"He swore that all his life should be mine," she whispered. "Yet I
knew that he did not love me."

The bishop made her no answer; she looked for none, and did not know
that she spoke the bitterness of her heart in words that he could
hear. He bowed his head, and prayed again for her and for himself; for
he had found his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. And thus, side
by side now, they came to the door of the house, and saw a gentleman
standing in front of the door, still but watchful. And Osra knew that
he was the prince's chamberlain.

When the chamberlain saw them he started violently, and clapped a hand
to his sword; but Osra flung her veil on the ground, and the bishop
gripped his arm as with a vise. The chamberlain looked at Osra and at
the bishop, and half drew his sword.

"This matter is too great for you, sir," said the bishop. "It is a
quarrel of princes. Stand aside!" And before the chamberlain could
make up his mind what to do, Osra had passed by him, and the bishop
had followed her.

Finding themselves in a narrow passage, they made out, by the dim
light of a lamp, a flight of stairs that rose from the farthest end of
it. The bishop tried to pass the princess, but she motioned him back,
and walked swiftly to the stairs. In silent speed they mounted till
they had reached the top of the first stage; and facing them, eight or
ten steps farther up, was a door. By the door stood a groom. This was
the man who had treacherously told Christian of his master's doings;
but when he saw, suddenly, what had come of his disloyal chattering,
the fellow went white as a ghost, and came tottering in stealthy