Page:The council of seven.djvu/143

 forces, he was ready, almost eager in his own despite to release her.

One thing was now clear. They must come to a decision. Again in the inward ear of Helen sounded that voice grim with menace: Under which king, Bezonian? To serve both was now impossible.

She didn't hesitate to tell this stricken, perhaps mortally stricken, gladiator, that she was wholly his. Yet no longer self-secure, a tide of doubt swept his mind.

"Take a little time," he said. "There is your own life to think of. It may be—I don't know—that I am no more than a half-crazy egoist; in any case, I have no right to involve you in what may prove the ruin of all our hopes. You have made a position for yourself. Something is due to your career. I have no right to drag you down, I have no right to sink your fine abilities in a cause which in my heart I feel to be already lost."

Not only the simplicity of the man, but his honesty in this hour of desolating weakness wrung her with pain. "I ask no more than to serve you in any way I can," she said, her face raised to his.

"I cannot take pity," he said. "Even though it is a gift which ennobles the giver. Too much is at stake for us—and for the world in which we live."

With more than a lover's tenderness which made her whole being quiver like the rays of light upon the path before them, he took her in his arms and pressed kisses upon her forehead and lips. In the next moment, even