me irresistible and malign
influence?

In the mere physical effort to assure himself that she was still near
to him he gathered her up in his strong hands. Yes, she was there,
breathing, wondering, palpitating. He folded her closely to his breast,
and, yielding to the passionate longings of his tired heart, whispered
to her--

"My darling, do you think I can survive your loss? You are life itself
to me. If we have to die, sweet one, let us die together."

Then Iris flung her arms around his neck.

"I am quite, quite happy now," she sobbed brokenly. "I
didn't--imagine--it would come--this way, but--I am thankful--it has
come."

[Illustration: LOVE, TREMENDOUS IN ITS POWER, UNFATHOMABLE IN ITS
MYSTERY, HAD CAST ITS SPELL OVER THEM.]

For a little while they yielded to the glamour of the divine knowledge
that amidst the chaos of eternity each soul had found its mate. There
was no need for words. Love, tremendous in its power, unfathomable in
its mystery, had cast its spell over them. They were garbed in light,
throned in a palace built by fairy hands. On all sides squatted the
ghouls of privation, misery, danger, even grim death; but they heeded
not the Inferno; they had created a Paradise in an earthly hell.

Then Iris withdrew herself from the man's embrace. She was delightfully
shy and timid now.

"So you really do love me?" she whispered, crimson-faced, with shining
eyes and parted lips.

He drew her to him again and kissed her tenderly. For he had cast all
doubt to the winds. No matter what the future had in store she was his,
his only; it was not in man's power to part them. A glorious effulgence
dazzled his brain. Her love had given him the strength of Goliath, the
confidence of David. He would pluck her from the perils that environed
her. The Dyak was not yet born who should rend her from him.

He fondled her hair and gently rubbed her cheek with his rough fingers.
The sudden sense of ownership of this fair woman was entrancing. It
almost bewildered him to find Iris nestling close, clinging to him in
utter confidence and trust.

"But I knew, I knew," she murmured. "You betrayed yourself so many
times. You wrote your secret to me, and, though you did not tell me, I
found your dear words on the sands, and have treasured them next my
heart."

What girlish romance was this? He held her away gingerly, just so far
that he could look into her eyes.

"Oh, it is true, quite true," she cried, drawing the lo