“Oh, nonsense! she is only a child, and what can she tell the ruffians outside but that I am well guarded? Desire the ruffians on our side to show themselves, if you please.”
“The young lady will be frightened,” objected the doctor.
“All the better for her—teach her a lesson,” was the testy answer. “What, am I to command twice?” he rattled his stick on the stones. “I wish my guard to be visible for an instant.”
For the moment Helene felt like Fitz-James at the instant of his introduction to Roderick Dhu, for at the word of command, reluctantly uttered by Dr Gregorescu, the belt of shrubbery seemed to be suddenly alive with stalwart Dardanians. They sprang up from their lairs in the underwood or started out from behind trees, and stood in full view for a moment, then, at a wave of the doctor’s hand, disappeared again, while the self-styled Prince Shishman improved the occasion.
“You have seen how thoroughly I am protected, young lady,” he said impressively. “Now I do not think, from your face, that you are in the pay of my cruel enemies outside, but if you should be questioned, you may say that these faithful fellows, all trained fighters from their cradles, keep guard over me day and night, and would rejoice at the chance of a fight. You may say also that Dr Gregorescu and the indoor servants are well armed, and that there are underground——”
“Is not your Highness afraid of giving publicity to the exact details of our defences?” asked the doctor smoothly, and Cyril nodded.
“You do well to remind me of prudence, Gregorescu. But I think the young lady, at any rate, will not penetrate within our walls again, for she will remember that to do so would cause great anxiety and pain of mind to a cruelly persecuted man. If you will be good enough to send for the key of the small gate, we will let her out, and see that the door is properly fastened.”
“Pray don’t trouble yourself, Highness,” said Dr Gregorescu hastily. “I will conduct the young lady to the gate.”
“No, Gregorescu. It is not that I distrust your vigilance, but I must satisfy myself that the gate is properly locked. It is a perfect nightmare to me. I am thinking of having it bricked up.”
The doctor offered no further objection, and Helene was conducted to the gate in solemn procession. Cyril bade her a lofty farewell, the bolts grated home, and, dazed and bewildered, she found herself outside.