ath for the
perilous attempt, she saw the man himself stand still and straighten up.
Then, before she could utter the warning,--before her own little mouth
was ready,--the shadowy silence of the wood was broken, not by the
dreaded warwhoop, but by an imitation, startlingly perfect, of the notes
of a quail.

That this was a signal to his followers she had no doubt. But suddenly,
while these clear notes were yet in the air, the stillness of the pines
was again disturbed by a cry--a cry of joy, intense and
uncontrolled--from behind her, toward the river. She turned about. In
astonishment she saw the grief-stricken maiden--a moment ago too weak to
walk alone--already lifted from the rustic bench as by a heavenly hand,
now flying in this direction over the brown carpet of the pines, swift
and light of foot, with wings, it seemed. The savage, too, had heard the
cry and already he was running toward the approaching figure. And he
passed so near the Princess that he would have seen her had he wished.

They met, the wild man and the girl. And the mystified
spectator--mystified for a moment only--saw the maiden fling herself
upon this denizen of the wood and twine her arms about his neck. And he,
with a passionate eagerness, embraced her, then held her at arms'
length, that again he might draw her to him, kissing her hair, mouth,
forehead.

From the rapturous confusion of exclamations, of questions interrupted
and unanswered, the Princess understood. For a moment she looked on in
wonder, fascinated by this astounding miracle. But she soon recovered.
With a lump in her throat she began backing away, to escape unobserved.
Elinor, through her tears, happened to see the movement and came
forward, leading the savage by the hand. With a new light in her eyes,
and her voice all a-quiver, she exclaimed:

"This is my Pats!"

The Princess courtesied.

"And, Pats, this is the Princess--the Princess de Champvalliers: our
girl of the miniature."

Pats nodded--for he recognized the eyes with the drooping corners--and
he smiled and bowed. And the Princess, as she looked into his face and
forgot the wild hair and scrubby beard, the stains, the rags, and the
nakedness, met a pair of unusually cheerful, honest eyes, and
impulsively held out her hand.

[Illustration]

XVIII

A NUNNERY?

In very few words Pats told his story.

As Elinor had believed, he was forced beneath the water by the sliding
earth and stones; but inste