er faileth. But, even as she looked, those dark eyes wavered,
shifted, turned away, as if he could not bear any longer to gaze upon
her in the sunlight.

An immense pity filled Mora's heart. She knew he was going to fail
her; yet the pathos of that failure lay in the fact that it was the
very force of his love which rendered the temptation so insuperable.

Swiftly she passed into the banqueting hall, went to him where he
stood, put up her arms about his neck, and lifted her lips to his.

"I thank God, my beloved," she said, "that He hath brought thee in
safety back to me."

Hugh's arms, flung around her, strained her to him. But he kept his
head erect. The muscles of his neck were like iron bands under her
fingers. She could see the cleft in his chin, the firm curve of his
lips. His eyes were turned from her.

She longed to say: "Hugh, the Bishop's first letter, lost on its way,
hath reached my hands. Already I know the true story of the vision."

Yet instead she clung to his neck, crying: "Kiss me, Hugh! Kiss me!"

She could not rob her man of his chance to be faithful. Also, if he
were going to fail her, it were better he should fail and she know it,
than that she should forever have the torment of questioning: "Had I
not spoken, would he have kept silence?"

Yet, while he was still hers, his honour untarnished, she longed for
the touch of his lips.

"Kiss me," she whispered again, not knowing how ten-fold more hard she
thus made it for him.

But loosing his arms from around her, he took her face between his
hands, looking long into her eyes, with such a yearning of hunger,
grief, and regret, that her heart stood still. Then, just as, rendered
dizzy by his nearness, she closed her eyes, she felt his lips upon her
own.

For a moment she was conscious of nothing save that she was his.

Then her mind flew back to the last time they had stood, thus. Again
the underground smell of damp earth seemed all about them; again her
heart was torn by love and pity; again she seemed to see Hugh, passing
up from the darkness into that pearly light which came stealing down
from the crypt--and she realised that this second kiss held also the
anguish of parting, rather than the rapture of reunion.

Before she could question the meaning of this, Hugh released her,
gently loosed her hands from about his neck, and led her to a seat.

Then he thrust his hand into his breast, and when he drew it forth she
saw that