“I crave it of thee as a favour,” I heard him say.
“So soon?” she replied. “Art already tired of Neit-akrit’s hospitality? Has she forgot aught that would make thy sojourn here a happy one? Tell me, is not my palace beautiful? Are my gardens not fragrant with scent of flowers, the air not sweet with song of birds?”
“Thy dwelling is more beautiful than aught I have ever dreamed of.”
“And yet thou wouldst leave it?”
“I crave of thee to forgive my seeming ingratitude, for though fair be thy palace and fragrant thy garden, I would fain leave them to-day.”
“Leave them and me?” she said sadly.
“Ay! leave them and thee, Princess,” said Hugh, with that same icy calm with which he responded to Neit-akrit’s fascinating ways, “lest if I remained even one day longer, I might leave that behind me which is more precious to me than aught else on earth.”
“What is that?” she asked. “Thou needst not fear, I will guard it for thee, wherever thou goest.”
“Nay, a man is sole guardian of that most precious treasure; women often do not know its worth, and I fear I am proving but a sorry keeper myself, hence the reason why I would go.”
“Wilt say farewell to me before thou goest?”