“So I knelt and kissed the hand of the King, my father, and left him, wondering at his nobleness who could show such a road to his only child, though its treading would mean woe to him and mayhap the ruin of his hopes.  Still that road is an old one among the women of my people, and why should I not walk it, as thousands have done before me?”

“How came you here?” I asked hoarsely.

“Lord, I guessed that you would be walking in this garden which joins on to that of the palace, and—­none were about, and—­the door in the wall was open.  Indeed, it was almost as though I were left alone and unwatched of set purpose.  So I came and sought—­and found, having a question to put to you.”

“What question, Quilla?”

“This:  Shall I live or shall I die?  Speak the word and I obey.  Yet ere you speak, remember that if I live we meet for the last time, since very soon I go hence to become the wife of Urco and play the part that is prepared for me?”

Now when I, Hubert, heard these words, I felt as though my heart would burst within my breast and knew not what to say.  So to gain time I asked her: 

“Which do you desire—­to live or to die?”

She laughed a little as she answered: 

“That is a strange question, Lord.  Have I not told you that if I live I must do so befouled as one of Urco’s women, whereas, if I die, I die clean and take my love with me to where Urco cannot come, but where, mayhap, another may follow at the appointed time.”

“Which time would be very soon, I think, Quilla, seeing that he who had spoiled all this pretty plot would scarcely be left long upon the earth, even if he wished to stay there.  Yet I say:  Do not die—­live on.”

“To become Urco’s woman!  That is strange counsel from a lover’s lips, Lord; such as would scarcely have been given by any of our nobles.”

“Aye, Quilla, and it is given because I am not of your people and do not think as they think, who reject their customs.  You are not yet Urco’s wife, and may be rid of him by other paths than that of death, but from the grave there is no escape.”

“And in the grave there is no more fear, Lord.  Thither Urco cannot come; there are neither wars nor plottings; there honour does not beckon and love hold back.  I say that I will die and make an end, as for like causes many of my blood have done, though not here and now.  When I am about to be delivered to Urco then I will die, and perchance not alone.  Perchance he will accompany me,” she added slowly.

“And if this happens, what shall I do?”

“Live on, Lord, and find other women to love you, as a god should.  There are many in this land fairer and wiser than I, and, save myself, you may take whom you will.”

“Listen, Quilla.  I have a story to tell you.”

Then, as briefly as I could, I set out the tale of Blanche and of her end, while she hung upon my every word.