"You shall be my wife to-day," he cried.

"I beg your pardon," she said gaily, "but as the bride I am the arbiter
of time. If in a year from now we are still here, I will be your wife."

"A year! Great heaven! Impossible! I won't wait that long. Now be
sensible, Tennys."

"I am very sensible. While I am willing to recognize the sacredness of
the marriage laws here, I must say that I prefer those of my own land.
We must wait a year for deliverance. If it does not come, then I will--"

"But that's three hundred and sixty-five days--an age. Make it a month,
dear. A month is a long, long time, too."

"A year is a long time," she mused. "I will marry you on the
twenty-third of next May."

"Six months!" he exclaimed reprovingly.

"You must accept the decision. It is final."



CHAPTER XXXI

_THE WEDDING RING_

The six months passed and the strange wedding was near at hand. The