"I will not wait an hour," she cried. "I cannot wait an hour." "Then I will ride and bring you word. You must not go," he urged. "Nay, if I go alone I will go," said she. "Yes, I will go, and myself fling his falseness in his teeth." Finding her thus resolved, the Bishop knew that he could not turn her; so, leaving her to prepare herself, he caught Christian Hantz, and charged him to bring their horses to the most private gate of the palace, which opened on a little by-street. Here Christian waited for them with the horses, and they came presently, the Bishop wearing a great slouched hat, and swaggering like a roystering trooper, while Osra was closely veiled. The Bishop again imposed secrecy on Christian, and then, they both being mounted, said to Osra: "If you will then, madame, come," and thus they rode secretly out of the city, about seven in the evening, the gate-wardens opening the gate at sight of the Royal Arms on Osra's ring, which she gave to the Bishop in order that he might shew it. In silence they rode a long way, going at a great speed; Osra's face was set and rigid, for she felt now no shame at herself for going, nor any fear of what she might find, but the injury to her pride swallowed every other feeling; and at last she said, in short sharp words, to the Bishop of Modenstein, having suddenly thrown the veil back from her face: "He shall not live if it prove true." The Bishop shook his head. His profession was peace; yet his blood also was hot against the man who had put a slight on Princess Osra. "The King must know of it," he said. "The King! The King is not here to-night," said Osra; and she pricked her horse and set him at a gallop. The moon, breaking suddenly in brightness from behind a cloud, shewed the Bishop her face. Then she put out her hand and caught him by the arm, whispering: "Are you my friend?" "Yes, madame," said he. She knew well that he was her friend. "Kill him for me, then; kill him for me." "I cannot kill him," said the Bishop. "I pray God it may prove untrue." "You are not my friend, if you will not kill him," said Osra; and she turned her face away and rode yet more quickly. At last they came in sight of the little house standing back from the road; and there was a light in one of the upper windows. The Bishop heard a short gasp break from Osra's lips, as she pointed with her whip to the window. Now his own breath came quick and fast; he prayed to God that he might remember his sacred character and his vows, and not be led into great and deadly sin, at the bidding of that proud and bitter face; and he clenched his left hand and struck his brow with it. Thus then they came to the gate of the avenue of trees that led to the house. Here, having dismounted and tied their horses to the gate-post, they stood for an instant, and Osra again veiled her face. "Let me go alone, madame," he implored. "Give me your sword, and I will go alone," she answered.