“Ah,” said Zoe, “if you had talked like this before, we might have done it, but now it is too late. To escape now would be like rats leaving a sinking ship.”
“Then it is my fault—my cursed pride? Look here, Princess, have pity upon me. Do you want me to go to my death knowing that I have brought you two into all this?”
“Oh, no!” said Zoe quickly; “I ought not to have put it upon you. Eirene would never have turned back, even at Bashi Konak, and I could not have let her go on alone. Nothing would have made us stay behind, so that may comfort you.”
“Pretty comfort!” he growled. “The facts are the same.”
“Oh, but it is not your fault,” responded Zoe, with such evident conviction of the efficacy of her consolation that he attempted no further remonstrance. He was miserably uneasy at the prospect of the future, and hailed even the necessity of a farther journey, when the monastery had been reached, as a means of banishing thought. Admiral Essiter had sent strict orders that Lieutenant Cotway and Mr Suter were to rejoin the Magniloquent that night, and Wylie set out with an escort to conduct them to the edge of the insurgents’ country. Shortly before reaching the point at which they were to part company, Lieutenant Cotway requested Mr Suter to ride a short distance ahead, much to the disgust of that promising officer, and drew close to Wylie.
“Old Point Seven is awfully cut up about the Princesses,” he said. “Can nothing be done to get them away?”
“Nothing. I’ve tried again to-night,” groaned Wylie.
“Well, look here. I presume, when the smash comes, we shall be round somewhere to pick up the pieces. Afraid we can’t do anything for you—you see that?” Wylie nodded, “but the admiral will stretch a good many points to save the ladies. Now can you suggest anything?”
“Nothing short of carrying them off by force would really be effectual,” said Wylie bitterly.
“No last resort? no way of appealing to their better feelings and getting rid of them in that way? Bright idea! why not kidnap the baby?”