“You are a strong man,” she answered, “and strong men are scarce. Promise me that you will not leave Theos without letting me know.”
“I am not likely to do that,” he said. “If ever I can help you or your country I would do it willingly. But you will remember that I am the friend of Ughtred of Tyrnaus.”
“You may have other friends—is it not so?”
The significance of her speech once more filled him with new emotions—half-delightful—half-uneasy. A sudden passionate impulse came to him to seize the little white hand all ablaze with jewels which hung over the arm of her chair so near to his. He mastered it with a stupendous effort. They sat there in a silence which was to him almost ecstatic. Then Nicholas of Reist stood suddenly before them, his black eyebrows contracted into a lowering frown.
“Marie,” he said, “the King is asking for you.”
She shrugged her shoulders, and rose without haste.
“I think,” she said, “that I have done my duty—and I am tired. I should like to go home, Nicholas.”
“You must make your adieux, in any case,” he answered, giving her his arm, and ignoring Brand. “No one is leaving yet, and there is to be a display of fireworks in the grounds.”
She looked over her shoulder to Brand with a parting smile.