ed and intercepted
by Marlanx watchers. Between the fierce jolts of the great cart he
managed to convey his fears to her.

It was she who had the solution. They might succeed in passing the gates
if they hid themselves in the bed of the cart, underneath the thick
canvas covering. The farmer lifted the cloth and they crawled down among
the melons. In this fashion they not only covered the remainder of the
distance, half stifled by the heat and half murdered by the
uncomfortable position, but passed through the gates and were taken
clattering down the streets toward the centre of town.

"To the Tower!" cried the anxious Truxton.

"Impossible!" shouted the farmer. "The streets are roped off and the
crowds are too great."

"Then let us out as near to the Tower as possible, cried the other.

"Here we are," cried the driver, a few minutes later, pulling up his
half dead oxen and leaping to the ground. He threw off the covering and
they lost no time in tumbling from their bed of melons to the
cobble-stone pavement of a narrow alley into which he had turned for
safety. "Through this passage!" he gasped, hoarse with excitement. "The
Tower is below. Follow me! My oxen will stand. I am going with you!" His
rugged face was aglow.

Off through the alley they hurried, King disdaining the pain his ankle
was giving him. They came to the crowded square a few minutes later. The
clock in the Cathedral pointed to twelve o'clock and after! The
catastrophe had not yet taken place; the people were laughing and
singing and shouting. They were in time. Everywhere they heard glad
voices crying out that the Prince was coming! It was the Royal band that
they heard through dinning ears!

"Great God!" cried Truxton, stopping suddenly and pointing with
trembling hand to a spot across the street and a little below where
they had pushed through the resentful, staring throng on the sidewalk.
"There she is! At the corner! Stop her!"

He had caught sight of Olga Platanova.

The first row of dragoons was already passing in front of her. Less than
two hundred feet away rolled the royal coach of gold! All this flashed
before the eyes of the distracted pair, who were now dashing frantically
into the open street, disregarding the shouts of the police and the
howls of the crowd.

"An anarchist!" shouted King hoarsely. He looked like one himself. "The
bomb! The bomb! Stop the Prince!"

Colonel Quinnox recognised this bearded, uncouth figure, and th