Gervase was silent a moment. Then he said:

"Have you told Denzil?"

"Not yet."

"Better do so then," and Gervase glanced up at the sky, now
glowing red with a fiery sunset. "He wants to propose, you know."

"Good God!" cried the Doctor, sharply, "If he proposes to that
woman. ..."

"Why should he not?" demanded Gervase. "Is she not as ripe for
love and fit for marriage as any other of her sex?"

"Her sex!" echoed the Doctor grimly. "Her sex!--There!--for
heaven's sake don't talk to me!--leave me alone! The Princess
Ziska is like no woman living; she has none of the sentiments of a
woman,--and the notion of Denzil's being such a fool as to think
of proposing to her--Oh, leave me alone, I tell you! Let me worry
this out!"

And clapping his hat well down over his eyes, he began to walk
away in a strange condition of excitement, which he evidently had
some difficulty in suppressing. Suddenly, however, he turned, came
back and tapped Gervase smartly on the chest.

"YOU are the man for the Princess," he said impressively. "There
is a madness in you which you call love for her; you are her