e tale from Metem. Then, guessing all, I came
hither to try to save you."

"But how could you guess all, lady?"

"In a strange fashion, Prince." And in a few words she told him her
dream.

"This is marvellous indeed, that you should be warned of my danger by
visions," he said wondering, and half-doubtingly.

"So marvellous, Prince, that you do not believe me," Elissa answered.
"I know well what you think. You think that a woman to whom this
very morning you spoke such words as women cannot well forgive, being
revengeful laid a plot to murder you, and then, being a woman, changed
her mind. Well, it is not so; Metem can prove it to you!"

"Lady, I believe you," he said, "without needing the testimony of Metem.
But now the story grows still more strange, for if you had done me no
wrong, how comes it that to preserve me from harm you set your tender
flesh between the arrow and one who had reviled you?"

"It was by chance," she answered faintly. "I learnt the truth and ran
to warn you. Then I saw the arrow fly towards your heart, and strove to
grasp it, and it pierced me. It was by chance, by such a chance as made
me dream your danger." And she fainted.

CHAPTER VIII

AZIEL PLIGHTS HIS TROTH

At first Aziel feared that the poison had done its work, and that
Elissa was dead, till placing his hand upon her heart he felt it beating
faintly, and knew that she did but swoon. To leave her to seek water
or assistance was impossible, since he dared not loose his hold of the
bandage about her wrist. So, patiently as he might, he knelt at her side
awaiting the return of Metem.

How beautiful her pale face seemed there in the moonlight, set in its
frame of dusky hair. And how strange was this tale of hers, of a dream
that she had dreamed, a dream which, to save his own, led her to offer
her life to the murderer's arrow. Many would not believe it, but he felt
that it was true; he felt that even if she wished it she could not lie
to him, for as he had known since first they met, their souls were
open to each other. Yes, having thus been warned of his danger, she
had offered her life for him--for him who that morning had called her,
unjustly so Metem said, "a girl of the groves and a murderess." How came
it that she had done this, unless indeed she loved him as--he loved her?

Aziel could no longer palter with himself, it was the truth. Last night
when Issachar accused him, he had felt this, although then he would not
ad