How she must love him, he thought, when she could so stoop from her high estate. He dropped on his knees before her. "Ah," he murmured, "where could I find fitting expressions in which to tell you what I feel? Your words have lifted me to complete Nirvana, I shall never dwell on earth again. Speech is but a poor thing often, therefore I will not say much. Deeds are best; it is by them, O Princess, that you shall read my heart."

She smiled, and her eyes were softly tender as they met his.

Told on the Pagoda — Part 13

"There is but one thing," she said, after a few moments; "my father must not be told till after we are married; he would not sanction our union, though he will forgive us afterwards. Therefore you must take me hence, away from out the kingdom for some time; then, when my father's just anger shall have faded, as it surely will, we will return together."

Told on the Pagoda — Part 13

The young man listened in rapt attention, scarcely crediting even yet his own great fortune.

Told on the Pagoda — Part 13

"And yet I scarcely see," gravely pursued the Princess, after a short silence, "how it can be managed."

She rose as she spoke and advanced to where a box of ivory, inlaid with opals, stood, touched a spring and opened it.

"See," she cried, "this is all the money I own," taking in her hands a few small worthless pieces of silver; "I have never required money till now, all that I have ever wanted has been always beside me."

"Do not fear if it is only money that you need," answered the young man; "for of that I have more than enough."

"Ah! is that so?" she exclaimed eagerly, turning to him a face of glad surprise.

"At home," he continued, "I have much of jewels and gold which I got but a little while back; sufficient to keep us in that luxury which is due to your rank, for many a year to come."

"Go and fetch it," urged the Princess, "and return here at nightfall, and I will go with thee to another life--a life of happiness such as this world seldom holds."

He read in her words, her looks, and her gestures only the fond impatience of a love long, secret, and denied.

He prostrated himself, and saying, "I will return at nightfall," left her to hurry on his errand.

In the early evening, when the darkness had only just fallen, he drove in a carriage to the palace; he left it at a little distance from the great gold entrance, and taking on his person much of his stolen treasure, he was ushered into the Princess's room; the swinging lamps were lit and shed a faint radiance on all around.