An untidy medley of houses and factories stretched almost to the gates of the vast air terminus.  Listening intently, one could catch the faint roar of the city’s awakening traffic, punctuated here and there by the shrill whistling of tugs in the river, hidden from sight by a shroud of ghostly mist.  The dock on which Prince Shan stood was one apportioned to foreign royalty and visitors of note.  A hundred yards away, the Madrid boat was on the point of starting, her whistles already blowing, and her engines commencing to beat.  Presently the great machinery which assisted her flight from the ground commenced its sullen roar.  There was a chorus of farewell shouts and she glided up into the air, a long row of people waving farewells from the windows.  Prince Shan glanced at his watch,—­twenty minutes to six.  He paced the wooden boards and looked again,—­ten minutes to six.  Then he stopped suddenly.  Along that gleaming stretch of private road came a car, driven at a rapid pace.  Prince Shan stood and watched it, and as he watched, it seemed almost as though the hidden sun had caught his face and transfigured it.  He stood as might stand a man who feels his feet upon the clouds.  His lips trembled.  There was no one there to see—­his attendants stood respectfully in the background—­but in his eyes was a rare moisture, and for a single moment a little choking at his throat.  The car turned in under the arched roof.  Prince Shan’s servants, obeying his gesture, hurried forward and threw open the gates.  The heavily laden limousine came to a standstill.  Three people descended.  Nigel and Naida lingered, watching the luggage being unloaded.  Maggie came forward alone.

They met a few yards from the entrance to the platform.  Prince Shan was bare-headed, and Maggie, at least, saw those wonderful things in his face.  He bent down and took her hands in his.

“Dear and sweet soul,” he whispered, as his lips touched her fingers, “may my God and yours grant that you shall find happiness!”

Her own eyes were wet as she smiled up at him.

“I have been so long making up my mind,” she said, “and yet I knew all the time.  I am so glad—­so happy that I have come.  Think, too, how wonderful a start!  We leave the earth for the clouds.”

“It is a wonderful allegory,” he answered, smiling.  “We will take it into our hearts, dear one.  It rests within the power of every human being to search for happiness and, in searching, to find it.  I am fortunate because I can take you to beautiful places.  I can spell out for you the secrets of a new art and a new beauty.  We can walk in fairy gardens.  I can give you jewels such as Europe has never seen, but I can give you, Maggie, nothing so strange and wonderful, even to me who know myself, as the love which fills my heart.”

Her laugh was like music.

“I am going to be so happy,” she murmured.

The other two approached and they all shook hands.  They looked over the amazing little rooms, watched the luggage stowed away in some marvellous manner, saw the crew, every one at his station like a motionless figure.  Then a whistle was blown, and once more they all clasped hands.