great slouched hat, and swaggering like a roystering trooper, while
Osra was closely veiled. The bishop again imposed secrecy on
Christian, and then, they both being mounted, said to Osra: "If you
will, then, madam, come;" and thus they rode secretly out of the
city, about seven o'clock in the evening, the gate-wardens opening the
gates at sight of the royal arms on Osra's ring, which she gave to the
bishop in order that he might show it.

In silence they rode a long way, going at a great speed. Osra's face
was set and rigid, for she felt now no shame at herself for going, nor
any fear of what she might find. But the injury to her pride swallowed
every other feeling, and at last she said, in short, sharp words, to
the Bishop of Modenstein, having suddenly thrown the veil back from
her face:

"He shall not live, if it prove true."

The bishop shook his head. His profession was peace; yet his blood,
also, was hot against the man who had put a slight on Princess Osra.

"The king must know of it," he said.

"The king? The king is not here tonight," said Osra; and she pricked
her horse, and set him at a gallop. The moon, breaking suddenly in
brightness from behind a cloud, showed the bishop her face. Then she
put out her hand, and caught him by the arm, whispering: "Are you my
friend?"

"Yes, madam," said he. She knew well that he was her friend.