You heard what we were saying." Karyl spoke gently, deferentially. "And
it seemed to you incredible that we should be confidential on such a
subject. It would be so, except that we are both seeking the same
end--your service--" he paused, then added miserably--"and your
happiness."

She listened in wonderment as she held out her hand to Benton and
watched trance-like his lowered head as he bent his lips to her fingers.

"Cara!" Karyl had stepped back and was leaning over, his elbows resting
on the stone back of one of the low benches. His fingers tightly grasped
the carved ornaments at its top. His words were carefully chosen and
measuredly spoken. He knew that if he permitted one expression to escape
him unguardedly, with it would slip away the command by which he was
curbing mutinous emotions.

"Cara, I happened to be born a Prince, who should one day develop into a
King. It chanced that Nature had a sense of humor--so Nature paid me a
droll compliment. She gave me a futile ambition to be a man--me, whom
she had decided was to be only a King!"

The group stood silent and attentive in a strained tableau, except for
Von Ritz, who paced back and forth just beyond the fountain, as though
respectfully repudiating the whole unseemly episode.

"Then I fell in love with you," went on the King of Galavia. "You
married me--because State reasons demanded it. I could not win your
love--he did!" He turned toward Benton, and his voice, though it held
its slow control, was bitter.

"Benton, do you fancy this puny game amuses me? Do I not know that you
could buy a principality like this for a souvenir of Europe if it
happened to please you? The one time I have been allowed to feel a man
was in your country, where we met as equal rivals.... No, not equal even
then, because you were the winner, I the loser."

"Karyl," the Queen spoke in a low voice, "I can give you loyalty,
admiration, respect and my life to use as you see fit to use it. I give
as freely as I can. My love I do not refuse--it is just ... just that it
is not mine to give." She spoke with unutterable weariness. "I seem to
bring only sorrow to those who love me."

"You can give me all but love," Karyl repeated very softly, leaning
forward toward her, "and love is all there is! Without it I take all
else you give me as a thief takes, without right. If being a King means
being your jailer, then I am done with being a King!"

"Your Majesty," cut in Von Ritz sharply,