“Ah, you are trying to persuade me to accept the help of the Chevalier Goldberg!” said the Queen. “Well, I cannot say yet. I must wait until all the detectives have reported to me. Then, if there is still no news,” she shuddered, “we must think what is to be done.” Early the next morning, while the air was still comparatively cool, Usk and Helene hired a carriage and drove out to Drinitza. Their road zigzagged up and down the hill-sides, and crossed several bridges, all over the same river. The hamlet for which they were bound stood near the crest of a hill, looking as if it might at any moment slip from its little terrace of rock over the stupendous cliff below. Behind the hotel the wooded summit rose sheer; in front there was the pretence of a garden, with arbours (a little the worse for dust), and a fountain or two, and a piazza which commanded a pleasant view. At the foot of the cliff, in a cool glen cheerful with singing-birds, and bright with crimson-flowered bushes and masses of white-blossomed creeper, was the mysterious cavern from which the river burst forth full-grown. The landlord of the little inn, an old Pannonian soldier, was eloquent in his description of the wonders of the cavern, the blueness of the water inside it, and the strange shapes of the rocks, but it seemed that he had only explored it to a point from which the entrance could still be seen. He was too wise, however, to dash the hopes of prospective guests, and promised to provide a boat and plenty of torches, and do his best to find two boatmen, if the “gracious English nobilities” wished to make a more thorough search at any time. The place was beginning to become known, but the old man’s principal customers were still the officers and townspeople who drove out from Novigrad on Sundays and holidays, and he was delighted to let his best rooms to such distinguished persons as Lord and Lady Usk. In his abounding satisfaction he escorted them up the wood-paths to the top of the hill, and pointed out in the valley far below on the other side a white thread, which he told them was the road into Dardania. “Then where does Prince Pelenko live?” asked Usk, while Helene gave a gasp. They might even now be looking at the scene of the final act of the tragedy which was baffling them all. “Yonder is his Highness’s house,” answered the old man, pointing to a large white building dimly seen among the trees, “but his property extends for miles, as far as the Dardanian frontier.” “Then we shan’t be able to walk through those lovely forests, as he is away from home, and can’t give us leave,” said Helene. “Ah, the gracious lady need not grieve herself,” said the old man, with a knowing look. “The Prince started, certainly, but he is back at home now, sure enough, though it is not every one that knows it, and it will be easy to obtain his leave for the noble lady and gentleman to go where they like on his land.”