She looked at him now, her breast throbbing, almost a sob in her quivering voice, defying him to deny the truth of her words.

“You have struck home,” he said, and his voice sounded strange to himself.  “And I am not sorry.  I am glad that you have seen—­and understand.  It seems almost indecent for me to tell you this, when I have known you for such a short time.  But I have known you for years—­in my hopes and dreams.  For you I would go to the end of the world.  And I can do what other men have done, centuries ago.  They called them knights.  You may call me a man!”

At his words she rose from where she had been sitting.  She faced the radiant walls of the forests that rolled billow upon billow in the distance, and the sun lighted up her crown of hair in a glory.  One hand still clung to her breast.  She was breathing even more quickly, and the flush had deepened in her cheek until it was like the tender stain of the crushed bakneesh.  Philip rose and stood beside her.  His shoulders were back.  He looked where she looked, and as he gazed upon the red and gold billows of forest that melted away against the distant sky he felt a new and glorious fire throbbing in his veins.  From the forests their eyes turned—­ and met.  He held out his hand.  And slowly her own hand fluttered at her breast, and was given to him.

“I am quite sure that I understand you now,” he said, and his voice was the low, steady, fighting voice of the man new-born.  “I will be your knight, as you have read of the knights of old.  I will urge no reward that is not freely given.  Now—­will you let me help you?”

For a moment she allowed him to hold her hand.  Then she gently withdrew it and stepped back from him.

“You must first understand before you offer yourself,” she said.  “I cannot tell you what my trouble is.  You will never know.  And when it is over, when you have helped me across the abyss, then will come the greatest trial of all for you.  I believe—­when I tell you that last thing which you must do—­that you will regard me as a monster, and draw back.  But it is necessary.  If you fight for me, it must be in the dark.  You will not know why you are doing the things I ask you to do.  You may guess, but you would not guess the truth if you lived a thousand years.  Your one reward will be the knowledge that you have fought for a woman, and that you have saved her.  Now, do you still want to help me?’

“I can’t understand,” he gasped.  “But—­yes—­I would still accept the inevitable.  I have promised you that I will do as you have dreamed that knights of old have done.  To leave you now would be” —­he turned his head with a gesture of hopelessness—­“an empty world forever.  I have told you now.  But you could not understand and believe unless I did.  I love you.”

He spoke as quietly and with as little passion in his voice as if he were speaking the words from a book.  But their very quietness made them convincing.  She started, and the colour left her face.  Then it returned, flooding her cheeks with a feverish glow.