and of the throne was as sacred to her as her salvation, and more than her happiness.
"A stake, my lord," said she, "that many gentlemen have thought above any castle in preciousness."
"Of what do you speak?" he asked, and his voice quivered a little, as a man's does in excitement. "For, pardon me, madame, but what have you of such value?"
"I have what the poorest girl has, and it is of the value that it pleased God to make it and pleases men to think it," said Osra. "And all of it I will stake against the King's Castle of Zenda and its demesne."
Count Nikolas's eyes flashed and he drew nearer to her; he took his dice-box from his pocket, and he held it up before her, and he whispered in an eager hoarse voice:
"Name this great stake, madame; what is it?"
"It is myself, my lord," said Princess Osra.
"Yourself?" he cried wondering, though he had half guessed.
"Aye. To be the Lord of Zenda is much. Is it not more to be husband to the King's sister?"
"It is more," said he, "when the King's
