“It is still time, Mr. Godall, to make good your escape into thraldom. And for you too, Major Hammersmith. Reflect well before you take another step; and if your hearts say no—here are the cross-roads.”
“Lead on, sir,” said the Prince. “I am not the man to go back from a thing once said.”
“Your coolness does me good,” replied their guide. “I have never seen any one so unmoved at this conjuncture; and yet you are not the first whom I have escorted to this door. More than one of my friends has preceded me, where I knew I must shortly follow. But this is of no interest to you. Wait me here for only a few moments; I shall return as soon as I have arranged the preliminaries of your introduction.”
And with that the young man, waving his hand to his companions, turned into the court, entered a doorway and disappeared.
“Of all our follies,” said Colonel Geraldine in a low voice, “this is the wildest and most dangerous.”
“I perfectly believe so,” returned the Prince.
“We have still,” pursued the Colonel, “a moment to ourselves. Let me beseech your Highness to profit by the opportunity and retire. The consequences of this step are so dark, and may be so grave, that I feel myself justified in pushing a little farther than usual the liberty which your Highness is so condescending as to allow me in private.”
“Am I to understand that Colonel Geraldine is afraid?” asked his Highness, taking his cheroot from his lips, and looking keenly into the other’s face.
“My fear is certainly not personal,” replied the other proudly; “of that your Highness may rest well assured.”
“I had supposed as much,” returned the Prince, with undisturbed good humour; “but I was unwilling to remind you of the difference in our stations. No more—no more,” he added, seeing Geraldine about to apologise, “you stand excused.”