"It means that the cunning, treacherous Coryon has played a trick upon us all, and made you prisoners. Your friend and our beloved princess have been carried off, the king himself is kept a prisoner in his room, and so are many of his ministers." "And Monella and Ergalon?" "Monella was away in Myrlanda, as you know, and so has escaped; and Ergalon--who is free too, but in hiding--has sent a trusty messenger to warn him." "And you?" "I am virtually a prisoner too. That is, I am forbidden to leave the palace. But I am free to go about within it. The whole place is full of Coryon's soldiers." "Can you tell me how it was managed?" "The 'loving cup' was drugged. All who partook of it fell into an unnaturally heavy sleep. You remember almost every one throughout the palace drank some, in honour of your friend and our poor princess. Alas! alas! My dear, my loved Ulama!" She sobbed bitterly, while Jack marched excitedly up and down the place. "Is there no hope--nothing to be done?" he exclaimed despairingly. "There is only one thing," was answered in a low, hesitating tone. "What is that?" he asked eagerly. "I have come to try to aid you. If you wrap up in this cloak and go out quietly now, while it is half dark, you may get clear out of the palace unobserved. One of my maids is waiting for me without, and will show you the way. I warned her of my plan, and she is to be trusted." "What! And leave you here in my place to suffer Coryon's vengeance? Why, Zonella--dear, kind friend--what must you think of me?" "I can think of nothing else," she answered simply. "And for me--I care not. Whatever may befall me, _you_ will be able to get away; perhaps even to serve your friend." Jack took her hand in his, not noticing that she seemed to shiver under the touch. "Such an offer is too kind, too much, my dear, good friend," he said. "It cannot be; we must try----" "For _my_ sake, then," she exclaimed impulsively. "I would rather die myself than see you carried off to yonder dens. Or"--she paused confusedly, and then went on--"for your friend's sake. Think! Consider! Do you refuse merely from any thought about me? Think what you might be able to do for others--for your friend, for Ulama!" Templemore passed his hand over his face; the tears were coming into his eyes. When he tried to speak again, he felt half choking. "You are a noble girl, Zonella," he answered with emotion; "and when you appeal to me on _their_ behalf you cannot know how hard it is to me to stay on here, knowing that I have the chance--just the chance--of saving them. But it cannot be, dear friend, it cannot be; but--I thank you. My whole heart thanks you." He pressed her hand, and turned sorrowfully away. Presently, she spoke again, this time in a different tone; indeed, her voice sounded hard and strained.