still have unfinished that small discussion of ours concerning the
length of my poor life. Have you decided to cut it off from risk
of further mischief, or do you propose to give me further span?"

She turned to me with a look of sharp distress. "My lord,"
she said, "I would have you forget that silly talk of mine. This
last two hours I thought you were dead in real truth."

"And you were not relieved?"

"I felt that the only man was gone out of the world--I mean,
my lord, the only man who can save Atlantis."

"Your words give me a confidence. Then you would have me go
back and become husband to Phorenice?"

"If there is no other way."

"I warn you I shall do that, if she still so desires it, and
if it seems to me that that course will be best. This is no hour
for private likings or dislikings."

"I know it," she said, "I feel it. I have no heart now, save
only for Atlantis. I have schooled myself once more to that."

"And at present I am in this lone little box of a temple. A
minute ago, before you came, I had promised myself a pretty enough
fight to signalise my changing of abode."

"There must be nothing of that. I will not have these poor