“Faith, if we do, we’ll join them,” declared Hone cheerily.

“They would never admit us,” she answered.  “They hate mortals.  Can’t you feel them glaring at us from every tree?  Why, I can breathe hostility in the very air.”

She missed her footing as she spoke, and stumbled with a sharp cry.  Hone held her up with that steady strength of his that was ever equal to emergencies, but to his surprise she sprang forward, pulling him with her, almost before she had fully recovered her balance.

“Oh, come, quick, quick!” she gasped.  “I trod on something—­something that moved!”

He went with her, for she would not be denied, and in a few seconds they emerged into a narrow clearing in the jungle in which stood the ruin of a small domed temple.

Nina Perceval was shaking all over in a positive frenzy of fear, and clinging fast to Hone’s arm.

“What was it?” he asked her, trying gently to disengage himself.  “Was it a snake that scared you?”

She shuddered violently.  “Yes, it must have been.  A cobra, I should think.  Oh, what are you going to do?”

“It’s all right,” Hone said soothingly.  “You stay here a minute!  I’ve got some matches.  I’ll just go back a few yards and investigate.”

But at that she cried out so sharply that he thought for a moment that something had hurt her.  But the next instant he understood, and again has heart leapt and strained within him like a chained thing.

“No, Pat!  No, no, no!  You shall do no such thing!” Incoherently the words rushed out, and with them the old familiar name, uttered all unawares.  “Do you think I’d let you go?  Why, the place may be thronged with snakes.  And you—­you have nothing to defend yourself with.  How can you dream of such a thing?”

He heard her out with absolute patience.  His face betrayed no sign of the tumult within.  It remained perfectly courteous and calm.  Yet when he spoke he, too, it seemed, had gone back to the old intimate days that lay so far behind them.

“Yes, but, Princess,” he said, “what about our pals?  If there is any real danger we can’t let them come stumbling into it.  We’ll have to warn them.”

She was still clinging to his arm, and her hands tightened.  For an instant she seemed about to renew her wild protest, but something—­was it the expression in the man’s steady eyes?—­checked her.

She stood a moment silent.  Then, “You’re quite right, Pat,” she said, her voice very low.  “We’ll go straight back to the boat and stop them.”

Her hands relaxed and fell from his arm, but Hone stood hesitating.

“You’ll let me go first?” he said.  “You stay here in the open!  I’ll come back for you.”

But at that her new-found docility at once evaporated.  “I won’t!” she declared vehemently.  “I won’t!  Don’t be so ridiculous!  Of course I am coming with you.  Do you suppose I would let you go alone?”