"'Darling, we meet once more, but our lives are cloaked with sorrow. You know my fate. It is your royal father's will that I and my comrades die at sunset, three days hence. Death is dreadful to me since the hour I saw and loved you. I, who have met this grim majestic thing called Death in a hundred shapes without fear, do now see it approach with craven nerveless terror, for it comes to part me from you. Dear one, this shall not be. Let us haste away together to-night, let us fly from Edos now!'
"'Harry, thou sayest that which is impossible, which cannot be,' she sobbed. 'Knowest thou not that every way from Siccoth is guarded well; nay, doubly guarded since I prevailed upon the King, my father, to let thee and thy companions wander therein.'
"'Volinè, your words ring like knells of death and cold despair across my heart.'
"'Nay, then, give not such freedom to despair. Thou knowest I love thee; but thou must not show a woman's weakness, or, methinks, I should despise thee. Brave men know not fear, and dangers flee affrighted from advancing courage,' she answered, woman-like, striving to excite a confidence and daring she by no means felt, although cunningly concealing her fears.
'"Your words, dear one, have robbed all sting from death, and make me look fearlessly upon my doom.'
"'Harry, dear, thou shalt not meet it. The ring I gave thee shall deliver thee from death. How or where, I know not; but Echri's ring shall save thee!'
"'Truth in its virtues grows stronger and stronger within my heart. But, darling, the moments are speeding on, and we have much to say. Pray, tell me now of this braggart Perodii. He called you his affianced! He has dared to use your name as a synonym for shame, before a hundred thousand citizens of Edos, and his lying words found favour with your father.'
"'Thou speakest truly, yet heed him not. My father now knows that I would rather die than mate with him, prince and noble though he be. I have braved my father's wrath, and I laughed to scorn Perodii's cowardly blow at my honour, because I love thee! Perodii's arms have never held me thus; his lips have never met my own. When he calleth me his, he lieth; Harry, mark thee well my words--he lieth!'