along her gown. Carven chains and
necklaces were upon her throat, and bracelets of beaten gold and
jewels upon her arms. About her forehead glittered a jeweled band
with pendent gems which, at her moving, were like noon sun upon
water.

As he realized that this was indeed she whom he had come to seek,
only to find her hedged about with difficulties--and it might be by
divinities--which he had not dreamed of coping, a kind of madness
seized St. George. The lights danced before his eyes, and his
impulse had to do with rushing up to the dais and crying everybody
defiance but Olivia. On the moon-lit deck of _The Aloha_ he had
dreamed out the island and the rescue of the island princess, and a
possible home-going on his yacht to a home about which he had even
dared to dream, too. But it had not once occurred to him to forecast
such a contingency as this, or, later, so to explain to himself
Prince Tabnit's change of purpose in permitting her recognition as
Princess of Yaque--indeed, if what Jarvo and Akko had told him in
New York were accurate, in bringing her to the island at all. And
yet what, he thought crazily, if his guess at her part in this
betrothal were far wrong? What if her father's safety were not the
only consideration? What if, not unnaturally dazzled by the
fairy-land which had opened to her ... even while he feared, St.
George knew far better. But the number of terrors possible to a man
in love is equal to those of battle-fields.

Amory bent toward him, murmuring excitedly.

"Jupiter," he said, "is she the American girl?"

"She's Miss Holland," answered St. George miserably.

"No--no, not the princess," said Amory, "the other."

St. George looked. On the stair was a little figure in rose and
silver--very tiny, very fair, and no doubt the lawyer's daughter.

"I dare say it is," he told him, as one would say, "Now what the
deuce of it?"

Prince Tabnit had risen to receive Olivia, and St. George had to see
him extend his hand and assist her beside him upon the dais. In the
absence of her father she was obliged to stand alone. Then the
little figure in rose and silver and one of the daughters of the
peers advanced and lifted her veil, and St. George wanted to shout
with sudden exultation. This then was she--so near, so near. Surely
no great harm could come to them so long as the sea and the mystery
of the island no longer lay between them. Did she know of his
presence? Although he and Amory were seated