They reached the temple and he dashed inside, going direct to his room, where the sword and daggers hung. She sank weakly upon one of the big blocks in the long corridor, leaning her head against the partition, breathing heavily, hopelessly. He, unconscious of the pain she was suffering, began to whistle joyously as he bustled about. "Tennys," he called, "do you know what has become of my shield?" "It is out here," she answered shrilly, her voice pitched high with the tension imposed. He came forth, tossing his sword on the ground at her feet, hastily taking the shield from a peg in the wall. "Say, we won't see a live Ooloozer for a hundred years after the fight," he exploded exuberantly. "Is my army out there in front?" "Hugh," she said piteously, following him about in the hall, "it isn't necessary for you to accompany them." "Oh, great Scott! I wouldn't miss it for a million. I'm the biggest pig in the puddle," stopping to look at her in amazement. "But it isn't your--our war, Hugh. Why do you risk so much? They may kill you and then--then what will become of me?" In an instant his hilarity subsided and deep solicitude came in its stead, every particle of tenderness in his heart asserting itself in response to the rueful appeal. There was a queer rushing of blood to his head, a dizziness, a great thrumming against, the drums of his ears, from all of which sprung, like lightning, the remembrance of his suspicions concerning her feelings toward him. "You are not worried, are you? Why, there's no danger, not the slightest. We've got them whipped before the fight. I didn't think you'd lose courage. You've been so brave and confident all the time." He took her hands in his own and looked tenderly down into the wavering eyes of blue. "It is dreadful, Hugh. I never knew how dreadful until now. I cannot bear to see you go out there to-night, perhaps never to come back. I shall die if you go!" "But I must go, Tennys," he said firmly. "I'd rather die than be a coward. Your fears are utterly ridiculous." His rather petulant speech caused her to withdraw her hands, her wide eyes sending a glance of wounded pride up into his. That look of reproach haunted him the whole night long. Even in the next moment he sought to withdraw the unintentional sting from his words by the gentle reminder that he would come back to her a victor and that she would be proud of him. Still the hurt eyes looked into his. "I--I did not mean to interfere, Hugh. You must pay no attention to me. I was selfish and absurdly afraid," she said, a trace of coldness in her voice, her manner entirely altered. "Any woman might well be afraid at such a time," he said quickly. "I am not afraid for myself. It is not the kind of cowardice you think it is." "You just now wondered what would become of you if I were killed," he ventured.