He expected an outburst of indignation; but something in his tone stirred the Queen’s curiosity, for she lifted her tired eyes to his, and asked, “Why for your sake, Count?”
“What do you imagine my feelings would be if I had brought you here to die in the snow, madame? I should be worse than a murderer.”
“You expect me to consider you, when you have no consideration for me,” she said, half-smiling, half-pouting, looking for the moment like her old self.
“If it would relieve your feelings to abuse me a little more, madame, pray do so.”
But this time the bait did not take. “I can scarcely keep my eyes open,” she complained, “and I can’t talk. I forget what I want to say before the words reach my lips.”
The cold was evidently benumbing her faculties, and Cyril became seriously alarmed. He continued to talk as he dragged her on, doing everything in his power to force an answer from her, keeping her awake by the sheer strength of his will, as in the case of a sufferer from some narcotic poison, until he felt both her hands clutching feebly at his arm.
“I would keep up if I could. I really can’t,” she murmured, as her head fell against his shoulder. Then her clasp relaxed, and she slid down on the snow at his feet, overcome by the deadly sleep, or rather stupor, brought on by intense cold. The rest of the party were so far in advance that it was of no use to call upon them for help. Cyril tried to lift the Queen’s senseless form; but, tired and numbed as he was, the dead-weight was too much for him. At last he passed his arm round her waist, and succeeded in raising her from the ground, and thus, half-carrying and half-dragging her, resumed the ascent. A few minutes later he came suddenly upon Fräulein von Staubach and Nathan, whom he could not see in the darkness and the falling snow until he was close upon them, standing despairingly in front of a high gate.
“It is locked,” the Jew was saying, “and the house is some way from it. The innkeeper cannot hear us, and if he could, he would not come down to open it.”
“Then climb over and wake him up,” said Cyril peremptorily. “Make any noise you like—break the windows if necessary—to make him come here and let us in. I will settle with him afterwards.”
Under ordinary conditions, Nathan would have pronounced the gate impossible to climb; but now he made a valiant effort, and succeeded in gaining the top. To fall over on the other side was comparatively easy, and when the obstacle had thus been effectually, if ungracefully, surmounted, he ran up the path to the house.