"Then I will remain with you, and when the soldiers come I will declare that I helped you enter Marlborough House, and show the diamonds to prove that I was your accomplice; nay, I will say that my familiarity with the duchess’ apartments gave me access where you could not have entered and that _I_ stole the diamonds and gave them to you!" "You will do this?" he gasped, utterly stupefied. "I will; and if necessary I will proclaim myself your wife and let them think I have had my share in whatever you are accused of." "But why? In the name of God, what is the meaning of this madness?" She stretched out her arms to him with a gesture of utter self-abandonment. "It means that I love you, Robin. I love you, and would rather die with you than live without you!" He caught her in his arms and strained her to his breast with all the pent-up passion of his being in that fervid embrace. "Leave you—now, my darling, my heart’s heart—" She tore herself from his arms. "More than ever now," she pleaded. "If you hope ever to possess me, fly, and I swear that I will come to you—if not on earth, in Heaven. Stay, I have an idea." She snatched up a sheet of paper and thrust a pen into his hand. "Write," she commanded, and he wrote at her dictation. "MISTRESS BROOKE: "Follow the bearer and you will find the queen’s diamond necklace." "There," she exclaimed, laughing and crying together, "leave the rest to me, and go—if you do not wish to destroy us both. Hark! the soldiers are already at the gate," she flung the window open—"trust to my woman’s wit," she cried, "I shall not only be safe but covered with glory and honor." He pressed a burning kiss upon her willing lips and sprang through the window. "Follow your master," she said to Larkyn, who stood by, an effigy of astonishment. He obeyed without demur, and she shut the window, closing and fastening the shutter and half-drawing the faded curtain. Then she resumed her mantle and veil and looked around for any sign of Robin’s late occupancy. He had secured all his papers and on the table nothing was left except the purple velvet case and some writing materials, which she thrust into a drawer. In doing so she came upon a packet addressed: "To Mistress Larkyn, "In care of Mine Hostess of "The Fox and Grapes." She took it up and recognized Robin’s writing. The angry blood glowed in her veins. "The insolent varlet!" she muttered. "He has been writing to a woman—’Mistress Larkyn,’ indeed!—Mine Hostess of the ’Fox and Grapes,’ forsooth! ’Tis some low intrigue, and I thought him my true lover and loyal husband. I will see how he addresses this creature." She was about to tear open the packet, when a crash below stairs and the sound of hurried footsteps warned her that the soldiers had broken into the house. She hurriedly thrust it into her bosom and waited.