ere returned to her a
realization of all the terrors by which we were at that moment
surrounded. We could love each other with a rhapsodical completeness,
in perfect security, so long as we remained together inside that room;
but beyond the walls of Zara's palatial home death stalked grimly,
waiting, waiting, waiting, for the moment to strike.

She withdrew from my embrace, slowly and tentatively, but surely, until
we no longer touched each other, and she gazed appealingly into my eyes
while the flush of love forsook her cheeks and brow, giving place to a
pallor of uncertainty and dread for me.

"I had forgotten," she murmured.

"Then continue to forget, my Zara," I whispered.

"No, we must not forget; we must remember." She raised her hand and
pointed toward the window. "Out there, Dubravnik, death waits for you.
I had forgotten. I had forgotten."

With a start she gained her feet and stood for a moment palpitatingly
uncertain, clasping and unclasping her hands, while her bosom rose and
fell in this stress of an utterly new emotion.

One whom she loved was threatened, now. The maternal instinct of
womankind is never more prominent than when it is exercised in the
protection of the man she loves, and who is destined to be the father
of her offspring. It is a grand and a noble sentiment, and no man lives
who will ever comprehend it; but when a man loves as I loved then, he
can appreciate its fullness, even though he may not understand it; he
can recognize its existence and presence, even though it would be
impossible for him to define it.

And it was the maternal instinct that governed her in that moment of
terrorized realization of the dangers which threatened me.

I had suddenly become her charge and care. She saw herself as
responsible for the conditions that menaced me, and she was like a wild
partridge sheltering its brood, and which will not hesitate to face any
peril for their protection.

I was always more or less indifferent, if not insensible, to danger. It
may not necessarily be bravery that refuses to recognize perils; it may
be an instinctive quality of dominance, and self-confidence which is
convinced of its power to overcome them.

I rose and stood beside her, putting my arm around her as we faced the
window from the opposite side of the room.

"Out there lies danger, Zara," I said smiling, "but here, in this room,
dwells happiness."

"There can be no happiness with death waiting for you out