w
Desiree's face quite near my own; my head was resting on her shoulder.
She was weeping silently, and great tears rolled down her cheeks
unrestrained.

To have seen the sun or stars shining down upon me would not have
astonished me more. I gazed at her a long moment in silence; she saw
that I did so, but made no effort to turn her head or avoid my gaze.
Finally I found my tongue.

"Where is Harry?" I asked.

"He is gone to look for water," she replied; and, curiously enough, her
voice was quite steady.

I smiled.

"It is useless. I am done for!"

"That isn't true," she denied, in a voice almost of anger. "You will
get well. You are--injured badly--" After a short pause she added,
"for me."

There was a long silence--I thought it hardly worth while to contradict
her--and then I said simply, "Why are you crying, Desiree?"

She looked at me as though she had not heard; then, after another
silence, her voice came, so low that it barely reached my ears:

"For this--and for what might have been, my friend."

"But you have said--"

"I know! Would you make me doubt again? Do not! Ah"--she passed her
hand gently over my forehead and touched the tips of her fingers to my
burning eyes--"you must have cared for me in that other world. I will
not doubt it; unless you speak, and you must not. Nothing would have
been too high for us. We could have opened any door--even the door to
happiness."

"But you said once--forgive me if I remind you of it now--you said that
you are--you called yourself 'La Marana.'"

She shrank back, exclaiming: "Paul! Indeed, I need to forgive you!"

"Still, it is true," I persisted, turning to look at her. The movement
caused me to halt, closing my eyes, while a great wave of pain swept
over me from head to foot. Then I went on: "Could you expect to
confine your heart? You say we could have opened any door--well, tell
me, what could we have done, you and I?"

"But that is what I do not think of!" cried Desiree impatiently. "I
would perhaps have placed my hand on your heart, as I do now; you would
perhaps have fought for me, as you have done. I might even--" She
hesitated, while the ghost of a smile that had died before it reached
the light appeared on her lips, as her head was lowered close, quite
close, to mine.

A long moment, and then, "Must I ask for it?" I breathed.

She jerked her head up sharply.

"You do not want it," she said dryly.

I raised my hand, gropi