“You will be better soon.”

His heart stood still.

“You will be better—­”

Against his rough cheek there fell the soft pressure of a woman’s lips.

Nathaniel pulled himself erect, every drop of blood in him striving for the mastery of his body, his vision, his strength.  He tried to turn, but strong arms seized him from behind.  A man’s voice spoke to him, a man’s strength held him.  In an agony of appeal Marion’s name burst from his lips.

“Sh-h-!” warned the voice behind him.  “Are you crazy?”

The arms relaxed their hold and Nathaniel dragged himself to his knees.  The woman was gone.  As far as he could see there were people—­scores of them, hundreds of them—­multiplied into thousands and millions as he looked, until there was only a black cloud about him.  He staggered to his feet and a strong hand kept him from falling while his brain slowly cleared.  The millions and thousands and hundreds of people dissolved themselves into the day until only a handful was left where he had seen multitudes.  He turned his face weakly to the man beside him.

“Where did she go?” he asked.

It was a boyish face into which his pleading eyes gazed, a face white with the strain of battle, reddened a little on one cheek with a smear of blood, and there was a startled, frightened look in it that did not come of the strife that had passed.

“Who?  What are you talking about?”

“The woman,” whispered Nathaniel.  “The woman—­Marion—­who kissed—­me—­”

The young fellow’s hand gripped his arm in a sudden fierce clutch.

“You’ve been dreaming!” he exclaimed in a threatening voice.  “Shut up!” He spoke the words loudly.  Then quickly dropping his voice to a whisper he added, “For God’s sake don’t betray her!  They saw her with us—­everybody knows that it was the king’s wife with you!”

The king’s wife!  Nathaniel was too weak to analyze the words beyond the fact that they carried the dread truth of his fears deep into his soul.  Who would have come to him but Marion?  Who else would have kissed him?  It was her voice that had whispered in his ear—­the thrill of her hand that had passed over his face.  And this man had said that she was the wife of the king!  He heard the voices of other men near him but did not understand what they were saying.  He knew that after a moment there was a man on each side of him holding him by the arms, and mechanically he moved his legs, knowing that they wanted him to walk.  They did not guess how weak he was—­how he struggled to keep from becoming too great a weight on their hands.  Once or twice they stopped in their agonizing climb up the hill.  On its top the cool sea air swept into Nathaniel’s face and it was like water to a parched throat.