“Prudence, madame!” remonstrated Cyril. “I fear that in the morning we may be compelled to support our assumed characters by leaving you to carry your own luggage; but at present we are still civilised beings. That does not allow us to consider ourselves in safety, however.”
The Queen laughed and blushed, and they went on in silence along the muddy cart-track. The heaviness of the ground made their progress very difficult, and the ladies were manifestly relieved when the wood of which Olga had spoken was reached, and Cyril announced that they were to rest there for a few hours. He himself would have been inclined to press on at once; but he realised that the endurance of the party was limited by that of its feeblest members, and that it was better to rest now and start at daybreak than to undertake the greater fatigue of a night-journey, and perhaps find the ladies unable to proceed when in a hostile neighbourhood. Accordingly, he and Paschics hunted about in the wood until they came upon the clearing made by the woodcutters, where the poles which had been cut were piled up against one another to season. The shelter thus formed needed only to have its open ends filled in with branches to form a very passable hut for the ladies, and when the rugs had been spread on a carpet of dry leaves and twigs, the interior was voted by common consent to be positively luxurious. The Queen and Fräulein von Staubach took grateful possession of their new abode, while Cyril and Paschics camped outside, and in spite of the unwonted nature of the surroundings and the alarm of their position, there was not one of the party that did not sleep well.
It was one of Cyril’s enviable characteristics that he could awake at any hour he pleased, and this stood him in good stead the next morning, although the rest were scarcely disposed to rejoice in his possession of the faculty when he called them before daybreak. He hastened to explain, however, that they ought to be on the road as soon as it was fairly twilight, and that there was a good deal to do first, and they partook meekly of the frugal meal he served out, and awaited his orders.
“It is my painful duty to announce that we must lighten the ship,” he said. “We brought away all our luggage from the farm in order to puzzle the enemy, but we can’t carry it with us. It would be too heavy, and it would arouse suspicion. Everything that cannot be carried in your pockets, ladies, or in a large pocket-handkerchief, must be left behind.”
“But if the enemy find the things, it will help them to track us,” objected Fräulein von Staubach.
“I propose to bury everything we leave,” answered Cyril. “It is evident that this spot is not often visited now that the woodcutting is over, and the dead leaves and light soil are easy to move.”
“But you would not bury the Queen’s sable cloak?” in a tone of horror. “It was the Emperor of Scythia’s wedding present to her, and it is priceless.”
“Nonsense, Sophie!” said the Queen. “What is a fur cloak compared with honour and safety? You shall bury anything you like, Count—Arthur, I mean. We are all forgetting our noms de guerre.”
“We must change them again now,” said Cyril, “in accordance with our changed position. From this moment we are merely Thracian peasants. If you will call yourself Anna, madame, and Fräulein von Staubach Maria, M. Paschics shall be Nicolai, and I will be Ivan. The King we may call Sascha. May I entreat you all to speak nothing but Thracian when we are upon the road? As for you, madame, I fear you must pretend to be dumb. To be overheard speaking any language but Thracian would be fatal.”
“Very well,” said the Queen; “from this moment I am dumb.”