“On—on the day of our union?” Naida echoed in dismay. “Can you tell where or how he will strike at us?”
Kirby shook his head.
“There are a hundred things he could do. Naida, I—I—Well, somehow I am afraid of the ceremony this afternoon—the wedding ceremony!”
He felt a little shiver go through her, and would have taken her in his arms, save that a gay cry rang in the garden then.
“Naida, Naida!” It was her cousin, Nini, a bronze-haired youngster as elfin and Pucklike as her name. “I thought we should never find you! Do you realize this is your wedding day, and that you’re acting as if there was nothing to be done?”
Nini darted a mocking glance at Kirby, who grinned.
“Do come, Naida!” cried another girl. “Your gown is ready, and we want you to ourselves for awhile.”
Other girls joined them, some singing and some carrying an obligato on the sweet, flutelike instruments which Kirby had first heard as he hung in the throat of the geyser. In front of them all, Kirby laughed and kissed Naida on the forehead. But as he took leave of her thus, he whispered: