Absorbed was he in his musings, that when the king presently handed him the

Paper which he had been writing, he received it and pocketed it without being

conscious of the act. 'How marvelous strange she acted,' he muttered. 'I think

she knew me — and I think she did not know me. These opinions do conflict, I

Perceive it plainly; I cannot reconcile them, neither can I, by argument,

Dismiss either of the two, or even persuade one to outweigh the other. The

matter standeth simply thus: she must have known my face, my figure, my

voice, for how could it be otherwise? Yet she said she knew me not, and that is

Proof perfect, for she cannot lie. But stop — I think I begin to see.

Peradventure he hath influenced her — commanded her — compelled her to

lie. That is the solution! The riddle is unriddled. She seemed dead with fear —

Yes, she was under his compulsion. I will seek her; I will find her; now that he

Is away, she will speak her true mind. She will remember the old times when

We were little playfellows together, and this will soften her heart, and she will

No more betray me, but will confess me. There is no treacherous blood in her

— no, she was always honest and true. She has loved me in those old days —

this is my security; for whom one has loved, one cannot betray.'

He stepped eagerly toward the door; at that moment it opened, and the Lady

Edith entered. She was very pale, but she walked with a firm step, and her