“It is true,” answered the arrow-maker, calmly.
“Why did you do it?” she asked.
“The yellow metal is very beautiful,” said he, looking upon the golden bower with loving eyes; “and it is soft, and easy to work into many pretty forms. Years ago, when I began to gather the metal for my arrows and spears, I found in our mountains much of the forbidden gold, and it cried out to me to take it and love it, and I could not resist. So I brought it here, where no white man could ever see it and where not even your father was likely to come and charge me with my crime. My princess, you and your friends are the first to know my secret, and it is safe in your care because you are yourself breaking the law and defying the king.”
“In what way?” asked Ilalah.
“In seeking the pebbles that are denied our people, and in befriending the whites who have been condemned by us for centuries.”
She was silent for a moment. Then she said, bravely:
“Tcharn, such laws are unjust. I will break them because they are my father’s laws and not my own. When I come to rule my people I will make other laws that are more reasonable—and then I will forgive you for your gold-work.”
“Oh, Ilalah!” exclaimed Moit; “how can you rule these Indians when you have promised to come with me, and be my queen?”
She drew her hand across her eyes as if bewildered, and then smiled sweetly into her lover’s face.
“How easy it is to forget,” she said, “when one has always been accustomed to a certain life. I will go with you, and I will never rule my people.”