words," she continued, "seemed to carry conviction. I felt a hot
tear fall on my hand, and there was silence. The next moment he stood up
and salaamed gravely. 'Lady of my dreams,' he said, 'you have conquered.
I will let you go ... at a price!'

"'What is the price?' I asked fearfully. He looked like a martyr.

"'My life,' he replied. 'I can give you up, but I can not live without
you. You are free, but I must die.'"

"Damned actor!" burst out Lionel, in the depths of despair, for he
foresaw the end. "I beg your pardon--I beg your pardon--but----"

"He really _meant_ it," said the lady with some petulance. "Please
control yourself while I finish. Of course I could not think of allowing
him to kill himself, so I reasoned with him. It was useless, for he was
resolved. I even offered, at last, to resign my freedom and remain with
him on the old terms: again he refused. 'No,' he said; 'it can not be,
Dispenser of Delight. I have suffered too much. You must marry me or bid
good-by to Turkey.'"

"So you married him?" said Lionel gloomily. He had forgotten all his
earlier doubts.

"Yes. I could not bear to think of his suicide, for I liked him very
well. Besides, I had grown less sentimental during my two years of
'life,' and believed I should find more happiness in such a union than
in many that are supposed to be made for 'love.' But I must admit that
romance found, and still finds, a corner in my heart. The primitive idea
of marriage by capture is even now immensely popular. You see, the
figure of Lukos, passionate, brave, reckless, fiery, ready to kill
himself----"

"Oh, say he was a demigod," interrupted Lionel with bitterness, "and let
us pass on."

"All these Byronic attributes," said the lady calmly, "combined to whip
my reluctant liking into a passable resemblance to love.... Well, I let
him go--as far as the door. As he was opening it I made my decision and
whispered '_Lukos!_' He turned, looking like a magnificent tiger,
crouching for a spring. A light gleamed from his eyes, rivaling the
flash of his jeweled sword-hilt. With a bound----"

"Quite so--quite so!" said Lionel uncomfortably: the idea of being
audience to such a love-scene was most repugnant. "I see--I see ... of
course he would be immensely pleased--in fact, quite another man. Well,
you married him----?"

"The next day," said the lady. "The Patriarch of Jerusalem, who happened
to be visiting the city at the time, made us one. And then I sett