t was more difficult to arrange matters with Lady Henrietta. She was
not so young as she once was and she still adored her son, as only the
mother of but one child can adore, and could not bear the idea of having
him away from her. Old and steady as he had now become, he was still her
boy, the idol of her heart. Yet she felt, as her son did, that the Boy
was entitled to the few months of liberty left him, and she did not
greatly object, though there was a wistful look in her eyes as they
rested on her son that told how keenly she felt every separation from
him.

As for Sir Charles, he had not lost the knowing twinkle of the eye.
Moreover, he knew far better than his wife how real was the claim their
young guest had upon their son. And he bade them go with a hearty grasp
of the hand and a bluff Godspeed.

So it was settled that Verdayne and the Boy, attended only by Vasili,
were to sail for America on the third of July, and passage was
immediately secured on the Lusitania.

* * * * *

On the morning of the day appointed, Paul Zalenska from an upper deck
watched the party he had been awaiting, as they mounted the gang-plank.

Gilbert Ledoux he scarcely noticed. The Count de Roannes, too,
interested him no longer when, with a hasty glance, he had assured
himself that the Frenchman was as old as Ledoux and not the gay young
dandy in Opal's train that he had feared to find him.

He had eyes alone for the girl, and he watched her closely as she
tripped up the gang-plank, clinging to her father's arm and chattering
gayly in that voice he so well remembered.

She was not so small at close range as she had appeared at a distance,
but possessed an exquisite roundness of figure and softness of outline
well in proportion to the shortness of her stature.

He had been proud of his kingship--very proud of his royal blood and his
mission to his little kingdom. But of late he had known some rebellious
thoughts, quite foreign to his mental habit.

And to-day, as he looked at Opal Ledoux, he thought, "After all, how
much of a real man can I ever be? What am I but a petty pawn on the
chessboard of the world, moved hither and yon, to gain or to lose, by
the finger of Fate!"

As Opal Ledoux passed him, she met his glance, and slightly flushed by
the _rencontre_, looked back over her shoulder at him and--smiled! And
_such_ a smile! She passed on, leaving him tingling in every fibre with
the thrill of