“Yes, yes,” answered the voice, a feigned voice as I thought. “The Child of Kings whom you knew is dead, and having no more need for this ancient symbol of her power, she bequeathed it to you whom she remembered kindly at the last.”
Oliver covered his face with his hands and turned away.
“But,” went on the speaker slowly, “the woman Maqueda whom once it is said you loved——”
He dropped his hands and stared.
“——the woman Maqueda whom once it is said you—loved—still lives.”
Then the hood slipped back, and in the glow of the rising sun we saw the face beneath.
It was that of Maqueda herself!
A silence followed that in its way was almost awful.
“My Lord Oliver,” asked Maqueda presently, “do you accept my offering of Queen Sheba’s ring?”
NOTE BY MAQUEDA