Page:Frank Owen - The Wind That Tramps the World (1929).djvu/80

 the hall of green glimmering mist. Softly he called, "Liane, little Liane!" And then she came to him still in her clinging garments that were like rose-petals. Her glowing hair was more golden than ever, her lips sweeter and a richer red. He took her into his arms.

"Come with me," he whispered. "Together we will find all the happiness that life affords."

His sole fear had been that Liane had not been touched by the divine fire of love. But now this fear was banished for she lifted her lovely face to his and kissed his lips. It was like crushing his mouth to a dew-drenched flower. While Liane departed to fetch her cloak, Ras Orla could hardly wait so acute was his fear that even now their flight might be intercepted. But presently she returned. She wore a long green cape that was like the calyx of a flower. Then soundlessly they mounted the stairs to the single story which lay above the ground. Once in the distance a dog barked dismally. Ras Orla paused. His heart was beating madly. But the moment passed and no one in the house stirred. A few moments later they were in the garden and even there silence reigned. Not a cricket murmured, not a tree trembled.

Ras Orla carried Liane to a small island in the Pearl River which was owned by old Mee Num, a quaint writer of legends who had been his friend for years. The old man dwelt on the quiet little island so near to the great city yet not of it in order that his musings might not be disturbed. The ancient wife of Mee Num