Nevertheless, it was not until the rose of sunset rested among the hills that at last they found themselves on the crest of the tall cliff which commanded so wide a stretch of the ocean and the shimmering valleys below.

“It reminds one of the Bay of Naples,” observed Blair, pausing to scan the rocky coastline against which, far beneath them, the foaming breakers threw themselves.  He shaded his eyes with his hand and looked far out to sea.  “What a wonderful place for a watch tower it would have made!”

“It had one once,” softly replied the girl, “Wildenai’s watch tower!”

Blair turned, their eyes met, and he smiled.

“It’s been splendid to have you with me all these days,” he said, “I’ve been wanting to tell you.  You’ve been more of a help than you’ll ever know.”  And then, after a pause, “It’s because you care so much about the story yourself, I suppose, that you’ve been such an inspiration to me.”

Something in the girl’s heart seemed suddenly to snap.

“It’s because I care more about your work, and — and you.  You are so wonderful!” she broke forth impulsively, and stood before him crimson with confusion.  For a second, which seemed to her an age, there was silence.  Then he spoke and, in her bitter humiliation, his voice sounded strained and cold.

“Shall we go in?” he asked.

Silently he parted the tangle of manzanita that for centuries had veiled the secrets of the princess, and stood aside for her to enter.  Wildly the little art teacher glanced about her.  This moment to which she had so looked forward, and yet had dreaded as much because it meant the end, - this moment which might, nevertheless, have meant much to them both even though it were the end, she herself had spoiled!  All its delicate beauty changed to a sordid suspicion, it lay in ruins now because of her thoughtless words.  She dared not guess at what he must be thinking!  For a desperate second she considered flight.  Then proudly she raised her head.  One more thing, at least, about her now he should learn!

“Did you know — ?” she began, then broke off irresolute.

Blair glanced at her and again their eyes met.  This time he did not smile.

“Know what?” he asked.

She laughed with embarrassment.

“It really isn’t of any interest to you, but — " and again she paused.

“Suppose you let me be the judge of that,” he suggested stiffly.  “You’re making me horribly curious, you know.  You can’t very well drop the subject now.”  He was evidently making an effort at pleasantry.

She flushed brightly.

“Of course it couldn’t be of the slightest importance to anyone except myself,” she explained.  Then, as if doubting her courage to continue long, she hurried on, “but one reason I take such an interest in — your work is because I’m a direct descendant of Lord Harold myself.  He became the Duke of Norfolk afterward, you know, but Hastings was always the family name.”  She flashed him a haughty glance, a pride that changed to wideeyed surprise as she noted his amazement.