r. I had thought he
followed and watched by night for another reason."

"What reason?"

"I--do not know. A finer, holier reason--"

The wind fluttered and fell, and rose again with a plaintive sigh.

"You know, but you will not tell!"

"It--it may be so. He is false--he is false!" cried the voice of the
girl's sore heart; "a false sentry and a false protector. I can not
bear it. Philip! Philip! It was Themar's knife--and the bullet was
his--and all that seemed fine and noble was black and false!"

"You will not trust him as he begged!"

"I can not. For he will not tell me the reason for all these things!"

"You will wed Prince Ronador?"

"Yes. It is the one way out."

"Why?"

"He is a gallant lover and the victim of much that is vile and unfair."

"Yes--he has said so."

"He has suffered much through me."

"Yes."

"And he is honorable and devoted."

"It may be."

"He told me all, though he found it difficult."

"He was not bound by a pledge."

"No."

"Well, there is wisdom, the wisdom of the world, in your choice.
Flashing jewels, robes of state, maids of honor--"

"These things," spurned Diane with beautiful insolence, "I may buy with
gold."

"Ah!" crooned the wind, "but the vassalage of this elfin nation that
plays at empire, the romance and adventure of an imperial court! And
when the mad King dies and the Prince Regent, then Ronador will be
king--"

"I have thought of it all. I can not go back to the old shallow life
with Aunt Agatha. No! No! And I am very lonely. If in the days to
come wind and moon and the call of the wilderness stir my gypsy blood
to rebellion--if I am ever to forget--"

"What must you forget?"

"It was foolish to speak so. I do not know. Then when the call of the
wildwood comes I must have crowded days and fevered gayety to hush it.
And surely this will come to me in the court of Ronador."

The wild moon drifted behind a cloud, the sea darkened, something huge
and shadowy lumbered down to the water and splashed heavily away, the
cat owl hooted. A mist drooped trailing fingers over the water as the
wind died away.

A profoundly dreary setting for a dream of empire!

CHAPTER XXXVI

UNDER THE LIVE OAKS

"See!" said Keela shyly. "It is the camp of my people."

It lay ahead, a fire-blot in the darkling swamp, a primitive mirage of
primitive folk, of palmetto wigwams and log-wheel fires among the live
oaks of a lonely island.

Keel