It was I--Rudolf Rassendyll--who had won her! I caught her round the waist.
"You didn't love me before ?" I asked.
She looked up into my face, smiling, as she whispered: "It must have been your Crown.

I felt it first on the Coronation Day." "Never before ?" I asked eagerly.
She laughed low.
"You speak as if you would be pleased to hear me say 'Yes' to that," she said.
"Would 'Yes' be true ?" "Yes," I just heard her breathe, and she went on in an instant: "Be careful, Rudolf; be careful, dear.

He will be mad now." "What, Michael?
If Michael were the worst--" "What worse is there ?" There was yet a chance for me.

Controlling myself with a mighty effort, I took my hands off her and stood a yard or two away.

I remember now the note of the wind in the elm trees outside.
"If I were not the King," I began, "if I were only a private gentleman--" Before I could finish, her hand was in mine.
"If you were a convict in the prison of Strelsau, you would be my King," she said.
And under my breath I groaned, "God forgive me!" and, holding her hand in mine, I said again: "If I were not the King--" "Hush, hush!" she whispered.