man after no common fashion before she consented to share such a bed as
awaits me on yonder pyramid. And yet I may scarcely think that you whom
kings have sued for can place your heart so low. How am I to read the
writing of your words, princess of the Otomie?'

'Read it with your heart,' she whispered low, and I felt her hand
tremble in my own.

I looked at her beauty, it was great; I thought of her devotion, a
devotion that did not shrink from the most horrible of deaths, and a
wind of feeling which was akin to love swept through my soul. But even
as I looked and thought, I remembered the English garden and the English
maid from whom I had parted beneath the beech at Ditchingham, and the
words that we had spoken then. Doubtless she still lived and was true to
me; while I lived should I not keep true at heart to her? If I must wed
these Indian girls, I must wed them, but if once I told Otomie that I
loved her, then I broke my troth, and with nothing less would she be
satisfied. As yet, though I was deeply moved and the temptation was
great, I had not come to this.

'Be seated, Otomie,' I said, 'and listen to me. You see this golden
token,' and I drew Lily's posy ring from my hand, 'and you see the
writing within it.'

She bent her head but did not speak, and I saw that there was fear in
her eyes.

'I will read you the words, Otomie,' and I translated into the Aztec
tongue the quaint couplet: