“Open the door, Despina! it is I. The lock will not work. Unfasten the bolt. Are you all asleep?”
Saved as by a miracle! Danaë left Janni on the ground, and ran joyfully to the gate, where she struggled vainly with the lock, while the Prince demanded impatiently why the door was not opened.
“It is I, lord—Eurynomé; and the bolts are not fastened, but the key will not turn.”
“The key? What are you doing with the key? Where is Despina? She knows how to open it.”
“Alas, lord! I found it in the door. An evil fate has overtaken Despina.”
“Holy Basil! what do you mean, girl? Call Mariora, then. What has happened? Will you fumble to all eternity?”
“Lord, there is no one to call.” In spite of herself, tears were very near Danaë’s voice. “There came men——”
“Men? what men? What did they do? Open the door, girl! What of my wife—of the Lady?”
“The little lord is safe, lord.”
The words were spoken very low, and they were downed by the noise of a vigorous assault on the door. Evidently Prince Romanos had called the sentry to his help, for the stout planks gave way with a crash, and he burst in. “Where is your mistress?” he cried fiercely, seizing Danaë by the shoulder.