“We will leave Damascus as soon as the ceremony is performed,” said the Queen calmly. “When we are together and out of their reach they can do nothing against us. The Emperor Sigismund has no jurisdiction over me, and no court in the world would deny that Count Mortimer, an Englishman born, could be legally married at a British Consulate. On his side the marriage must stand, and if they declare it invalid on mine--well, we will be married over and over again until they are content to allow it to stand. But there must not be the slightest suspicion of any flaw. You will see to that, messieurs?” She looked at the three men. “There shall be none,” responded Lord Caerleon. “It will be better,” said Cyril, “to tell no one but Monckton of our change of plan until the morning. With the best intentions in the world, Phil and the young fellows could not help letting it be seen that they had an important secret in charge, and the least slip might ruin us. I suppose, Chevalier,”--he was fingering absently Princess Soudaroff’s letter, which the Queen had asked him to read,--“it has occurred to you that Vladimir Alexandrovitch had some object in giving away his fellow-conspirators like this?” “You mean det he intended to let you hef a hint to escape, Count?” “Not necessarily. I think he has some other plan on hand--more important to him, though not to the Emperor Sigismund--and he has deliberately sacrificed his ally in order to divert your attention from his own game.” “But what iss det?” cried the Chevalier distractedly. “Ah, that you must not ask me. I could have told you once, I don’t doubt, but now”--he shrugged his shoulders. “Think it out if you can, Chevalier.” “It iss hopeless, Count. I gif it up. My aim now iss to see you safely merried to her Machesty, and I can think of nothink else.” The three conspirators took their leave of the Queen, and departed to put things in train for the next day’s ceremony. Lord Caerleon paid a visit to Colonel Monckton, the British Consul, and bespoke his consent to the change of date and his assistance in the necessary arrangements. Cyril sent Paschics to look for Yeshua (the blind man had returned to Damascus with the Queen and her escort), who was to find his way to the sheikh of the Beni Ismail, and tell him that he and his tribe would be needed to guard their sovereign and her husband to Sitt Zeynab two days earlier than the time agreed upon. The Chevalier, on his side, devised a little plan of his own for hoodwinking the enemy, and having laid his train, devoted his attention to procuring the tents and supplies for the journey.