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 tenderness of her love of him that was mirrored in her eyes.

To remain and take her as his mate after the manner and customs of her own people would reflect no shame upon himself or her; but was she not deserving of the highest honor that it lay within his power to offer at the altar of her love?

She—his wonderful Nadara—must become his through the most solemn and dignified ceremony that civilized man had devised. What the young woman of his past life demanded was none too good for her.

Again the girl voiced her question.

“You wish to go?”

“Yes, Nadara,” he replied, “I must go back to my own people—and you must go with me.”

Her face lighted with pleasure and happiness as she heard his last words; but the expression was quickly followed by one of doubt and fear.

“I am afraid,” she said; “but if you wish it I will go.”

“You need not fear, Nadara. None will harm you by word or deed while Thandar is with you. Come, let us return to the sea and the yacht before she sails.”

Hand in hand they retraced their steps down the steep cliff, across the little valley toward the forest and the sea.