But then, I am a beginner in desert islands." "Are you an American ?" inquired Antoinette earnestly.
Amory looked up at the frowning facade of the king's palace, and he could have found it in his heart to believe his own answer.
"I'm the ghost," he confessed, "of a poor beggar of a Phoenician who used to make water-jars in Sidon.

I have been condemned to plow the high seas and explore the tall mountains until I find the Pitiful Princess.

She must be up at the very peak, in distress, and I--" Amory stopped and looked desperately about him.

Would St.George never come?
How was he, Amory, to be accountable for what he told if he were left here alone in these extraordinary circumstances?
Then Antoinette lightly clapped her hands.
"A ghost!" she exclaimed with pleasure.

"Miss Holland hoped the place was haunted.