e stood at nothing which might give, or keep for her, her
power over the duke. As I say, he took and gave not. Simultaneously,
Antoinette found herself entangled in his audacious schemes. Unwilling
to abandon him, bound to him by the chains of shame and hope, yet she
would not be a decoy, nor, at his bidding, lure me to death. Hence the
letters of warning she had written. Whether the lines she sent to Flavia
were inspired by good or bad feeling, by jealousy or by pity, I do not
know; but here also she served us well. When the duke went to Zenda, she
accompanied him; and here for the first time she learnt the full measure
of his cruelty, and was touched with compassion for the unfortunate
King. From this time she was with us; yet, from what she told me, I know
that she still (as women will) loved Michael, and trusted to gain
his life, if not his pardon, from the King, as the reward for her
assistance. His triumph she did not desire, for she loathed his crime,
and loathed yet more fiercely what would be the prize of it--his
marriage with his cousin, Princess Flavia.

At Zenda new forces came into play--the lust and daring of young Rupert.
He was caught by her beauty, perhaps; perhaps it was enough for him that
she belonged to another man, and that she hated him. For many days there
had been quarrels and ill will between him and the duke, and the scene
which I had witnessed in the duke's room was but one of many. Rupert's
proposals to me, of which she had, of course, been ignorant, in no
way surprised her when I related them; she had herself warned Michael
against Rupert, even when she was calling on me to deliver her from both
of them. On this night, then, Rupert had determined to have his will.
When she had gone to her room, he, having furnished himself with a key
to it, had made his entrance. Her cries had brought the duke, and there
in the dark room, while she screamed, the men had fought; and Rupert,
having wounded his master with a mortal blow, had, on the servants
rushing in, escaped through the window as I have described. The duke's
blood, spurting out, had stained his opponent's shirt; but Rupert, not
knowing that he had dealt Michael his death, was eager to finish the
encounter. How he meant to deal with the other three of the band, I know
not. I dare say he did not think, for the killing of Michael was not
premeditated. Antoinette, left alone with the duke, had tried to stanch
his wound, and thus was she busied t