her.
His hand trembled as he took up hers to carry it to his lips. "We are
children--playing with fire," he murmured, this ingrate, this fool!

She allowed her hand to lie limply in his, her head sinking to the back
of the chair. When her hand was near his feverish lips, cool and white
and trusting, he checked the upward progress. Slowly he raised his eyes
to study her face, finding that hers were closed, the semblance of a
smile touching her lips as if they were in a happy dream.

The lips! The lips! The lips! The madness of love rushed into his
heart; the expectant hand was forgotten; his every hope and every
desire measured themselves against his discretion as he looked upon
the tempting face. Could he kiss those lips but once his life would be
complete.

With a start she opened her eyes, doubtless at the command of the
masterful ones above. The eyes of blue met the eyes of gray in a short,
sharp struggle, and the blue went down in surrender. His lips triumphed
slowly, drawing closer and closer as if restrained and impelled by the
same emotion--arrogant love.

"Open your eyes, darling," he whispered, and she obeyed. Then their lips
met--her first kiss of love!

She trembled from head to foot, perfectly powerless beneath the spell.
Again he kissed a princess on her throne. At this second kiss her eyes
grew wide with terror, and she sprang from his side, standing before him
like one bereft of reason.

"Oh, my God! What have you done?" she wailed. He staggered to his feet,
dizzy with joy.

"Ha!" cried a gruff voice from the doorway, and the guilty ones whirled
to look upon the witness to their blissful crime. Inside the curtains,
with carbine leveled at the head of the American, stood Allode, the
guard, his face distorted by rage. The Princess screamed and leaped
between Lorry and the threatening carbine.

"Allode!" she cried, in frantic terror.

He angrily cried out something in his native tongue and she
breathlessly, imploringly replied. Lorry did not understand their words,
but he knew that she had saved him from death at the hand of her loyal,
erring guard. Allode lowered his gun, bowed low and turned his back upon
the throne.

"He--he would have killed you," she said, tremulously, her face the
picture of combined agony and relief. She remembered the blighting
kisses and then the averted disaster.

"You--what did you say to him?" he asked.

"I--I--oh, I will not tell you," she cried.

"I beg of yo