But she dared not yield to the joy of reunion. She freed herself, and began to talk. Not a moment must be lost in telling him her story, the story of all the dread and horror she had lived through. She knew she dared not risk delay, or her last vestige of courage would vanish into thin air.
She poured out the story of the machinations, in the toils of which they had been caught. She told him the story of the jeopardy in which he stood; of the power which had been transferred from Berlin to bring about his final destruction. She told him of the death sentence which had been passed upon her by the terrible Von Berger, and how, in the last moment of her despair, succor had been proffered in the last quarter from which it could have reasonably been expected. And then came the story of her pledge.
To the long story the old man listened with the closest attention. He gave no sign, he offered no interruption. At its conclusion Vita paused, breathlessly awaiting the verdict in the man's luminous eyes. She watched them. She searched them, seeking that faint spark which might hold out the smallest hope. She was living for that alone—now.
The Prince stood for a moment, his eyes gazing past her at the sides of the travel-stained car. Then one long thin hand went up to his forehead, and his soft hat was thrust back on his head. The hand pressed down upon his brows and moved across them, as though brushing aside some sense of weariness. His eyes shifted their gaze towards the man standing near the car. They took in the square, burly figure from the crown of its hat to the soles of its feet. Then they came back to Vita, and the smile in them suggested a final sympathetic decision overriding the natural antagonistic feelings towards the man whom he looked upon as his enemy.
"Where is he—Von Salzinger?" he demanded.
Vita caught her breath. It was the crisis.
"Here, father. He drove the car."
The Prince's eyes again sought the man. Then he spoke, and the tone of his voice eased the woman's tension.
"You have done me a service, Herr von Salzinger. A service I could hardly have looked for. It is to be paid for, I understand, and the price is high. However, the risks you have taken, the sacrifices you have made are doubtless great, from your point of view. Therefore I can only—thank you. Come. The vessel should be lying off by this time. What will you do with the car?"
Von Salzinger stepped forward. The night was dark, and it was impossible to observe the expression of his face.