"Aye," Croft found his tongue. "Since it accords me the privilege of a further word with you."
She drew her hand away. "Is a word with me of so great a value?" she questioned with a somewhat unsteady laugh.
"To speak with Naia of Aphur I would dare death itself." Croft did not tell her how much he had already dared for that word indeed.
"You are a bold man," she said, as he paused, and went on quickly. "Yet, since you value it so highly, forget not our invitation of this morning or that house in the mountains which is ours."
"I shall not forget, Princess Naia," Croft replied. His brain was in a whirl. She had repeated the invitation. Did she really wish him to come? Had he read her glorious eyes aright? Had she sensed the truth as he had sensed it the first time he had seen her? Did she feel it? Did she know? Had the call of his spirit reached the spirit which was hers? Croft hardly believed that it had.
He scarcely believed that her knowledge of that call was a definite thing as yet. Still—he was sure she felt something she herself could not wholly fathom—that her invitation was sincere, dictated by the call she as yet did not understand. Therefore he promised himself as well as her, to accept. And he vowed that before that visit to her mountain home was ended, she should recognize the truth.
CHAPTER XV
THE MAN'S DEMAND
Toward that end and what it should finally bring about, Croft now made his plans. Kyphallos he learned would leave on the morrow for Scira, and as he knew would very shortly thereafter make that promised journey to Niera, where he would once more come under the attraction of the Zollarian Magnet—that tawny Kalamita who had attended the feast on Anthra before he started south.