It was but a moment's glance, for she had already dismounted
from her mare, and was passing within with two other ladies of her
party; but in that one glance he knew her. His discovery of the chain
gave him a plea to seek her. Should he avail himself of it? He hesitated
a while. It would be safest, wisest, best, to deliver up the trinket
to her courier, and pass on his way without another look at that beauty
which could never be his, which could never lighten for him even with
the smile that a woman may give her equal or her friend. She could never
be aught to him save one more memory of pain, save one remembrance the
more to embitter the career which not even hope would ever illumine. He
knew that it was only madness to go into her presence, and feed, with
the cadence of her voice, the gold light of her hair, the grace and
graciousness of her every movement, the love which she would deem such
intolerable insult, that, did he ever speak it, she would order her
people to drive him from her like a chidden hound. He knew that; but he
longed to indulge the madness, despite it; and he did so. He went down
into the court below, and found her suite.

"Tell your mistress that I, Louis Victor, have some jewels which belong
to her, and ask her permission to restore them to her hands," he said to
one of her equerries.

"Give them to me, if you have picked them up," said the man, putting out
his hand for them.

Cecil closed his own upon them.

"Go and do as I bid you."

The equerry paused, doubtful whether or no to resist the tone and the
words. A Frenchman's respect for the military uniform prevailed. He went
within.

In the best chamber of the caravanserai Venetia Corona was sitting,
listless in the heat, when her attendant entered. The grandes dames who
were her companions in their tour through the seat of war were gone to
their siesta. She was alone, with a scarlet burnous thrown about her,
and upon her all the languor and idleness common to the noontide, which
was still very warm, though, in the autumn, the nights were so icily
cold on the exposed level of the plains. She was lost in thought,
moreover. She had heard, the day before, a story that had touched
her--of a soldier who had been slain crossing the plains, and had been
brought, through the hurricane and the sandstorm, at every risk, by his
comrade, who had chosen to endure all peril and wretchedness rather than
leave the dead body to the vultures and the kites.