She threw off a light laugh, and rose and walked to the book-case beside the chimney. Here she took down an old, tattered, red-covered volume and rapidly turned the pages till she found her place. Then she came back to her seat beside me, and, pointing to the lines, read aloud:
"'I!' exclaimed the Prince. 'Blanchette, my love! I be so barbarous as to kill you! Ah! you would doubtless try my heart; but rest assured it is incapable of forgetting the love and gratitude it owes to you.'
"'No, son of a king,' continued she, 'I do not suspect thee of ingratitude. I know thy worth. It is neither thou nor I who in this affair can control our destiny. Do as I bid thee. We shall both of us begin to be happy, and, on the faith of a cat of reputation and honor, thou wilt acknowledge that I am truly thy friend.'"
"But it ended happily, like all fairy tales. So will yours, I'm sure," I remarked.
She let the book drop wearily. "It must end some way—why not that?"
I clasped her hand. "You must not think of it, Miss Fielding! It appals me."
"Well, I won't speak of it again. But I should be glad to have a friend who would help me, if worst came to worst."
"You forget that, in spite of what I know, I am still on the island, after all; I can't yet judge of such a necessity."
"Well, Leah and I will fight it out."
"You said, once, that I could trust Leah in everything. Do you still mean that?"