Paralysed with fear and amazement, the men obeyed. They could not have done otherwise. The odds were against them; they were bewildered; they knew not how to combat what seemed to them an absolutely supernatural force. While the three white men kept them covered with their rifles, Selim ran to the gate, uttering the shrill cry of a night bird. There was a rush of feet inside the walls, subdued exclamations, and then a glad cry. "Quick!" called Selim. The keys rattled in the locks, the bolts were thrown down, and an instant later, Lady Deppingham was flying across the space which intervened between her and the gate, where five or six figures were huddled and calling out eagerly for haste. The men were beside her a moment later, possessed of the weapons of the helpless sentinels. With a crash the gates were closed and a joyous laugh rang out from the exultant throat of Hollingsworth Chase. "By the Lord Harry, this is worth while!" he shouted. Outside, the maddened guards were sounding the tardy alarm. Chase called out to them and told them where they could find the four men in the forest. Then he turned to follow the group that had scurried off toward the château. The first grey shade of day was coming into the night. He saw Neenah ahead of him, standing still in the centre of the gravelled path. Beyond her was the tall figure of a man. "You are a trump, Neenah," cried Chase, hurrying up to her. "A Persian angel!" It was not Neenah's laugh that replied. Chase gasped in amazement and then uttered a cry of joy. The Princess Genevra, slim and erect, was standing before him, her hand touching her turban in true military salute, soft laughter rippling from her lips. In the exuberance of joy, he clasped that little hand and crushed it against his lips. "You!" he exclaimed. "Sh!" she warned, "I have retained my guard of honour." He looked beyond her and beheld the tall, soldierly figure of a Rapp-Thorberg guardsman. "The devil!" fell involuntarily from his lips. "Not at all. He is here to keep me from going to the devil," she cried so merrily that he laughed aloud with her in the spirit of unbounded joy. "Come! Let us run after the others. I want to run and dance and sing." He still held her hand as they ran swiftly down the drive, followed closely by the faithful sergeant. "You are an angel," he said in her ear. She laughed as she looked up into his face. "Yes--a Persian angel," she cried. "It's so much easier to run well in a Persian angel's costume," she added. CHAPTER XXXI A PRESCRIBED MALADY "You are wonderful, staying out there all night watching for--us." He was about to say "me."