CHAPTER VIII. DICK VINCEY AND THE QUEEN.

Queen Olive stood in the doorway of the handsomely furnished stone building, called the palace, when Dick and the Yankee were brought up.

With a wave of her hand she ordered the Hezzians to retire, and then motioned the two to follow her inside.

Dick noticed that the beautiful queen eyed him with a more than ordinary look, and he was not a little puzzled over it.

But he was destined to know what it meant ere long. Martin Haypole had mentioned in a joke that the queen of Hez had fallen in love with the good-looking Dick Vincey, and this was indeed the case.

The graceful creature led them to the table on which rested the strip of parchment containing the signatures of those who had signed the agreement to stay in the land of Hez forever.

Dick glanced over these, and saw the names of Leo and the rest of his companions, and, consequently, he had little hesitation in taking the oath.

“Now, then,” observed Queen Olive, “you may retire to the company of your friends; I would speak a few words in private to this young man.”

The Yankee at once took his departure, and the fair ruler of Hez led Dick into a handsomely furnished apartment.

She motioned him to a seat on a divan of dyed skins, and then blew a tiny whistle attached to one of her bracelets.

Almost immediately a servant appeared and bowed to the floor.

The queen addressed her in Spanish for a moment, and she retired, only to return five minutes later with a stone tray containing a choice repast, the sight of which made Dick’s mouth water.

“You are hungry, I know--appease your appetite.”

He did not wait for a second invitation, but at once proceeded to eat, all the while wondering why it was that he was treated in such a royal manner.

When he had satisfied his appetite the queen again blew her whistle, and the servant returned, bringing in a decanter and a couple of drinking vessels.

She then took the tray and retired.

“Now, then,” said her majesty, as she poured some amber-colored liquid from the decanter, “to begin with, I want you to tell me your name.”

This Dick promptly did, and then, following the example of his fair hostess, placed the beverage she had poured from the decanter to his lips.

It had such a peculiar, exhilarating taste that he drained the cup at a single gulp.

Of all the wines he had ever drunk, that certainly was the best.

That it was intoxicating, he knew, for the moment he had swallowed it a sort of dreamy feeling of the deepest content came over him, and he settled back upon the divan and gazed into the face of the lovely creature before him with a listless smile upon his countenance.

“Do you think you will ever want to leave this land?” asked Queen Olive, as she took a seat before him.

“No,” returned Dick; “never--as long as you remain here.”

Instead of becoming offended at this speech, a look of pleasure came over her face.

“Why? Am I more beautiful than the ladies of your own country?” she asked.

“Yes--a thousand times yes!”

“Do you like me?”

This question staggered the boy, and he involuntarily half arose to his feet.

Did he like her! What a question for such a beautiful creature to ask him! And she a queen, too!

“Why, what do you mean?” he stammered, in reply.

“I mean just this: I have selected you as the man to be my future husband. It was decreed long ago that no queen who ruled the land of Hez should ever marry, unless her husband be a man who was not a native of the place. Thus far such has happened regularly, there always being a stranger to arrive here at about the right time. But this time more than one came, and out of the number I have chosen you.”

“But,” interposed Dick, who had settled back upon the divan again, and returned to his half-listless condition, “why should you choose me--a complete stranger, and entirely unknown to you?”

“Because I love you!”

“Well, you see, oh, queen, while you have long considered the question of marriage, I have never given the subject a thought until now. You must give me time to study over the question.”

“You may have as much time as you desire,” she said; “that is, if you answer one question to my satisfaction.”

“What is that question, oh, queen?”

“Don’t address me by that title--call me Olive,” she exclaimed, rising and laying her hand upon his shoulder. “The question I would ask is, Do you love me?”

For the space of a minute a deep silence reigned, and then Dick Vincey spoke:

“I do, Olive.”

He stretched forth his arms as if to fold her to his bosom, but she waved him back with a pleased laugh.

“I am glad,” was all she said. And then she motioned him to retire to the companionship of his friends.

Much mystified, Dick obeyed.

He was half angry at being turned aside just as he had made his declaration of love; but then he did not know that the queen was but putting him to the test to see if he was sincere.

“What’s the matter, old fellow?” asked Leo, as Dick approached the house that had been given to the swamp explorers. “You look as though you were worried over something.”

“Oh, I am all right,” was the reply; and then he took the weapons belonging to him, strapping the belt about his waist and thrusting the pair of revolvers and hunting knife into it.

“How did you make out with ther gal--queen?” said Haypole, who stood in the doorway perfectly contented, now that he had had a good meal, and was in the company of Prof. Easy and the rest.

“That reminds me,” exclaimed Dick, suddenly. “I left something in the palace; I’ll go and get it, I guess.”

Then, before he could be questioned any further, he started back to the house of Queen Olive.

Arriving there, he did not hesitate, but boldly walked in.

The handsome queen was waiting for him, it seemed, for she met him in the hallway, and conducted him again to the room he had before been led into.

“I knew you would come back,” said she, quietly.

“Why?” he asked, in a petulant manner.

“Because you really love me.”

“I told you I did before you dismissed me a few moments ago.”

“Ah! but this proves it. And now, let me say, I shall consider myself engaged to you. But our marriage cannot take place under two years from the time of our first meeting--that is one of the laws of this country.”

“Laws be blowed!” exclaimed Dick. “If I was willing to marry you now I might change my mind before that time.”

“But you will not, though. Two years hence we will be man and wife, and you will be the happiest man in the Land of Hez, and I will be the happiest woman!”

Then there was a pause, after which Olive, as she desired Dick to call her, poured out some more of the wine and handed it to her lover.

As soon as the boy had drunk it, the same feeling of content, as on former occasions, came over him, and he grew talkative.

“Tell me about this wonderful country, Olive,” said he, taking her by the hand.

“That I will gladly do, Dick,” replied she, with equal familiarity, and she proceeded to relate the same legend as told by Andrew Jones a short time before.

“Do you believe that story, Olive?” he asked.

“I hardly know whether I do or not. It seems so strange and unnatural. Yet Roderique de Amilo was as he is now as long ago as the oldest of our people can remember.”

“How is it that he does not rule the Land of Hez himself?”

“Because, the legend states, that he agreed with his beautiful wife that it should forever be ruled by woman. It was for that reason that she plunged into the pool, thinking it would prove a perpetual life to her.”

“Has anybody else ever bathed in the pool?”

“Oh, yes; a dozen or more. But not until a few years ago; none of our people would ever believe the story before.”

“Then some do believe it now?”

“Yes, a few, and there must be something wonderful about the crystal waters of the fountain, for those who have bathed in it have never visibly grown older.”

“I think I shall have to take a bath in it some day myself,” said Dick, with a smile.

“And I, too,” replied Olive, thinking he meant it. “It would be so nice, when we are married, to go on living and never grow old, with no fear of dying, unless through some accident. Could anyone ask for anything more than that?”

Dick was about to make a reply, when the report of a rifle rang out close by.

Hastily excusing himself, he dashed from the room outside.

He beheld the man known as Reginald Lacy fleeing across the level country beneath the opening in the roof, and after him, in hot pursuit, was Philander Owens, a still smoking rifle in his hands.