a long breath, opened his
eyes, and stared wildly about him. Seeing no one but me he grew
bewildered, and asked:

"What has happened?"

Then catching sight of the drawn swords lying still on the ground where
they had been thrown, he sprang to his feet, and cried:

"Where is the coward and murderer?"

I made him sit down and hear with patience what I had to say. I
reminded him that Zara's health and happiness had always been perfect,
and that her brother would rather have slain himself than her. I told
him plainly that Zara had expected her death, and had prepared for
it--had even bade me good-bye, although then I had not understood the
meaning of her words. I recalled to his mind the day when Zara had used
her power to repulse him.

"Disbelieve as you will in electric spiritual force," I said. "Your
message to her then through me was--TELL HER I HAVE SEEN HER LOVER."

At these words a sombre shadow flitted over the Prince's face.

"I tell you," he said slowly, "that I believe I was on that occasion
the victim of an hallucination. But I will explain to you what I saw. A
superb figure, like, and yet unlike, a man, but of a much larger and
grander form, appeared to me, as I thought, and spoke. 'Zara is mine,'
it said--'mine by choice; mine by freewill; mine till death; mine after
death; mine through eternity. With her thou hast naught in common; thy
way lies elsewhere. Follow the path allotted to thee, and presume no
more upon an angel's patience.' Then this Strange majestic-looking
creature, whose face, as I remember it, was extraordinarily beautiful,
and whose eyes were like self-luminous stars, vanished. But, after all,
what of it? The whole thing was a dream."

"I am not so sure of that," I said quietly, "But, Prince Ivan, now that
you are calmer and more capable of resignation, will you tell me why
you loved Zara?"

"Why!" he broke out impetuously. "Why, because it was impossible to
help loving her."

"That is no answer," I replied. "Think! You can reason well if you
like--I have heard you hold your own in an argument. What made you love
Zara?"

He looked at me in a sort of impatient surprise, but seeing I was very
much in earnest, he pondered a minute or so before replying.

"She was the loveliest woman I have ever seen!" he said at last, and in
his voice there was a sound of yearning and regret.

"Is THAT all?" I queried, with a gesture of contempt. "Because her body
was beautiful--because she had s