bonnets of the lower classes. Gaudy shawls covered their
shoulders. One was tall and slender, with a bearing that was not
peasant-like. It was she who held Tullis's intense, unbelieving gaze
until they were well inside the fire-light. She walked ahead of her
companions. Suddenly he sprang forward with a cry of amazement.

It was the Countess Ingomede.

Her arrival created a sensation. In a moment she was in the centre of an
amazed circle of men. Tullis, after his first low, eager greeting at the
edge of the fire circle, drew her near to the warmth-giving flames.
Prince Dantan and Captain Haas threw rugs and blankets in a great heap
for her to sit upon. Every one was talking at once. The Countess was
smiling through her tears.

"Make room for my maid and her father. They are colder and more
fatigued than I," she said, lifting her tired, glorious eyes to John
Tullis, who stood beside her. "We have come from Balak. They suffered
much, that I might enjoy the slender comforts I was so ready to share
with them."

"Thank God, you are here," he said in low, intense tones. She could not
mistake the fervour in his voice nor the glow in his eyes. Her wondrous,
yellowish orbs looked steadily into his, and he was satisfied. They paid
tribute to the emotion that moved him to the depths of his being. Love
leaped up to him from those sweet, tired eyes; leaped with the unerring
force of an electric current that finds its lodestone in spite of mortal
will.

"I knew you were here, John. I am not going back to Count Marlanx. It is
ended."

"I knew it would come, Ingomede. You will let me tell you how glad I
am--some day?"

"Some day, when I am truly, wholly free from him, John. I know what you
will say, and I think you know what I shall say in reply." Both
understood and were exalted. No other word passed between them touching
upon the thing that was uppermost in their minds.

Food was provided for the wayfarers, and Tullis's tent was made ready
for the Countess and her maid.

"Truxton," said he, "we will have to find other quarters for the night.
I've let my apartment--furnished."

"She's gloriously beautiful, John," was all that Truxton said, puffing
moodily at his pipe. He was thinking of one more beautiful, however. "I
suppose you'd think it a favour if I'd pot Marlanx for you to-morrow."

"It doesn't matter whether he's potted or not, my friend. She will not
go back to him. He will have to find another prisoner for his