hen. Amongst her gifts, she has a marvellous sense of
justice and a hatred of any form of bribery. That is where I feel
convinced that she and Immelan will never come together. Immelan could
never see more than the selfish side, even of a world upheaval. Naida
searches everywhere for motive. She has the altruistic instinct. I
wonder no longer at Matinsky. She is a born ruler herself."

"I'm glad you are getting along with her," Maggie remarked. "Look!" she
broke off, catching at his arm. "The violet lights!"

High up in the sky outside, two violet specks of light suddenly rose and
fell like airballs. A crowd of mechanics appeared through subterranean
doors and stood about in the vast arena. Very soon the airship came into
sight, her cars brilliantly illuminated. She circled slowly round and
came noiselessly to the ground, and with the mechanics running by her
side, and her engines now scarcely audible, came slowly into the shed
and to a standstill by the side of the platform. Maggie and her
companion stood well in the background.

"There he is," the latter whispered.

Immelan, suddenly appeared as though from the bowels of the earth, was
shaking hands warmly with a tall, slender man who was one of the first
to descend from the airship. They talked rapidly together for a few
minutes. Then they disappeared, walking down towards the
luggage-clearing station. Maggie watched the retreating figures
earnestly.

"He doesn't look in the least Chinese," she declared.

"I told you he didn't," Nigel replied. "He was considered the
best-looking man of his year up at Oxford."

Maggie was unusually silent on their way back.

"It was perhaps scarcely worth our while, this little expedition of
ours," Maggie said thoughtfully.

"You're not sorry that we came?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I think not," she replied.

"Why only 'think'?"

She roused herself with an effort.

"I don't know, Nigel," she confessed. "I can't imagine what is wrong
with me. I feel shivery--nervous--as though something were going to
happen."

He looked at her curiously. This was a Maggie whom he scarcely
recognised.

"Presentiments?" he asked.

"Absurd, isn't it!" she replied, with a weak smile. "I'll get over it
directly. I don't think I am going to like Prince Shan, Nigel."

"Well, you haven't been long making up your mind," he observed. "I
shouldn't have thought you had been able even to see his face."

"I had a queer, lightning-like