"I should have heard you if you had only whispered, my rain princess. I have no right to talk of love--I am a vagabond; but I have a heart, and it is a bold one. Perhaps I dream that I am here beside you--so near that I can touch your face--but it is the sweetest of dreams. But for it I should have left Edelweiss weeks ago. I shall never awaken from this dream; you cannot rob me of the joys of dreaming."

Under the spell of his passion she drew nearer to him as he clung strongly to the rail. The roses at her throat came so close that he could bury his face in them. Her hand touched his cheek, and he kissed its palm again and again, his wet lips stinging her blood to the tips of her toes.

"Go away, please," she implored faintly. "Don't you see that you must not stay here--now?"

"A rose, my princess,--one rose to kiss all through the long night," he whispered. She could feel his eyes burning into her heart. With trembling, hurried fingers she tore loose a rose. He could not seize it with his hands because of the position he held, and she laughed tantalizingly. Then she kissed it first and pressed it against his mouth. His lips and teeth closed over the stem and the rose was his.

"There are thorns," she whispered, ever so softly.

"They are the riches of the poor," he murmured with difficulty, but she understood.

"Now, go," she said, drawing resolutely away. An instant later his head disappeared below the rail. Peering over the side she saw his figure spring easily to the ground, and then came the rapid, steady tramp as he went away on his dreary patrol.

"I couldn't help it," she was whispering to herself between joy and shame.

Glancing instinctively out toward the solitary lamp she saw two men standing in its light. One of them was General Marlanx; the other she knew to be the spy that watched Baldos. Her heart sank like lead when she saw that the two were peering intently toward the balcony where she stood, and where Baldos had clung but a moment before.

CHAPTER XXII

A PROPOSAL

She shrank back with a great dread in her heart. Marlanx, of all men! Why was he in the park at this hour of the night? There could be but one answer, and the very thought of it almost suffocated her. He was drawing the net with his own hands, he was spying with his own eyes. For a full minute it seemed to her that her heart would stop beating. How long had he been standing there? What had he seen or heard? Involuntarily she peered over the rail for a glimpse of Baldos. He had gone out into the darkness, missing the men at the lamp-post either by choice or through pure good fortune. A throb of thankfulness assailed her heart. She was not thinking of her position, but of his.