e stately Indian pleasure palace of the
Sultan-i-bagh at Bhutpur, her separation from her father and exile--as
she had counted it--to Europe.

It is among the doubtful privileges of highly sensitized natures, such as
Damaris', that, in hours of crisis, vision and pre-vision go hand in
hand. As there flashed through her remembrance of that earlier sleep in
the open, there flashed through her also conviction that history would
still further repeat itself. Now, as then, the incident of sleep preluded
the receipt of a gift, adorable perhaps, yet freighted with far-reaching
consequences to herself and her future. Of just what that gift might
consist she had no idea; but of its approach she felt as certain as of
the approach of the man swinging down through the rain over the rattling
pebbles. And her gladness of welcome declined somewhat. She could have
cried off, begged for postponement. For she was very tired, after all.
She didn't want anything now, anything which--however delightful in
itself--demanded effort, demanded even the exertion of being very
pleased. She shied away, in short. And then commendably rallied her
forces, resolute not to be found unworthy or ungrateful.

"Yes--come. I am here," she called in response to that lately heard
calling of her name, desiring to make an act of faith whereby to assure
herself she was indeed ready, and assure her hearer of her readiness to
accept the impending gift.

"I am here," she began again to affirm, but stopped abruptly, the words
choking in her throat.

For, as with decreasing distance the figure grew distinct, she saw, to
her blank amazement, not Sir Charles Verity, her father, as she expected,
but the blue reefer jacket, peaked cap, and handsome bearded face of
Darcy Faircloth, the young merchant sea-captain, emerge from the blur of
the wet. And the revulsion of feeling was so sharp, the shock at once so
staggering and intimate--as summing up all the last ten days confused
experience--that Damaris could not control herself. She turned away with
a wail of distress, threw out her hands, and then, covering her eyes with
them, bowed her head.

The young man came forward and stood near her; but an appreciable time
elapsed before he spoke. When he presently did so, his voice reached
her as again singularly familiar in tone, though strange in diction and
in accent.

"I'm sorry if I startled you," he began, "but I hailed you just now, and
you told me to come.--I conclude