and the challenge was one he hungered to accept.

He made a tremendous effort for self-mastery and rose slowly, turning a
white face on his visitor.

"You told me," he said, enunciating each word with distinct
deliberateness, "that you would fight me, when your throne freed you.
You begin promptly. I am here, but--"

"I think you misunderstand me," interrupted Karyl.

"But," went on Benton, ignoring the interruption, "neither of us is free
to fight. If we were, Pagratide, you may guess how gladly I'd put it to
the issue. Good God, man, what could I lose?"

"Wait," said the late King of Galavia. "I have come here to talk with
you, Benton, in a way which is unspeakably hard. Can you not make the
same effort to lay aside passion that I am making?"

The American turned and paced the floor.

For a moment more there was the same embarrassed silence between them,
then the Galavian continued, measuring his words, speaking with
desperately studied effort to eliminate the feeling that struggled to
the surface.

"You love my wife."

"And shall," replied the American in the same calculated, colorless
voice, "while I live."

"I, too," said Pagratide. "Therefore we must talk."

"Wait." Benton raised a hand. "If we are to talk at all along these
lines, Pagratide, there is only one way in which it can be done."

"And that is what?"

"That each of us, throughout, talks with only one thought in mind: her
happiness; that one strip aside all conventions and talk as two utterly
naked souls might talk."

"Of course," said Karyl simply. "Otherwise I should not have suggested
it."

"Then," began Benton, "up to this point we are agreed."

The King, despite his pallor, smiled.

"I'm afraid you still don't understand me. I haven't come to murder you,
or to invite murder, Benton. It would not help."

"You have just said that one of us is an interloper. Presumably you have
come to decide which one it is."

Karyl shook his head.

"Benton, that point has been decided. Not by you or me, but it is
decided."

"I don't understand you," admitted the American.

His visitor studied the few remaining lights in the garden beneath.

"I am no longer a King. I am an outcast. If I ever had a claim before
God, it passed with my Crown. I could hold her now only by brutality. I
told you I would free her and fight for her, but I saw her eyes
to-night.... Benton, it is I who am the interloper!"

No answer came to Benton's tongue. Pagra