What he saw froze the blood in his veins, and caused the few white hairs on his head to stand stiffly up with his great fright. The duke was seated at his window, and the moonlight played and glittered on a long, slender knife that he held in his hand. Old Gando's knees knocked together, and he fled the spot. Of one thing he was very sure. Florimel without loss of time should place himself far beyond the reach of his wicked uncle. Each added moment increased the prince's danger. Soon escape might be too late. Before he went to warn the sleeping prince he secured the bow and quiver of arrows that had been intrusted to his care by the late king. He hastily provided himself with a smock, loose cap, and long trousers of coarse cloth such as children of poor peasants wear. [Illustration] With these in his trembling arms, breathless from his exertions and the great excitement under which he labored, he entered Florimel's bedchamber, and closed the door noiselessly behind him. With his fair head resting on his curved arm, Florimel slept. Gando gave a great sigh of relief when he heard his gentle breathing. He flew to the bedside, and straightway roused the slumbering prince from his dreams. [Illustration] "Oh, master, my dear young master!" he cried with his voice broken by sobs. "Rouse yourself, I beg of you, and go hence! Do not delay, or you may be too late. Your cruel uncle this very moment is plotting your death!" Florimel sprang up in bed, and tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. "But where shall I go, good Gando?" he asked. "That I know not," said the old man. "The further you go the better. You must leave behind you the boundaries of the kingdom. See, I have brought these peasant's clothes for you to wear." "Nay, I still have my prince's attire," said Florimel. "That will not serve," said Gando. "If you donned it you would be quickly recognized, and your uncle would gain knowledge of you to your swift undoing." He assisted the bewildered Florimel to dress, swung across his back the quiver of arrows, and handed him the bow. "This was your godmother's gift," he said, "and it might aid you." But, though Gando urged Florimel not to take the time, the latter printed something on a card which he tacked upon the outside of the door before they left the place. As they fled toward a secret exit they heard down the corridor the stealthy tread of feet. The duke snarled like a wild beast as he read the lines: "FAREWELL, DEAR UNCLE! KEEP YOUR EDGED TOOL FOR FATTED SWINE!" "Fly!" old Gando cried, as he thrust Florimel out into the lonely, starlit night. "Oh, my dear young master, fly for your life!"