he rising to communicate the great news, and to tell about Jarvo,
waiting in a motor out there in the palace courtyard, by the wall on
the side opposite the windows of the banquet room. In an auspicious
moment Amory looked warily about, thrilling with premonition of his
friend's enthusiasm.

Before he could speak, St. George uttered a startled exclamation,
caught at Amory's arm, sprang forward, and was off up the long room,
dragging Amory with him.

About the dais there was suddenly an appalling confusion. Push of
feet, murmurs, a cry and, visible over the heads between, a
glistening of gold uniforms closing about the throne seats, flashing
back to the long, open windows, disappearing against the night...

"What is it?" cried Amory as he ran. "What is it?"

"Quick," said St. George only, "I don't know. They've gone with
her."

Amory did not understand, but he saw that Olivia's seat was empty;
and when he swept the heads for her white veil, it was not there.

"Who has?" he said.

St. George swerved to the side of the room toward the windows, and
old Malakh stood there, crying out and pointing.

"The guard, I think," St. George answered, and was over the low sill
of a window, running headlong across the courtyard, Amory behind
him. "There they go," St. George cried. "Good God, what are we to
do? There they go."

Amory looked. Down a side avenue--one of those tunnels of shadow
that taught the necessity of mystery--a great motor car was
speeding, and in the dimness the two men could see the white of
Olivia's floating veil.

At this, Amory wheeled and searched the length of wall across the
yard. If only--if only--

There on the side of the courtyard opposite the windows of the
banquet room stood the motor that was that night to go back to
Melita. Bolt upright on the seat was Jarvo, and climbing in the
tonneau, with his neck stretched toward the confusion of the palace,
was Rollo. Jarvo saw Amory, who beckoned; and in an instant the car
was beside them and the two men were over the back of the tonneau in
a flash.

"That way," cried St. George, with no time to waste on the miracle
of Jarvo's appearance, "that way--there. Where you see the white."

At a touch the motor plunged away into the fragrant darkness. Amory
looked back. Figures crowded the windows of the palace, and streamed
from the banquet hall into the courtyard. Men hurried through the
hall, and there was clamour of voices, and in the honey-coloure