She put her hands on my knees in her impulsive way, and bending forward looked at me delightedly.

“Oh, you do think so?”

“You are the loveliest and most intoxicating creature on the earth, Carlotta.”

“Now I am sure, sure, sure,” she cried, enraptured.  “You have never said it before, Seer Marcous darling, and I must kiss you.”

I checked her with my hands on her soft shoulders.

“Only if you promise to marry me.”

“Of course,” said Carlotta.

She said it as thoughtlessly and light-heartedly as if I had asked her to come out for a walk.  Again I felt the odd spasm of pain.  In my late madness I had often pictured the scene:  how I should hold her throbbing beauty in my arms, my senses clouded with the fragrance of her, and how, in burning words, I should pour out the litany of my passion.  But to the gods it seemed otherwise.  No Quaker maiden’s betrothal kiss was chaster.  Cold grew the fever in my veins and the litany died on my lips.

Who and what is she whom I love?  There have been days when her eyes have carried in their depths the allurements of a sorceress, when her limbs have woven Venusberg enchantments which it has taken all my strength to withstand.  But tonight, when I take the greatest step and claim her as mine till our lives’ end, she yields with the complaisance of an ignorant child and raises up between us the barrier of her innocence.  When shall I learn the soul of her?

Well, jacta est alea.  The events of to-night have precipitated our destiny.  In all probability Hamdi is powerless to take her from my protection, and this marriage is unnecessary as a safeguard.  I have no notion of the international law on such points—­but at any rate it will make the assurance of her safety absolute.  No power on earth can take her from me.  Great Heaven!  The thought of her gone forever out of my life brings the cold sweat to my forehead.  Without her, child, enchantress, changeling that she is, how could I face existence?

I shall have my heart’s desire.  Why, I should be athrill with the joy and the flame of youth!  I should laugh and sing!  I should perform the happy antics of love’s exuberance!  I should be transported to the realms where the fairy tales end!

Instead, I sit before a dying fire, as I sat last night, and am oppressed with the sense of tragedy.  It was not altogether Carlotta’s innocence that formed the barrier between us.  That which rendered it impassable was Judith’s white face.

Judith’s white face will haunt my dreams to-night.

CHAPTER XVI

October 27th