mself the while. And as he monologued
he was aware of that fettering, overmastering force which visits youth
but once--the abnegation of self before that which is.

In that struggle in which we lay our arguments down and rejoice in
defeat he had wrestled with all the weakness of his years. And now, as
he flung himself on the bed, he clasped a pillow in his arms and sighed.
He hoped for nothing, he expected nothing; but it was bliss to be
conquered and enchained. The contest was done. During the coming week
his captor would move before him, a luring melody, a clear accord
sounded for his own delight, and then he would go, leaving the melody
undisturbed, yet bearing a strain of it to feed on, a memory of enduring
joy.

From without the hum of insects still persisted, and the waves were
noisier than before. His eyes closed, and he smiled. For a moment that
may have outlasted an hour he dreamed of the fabulous days in which
goatherds dared to fall in love with goddesses. And such is the
advantage of a classical education, that he mumbled a line from a Greek
pedant, another from a Roman bore. In the dactyls and the spondees he
caught the rhythm of tinkling feet; and as the measures sank him into
deeper sleep a monstrous beetle shot through the casement and put the
candle out.

The whir of wings disturbed him ever so little. For an instant he was
bending over sandals, caressing a peplum's hem. Then all was blank.

"Tuan! Tuan!"

It was a Malay servant, hailing the foreign lord, admonishing him to
rise.

The room was filled with sunlight, and on a palm tree opposite Tancred
caught a glimpse of a red monkey scratching his knee, chattering and
grimacing at a paroquet.

II.

At tiffin, that noon, the general was absent. It was usually so, his
daughter explained; the duties of the consulate at Siak claimed the
clearer hours of the day, and it was only now and then, on high days and
festivals, that he permitted himself the surcease of a siesta at home.

"He is indefatigable," she added, and shook her peerless head.

During the morning Tancred had explored the grounds; he had idled on the
red-road and lost himself among the invitations of a green ravine. A
grove of tamarinds had called to him, a stretch of aroids had entreated
him that way, the sky had imprisoned him beneath a palm, a brook had
murmured to him, a lake had coaxed him to its cool embrace. And then,
Zut sniffing at his heels, he had returned in tim