“But if the thief is a woman and she loves you, she would naturally be my enemy, and seek to overthrow me,” argued the Princess logically.
“It is my fault,” I said. “I regret the incident, and seek your forgiveness, Léonie. I had no idea that spies and thieves surrounded me, as apparently they do, or I would have destroyed it instead of keeping it as a cherished relic of one of the few romantic incidents of my life.”
“You w’ere very foolish to keep it, just as it was foolish of me to have written it,” she observed. “Cannot you see how compromised I am by it? I have offered to betray to you a secret of State, a secret known only to kings, emperors, and their immediate advisers, in return for your love. I am self-condemned,” she added wildly.
“But into whose hands has the letter passed?” I inquired, now quite convinced of the extreme gravity of the situation.
“Into the possession of a man who is my most bitter enemy in all the world. Ah, you don’t know, Gerald, how I am suffering!”
She placed her hand upon her brow, and stood rigid and motionless.
“Why?”
“Because this man, with the evidence of my treason in his possession, is endeavouring to force me into a hateful bondage. To save myself,” she added hoarsely, “I must obey, or else—”
“Or else what?” I inquired, looking at her in astonishment.
“Or else escape exposure and ruin by another method, more swift and more to be trusted.”