"She would only seem more interesting."

"Ah! Then modern France is like old Egypt?" she queried, still
smiling. "And Frenchmen can be found perhaps who are like Araxes
in the number of their loves and infidelities?"

"I should say my country is populated entirely with copies of
him," replied Gervase, mirthfully. "Was he a very distinguished
personage?"

"He was. Old legends say he was the greatest warrior of his time;
as you, Monsieur Gervase, are the greatest artist."

Gervase bowed.

"You flatter me, fair Charmazel!" he said; then suddenly as the
strange name passed his lips he recoiled as if he had been stung,
and seemed for a moment dazed. The Princess turned her dark eyes
on him inquiringly.

"Something troubles you, Monsieur Gervase?" she asked.

His brows knitted in a perplexed frown.

"Nothing ... the heat ... the air ... a trifle, I assure you? Will
you not join the dancers? Denzil, the music calls you. When your
waltz with the Princess is ended I shall claim my turn. For the
moment ... au revoir!"

He stood aside and let the little group pass him by: the Princess