They obeyed, and I walked fearlessly across the room.
“Let one man stir, and you all die,” I continued as I pushed between the guards and wrenched the princess from her cousin’s nerveless arms. “Now, out of here, all of you!”
In sheer relief, like men awakened from a trance, they bolted through the door.
“Fine work,” Poblath remarked, himself greatly relieved, “but you should have detained them all as prisoners.”
“Good riddance of bad rubbish,” I replied, “and besides, who knows how soon one of them might have moved, and not have been blasted, and thus have spoiled my entire bluff?”
The princess clung to my arms. Then, raising her eyes to mine with a smile, she said: “Again, you have saved me, Myles Cabot, and again I am yours.”
“And I am always yours, my princess,” I replied.
She stamped her foot. Then said sadly: “Ever you remind me that I am a princess. And as a princess I must demand more respect from you, Myles Cabot.”
Gently I released her, and she lingeringly departed, leaving me alone with Poblath. I felt let down and futile, the victim of an anticlimax. What next?
And then ensued a period of waiting. Days passed, and I still remained an inmate of the Kuana jail. No word from Princess Lilla. No word from King Kew. No word of Prince Yuri, although rumor had it that he had fled into Formia, fearing the wrath of the king.