do not believe thy vision: but because
I hate thy mocking spirit and thy so strange loyalty--_dama di
maridaggio_!"

The Lady Ecciva calmly resumed her pastime of swan-teasing as her
impulsive companion, flushed and panting, began to climb the long flight
of marble steps that led back to the palace-plateau.

"I think I am better companioned this heavenly night without thy
preaching," she said serenely, as Eloisa, half repenting her quickness,
turned back to wave her a farewell, "for the breezes are comforting
after the day, and fret me not with questions. And for my
_loyalty_"--she lingered mockingly on the word--"my loyalty will serve
King Janus well enough, unless he seeketh to enforce his rights to my
displeasure."

"How to thy 'displeasure'? What 'rights'?"

"His right of Lord of the fiefs--for our lands are gifts of the
Crown--to choose a husband for his _dama di maridaggio_ who suiteth not
her fancy."

"Nay, verily, Ecciva, he is a noble gentleman--he would not press thee
too hard, thou wouldst protest."

"Aye, I should protest--I _would_ protest. And so he hath no scheme to
marry me with the miserable Neapolitan noble who held our lands while we
were dispossessed, I care not! But it were good to know what fancy might
seize him--our charming Janus! For he is a man of many moods and some
favorite of the Soldan may next be friend to him!"

The evening breezes were slowly waking over the torrid land, bringing
needed refreshment after the long sultriness of the day: the air was
laden with delicious odors--fragrance of rose and jessamine and orange
blooms; birds of brilliant plumage called to each other in jubilant
notes as they flitted hither and thither among the pomegranate blossoms
which burned, like tongues of flame, among the thickets of green.

Back through the long alleys of wonderful trees where many a clinging
vine trailed masses of riotous color, it was pleasant to hear mirthful
voices ringing freely after the dull day's repression, or echoing back
more faintly from adventurous wanderers in the farther shrubberies. This
garden of delights which Janus had made for his bride, environing this
palace of Potamia, was alive with charm--rippling with stolen streams,
more costly than molten silver at the summer's height, which kept it in
such vesture of luxuriant bloom as only a monarch might command.

But Eloisa sped quickly up from terrace to terrace, scarcely pausing to
answer the persiflage with which