When Cara, waiting at the bridge, had seen the car flash up, a bearded

Bedouin at the wheel, she had leaped lightly to the seat beside him,

without waiting for the machine to come to a full stop; then she had

thrown herself back luxuriously on the cushions with a sigh of

satisfaction, and had only said: "Drive me fast."

For a long time she lay back, drinking, in long draughts, the spiced

night air, frosted only enough to give it flavor. There was no necessity

for speech, and above, the stars glittered lavishly, despite the white

light of the moon.

At last she murmured half-aloud and almost contentedly: "'Who knows but

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the world may end to-night?'"

Above the throbbing purr of the engine which had already done ten miles,

the man beside her caught the voice, but missed the words. He bent

forward.

"I beg your pardon?" he politely inquired.

At the question she started violently, and both hands came to her heart

with a spasmodic movement. Von Ritz carried the car around an ugly rut.

"Don't be alarmed, Your Highness," he said, in a cold, evenly modulated

voice which, though pitched low, carried clearly above the noise of the

cylinders. "I may call you 'Your Highness' now, may I not? We are quite

alone. Or do you still prefer that I respect your incognita?"

The girl's eyes blazed upon him until he could feel their intense

focusing, though he kept his own fixed unbendingly on the road ahead.

Finally she mastered her anger enough to speak.

"Colonel Von Ritz," she commanded, "you will take me back at once!" She

drew herself as far away from him as the space on the seat permitted.

"Your Highness's commands are supreme." The man spoke in the same even

voice. "I intend taking Your Highness back--when it is safer for Your

Highness to go back."

He turned the car suddenly to the right and sped along the narrower road

that led away from the main thoroughfare.

"You will take me back, now. I had not supposed that to a gentleman--"

Her voice choked into silence and her eyes filled with angry tears.

"Your Highness misunderstands," he said coldly. "I obey the throne. If I

live long enough to serve it in another reign, Your Highness will be

Your Majesty. Yet even then will your commands be no more supreme to

me--no more sacred--than now. But even then, Your Highness--"

"Call me Miss Carstow," she interrupted in impassioned anger. "I will

have my freedom for to-night at least."

"Yet even then, Miss Carstow," he calmly resumed, "when danger threatens

you or your throne, I shall take such means as I can to avert that

danger, as I am doing now. Even though"--for a moment the cold, metallic

evenness left his voice and a human note stole into his words--"even

though the reward be contempt."




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