upreme forces compelled us both, so that preliminary details were
superfluous between us?

However that might be, the gracious smile died slowly on her lips to a
seriousness far sweeter, and as she looked into my face her eyes
widened, and dropped all concealment until I was gazing into her soul.

When a woman meets the eyes of a man in that fashion he ceases to
question, and wishes only to do reverence. It is like rolling back the
waters of the sea and revealing the wonders of the deeps. For it is
decreed that the eyes of a woman are given her in defense, to hide
behind their dance and sparkle the things which lie beneath--and to
disarm. When once they have opened in the miracle of self-revelation and
surrendered their secret, one must be unworthy who feels himself worthy
of such a manifestation.

And the secret I read there was that she loved me beyond all doubting.
It mattered no longer how the wonder had come to pass. That was a mere
point of god-craft. It had happened, and the stars were singing.

I dropped on one knee and lifted her hand to my lips.

Later, I sketched rapidly, agitatedly, the story of the coming of her
portrait to the island, of its place on the chest and its subsequent
worship. I told her of meeting Keller on the steamer and Maxwell in New
York. I summarized the chain of evidence which had to my mind proved her
to be Mrs. Weighborne. I have no doubt that I told it badly, but that
was of no consequence, since back of my broken narration was the pent-up
rush of emotion, and to her this seemed important. Nor did my story, so
fantastic that I hardly expected her to accept it without proof, seem to
surprise her.

"And," I concluded, "I am going to build you a new temple which will
make the Taj Mahal a tawdry mosque, for every block and rafter will be
love, and each year we live I shall add new minarets of worship--and not
only five times each day but a hundred, its _muezzin_ shall call me to
prayer."

Her eyes were glowing, and her laugh trembled.

"I came quite a long way," she told me, "to make you say that, but after
all you have done it very nicely."

"But," I admitted after a long pause, "I don't yet understand--not that
it matters now--but why? That word is beating at my brain--why in the
names of all the gods should you care?"

"Why shouldn't I?" she indignantly countered.

"You have known me," I said blankly, "a few days--and I should have
imagined that I made a sorry impression."