‘I’m so tired,’ she said, ‘so tired. I have fought him for two hours to-night. Forgive me. I will be brave, my lord.’ I had determined on a cold business-like manner. I went as straight to the point as a busy man in his city office. ‘You know the plan? You consent to it?’ I asked. ‘Yes. I think I understand it. It is good of you, my lord. For you may run great danger through me.’ That was indeed true, and in more senses than one. ‘I do for you what you did not hesitate to do for me,’ said I. ‘Yes,’ said Phroso in a very low whisper. ‘You pretended; well then, now I pretend.’ My voice sounded not only cold, but bitter and unpleasant. ‘I think it may succeed,’ I continued. ‘He won’t dare to take any extreme steps against me. I don’t see how he can prevent our going.’ ‘He will let us go, you think?’ ‘I don’t know how he can refuse. And where will you go?’ ‘I have some friends at Athens, people who knew my father.’ ‘Good. I’ll take you there and--’ I paused. ‘I’ll--I’ll take you there and--’ Again I paused; I could not help it. ‘And leave you there in safety,’ I ended at last in a gruff harsh whisper. ‘Yes, my lord. And then you will go home in safety?’ ‘Perhaps. That doesn’t matter.’ ‘Yes, it does matter,’ said she, softly. ‘For I would not be in safety unless you were.’ ‘Ah, Phroso, don’t do that,’ I groaned inwardly. ‘Yes, you will go back in safety, back to your own land, back to the lady--’ ‘Never mind--’ I began. ‘Back to the lady whom my lord loves,’ whispered Phroso. ‘Then you will forget this troublesome island and the troublesome--the troublesome people on it.’ Her face was no more than a foot from mine--pale, with sad eyes and a smile that quivered on trembling lips; the fairest face in the world that I had seen or believed any man to have seen; and her hand rested in mine. There may live men who would have looked over her head and not in those eyes--saints or dolts; I was neither; not I. I looked. I looked as though I should never look elsewhere again, nor cared to live if I could not look. But Phroso’s hand was drawn from mine and her eyes fell. I had to end the silence. ‘I shall go straight to Mouraki to-morrow morning,’ said I, ‘and tell him you have agreed to be my wife; that you will come with me under the care of Kortes and his sister, and that we shall be married on the first opportunity.’ ‘But he knows about--about the lady you love.’ ‘It won’t surprise Mouraki to hear that I am going to break my faith with--the lady I love,’ said I. ‘No,’ said Phroso, refusing resolutely to look at me again. ‘It won’t surprise Mouraki.’ ‘Perhaps it wouldn’t surprise any one.’ Phroso made no comment on this; and the moment I had said it I heard a voice below, a voice I knew very well. ‘What’s the ladder here for, my friend?’ it asked. ‘It enables one to ascend or descend, my lord,’ answered Kortes’s grave voice, without the least touch of irony.