he freed her. "That would be to confess before you are
accused," he reminded her. "We do not know that Niburg told. He was
doomed anyhow. To tell would help nothing. The letter, of course, was in
code?"

"Yes."

She sat down again, fighting for composure.

"I am not very brave," she said. "It was unexpected. In a moment I shall
be calmer. You must not think that I regret the risk. I have always been
proud to do my best for you."

That touched him. In the firelight, smiling wanly at him, she was very
like the girl who had attracted him years before. Her usual smiling
assurance was gone. She looked sad, appealing. And she was right. She
had always done her best for him. But he was cautious, too.

"I owe you more than I can tell you," he said. "It is the sort of debt
that can never be paid. Your coming here was a terrible risk. Something
urgent must have brought you."

She pushed back her heavy hair restlessly.

"I was anxious. And there were things I felt you should know."

"What things?"

"The truth about the King's condition, for one. He is dying. The
bulletins lie. He is no better."

"Why should the bulletins lie?"

"Because there is a crisis. You know it. But you cannot know what we
know--the living in fear, the precautions, everything."

"So!" said Karl uneasily. "But the Chancellor assured me--" He stopped.
It was not yet time to speak of the Chancellor's visit.

"The Chancellor! He lies, of course. How bad things are you may judge
when I tell you that a hidden passage from the Palace has been opened
and cleared, ready for instant flight."

It was Karl's turn to be startled. He rose, and stood staring down at
her. "Are you certain of that?"

"Certain!" She laughed bitterly. "The Terrorists Revolutionists, they
call themselves--are everywhere. They know everything, see everything.
Mettlich's agents are disappearing one by one. No one knows where, but
all suspect. Student meetings are prohibited. The yearly procession of
veterans is forbidden, for they trust none, even their old soldiers. The
Council meets day after day in secret session."

"But the army--"

"They do not trust the army."

Karl's face was grave. Something of the trouble in Livonia he had known.
But this argued an immediate crisis.

"On the King's death," the Countess said, "a republic will be declared.
The Republic of Livonia! The Crown Prince will never reign."

She shivered, but Karl was absorbed in the situation.

"Incred