"Yes, oh, yes," she cried unhesitatingly. "What am I to do?"
"Call the servant who is to take the message."
She turned to the door without another word, and disappeared beyond it.
The moment she was gone, I took a fountain pen and a pad of paper from
my pocket, and wrote rapidly--or seemed to write, for the pen left no
trace upon the paper.
My invisible note was completed and I was writing with another pen upon
a second sheet of paper when the princess reëntered the room. This time
the writing was plainly visible, and while I asked her for an envelope
I passed it to her to read.
It was addressed to my friend Canfield who had charge of the messenger
service, and merely instructed him to "forward the packages that had
been left with him that morning" to their several addresses without
delay. It was signed, "Dubravnik."
"Is this the note my servant is to take?" she asked, incredulously.
"Yes."
I folded the apparently blank sheet with the other and placed them both
in the envelope which I had already addressed.
"You see there is no harm in that note, even if the men outside should
read it," I added, when the servant had departed. "Your man, who is of
course a spy, will read the note, which I purposely left unsealed, as
soon as he is out of sight of the house. In an hour every man who is
waiting to take my life will be in prison. If your brother is among
them, he will not be harmed and you----"
I hesitated, and she raised her eyes to mine and said: "Well, and I?"
"You will have to do as you have agreed to do, obey me." I hesitated
again and then with a desperate courage, added: "Love, honor, and obey
me."