my room. Go there first, and you will find all your own letters in a wooden box in my big trunk. That isn't locked. Open it and burn them all. Then go on to your own room, do the same with yours and stay there. If they raid my room, they will find nothing suspicious. You could pretend you were ill, and that's the only reason you haven't come tonight, and I am here doing my work as usual. Nothing could be less suspicious. Then when they are off their guard we can escape."
The minutes were flying. Death thrusting his lean face before the rosy face of Love. Sobrenski's phrase sounded in her ears like the tolling of a bell. "You have an hour free to do your work." An hour, only an hour! How long had they been there already? Time and all else alike seemed blurred. All her will must be concentrated upon one thing—to make Vardri leave her as quickly as possible. Yet she dare not show a sign of haste or emotion lest he should suspect something amiss and refuse to go.
"Dear, it is a wonderful plan this, of yours," Vardri was saying. "But how can I leave you here alone with these devils? It makes me cold to think of it."
"You'll leave me because I shall be safer alone. You must see that, mon ami." She clung to him, putting up her face towards his. Every art of womanhood must be used to weave a spell to send him from her and to save him. "Will you not do as I ask you?"
"I'll do anything in the world for you," the boy broke out eagerly;
"I'd have my hand cut off to save you a minute's pain."
"I know, mon ami. And this is such a little thing, and so much depends upon its being done quickly."