The Prince laughed lightly.
"Do you think," he said, "that your frail hands are stronger than mine?"
"Four hands," she replied, "are stronger than two. Besides, I am not so weak as, perhaps, you think."
"Very well," he replied, not in a mood to cavil about trivialities.
"When shall it be—to-night?"
"No; to-morrow night. You must get your rope to-morrow."
Again the Prince laughed quietly.
"I have the rope in my room now," he answered.
"You were very sure," she said softly.
"No, not sure. I was strong in hope. Is your door locked?"
"Yes," she replied in an agitated whisper. "But it is still early. Wait an hour or two."