She rustled out, and the flag-lieutenant wondered why Eirene’s face should look so tragic after a mere visit of kindly courtesy. But Zoe came hurrying from her room, and the incident was forgotten. He had a good deal to tell her as the pinnace carried them down the coast and round the point and up again, for the Roumis had shown their resentment at Scythia’s defection from their cause by attacking the Scythian Consulate at Therma, the guards of which were not expecting an assault, and while the occupants were rescued by a sortie from the British Consulate, the place itself was looted and burnt. It was the general opinion, he told her, that this change of front on the part of Scythia portended the separation of Emathia from Roum, and its establishment as an autonomous state under Maurice, insomuch that various old and orthodox Mussulmans at Therma were already packing up their goods, preferring transplantation to living under the rule of the Giaour. This news troubled Zoe almost as much as the tidings of the prisoners’ safety had rejoiced her, for it recalled to her Wylie’s unbending attitude in the past, and she wondered, sick at heart, whether he would again think it right to withhold from her, for her own sake, all that she cared for. It was with fear and trembling that she climbed the steps to the verandah, in the wake of the sentry, who was beaming with sympathy for her good news. She did not quite see why he insisted on going up first, and proclaiming, “The lady, sir, with a hannouncement,” but when Wylie actually walked to meet her, leaning on a stick, she understood.
“Oh, have you walked from your chair to the steps quite by yourself?” she cried in delight.
“Absolutely. How’s that for improvement? And I don’t mean you to enjoy all the privileges of our engagement in future,” he said, stooping and kissing her. “Why, Zoe, what’s the matter?” as he looked into her face. Her tearful eyes, and the general air of agitation about her, prepared him for the tidings she must be bringing. “Is it news, dear?”
“Yes. I have something—to tell you,” she broke out, stopping short, and putting out her hands to keep him from her.
“My dear girl, I can guess. Do these naval fellows think I can’t stand a shock, that they send you to break it to me? Don’t trouble to say it.”
Zoe gave a little shivering laugh, which sounded oddly in his ears. “I must. I said I would,” she gasped, but she let herself be drawn into his arms, and clung to him convulsively. “You won’t turn away from me?” she besought him. “You won’t be different? Everything will be as it has been till now?”
“Turn away from you—because the brutes have given you such a thing to do, poor little girl?” His tone was answer enough. “Here, let me say it for you. They are going to hand me over to the Roumis, I suppose?”
“No. They are going to set you free,” came from Zoe in a kind of wail, and her fingers tightened their hold.
“But you must be dreaming, my darling. Or am I dreaming? It is all right—and you are sorry?”
“Oh no, no!” Zoe freed herself, and stamped her foot at him. “I was only afraid—you might want to give me up. But you shan’t!” as she saw the look she knew so well creeping over his face. “You promised that everything should be as it has been, and I won’t give you up—not if Maurice was made Emperor to-morrow! That was why I was glad when the Admiral let me bring you the news—that mere gratitude might keep you from throwing me over.”