eply. "I was a spy for him. You are a
spy--against him."

"It was a deliberate plot, then!" Maggie exclaimed, trying to feel the
anger which she imparted to her tone.

La Belle Nita suddenly laughed, softly and like a bird.

"You very, very foolish Englishwoman," she said. "A hand leaned down
from Heaven, and you liked better to stay where you were, but I am
glad."

"And why?"

"Because I have been his slave," the girl continued. "At odd, strange
moments he has shown me a little love, he has let me creep into a small
corner of his heart. Now I am cast out, and there is no more life for me
because there is no more love, and there is no more love because, having
felt his, no other can come after. Here have I sat with all the tortures
of Hell burning in my blood because I knew that you and he were there
alone, because I was never sure that, after all, I was not doing my
lord's will. And now I know that I suffered in vain. You did not
understand."

Maggie looked across at her visitor reflectively. She was beginning to
regain her poise.

"Listen," she said, "did you seriously expect me to accept Prince Shan
as a lover?"

The girl's eyes were round with wonder.

"It would be your great good fortune," she murmured, "if he should offer
you so wonderful a thing."

Maggie laughed,--persisted in her laugh, although it sounded a little
hard and the mirth a little forced.

"I cannot reason with you," she declared, "because you would not
understand. If you love him so much, why not go back to him? You will
find him quite alone. I dare say you know the secrets of his lockless
doors and hordes of unseen servants."

La Belle Nita rose to her feet. About her lips there flickered the
faintest smile.

"Young English lady," she said, "I shall not go, because I am shut for
ever out of his heart. But listen; would you have me go?"

For a moment Maggie's poise was gone again. A strange uncertainty was
once more upon her. She was terrified at her own feelings. The smile on
the other's lips deepened and then passed away.

"Ah," she murmured, as with a little bow she turned towards the door,
"you are not all snow and ice, then! There is something of the woman in
you. He must have known that. I am better content."

Alone in the box, Maggie was confronted once more with spectres. She
felt all the fear and the sweetness of this new awakening. The old
dangers and problems, the danger of life and death, the problem of her
well-o