“Thank God!” he exclaimed.
She got off her pony and sat on a bank.
“I am very tired,” she said, and, swaying suddenly towards him, fainted in his arms.
Brand was a man of resource, and in a few minutes she reopened her eyes. He poured some brandy between her lips, and she sat up.
“I am very sorry,” she said. “I rode last night from Theos to Althea, and I have had no rest.”
He made her drink some milk. They sat hand in hand, a wonderful dawn breaking in the east. By and by a horseman from Theos passed them at full gallop.
“The war is over,” he cried. “The English fleet is at Constantinople! The Turks have sued for peace. Long live the King.”
He vanished in a cloud of dust, riding furiously for the Pass. Brand took Marie into his arms and kissed her.
“Dear,” he said, “I haven’t much money, and I’m only an ordinary man.”
She laughed softly.