the same as that of her great
brother. I should not tell it to you, but she has never despaired since
you came."

John's fingers closed convulsively upon the large muscular hand of
Suzanne and in the darkness the woman's grim face relaxed into a smile.

"You are holding my hand not that of Mademoiselle Julie," she said.

"Your words bring me such joy, Suzanne, that I forgot, but I must speak
to your mistress."

"You cannot. It is impossible. She is watched more closely than ever."

"But there is news that she must know! Then you must tell it to her!"

"What news? You surely don't mean that they will try her on this
ridiculous charge of being a spy!"

"No, not that, Suzanne, but they're preparing to send her and you away."

"And glad we both will be to leave this hateful castle of Zillenstein."

"But it's not that you will fare better. There will be no chance of
freedom now. You are to be sent into the higher mountains in the
wilderness to a hunting lodge belonging to Auersperg. You will be hidden
from all but a few of his most trusted followers."

"Then we're not afraid. We shall even be glad to go there, anywhere from
this terrible place. We do not fear the woods, my mistress and I. I can
think they're more friendly than those old stone walls above us."

"But tell her this, Suzanne, I pray you, that I shall follow her there."

"How?"

"I don't yet know, but I shall find a way. Tell her, Suzanne, that I'll
never leave her so long as I'm alive."

The eyes of the grim woman softened singularly, as she gazed in the dusk
at the young man. A devotion such as his, a devotion so evident, would
have moved a heart of stone. Her young mistress was dearer than anyone
else in the world to her, dearer than her own father, and her stern
spirit relaxed when she saw that another could love her in a different
way, but as well.

"I'll tell her," she said, "but I tell you that 'tis needless. She knows
already that wherever she goes you will follow. Does that bring any
comfort to your soul, Mr. Scott?"

"Aye, Suzanne, it fills it with thankfulness. Don't forget to tell her
that she will go soon. Von Arnheim, Pappenheim and Kratzek are her
friends, but they can't prevent it if they would. It may be too that
they will not know when or where she goes."

"She shall hear everything you say and, remember, that she has a brave
heart. She has less fear for herself than for you."

She slipped away in the darkness and John went