the sea, a man was singing; and the words he sang floated distinctly
along on the landward wind.

"Let me be thine, O love,
But for an hour! I yield my heart and soul
Into thy power,--Let me be thine, O Love of mine,
But for an hour!"

The King listened, and a faint shadow darkened the proud light on his
face.

"'But for an hour!'" he said half aloud--"Yes,--it would be enough!
No woman's love lasts longer!"




CHAPTER III

A NATION OR A CHURCH?


An approaching step echoing on the marble terrace warned him that he
was no longer alone. He reseated himself at his writing-table, and
feigned to be deeply engrossed in perusing various documents, but a
ready smile greeted the intruder as soon as he perceived who it was,--
one Sir Roger de Launay, his favourite equerry and intimate personal
friend.

"Time's up, is it, Roger?" he queried lightly,--then as the equerry