She raised her head with a dainty gesture.

“You take a good deal for granted, Major Hone.”

“Faith, I know it!” he answered.  “It’s yourself that has turned my head.”

Her laugh held more than a hint of scorn.

“How amusing,” she commented, “for both of us!”

“Does it amuse you?” said Hone.

The question did not call for a reply, and she made none.  Only once more she gathered up some water out of the magic moonlit ripples, and tossed it in his face.

V

They reached their destination far ahead of any of the others.  A thick belt of jungle stretched down to the river where they landed, enveloping both banks a little higher up the stream.

“What an awesome place!” remarked Mrs. Perceval, as she stepped ashore.  “I hope the rest will arrive soon, or I shall develop an attack of nerves.”

“You’ve got me to take care of you,” suggested Hone.

She uttered her soft, little laugh.

“Faith, Major Hone, and I’m not at all sure that it isn’t yourself I want to run away from!”

Hone was securing the boat, and made no immediate response.  But as he straightened himself, he laughed also.

“Am I so formidable, then?”

She flashed a swift glance at him.

“I haven’t quite decided.”

“You have known me long enough,” he protested.

She shrugged her shoulders lightly.

“Have I ever met you before to-night?  I have no recollection of it.”

And mutely, with that chivalry which was to him the very air he breathed, Hone bowed to her ruling.  She would have no reference to the past.  It was to be a closed book to them both.  So be it, then!  For this night, at least, she would have her way.

He stepped forward in silence into the chequered shadow of the trees that surrounded the ruin, and she walked lightly by his side with that dainty, regal carriage of hers that made him yet in his secret heart call her his princess.

The place was very dark and eerie.  The shrill cries of flying-foxes, disturbed by their appearance, came through the magic silence.  But no living thing was to be seen, no other sound to be heard.

“I’m frightened,” said Nina suddenly.  “Shall we stop?”

“Hold my hand!” said Hone.

“I’m not joking,” she protested, with a shudder.

“Nor am I,” he said gently.

She looked up at him sharply, as though she did not quite believe him, and then unexpectedly and impulsively she laid her hand in his.

His fingers closed upon it with a friendly, reassuring pressure, and she never knew how the man’s heart leapt and the blood turned to liquid fire in his veins at her touch.

She gave a shaky little laugh as though ashamed of her weakness.  “We are coming to an open space,” she said.  “We shall see the satyrs dancing directly.”