"And now," he went on, "we are together once more. My heart beats
wildly, Gorgo; it is well that this breastplate holds it fast, for I feel
as though it would burst with hope and thankfulness."

"Thankfulness?" said Gorgo, looking down.

"Yes, thankfulness--sheer, fervent passionate gratitude! What you have
given me, what an inestimable boon, you yourself hardly know; but no
emperor could reward love and fidelity more lavishly than you have done--
you, the care and the consolation, the pain and the joy of my life! My
mother told me--it was the first thing she thought of--how you shed tears
of grief on her bosom when the false report of my death reached home.
Those tears fell as morning dew on the drooping hopes in my heart, they
were a welcome such as few travellers find on their return home. I am no
orator, and if I were, how could speech in any way express my feelings?
But you know them--you understand what it is, after so many years . . ."

"I know," she said looking up into his eyes, and allowing him to seize
her hand as he dropped on the bench by her side. "If I did not I could
not bear this--and I freely confess that I shed many more tears over you
than you could imagine. You love me, Constantine . . ."

He threw his arm round her; but she disengaged herself, exclaiming:

"Nay--I implore you, not so--not yet, till I have told you what troubles
me, what keeps me from throwing myself wholly, freely into the arms of
happiness. I know what you will ask--what you have a right to ask; but
before you speak, Constantine, remember once more all that has so often
saddened our life, even as children, that has torn us asunder like a