against many enemies."

"I think he defended her very well," Gabrielle interrupted, gently.
Lagardere held up a warning finger.

"Hush," he said. "What I am speaking of took place ages ago, when the
world was ever so much younger, in the days of Charlemagne and Caesar and
Achilles and other great princes long since withered, so you can know
nothing at all about it. But this rogue of my story had a sacred duty to
fulfil. He had to restore to this charge, this ward of his, the name, the
greatness, that had been stolen from her. It was his mission to give her
back the gifts which had been filched from her by treason. For seventeen
years he had lived for this purpose, and only for this purpose, crushing
all other thoughts, all other hopes, all other dreams. What would you say
of such a man, so sternly dedicated to so great a faith, if he were to
prove false to his trust, and to allow his own mad passion to blind him
to the light of loyalty, to deafen him to the call of honor?"

He was looking away from her as he spoke, but the girl came close to him
and caught his hands, and made him turn his face to her, and each saw
that the other's eyes were wet. Gabrielle spoke steadily, eagerly:

"You say that what you speak of happened very long ago. But we are to-day
as those were yesterday, and if I were the maid of your tale I would say
to the man that love is the best thing a true man can give to a true
woman, and that a woman who wore my body could lose no wealth, no
kingdom, to compare with the rich treasure of her lover's heart."

There was no mistaking the meaning of the girl, the meaning ringing in
her words, shining in her eyes, appealing in her out-stretched arms. To
Lagardere it seemed as if the kingdom of the world were offered to him.
He had but to keep silence, and his heart's desire was his. But he
remembered the night in the moat of Caylus, he remembered the purpose of
long years, he remembered his duty, he remembered his honor, and he
grappled with the dragon of passion, with the dragon of desire. Very
calmly he touched for a moment, with caressing hand, the hair of
Gabrielle. Very quietly he spoke.

"We are taking my fairy tale too gravely," he said. "It all happened long
ago, and has nothing to do with us. Our story is very different, and our
story is coming to a wonderful conclusion. This day is your last day of
doubt and ignorance, of solitude and poverty." He turned a little away
from her and murmured to h