what slowly, De Noyan busted himself with the meal, and, thus
engrossed, apparently forgot the topic of our conversation.

"And did this Queen Naladi claim to belong to this old race?" I
questioned, thinking thus to test his observation.

"Why not?" he asked in return, suspending operations, and glancing up
at me in surprise. "She referred to herself as the 'Daughter of the
Sun,' once saying that her ancestors ruled over this people for a
thousand years."

"She told you that?"

"At least so the black interpreted her words. Why question it?"

"Doubtless to your thought there exists small cause for questioning the
word of so fair a woman," I acknowledged dryly. "Yet to my vision, not
wholly blinded by her charms, she possesses more of the Caucasian in
face and manner than any other of the race. If she is not of European
birth I am a poor judge, Monsieur, and 't is my belief, if she told you
she was not, the woman lied."

I was scarcely prepared for the result of my words upon him; his face
flushed, a sudden glow of anger sweeping into his eyes.

"You are, indeed, of bold heart," he exclaimed scornfully, "to malign a
woman in her absence."

"There are women no words can malign," I retorted sharply, stung by his
tone, "I opine this Queen of savages belongs to that class. To my mind
it would be better were you to wax indignant over the wrongs of your
wife rather than over a just picturing of this harlot."

Before I could move to draw aside, he was upon his feet, and I felt the
stinging blow of his hand across my lips.

"_Sacre_!" he cried, transported by sudden rage, "Charles de Noyan
takes such affront from no man. I denounce you as a cowardly vilifier
of an absent woman."

I know not why I failed to strike the fellow down. My hand was hard on
the knife hilt within my doublet, yet I drew it not as we stood there
eye to eye. There was that between us--the dim, shadowy face of a
woman--which held me as by a chain. It seemed to me then as if my
knife point would have to pass through her before it touched his heart,
and, feeling thus, God gave me power to choke back the hot resentment,
and restrain my hand.

"Monsieur," I said sternly, "never has the hand of man touched me
before in anger without my making full return for the blow. Yet now I
strike you not. The time may come when I shall wipe out this insult,
but here and now you stand safe from my arm."

"Safe!" he sneered. "_Parbleu_! you are a cow