river and there was a
tender, eager longing in their depths. Hugh was off in the hills with
his workmen and the hour had passed for him to emerge from the woodland
on his way to the village.

The shadows of night were beginning to settle upon the baking earth and
a certain uneasiness was entering her bosom. Then she caught a glimpse
of his figure in the distance. With his swarm of soldiers behind him he
came from the forest and across the narrow lowlands toward the river. He
steadfastly refused to be carried to and from the "fortifications" in
the rude litter that had been constructed for him, a duplicate of which
had been made for her. A native with a big white umbrella was constantly
at his side and King Pootoo was in personal command of the workmen as
"sub-boss." Ridgeway jocosely characterized his hundred workmen as
"Micks," and they had become expert wielders of the wooden pick, shovel
and crowbar. In the village there were the three hundred tired armorers
who had worked all day among the hard saplings in the country miles to
the south. It was their duty to make an inexhaustible supply of spears,
swords, etc.

As the American came up over the bank of the river Lady Tennys could not
repress a smile of pride. The white grass trousers, the huge white hat,
and the jaunty military carriage had become so familiar to her that she
could almost feel his approach before he came into view. It was always
the same confident, aggressive stride, the walk of the master.

Although the sun had dropped behind the twin giants and the haze of the
night was on, Hugh's faithful attendant carried the umbrella over his
head. The new Izor said, more than once, that, having taught the fellow
to carry the protector, he could not unteach him. Were it darkest
midnight the umbrella was produced and carried with as much serenity as
when the sun broiled and toasted at midday. When the returning band of
laborers was half way across Velvet Valley, Tennys, as was her wont,
left her hammock and went forth to meet the man beneath the white
sunshade. His pace quickened and his face brightened as she drew near.
The hatless, graceful figure in white came up to him with the cry:

"Why are you so late? Dinner has been waiting for an hour."

"Pshaw! And the cocoanuts are cold again," he cried with mock concern.
She took his arm and they trudged happily through the deep grass on
which the never-failing dew was already settling. "But we have finished
the