"I have kept your secret twelve years; I will keep it still," said Cecil gravely. "Only leave Algeria at once."
A slight incident revealed the corporal's identity to the Princess Corona. By his bearing he had attracted the attention of the visitors to the camp, and on being admitted to the villa of the princess to restore a gold chain dropped carelessly in the road, he disclosed the little enamelled box, marked "Venetia," the gift of the child in the garden at Baden.
"That box is mine!" cried the princess. "I gave it! And you? You are my brother's friend? You are Bertie Cecil?"
"Petite reine!" he murmured.
Then he acknowledged who he was, not even for his brother's sake could he have lied to her; but he implored her to say nothing to the Seraph. "I was innocent, but in honour I can never give you or any living thing proof that this crime was not mine."
"He is either a madman or a martyr," she mused, when Cecil had left her. That he loved her was plain, and the time was not far distant when she should love him, and be willing to share any sacrifice love and honour might demand.
The hatred of Colonel Châteauroy for his corporal brought matters to a climax. Meeting Cecil returning from his visit to Venetia, Châteauroy could not refrain from saying insulting things concerning the princess.
"You lie!" cried Cecil; "and you know that you lie! Breathe her name once more, and, as we are both living men, I will have your life for your outrage!"
And as he spoke Cecil smote him on the lips.
Châteauroy summoned the guard, the corporal was placed under arrest, and brought to court-martial.