"Captains Boris and Jorian, officers of the Prince's bodyguard."
"Let Captains Boris and Jorian approach and deliver their message."
"With whom are we in speech?" cried the unmistakable voice of Boris, the long man.
"With the Princess Joan of Hohenstein, Governor of the city of Courtland," said Joan firmly.
"Come on, Boris; those Courtland knaves will not shoot us now. That is the voice of Joan of the Sword Hand. There can be no treachery where she is."
"Ho, below there!" cried Joan. "Shine a light on them from the upper sally port."
The lanterns flashed out, and there, immediately below her, Joan beheld Boris and Jorian saluting as of old, with the simultaneous gesture which had grown so familiar to her during the days at Isle Rugen. She was moved to smile in spite of the soberness of the circumstances.
"What news bring you, good envoys?"
"The best of news," they said with one accord, but stopped there as if they had no more to say.
"And that news is——"