immered between the greenery
and I stepped into an open clearing in full view of a cottage, the
light of which fell obliquely across the turf through a warped or
cracked window-shutter.

"Camillo!"--it was the Princess's voice, half imperious, half
pleading; and from beyond the angle of the cottage wall came the
noise of a latch shaken. "Open to me, Camillo, or by the Mother of
Christ I will blow the door in! I have a gun, Camillo, and I swear
to you!"

The challenge was not answered. Crouching almost on all fours I
sprang across the ray of light and gained the wall's shadow. There,
as I drew breath, I heard the latch shaken again, more impatiently.

"Camillo!"

The bolt was drawn. Peering around the angle of the wall, I saw the
light fall full on her face as the door opened and she stepped into
the cottage.

CHAPTER XXIII.

ORDEAL AND CHOOSING.

"Thou coward! Yet
Art living? canst not, wilt not find the road
To the great palace of magnificent death?--
Though thousand ways lead to his thousand doors
Which day and night are still unbarr'd for all."
NAT. LEE.--_Oedipus_.

"No man"--I am quoting my father--"can be great, or even wise, or
even, properly speaking, a man at all, until he has burnt his boats";
but I imagine that those who achieve wisdom and greatness burn their
boats deliberately and not--as did I, next moment--upon a sudden wild
impulse.

My excuse is, the door was already closing behind the Princess.
I knew she had tracked the Prince Camillo and his confessor, and that
these two were within the cottage. I knew nothing of their business,
save that it must be shameful, since she who had detected and would
prevent it chose to hide her knowledge even from Marc'antonio and
Stephanu. Then much rather (you may urge) would she choose to hide
it from me. The objection is a sound one, had I paused to consider
it; but (fortunately or unfortunately, as you may determine) I did
not. She had stepped into peril. The door was closing behind her:
in another couple of seconds it would be bolted again. I sprang for
it, hurled myself in through the entry, and there, pulling myself
erect, stared about me.

Four faces returned my stare; four faces, and all dismayed as though
a live bombshell had dropped through the doorway. To the priest,
whom my impact had flung aside against the wall, I paid no attention.
My eyes fast