“I can trust you?”
“To my life’s end, my love.” Her hands were clasped in his now. “But you shall not come with us, you shall not share my fortunes except by your own free will and wish. My love is too true to lead you selfishly away from your greater destiny.”
Her eyes were ever looking into his. “I know you are true,” she said at last. “Ah! how I wish I could tell—could see the light beyond this darkness.” She turned away and leaned against the carved mantel, bowing her head on her crossed arms. So for many seconds they stayed in silence, Minna from the far end of the room watching anxiously for the decision which might mean so much to her.
Ruperta raised her head. “Oh, how I loathe this life!” she cried passionately. “How I hate the cold false hearts that surround me here. Am I never to know anything but indifference, and cold-blooded scheming and deceit? Am I fit for nothing but to be pushed about, joyless and hopeless, on this pitiless old intriguer’s chessboard? I will not endure it; I will not. It shall end. He has threatened me. He shall see I am not to be threatened with impunity. If my father is weak, that is no reason why I should submit. I will go from this hated life. Ludovic, I will go with you.”
As she turned impulsively towards him, he met her.
“Ruperta,” he said, “you must go for love of me, or you will repent this act.”
For love of him, of a poor Lieutenant of Cavalry. And she a Princess, only child of a royal house. Truly the plunge was into darkness. Repentance? Could she think of that now? Poor girl, with all her pride and beauty and imperiousness, her fate looked gloomy enough but for the twin stars that seemed to light her way, freedom and love. She put out her hand. “Yes,” she replied simply. “I will go for love of you.”
Their lips met, then he said, “Come, then, dearest, we have no time to lose.”
The hasty preparations for the journey were soon made while the two men waited below, where soon without mishap Ruperta and Minna joined them, and when Ompertz had, as far as possible, removed the evidence of their flight, the four set off warily across the park. They reached the travelling carriage in safety and with no sign of pursuit. It had been arranged that de Gayl should ride on in advance and take counsel with certain friends of Ludovic’s, and, if thought advisable, announce his approach.
So he gave up the reins to Ompertz and hurried off towards the city where his horse waited ready saddled. Ompertz whipped up the horses, and so the momentous flight began.