THE SAVAGE ISLAND
the woman's words, welcome, costume, and demoralizing beauty, all invited an adventure; he thought of the words of General Miragoâne.
Suddenly he contrasted this with the greeting of another woman but a fortnight before; a woman purely white in skin and soul. The contrast shocked him; every conscious motive of the man was toward principle, probity, decency, the things which gentlefolk do. La Fouchère tempted him sorely. Few prices would be too high to pay for the privilege of yielding to the rush of feeling which was almost overpowering him.
She looked up, smiling seductively.
"Welcome to La Coupe, mon prince" she murmured. The words were intended to excite him; to stroke his vanity. They acted as a cold plunge.
He was royalty elect; he was a man of destiny; his star was in the zenith; should he swerve now? He swept his great hand across his forehead and moistened his lips.
"Madam is gracious," he said, and taking her hands laid one upon the other and raised them to his lips. Just for the second her eyes flashed with savage, animal ferocity; then she laughed.
"It is necessary to be gracious to one's sovereign-to-be. 'The king can do no wrong,' else I would say that monseigneur was cold; does not appreciate the loyalty of his subjects." She clapped her hands. "Lights, Célèstine!"
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