here is there another so lovely, so brave, or so great? Here at
least there are none," and he bowed before her with a stately courtesy
that would have become any European gentleman.

Now it was Leonard's turn to look astonished. There was nothing in the
king's words to which he could take objection, and yet he did not like
their tone; it was too full of admiration. Moreover it seemed to him
that Olfan was not in the least disappointed to discover as a fact that
Juanna was only a woman--a supposition which was fully established by
his next speech.

"I am glad to learn from your own lips, Queen, that you are no goddess,
but a mortal lady, seeing that goddesses are far away and we men must
worship them from afar, whereas women--we may love," and again he bowed.

"My word!" said Leonard to himself, "this king is setting himself up as
my rival. I almost wish I had put things on a more satisfactory footing;
but of course it is absurd. Poor Juanna!"

As for Juanna herself, she started and blushed; here was a new trouble,
but however disagreeable it might prove to be, now was no time to show
displeasure.

"Listen, Olfan," she said, "this is not an hour for pretty speeches
which mean nothing, for it seems that before the light dawns again I may
well be dead and far beyond all love and worship. This is our tale: we
came to your land to seek adventures, and also to win those red stones
that you name the blood of Aca, which among the white people are much
prized as ornaments for their women. That is why I, who am a woman,
urged the Deliverer to undertake this journey, and it is because of my
folly that now we stand in danger of our lives."

"Your pardon, Queen," said Olfan bluntly, "but I would ask you one
question before you tell me the end of your tale. What is this white man
to you?"

Now Juanna was "in a cleft stick"; if she said that Leonard was nothing
to her, it might possibly be better for him, though it was doubtful
whether Olfan would believe her. If, on the other hand, she said that
he was her husband, it might be better for herself, and protect her from
the advances of this dignified savage; but against this course her pride
revolted. Had she not always indignantly repudiated the validity of that
hateful marriage, and though she loved him, were not she and Leonard
in a sense at daggers drawn? Still she must decide, and quickly; her
common-sense told her that under the circumstances it was her pride
which must gi