placed a hand affectionately
upon Elinor's shoulder.

"I understand your feelings. Rest here until the boat goes."

Indicating, with a wave of her hand, the big trees towering high above,
she added:

"Your last moments with these old friends shall be respected. I am going
to the two graves over there, and will return before it is time to
start."

She walked away, into the grove.

Again, among the shadows of these pines, came memories of her childhood,
with the feeling of being alone in a vast cathedral. And the fragrance,
how she loved it! And she loved this obscurity, always impressive and
always solemn, yet filling her soul with a dreamy joy.

In her passage between the columns of this shadowy temple she stopped
and turned about for a parting glance at her friend. In the same
position, her head upon her hand, Elinor still sat motionless, a picture
of patient suffering. For a moment the Princess watched her in silence,
then slowly turned about and started once again upon her way. Only a
step, however, had she taken when the color fled from her cheeks and she
halted with a gasp of terror. Gladly would she have concealed herself
behind the nearest tree, but she dared not move.

In the gloom of the forest, scarcely a dozen yards away, a figure was
moving silently across her path in the direction of the cottage. Such a
figure she had seen in pictures, but never in the flesh. The North
American savage she always dreaded as a child; and once, at a French
fair, she had seen a wild man. This creature recalled them both. He was
brown of color, with disorderly hair and stubby beard, and no covering
to his body except strips of cloth, faded and in rags, suspended from
one shoulder, held at the waist by a cord, and dangling in tatters about
his legs. Bending slightly forward as he walked--or rather glided--among
the pines, he was peering eagerly in the direction of the house. Had his
gaze been less intent, he would have seen this other figure, the woman
watching him in silent terror. Furtively she glanced about the grove to
see if other creatures were stealing from tree to tree. But she failed
to discover them.

Now the Princess, while fashionable and frivolous, and reprehensible in
many ways, was not devoid of courage. And her conscience told her to
give warning to her friends. This heroic decision was swiftly made. In
making it, however, her cheeks grew paler.

But she was spared the sacrifice. As she drew in her bre