“The Black Fiend that appeared to us that night upon the cliff?”

“Yes.”

“And he did not seek to injure you?”

“No; why should he?”

Percy shrugged his shoulders; he had a shrewd suspicion of the cause of this immunity, but he did not reveal that suspicion to her.

“True; it must be a fiend indeed that would seek to injure you,” he said.

She turned suddenly upon him.

“You like me?” she exclaimed, vivaciously.

“Very much!”

She gave him her hand with frank impulsiveness, crying: