door, through which the scholar must enter, and his tongue and feet in
readiness to warn her or save himself, according as the pressure of
danger directed the one or the other step.

Meanwhile his ears were on the stretch to catch what she did. He heard
her try the door of the room. It was locked. He heard her shake it. Then
he guessed that she fetched a key, for after an interval, which seemed
an age, he caught the grating of the wards in the lock. After that, she
was quiet so long, that but for the apprehensions of Basterga's coming,
which weighed on his coward soul, he must have gone up in sheer jealousy
so see what she was doing.

Not that he distrusted her. Even while he waited, and while the thing
hung in the balance, he smiled to think how cleverly he had contrived
it. On the side of the authorities he would gain favour by delivering
the letters: on the other side, if Basterga retained power to harm, it
was not he who had taken the letters, nor he who would be exposed to the
first blast of vengeance--but the girl. The blame for her, the credit
for him! From the nettle danger his wits had plucked the flower safety.
But for his fears he could have chuckled; and then he heard her leave
the room, and relock the door. With a gasp of relief, he retired a pace
or two, and waited, his eyes fixed on the doorway through which she must
enter.

She was long in coming, and when she came his hand, extended to receive
the letters, fell by his side, the whispered question died on his lips.
Her face told him that she had failed. It might have told him also that
she had built far more on the attempt than she had let him perceive. But
what was that to him? It was enough for him that she had not the
letters. He could have torn her with his hands. "Where are they? Where
are they?" he cried, advancing upon her. "You have not got them?"

"Got them?" And then she straightened herself, and with a passionate
glance at the door, "No! And he has not come in time to take me in the
act, it seems. As I have no doubt you planned, you villain! That I might
be more and deeper in his power!"

"No! No!" he cried, recoiling. "I never thought of it!"

"Yes, yes!" she retorted.

He wrung his hands. How was he to make her understand? "I swear," he
cried, and he fell on his knees with uplifted hands. "I swear on my
knees I thought of no such thing. The tale I told you was true! True,
every word of it! And the letters----"

"There are no lette