not
possible for the guests in the other saloon to see them. He drew the
finger from her lips and pressed it to his own. He would woo the truth
from this beautiful fool. His words meant one thing, his looks another.

'And Valerie?' he questioned, seeming to count her fingers on his palm.

'Valerie loves him--she told me so,' whispered Isolde, since there was
no longer need to speak louder.

'And you, my dear lady?' And it may be the speech was the more
impassioned because in his heart he was damning the picturesqueness of
the captain of the Guard.

* * * * *

And Rallywood? Rallywood sat in his quarters thinking thoughts that,
like music, lead sometimes on to exaltation. His earthly life was done,
and he looked out into the dim beyond fearlessly. His eyes were set and
sad, for he should see her face and hear Valerie's voice no more, but he
would be waiting in that somewhere for her. A man in the supremer hours
often turns again to the faiths of his childhood; so now Rallywood, at
the summit of his life, found himself given back all those lost dreams.

He did not know how she came there. He heard no footstep enter. And when
he knew, neither spoke.

There was nothing to say; it was all understood so well. She stood
beside him, her hands in his in a strange lull of mutual knowledge.

'How did you come?' he asked her at last.

'Anthony,' she answered, 'he knows--all.'

'How like him! But,' with a man's ready thought for the woman he loves,
'you must not be found here. Say good-bye to me, Valerie.'

'John,' she clung to him, 'how can I let you go? You are dying for
Maasau--for my father--for me--yes, yes, I can guess all!'

'Valerie, do you know what your love is to me? I need nothing more. I
have not thought of what there is beyond, but when you want me you will
find me waiting.'

In the long silence life itself might have been suspended.

'When?' said Valerie, in a sudden recollection of anguish.

'To-morrow,' he answered, understanding the broken question.

Valerie raised her wet eyes.

'In my life there can be no to-morrow. God may not let me die, but my
life will always be one long remembrance of to-day. I shall live in
to-day always. To-morrows are for happier women, John. And yet I am
wicked to say that. I would not change my lot with any other. For have I
not my memories? And I will learn to have my hopes. And whenever that
blessed day of release may come to me, I wi