no result. Once for all, hear and understand;—this one man has become dear to me, and, what is more, is honoured by me. I shall be true to him, and I shall defend him—as he has given truth and defence to me."
The words were very passionless, but they were inflexible as steel; his face changed lividly as he heard.
"Wait! You know the fate we give deserters?"
"Death? Well, you can slay me if you will. It will worthily close your course. Be sure of this—you will not scare me with the threat of it."
"Threat! Miladi, you will íind it more than threat."
"Too likely. But I shall be his before it is borne out."
"What! you love him well enough to risk death for him—such a death!—by night, by stealth, in your beauty, in your youth!"
"Else should I love little."
The Greek looked at her in silence for a moment. He had dealt with her in many moods, but never yet in one where this emotion ruled her. He had never known its pulse beat in her; he was stunned and bewildered by his own rage; he could almost have found it in his soul to deal her there and
