Volinè's visits became more and more frequent. Rarely a day passed now that she did not either come in person, or send one of her attendant maids with flowers or fruits for the captives, but these gifts were really meant for Graham alone. She exercised her royal prerogative and showed her marked preference for him in many ways. We were also allowed more liberty, presumably through her intercession, and were now even permitted to walk for a short time each day in an enclosed garden below our prison windows. This was a great boon, as the close confinement was beginning to tell upon us greatly, seasoned as we were to the lack of exercise through our long sojourn in the Sirius.
We had been in prison five weeks, when the love affair between Graham and Volinè assumed a more decided phase. Volinè and he were lovers; more to each other than either thought or knew. Fierce and uncontrollable love was smouldering in each heart, requiring but some accidental spark to set the whole aflame. This was not long in coming. A secret meeting was arranged between them. Kaosp being Love's ambassador, he conveyed the welcome news to Graham that Volinè wished to see him in the grounds. Needless to say, the Doctor was highly displeased at this; but being in the minority he had the good sense to let matters take their own course, satisfying himself by warning Graham of the risk he ran.
Kaosp, too, showed some reluctance to be a party to this meeting. He feared discovery, and the King's anger; but pressure had evidently been put upon him, and as the dusk of evening deepened, he came, and secretly conducted Graham to the garden below. Graham must, of necessity, tell this portion of our narrative in his own words:
"I followed Kaosp, at his bidding, down the silent, deserted corridors, and at last felt the cool, refreshing night air beat against my face, as we passed under an arched gateway of the palace, into the open grounds. Here he left me, telling me to keep along a narrow pathway, until I came to an arbour where I was to wait until Volinè joined me. The night was gloriously fine; the Martial moons were beaming in a cloudless sky; the stars scintillated sharp as swords in the heavens; the far-away Earth shone with a dazzling fairness—the star of the evening. Flowers threw off delicious fragrance, though I could not see them; here and there a tall, tapering tree, towering far above the lower vegetation of this wondrous garden, shone out clearly against the green-hued sky; whilst distant fountains sang their soothing song. Oh, how can I express the expectant rapture that filled my soul, as I watched and waited for my darling! With leaden-flighted wings the moments dragged along; and yet she came not. Was all a dream? If so, oh God! then let me dream for ever! for the suspense of waiting for Volinè in that garden fair would be Paradise, compared with the pain of awaking and finding that all had vanished with my opening eyes.
"Soft, yet distant footsteps at last fell upon my eager ears, and she for whom I waited came stealthily along towards our trysting-place. We met as lovers of long standing, even though no single word of love had passed between us; the kiss I reverently pressed upon her white, upturned brow, was the first I had ever given her. But the language of love is universal—neither race nor dialect forms a barrier to the communication of its sweet secrets one to the other.
"'Volinè, beloved,' I whispered, trembling with joy. 'You, for whom I have waited so long, have come to me at last!'
"'Oh! man of Ramos, I am so happy to be with thee,' she answered, as I drew her gently within the shelter of the arbour, and sat down by her side.
"'Nay, Volinè, will you not call me "Harry"? I ask it as a royal favour.'
"'But "Harry" is not thy name. Still, to please thee, I will grant thy request. "Harry!"—"Harry!" is much prettier, too; I had not thought of that.'
"'But I had, Volinè, and have been longing to hear my name fall from your sweet lips.'