Let me ask your father whether it be not yet possible to return to my vessel, and leave a world so uncongenial to both of us." "You cannot!" she answered.

"Try to escape--you insult the Prince; you put yourself and me, for whom you fear more, in the power of a malignant enemy.

You cannot guide a balloon or a vessel, if you could get possession of one; and within a few hours after your departure was known, every road and every port would be closed to you." "Can I not send to your father ?" I said.
"Probably," she replied.

"I think we shall find a telegraph in your office, if you will allow me to enter there, now there is no one to see; and it must be morning in Ecasfe." Familiar with the construction and arrangement of a Martial house, Eveena immediately crossed the gallery to what she called the office--the front room on the right, where the head of the house carries on his work or study.

Here, above a desk attached to the wall, was one of those instruments whose manipulation was simple enough for a novice like myself.
"But," I said, "I cannot write your stylic characters; and if I used the phonic letters, a message from me would be very likely to excite the curiosity of officials who would care about no other." "May I," she suggested, "write your message for you, and put your purport in words that will be understood by my father alone ?" "Do," I rejoined, "but do it in my name, and I will sign it." Under her direction, I took the stylus or pencil and the slip of _tafroo_ she offered me, and wrote my name at the head.