cult if not impossible. There were processes of law in Austria
which suddenly became formidable to one in his position. But he drove
on, keeping a lookout for sign posts, aware that the girl beside him,
now that their danger was passed, had again assumed an uncompromising
silence which was not too favorable an indication of the state of her
mind and feelings toward him. He smiled inwardly. At least she could not
rob him of the moment when on the steps of the train he had held her in
his arms. He did not doubt that she was thinking of that moment also,
hating him the more cordially because she was so dependent on him. Did
she hate him? He stole a glance at her. She sat stiffly staring before
her into the night, a frown at her brows, her lips closed in a thin
line. Pride?

"Marishka," he ventured softly, "will you forgive me?"

Her figure grew more rigid.

"Herr Renwick----!" she gasped.

"I love you," he broke in. "You must know how much----"

"It is a pity that I have already gauged your capacity for devotion,"
she said bitterly.

"I _had_ to tell, Marishka----"

"Herr Renwick, I am already much in your debt. Add to my burden, if you
will, by keeping silence on a matter so painful----"

"Forgive me----"

"Never. You have betrayed me."

"I'll never give you up."

"You must. Circumstances have placed me in this false position. I am at
your mercy. I beg you to be silent."

"You will marry me, some day, Marishka," he asserted cheerfully.

"Never," scornfully. "Never. The House of Strahni, Herr Renwick, holds
honor high and loyalty even higher than honor----"

"There is another precept of the House of Strahni," he broke in calmly.
"Their women--where they give their lips----"

"Oh, you are intolerable! I abominate you!"

"And I--I still adore you," he whispered. "I shall always adore--and
serve."

"Thank God, the hour of your service nears its end," she said chokingly.

"Who knows?" he muttered.

But he made no further attempt to break through her reserve. She was too
greatly in his power. And so he drove in silence, passing through the
silent streets of Budweis without challenge and soon found himself upon
the main highroad to Prague, over which the two had traveled less than a
week ago in their hurried flight to Vienna. The moon had long since set,
but when they climbed the hills along the Moldau faint gray streaks upon
their right hand proclaimed the coming of the dawn. If Marishka was
weary she g