all the moving she intended to do, and Max must now act for himself. He
did. He ran down the long room to her, crying:--

"Yolanda! Yolanda!"

She rose to greet him, and he, taking her in his arms, covered her face
with kisses. The unconscious violence of his great strength bruised and
hurt her, but she gloried in the pain, and was passive as a babe in his
arms. When they were seated and half calm, she clutched one of his great
fingers and said:--

"You kept your word, Little Max. You came back to me."

"Did you not know that I would come?" he asked.

"Ah, indeed, I knew--you are not one that makes a promise to break it.
Sometimes it is difficult to induce such a man to give his word, and I
found it so, but once given it is worth having--worth having,
Little Max."

She smiled up into his face while she spoke, as if to say, "You gave me
a deal of trouble, but at last I have captured you."

"Did you so greatly desire the promise, Yolanda?" asked Max, solely for
the pleasure of hearing her answer.

"Yes," she answered softly, hanging her head, "more than any _man_, can
know. It must be an intense longing that will drive a modest girl to
boldness, such as I have shown ever since the day I first met you at
dear old Basel. It almost broke my heart when father--fatherland--when