"Not here--oh, I mean not--"

"Here! I would willingly kneel here and kiss the hem of your skirt. I
should be proud that all should see, Anne. . . . Ah, let us not
dissemble--"

Anne, thoroughly agitated, suddenly faced the Prince.

"Stop! I want you to," she interrupted. "You must. You must not say
such things--" she paused, conscious that the eyes of many to whom she
had purposed presenting the Prince were turned curiously upon them,
although fortunately, from distances comparatively remote. She forced
a vivacious smile for the benefit of observers and continued, "You must
not say these things until I tell you you may. . . . Now, please!" as
the Prince showed indications of disobeying her wishes.

He kept silence and as some manifestations of sulkiness, not inclined
to encourage Anne in her intentions of introducing him generally,
revealed themselves, she turned and led the way back to the car, where
Armitage sat hunched, in no blithe mood himself.

In plying him with questions as to himself and his deeds, which
developed a mood ardently vainglorious, Anne skilfully led Koltsoff's
trend of thought from amatory channels. They stopped at Paradise and
Anne and the Prince walked from the roadside across a stretch of gorse
to a great crevice in the cliffs, known as the "Lover's Leap."

"Here," said the girl, imitating the manner of a guide, "legend says an
Indian maiden, very beautiful, was walking with one of her suitors,
when a rival accosted them. They drew their knives and were about to
fight, when the girl interposed. Pointing to the chasm she declared
she would marry the man who first jumped across it."

"Ah, the time-worn lover's leap! They have them in England, Russia,
Germany--everywhere. America not to be behind--" the Prince wrinkled
his brows. "Let me see how closely the Indians followed their European
originals. Did they leap?"

"They did," smiled the girl. "Both, I believe, were killed." She
peered into the dark fissure where the waters wound among the crags
fifty feet below. "Ugh! What a fall! Their love must have been
wonderfully compelling."

"So," replied the Prince, gallantly, "and yet I should do it for a
smile from you or at most for a--" he bowed low, seized her hand, and
deftly bore it to his lips.

She drew it away hastily, a wave of irritation flushing her face, and a
powerful revulsion from her former mood of exaltation took possession
of her whole being.

"You