Zuleika turned to the Duke. "You were
splendid," she said softly. He knew that very well. Does the stag in his
hour of victory need a diploma from the hind? Holding in his hands the
malachite casket that was the symbol of his triumph, the Duke smiled
dictatorially at his darling. He came near to thinking of her as a
chattel. Then with a pang he remembered his abject devotion to her.
Abject no longer though! The victory he had just won restored his
manhood, his sense of supremacy among his fellows. He loved this woman
on equal terms. She was transcendent? So was he, Dorset. To-night
the world had on its moonlit surface two great ornaments--Zuleika and
himself. Neither of the pair could be replaced. Was one of them to be
shattered? Life and love were good. He had been mad to think of dying.

No word was spoken as they went together to Salt Cellar. She expected
him to talk about her conjuring tricks. Could he have been disappointed?
She dared not inquire; for she had the sensitiveness, though no other
quality whatsoever, of the true artist. She felt herself aggrieved. She
had half a mind to ask him to give her back her ear-rings. And by the
way, he hadn't yet thanked her for them! Well, she would make allowances
for a condemned man. And again she remembered the omen of which he had
told her. She looked at him, and then up into the sky. "This same moon,"
she said to herself, "sees the battlements of Tankerton. Does she see
two black owls there? Does she hear them hooting?"

They were in Salt Cellar now. "Melisande!" she called up to her window.

"Hush!" said the Duke, "I have something to say to you."

"Well, you can say it all the better without that great box in your
hands. I want my maid to carry it up to my room for me." And again she
called out for Melisande, and received no answer. "I suppose she's in
the house-keeper's room or somewhere. You had better put the box down
inside the door. She can bring it up later."

She pushed open the postern; and the Duke, as he stepped across the
threshold, thrilled with a romantic awe. Re-emerging a moment later into
the moonlight, he felt that she had been right about the box: it was
fatal to self-expression; and he was glad he had not tried to speak
on the way from the Front Quad: the soul needs gesture; and the Duke's
first gesture now was to seize Zuleika's hands in his.

She was too startled to move. "Zuleika!" he whispered. She was too angry
to speak, but with a sudden