nge light of hope that had illumined it at the pool.

"If I could believe," she whispered, still looking beyond him. "If I
could trust you, as I have read that the maidens of old trusted their
knights. But--it seems impossible. In those days, centuries and
centuries ago, I guess, womanhood was next to--God. Men fought for it,
and died for it, to keep it pure and holy. If you had come to me then
you would have levelled your lance and fought for me without asking a
question, without demanding a reward, without reasoning whether I was
right or wrong--and all because I was a woman. Now it is different. You
are a part of civilization, and if you should do all that I might ask
of you it would be because you have a price in view. I know. I have
looked into you. I understand. That price would be--ME!"

She looked at him now, her breast throbbing, almost a sob in her
quivering voice, defying him to deny the truth of her words.

"You have struck home," he said, and his voice sounded strange to
himself. "And I am not sorry. I am glad that you have seen--and
understand. It seems almost indecent for me to tell you this, when I
have known you for such a short time. But I have known you for
years--in my hopes and dreams. For you I would go to the end of the
world. And I can do what other men have done, centuries ago. They
called them knights. You may call me a MAN!"

At his words she rose from where she had been sitting. She faced the
radiant walls of the forests that rolled billow upon billow in the
distance, and the sun lighted up her crown of hair in a glory. One hand
still clung to her breast. She was breathing even more quickly, and the
flush had deepened in her cheek until it was like the tender stain of
the crushed bakneesh. Philip rose and stood beside her. His shoulders
were back. He looked where she looked, and as he gazed upon the red and
gold billows of forest that melted away against the distant sky he felt
a new and glorious fire throbbing in his veins. From the forests their
eyes turned--and met. He held out his hand. And slowly her own hand
fluttered at her breast, and was given to him.

"I am quite sure that I understand you now," he said, and his voice was
the low, steady, fighting voice of the man new-born. "I will be your
knight, as you have read of the knights of old. I will urge no reward
that is not freely given. Now--will you let me help you?"

For a moment she allowed him to hold her hand. Then she gently