, my Suzanne," he said half-ironically, and with
marked emphasis on the possessive.

Again he drew nearer, not choosing to note the instinctive stiffening of
her figure, the shrinking look in her eyes. He caught her arm and drew
her to him, laughing a low mocking laugh as he did so, for she had
turned her face away from him.

"Come," he said lightly, "will you not kiss me, my beautiful Suzanne?
... my wife, my princess."

She was silent, impassive, indifferent so he thought, although the arm
which he held trembled within his grip.

He stretched out his other hand, and taking her chin between his
fingers, he forcibly turned her face towards him. Something in her face,
in her attitude, now roused a certain rough passion in him. Mayhap the
weary wailing during the day, the agonizing impatience, or the golden
argosy so near to port, had strung up his nerves to fever pitch.

Irritation against her impassiveness, in such glaring contrast to her
glowing ardor of but a few weeks ago, mingled with that essentially male
desire to subdue and to conquer that which is inclined to resist, sent
the blood coursing wildly through his veins.

"Ah!" he said with a sigh half of desire, half of satisfaction, as he
looked into her upturned face, "the chaste blush of the bride is vastly
becoming to you, my Suzanne! ... it acts as fuel to the flames of my
love ... since I can well remember the passionate kisses you gave me so
willingly awhile ago."

The thought of that happy past, gave her sudden strength. Catching him
unawares she wrenched herself free from his hold.

"This is a mockery, prince," she said with vehemence, and meeting his
half-mocking glance with one of scorn. "Do you think that I have been
blind these last few weeks? ... Your love for me hath changed, if indeed
it ever existed, whilst I ..."

"Whilst you, my beautiful Suzanne," he rejoined lightly, "are mine ...
irrevocably, irretrievably mine ... mine because I love you, and because
you are my wife ... and owe me that obedience which you vowed to Heaven
that you would give me.... That is so, is it not?"

There was a moment's silence in the tiny cottage parlor now, whilst
he--gauging the full value of his words, knowing by instinct that he had
struck the right cord in that vibrating girlish heart, watched the
subtle change in her face from defiance and wrath to submission and
appeal.

"Yes, Amede," she murmured after a while, "I owe you obedience, honor
and love,