in whom I had confidence.
What is that but betrayal?"

"I do not profess to understand the ways of courts, monsieur," said
Pauline, gathering a little courage, since the King appealed to her as a
fellow mortal. "But in your case I do not think I should blame
Mademoiselle Joan. She did not go because she had ceased to love you,
monsieur. Sometimes a woman can love a man so well that she will leave
him if she thinks it is for his good."

A light broke in on the darkness. Was Joan the victim of some deadly
intrigue such as had sullied too often the records of the Kosnovian
monarchy? How strange it was that he should come from that eventful
meeting of the Cabinet and receive within the hour Joan's pathetic
message of farewell! He stood and thought deeply again for many minutes,
striving to conquer his laboring heart and throbbing brain, exerting
manfully all his splendid resources of mind and body. Then he turned to
the trembling Frenchwoman and said with almost uncanny gentleness:

"You have done what your mistress asked, Pauline. Come to me to-morrow
before you go, and I will reward you for your faithful service. Leave me
now; but tell none what has happened. I must have time to think, and it
would help me if no other person in this house but you shares with me
the knowledge of mademoiselle's departure."

Pauline went out, glad of her dismissal, yet sobbing with sympathy. Alec
began to pace the length of the long dimly lighted room. Back and forth
he went, thinking, knitting his brows in fierce effort to subdue his
stunned faculties. By degrees the sad significance of Joan's words and
actions during their visit that morning to the New Konak began to
establish itself. He saw now that she was bidding farewell to her dream
of happiness, deliberately torturing herself with a burden of memories.
Even their parting kiss must have given her a twinge of direst agony;
for the one thing he would never believe of Joan was that she had
sacrificed him to some feminine whim, made him the sport of a woman's
caprice.

She had been driven from him! By whom? He must discover that, and he
gloated with almost insensate rage at the thought of strangling with his
hands the wretch who had done this callous deed. Physical passion
mastered him again, and it was not until he realized the folly of merely
dreaming of vengeance that he forced himself anew into a semblance of
calm. He knew that a man blinded with rage could not deal sanely with