Rallywood turned in
his stride as if he felt their eyes upon him.

'His Highness has sent for you, Unziar,' he said.

CHAPTER XIII.

LOVE IN TWO SHADES.

All the next morning the snow fell persistently, and Sagan might have
been, as far as appearances went, a castle built in the air. Above,
below, around, the snow eddied like a fairy torrent, beating against the
solid walls and curling in curious ringed swirls about its buttresses as
water beats about a rock in midstream.

But the dominant grey of the outside world cast no appreciable
reflection on the spirits of Madame de Sagan's guests, with whom gaiety
and wild devices for killing time were necessary and familiar things.

But to Valerie the same suggestion of fear and unrest that had oppressed
her on the previous evening still held its silent sway over the place.
She stood at the broad window of the main staircase watching the swift
atoms of snow drift past, each one by itself a mere melting point, but,
in their millions, mighty. She shivered and looked round with an odd
sense of apprehension, as if the vague blind storm outside had its
counterpart in a vague blind danger within.

A tall man came leaping up the staircase. He stopped beside her. She
looked up at him, her deep eyes were full of some disturbing thought.

'Captain Rallywood, will you tell Major Counsellor from me,' she began
at once, in a low, hurried voice, 'that, in spite of what he has heard
of me, he must still believe Maasau is the dearest thing on earth to me.
Tell him that, if needful, I am ready to prove it with my life! He may
make quite sure I meant all I said to him yesterday.'

Rallywood stood silent. The passion of her voice and speech echoed in
her own ears and suddenly seemed all excessive and uncalled for; a
blush--half anger, half shame--rushed over her face, bringing tears to
her eyes. Why was it decreed that she should always, in some small
foolish way, appear to disadvantage before this wretched Englishman.

'I will tell him,' said Rallywood at last, 'though I cannot understand.'

'No, you cannot understand! You are so cold, so self-centred that the
feelings and tumults which trouble most of us appear as weaknesses to
you. Since you cannot understand us, you should not judge us, we others,
who, in our own spasmodic way, love our country as you serve
yours--steadily and with a whole heart.'

Now, John Rallywood was perplexed. He longed to set himself right with
h