mountains
instead of through the city, and given escort to Dassas, one hundred
miles east. That step will not be taken until the way is, perfectly
clear. I tell you, sir, you cannot hope to escape if you leave the
monastery now. The mountains are full of soldiers every night."

"I didn't say anything about an escape, did I? On the contrary, I want
to give myself up to her. Then she can have Gabriel thrown over the
castle wall and say to Bolaroz, 'Here is your man; I've gained the ten
years of grace.' That's the point, Quinnox; can't you see it? And I want
to say to you now, I'm going whether you consent or refuse. I'd just as
soon be in jail down there as up here, anyhow. The only favor I have to
ask of you is that you do the best you can to get me safely to her. I
must talk with her before I go back to the Tower."

"God help me, sir, I cannot take you to her," groaned Quinnox, trying to
control his nervous apprehension. "I have sworn to her that I will keep
you from all harm, and it would be to break faith with her if I led you
into that mob down there."

"I respect your oath, my friend, but I am going, just the same. I'll see
her, too, if I have to shoot every man who attempts to prevent me. I'm
desperate, man, desperate! She's everything in the world to me, and I'll
die before I'll see her suffer."

Quinnox calmly placed his hands on the other's shoulders, and, looking
him in the eye, said quietly:

"Her suffering now is as nothing compared to what it will be if you go
back to the Tower. You forget how much pain she is enduring to avoid
that very suffering. If you care for my mistress, sir, add no weight to
the burden she already carries. Remain here, as she desires. You can be
of no service down there. I implore you to be considerate."

It was an eloquent appeal, and it struck home. Lorry wavered, but his
resolution would not weaken. He argued, first with Quinnox, then with
himself, finally returning to the reckless determination to brave all
and save her from herself. The soldier begged him to listen to reason,
implored him to reconsider, at last turning in anger upon the stubborn
American with a torrent of maledictions. Lorry heard him through and
quietly, unswervingly announced that he was ready to leave the monastery
at any time his guide cared to depart. Quinnox gave up in despair at
this, gazing hopelessly at the man he had sworn to protect, who insisted
on placing his head in the lion's jaw. He sat down