ed it with growing confidence, improving
her memory each time, till suddenly in the middle of a bar there came the
rush and patter of feet, a yelp of sheer, exuberant delight, and Cinders,
the wanderer, wet, ecstatic, and quite shameless, leaped into her arms.

CHAPTER VI

THE SPELL

She hugged him to her heart in the darkness, all her fears swept away in
the immensity of her joy at his recovery.

"But, Cinders, how could you? How could you?" was the utmost reproof she
could find it in her heart to bestow upon the delinquent.

Cinders explained in his moist, eager way that it had been quite
unintentional, and that he was every whit as thankful to be back safe and
sound in her loving arms as she was to have him there. They discussed the
subject at length and forgave each other with considerable effusion,
eventually arriving at the conclusion that no blame attached to either.

And upon this arose the question, What of the Frenchman, Chris's _preux
chevalier_, who had so nobly adventured himself upon a fruitless quest?

"He promised he wouldn't be long," she reflected hopefully. "We shall
just have to wait till he turns up, that's all."

She would not suffer her rescued favourite to leave her arms again, and
they wiled away some time in the joy of reunion. But the minutes began to
drag more and more slowly, till at length anxiety came uppermost again.

Chris began to grow seriously uneasy. What could have happened to him?
Had he really lost his way? And if so what could she do?

Plainly nothing, but wait--wait--wait! And she was so tired of the
darkness; her eyes ached with it.

Her fears mustered afresh, fantastic fears this time. She began to see
green eyes glaring at her, to hear stealthy footfalls above the long,
deep roar of the sea, to feel the clammy presence of creatures unknown
and hostile. Cinders, too, weary of inaction, began to whimper, to lick
her face persuasively, and to suggest a move.

But Chris would not be persuaded. She could without doubt have groped her
way back to the cave where Bertrand kept his magic, and even thence to
the shore. But she did not for a moment contemplate such a proceeding.
She would have felt like a soldier deserting his post. Sooner or later
Bertrand would return and look for her here, and here he must find her.

But her fears were growing more vivid every moment, and when Cinders,
infected thereby, began to growl below his breath and to bristle under
her ha