Poor little Miss Pelham left him soon afterward, her head and heart ringing with the consciousness that she had at last driven him out of his customary reserve.  Mr. Saunders was pacing the street in the neighbourhood of the bank.  He had been waiting an hour or more, and he was green with jealousy.  She nodded sweetly to him and called him to the side of her conveyance.  “Don’t you want to walk beside me?” she asked.  And he trotted beside her like a faithful dog, all the way to the distant chateau.

The next morning the town bustled with a new excitement.  A trim, beautiful yacht, flying strange colours, steamed into the little harbour of Aratat.

She came to anchor much closer in than ships usually ventured, and an officer put off in the small boat, heading for the pier, which was already crowded with the native women and children.  Every one knew that the yacht brought the Princess who was to visit her ladyship; nothing else had been talked of among the women since the word first came down from the chateau that she was expected.

The Enemy came down from his bungalow, attracted by the unusual and inspiring spectacle of a ship at anchor.  A line of anxiety marked his brow.  Two figures had watched his windows all night long, sinister shadows that always met his eye when it penetrated the gloom of the moonlit forest.

Lord and Lady Deppingham were on the pier before him.  Excitement and joy illumined her face; her eyes were sparkling with anticipation; he could almost see that she trembled in her eagerness.  He came quite close to them before they saw him.  Exhilaration no doubt was responsible for the very agreeable smile of recognition that she bestowed upon him.  Or, perhaps it was inspired by womanly pity for the man whose loneliness was even greater and graver than her own.  The Enemy could do no less than go to them with his pleasantest acknowledgment.  His rugged face relaxed into a most charming, winsome smile, half-diffident, half-assured.

He passed among the wives of his clients without so much as a sign of recognition, coolly indifferent to the admiring glances that sought his face.  The dark, langourous eyes that flashed eager admiration a moment before now turned sullen with disappointment.  He had ignored their owners; he had avoided them as if they were dust heaps in the path; he had spurned them as if they were dogs by the roadside.  And yet he smiled upon the Englishwoman, he spoke with her, he admired her!  The sharp intake of breath that swept through the crowd told plainer than words the story of the angry eyes that followed him to the end of the pier, where the officer’s boat was landing.

“I have heard that you expect a visitor,” said the Enemy in his most agreeable manner.  Lady Deppingham had just told him that she had a friend aboard the yacht.

“Won’t you go aboard with us,” asked Deppingham, at a loss for anything better to say.  The Enemy shook his head and smiled.