her hair with ardent kisses, "you have come
so late--and I have been so weary of waiting ... waiting for you."

He led her through the gardens to where one gigantic elm, grander than
its fellows, had thrown out huge gnarled roots which protruded from out
the ground. One of these, moss-covered, green and soft, formed a perfect
resting place. He drew her down, begging her to sit. She obeyed, scared
somewhat as was her wont when she found him so unfettered and violent.

He stretched himself at full length at her feet, extravagant now in his
acts and gestures like a man who no longer can hold turbulent passion in
check. He kissed the edge of her kirtle, then her cloak and the tips of
her little shoes:

"It was cruel to keep me waiting ... gracious lady--it was cruel," he
murmured in the intervals between these ardent caresses.

"I am so sorry, Amede," she repeated, grieving to see him so sorrowful,
not a little frightened at his vehemence,--trying to withdraw her hands
from his grasp. "I was detained ..."

"Detained," he rejoined harshly, "detained by someone else ... someone
who had a greater claim on your time than the poor exile ..."

"Nay! 'tis unkind thus to grieve me," she said with tender reproach as
she felt the hot tears gather in her eyes. "You know--as I do--that I am
not my own mistress yet."

"Yes! yes! forgive me--my gracious, sweet, sweet lady.... I am mad when
you are not nigh me.... You do not know--how could you? ... what
torments I endure, when I think of you so beautiful, so exquisite, so
adorable, surrounded by other men who admire you ... desire you,
mayhap.... Oh! my God! ..."

"But you need have no fear," she protested gently, "you know that I gave
my whole heart willingly to you ... my prince ..."

"Nay, but you cannot know," he persisted violently, "sweet, gentle
creature that you are, you cannot guess the agonies which a strong man
endures when he is gnawed by ruthless insane jealousy ..."

She gave a cry of pain.

"Amede!" for she felt hurt, deeply wounded by his mistrust of her, when
she had so wholly, so fully trusted him.

"I know ... I know," he said with quick transition of tone, fearful that
he had offended her, striving to master his impatience, to find words
which best pleased her young, romantic temperament, "Nay! but you must
think me mad.... Mayhap you despise me," he added with a gentle note of
sadness. "Oh, God! ... mayhap you will turn from me now...."

"No! no!"