CHAPTER XVI.

LEONARD AND ULAMA.

"How I should like to see this wondrous outside world that you come from!" said Ulama dreamily. "The more you tell me of it, the more you whet my curiosity, and the more I long to see its marvels for myself."

"And yet," was Elwood's answer, "nowhere will you find so marvellously beautiful a scene as that which now surrounds us. I have travelled a good deal myself; and my friend Jack much more; and Monella, where has he not been? He seems to have visited every corner of the world! Yet he said to me, but yesterday, that he thought this the fairest spot on earth; and in this Jack agrees, so far as his experience extends.

"Since I first came here I have looked upon it from many points of view; from the water, as the boat drifts from one side to the other; from different places round the shore; from various spots on the rocky terraces above; and these different views I have seen under all the shifting effects of sunlight, moonlight, and in the mountain mist. Yet do I find myself unable to decide which I like the best. Whatever I do, wherever I happen to be, I see constantly some fresh enchantment, some new charm, some effect at once unexpected and delightful; till I strive in vain to make up my mind which I admire the most."

It was about a week after the arrival in the city of the three travellers; and Ulama and Leonard were seated in a favourite boat in which the princess was wont to spend a large portion of her time. It was, really, a small barge, of curious but graceful design and elaborate decoration. Over the after part was a white and light-blue awning; the bow ran up in the shape of a bird with out-stretched wings wrought in gold and silver, and the stern was fashioned like a fish with scales of blue and gold, its tail being movable, and running down below the water-line to form the rudder. Upon the sides provision was made for several oars; but this morning Ulama and Elwood had put off alone, content that the boat should drift wherever the slight air or current might direct.

Truly Leonard had not over-rated the beauty of the scene around them; scarce indeed would it be possible to do so. The water was a dazzling blue, yet so clear and limpid that it seemed more like a film of tinted air than water, so that the eye could pierce to great depths where many strange creatures could be seen. The sun, high in the sky, poured down its rays upon the buildings and the trees, in some parts lighting up only the tops and throwing purple shadows over the rest; in other places, touches of vivid green contrasted with the pink-white tints of the faces of the buildings; the whole quivering in the shimmering haze that conveys an idea of unsubstantiality in what one sees--a suggestion that it may be only a mirage that a passing breeze may dissipate.

Ulama was leaning in contented listlessness over the boat's side, her hand playing idly in the water. On the shapely arm, bare to the elbow, was a plain gold band in which was set a single diamond that even crowned heads might have envied. It flashed and sparkled in the sunlight with dazzling fire and power. A gold fillet, set with another matchless diamond, confined her hair, which fell loosely in wavy tresses round her shoulders. Her dress was of finest work, its texture thin as gossamer; pure white with here and there a silken knot of blue. It was gathered into her waist by a golden zone whose clasp was hidden by another and even larger diamond. No other style of dress could have so well set off the perfect symmetry and beauty of her figure. Thus, bending in unconscious ease over the boat's side, the young girl formed one of the rarest models of maidenly grace and loveliness that could that morning have been found amongst Eve's daughters.

Yet, probably, to most observers, the purity and sweetness that looked out from her soft, wistful eyes would have seemed the chief and most attractive charm of this radiant maiden of the 'city of the clouds.' And her gentle, lustrous eyes were the index of the pure and loving soul within.

No wonder, therefore, that she was, beyond compare, the best loved, the most honoured person in the land.

She was her father's chief, almost his only, joy. Apart from her he found but little that gave him happiness. At the same time he loved his people and honestly desired to do his best for them; and gladly would he have made great sacrifices to bring about their emancipation from the priestly tyranny that oppressed them. But he shrank from the extreme step of precipitating a civil war; yet the alternative of allowing things to take their course and continue in the old groove grieved him deeply; so much so that his distress had begun to take the form of settled melancholy. His courtiers, who were devoted to him, noticing this, themselves became a prey to anxious misgivings, fearing in it the first symptoms of the sole incurable disease they knew--that which they termed the 'falloa.'

Leonard's last words had started a fresh train of thought in the young girl's mind, and presently she spoke again.

"Do you then mean that you would fain pass your life with us; you to whom the great world beyond is known, with all its endless interest? It seems strange that! Methinks that, were I in your place, I should deem life here but colourless and childish. For me, certainly, it has sufficed. I have a father who loves me dearly--dotes on me; my mother I never knew. She died when I was very young. I have kind friends around me whom I love, and who love me, and who seem to think far more of me than I deserve. And, were it not for the sadness in the land, I think I should be very happy; certainly I should be contented. Yet, now that you have told me of a spacious world beyond, full of all sorts of mysteries and unheard-of marvels, I confess I should like to see something of it."

"To do so would bring you no lasting pleasure," Leonard answered. "If we--if I--who have looked upon these things, have been brought up amongst them, if I am weary of them, and never care to see them more, and would spend the remainder of my life here, for you they would have no attractions."

Ulama glanced up shyly at him from under her long lashes.

"But are you--would you?" she asked with a slight blush. "Would you truly like to stay here all your life--never to go back to your own land?"

"Yes! I _do_ mean that!" And there was a fervid glow in Leonard's countenance. "All my life I have had a restlessness impelling me to seek--I knew not what--in distant lands. All my life I have had strange dreams and visions; not only in the stillness of the night, but also amidst the busy hum of day, and in all these one form was ever present; it hovered round me so that I could almost see and touch it. But--and now comes the strange part of it--that first day I set eyes on you, the moment you drew near, I saw in you the living image of her who had been the central figure of my waking visions, and held sweet converse with me while I slept. Then--when my eyes met yours--I understood it all! I knew then what had led me hither; what it was I had unconsciously been seeking, and wherefore I had been restless and unsatisfied at home. I knew that in you I had discovered all I craved for--the sweet fulfilment of my soul's desire. And then--then--I saw you in the grasp of one who would have slain you! And my heart stood still, for I knew that, unless my hand were steady and my eye unerring, in striving to save your life I might destroy it. Oh, think, think what must have been my anguish! Think, how----Ah! never will you know a tenth of what I suffered in that brief space; or my relief and thankfulness when I saw him fall, and you stand scatheless!"

The young girl looked shyly at him; then, noting the love-light in his eyes, and the glowing flush upon his cheeks, the while he had poured out all that he had felt for her, an answering blush stole over her own fair cheek; while a coy, dainty little smile seemed to flit airily around her mouth, setting into little dimples first here then there; in like manner as a ray of light, reflected from a mirror, will dance coquettishly to and fro in obedience to the hand that moves the glass.

There was silence for a space, she gazing downwards at the water, but now and then stealing a shy glance at her companion.

Then another line of thought passed over her mind and shadowed her face for a moment.

"I wonder," she said with touching innocence, "what people see in me to like so much? I fear it is not always well that this should be. It was that which led--Zelus"--she shivered at the name--"to thrust himself upon, and at last threaten me, and has placed you in danger for having slain him. It is very strange! To like, to love, should mean naught but happiness and loving-kindness and innocent delight; yet here it has led a man to attempt an awful crime, and has placed others in great peril."

"It was not _love_ on that man's part," said Leonard, savagely, between his teeth. "At least, not the sort of love that urged _me_ on, that has guided me--even as the unwinding of a clue leads the traveller through the maze--to the side of her I loved and worshipped in my visions. Mine is not the love that could ever do its object hurt; that could ever----"

He paused abruptly, seeing her glance up at him with a look of wonder on her face.

"You love me?" she exclaimed. "But that is past believing! 'Tis but a few days since you first saw me. You cannot know what I am really like! How then can you _love_ me? I love my father because he has cared for me and loved me all my life; I love Zonella--and--and--other friends, because I have known them for so long, and they have been kind and good to me. How can you yet tell that you will love me? Perchance when you know me better you may even come to hate me."

"Oh! Ulama! What is that you say?" he said impetuously. "You cannot mean it! You are playing with me! But it is cruel play! The love I mean is not such as the slow growth of a child's affection for a parent or a girl-friend. It is a swift, resistless passion, that centres on one being above all others in the world, and says, 'This one only do I love; this one possesses all my heart and soul! From this one I can never swerve--my love will end only when my heart no longer beats; I cannot live without it.' Such a love bursts forth spontaneously from the heart, as does a tiny spring from the earth's bosom and that, when once it has found vent, for ever bubbles up fresh and clear and pure, and, commencing in a little rill, increases to a torrent whose force no power can stem. _That_ is the love I mean; and 'tis such a love I bear for you, Ulama. Can you not understand something of all this?"

"I know not," replied the maiden in a low voice, and glancing timidly at him. "You frighten me a little--or you would, but that I like you too well to feel afraid of you--but--I have no knowledge of such love as you describe."

"But, you have _heard_ of a love that far exceeds mere friendship--far stronger than affection?"

"Y-es. I have _heard_ of it; and--ridiculed it as fiction. Yet--if you affirm its truth, and in your own person have experienced it--I must fain believe you, for I know you would not say what is not true. But"--here she sagely shook her head--"though my ears receive your words, the time has not yet come when they have reached my heart."

Leonard seized her hand.

"But, meanwhile, I have not offended you, Ulama?" he asked entreatingly. "You will let me love you? Indeed, I am powerless to help it. And you will try to--to--like me--ah, you have said you _do_ like me already. Will you not try to love me a little?"

"Nay," she frankly answered, "you would not surely have me _try_? What sort of love would that be that we had to _try_ to bring into being--to force upon an unresponsive heart? You have said that it should burst forth spontaneously. I scarcely understand when you speak thus."

Leonard sighed.

"You are right, Ulama, as you ever are; and I am wrong; but my love makes me impatient. I will not expect too much of you. I will wait with such content as is in me to command until your gentle heart shall beat in unison with mine; and something in me tells me that one day it will."

Just then they heard the voice of some one calling to them, and, looking round, they saw Jack Templemore and Zonella, with several others, coming towards them in another boat.

When they were within speaking distance, Jack said that Monella had sent him to tell Leonard he wished to speak to him; Leonard accordingly took up the oars and rowed the barge slowly to shore. There he left Ulama with the party, and proceeded in search of Monella who, he had been told, was awaiting him upon a terrace that overlooked the lake.

Here Leonard found him seated with a field-glass in his hand. Monella turned and looked searchingly at the young man, who felt himself colouring under the other's glance.

"I love not to seem to spy upon your acts, my son," Monella began gravely, "but when I caught sight of you in yonder boat holding the hand of the princess, the daughter of the king, who is our kind and gracious host, I could not well do otherwise than seek a talk with you. I fear you have not well considered what you do."

At this rebuke Leonard coloured up still more, albeit the words were spoken with evident kindness. For that very reason, probably, they sank the deeper. It was the first time anything savouring of reproof to him had fallen from Monella's lips; and, up to that moment, its possibility had seemed remote; and now the young man deeply felt the fact that the other should have thought it necessary.

"I think I know what you would say," he answered in a low voice. "I feel I have been wrong--guilty of thoughtlessness, presumption, and seemingly of breach of confidence. I understand what is in your mind. Yet let me say at once that so far little--practically nothing--has been said, and nothing more shall be--unless--you can tell me I dare hope. But oh, my good friend, you who have treated me always as a son, and shown such sympathy and kindness towards me--who have known of my half-formed aspirations, and the ideas that led me on and ended in my coming here, and encouraged me in those ideas--who have learned that in the king's daughter I have found the living embodiment of the central figure of all my dreamings--_you_ surely will not now turn upon me and tell me I must stifle all my feelings, and--give--up--the hopes--that had arisen--in my heart?" And Leonard sank wearily into a seat.

Then, for the first time realising his actual position, how next to impossible it was that the king would regard with favour his pretensions, he placed his hands before his face and groaned aloud.

Monella rose, and, going to him, laid his hand kindly upon his shoulder.

"I might bring all the arguments and platitudes of the 'worldly-wise' to bear on you," he said, "but I forbear; and I know they will not weigh with you. Moreover, it is undeniable that the circumstances are unusual and unlooked-for. But they do not justify you in forgetting what you owe to a kingly host and--I may add--to others; to us, your friends, for instance. You know, also, that our position here is critical; there is trouble brewing in the land. If the king should have reason to believe that one of us has abused his confidence in one matter, he may lose his trust in all, as touching other, and far more weighty matters--matters that may affect even his own personal security; to say nothing of our own lives, and those of many of his subjects. Therefore----"

Leonard sprang up and looked at him imploringly.

"For pity's sake say no more," he said, "or I shall begin to hate myself. I understand--only too well. Trust me--if you will; if you feel you can; if you have not lost confidence. You shall not have further reason for complaint."

Monella took Leonard's hand in his and pressed it affectionately.

"'Tis well, my son," he said. "I have full confidence, and will trust you. And you, on your side, must trust me. I may have opportunity to sound the king, and, if it so happen, you may count on me to say and do all that my friendship for you may dictate--and that will not be a little."

Leonard wrung the other's hand and tried to thank him, but a burst of emotion overcame him, and he turned away. When he again looked round he was alone.