CASTLE CRANEYCROW

BY

George Barr McCutcheon

NEW YORK

1902

CASTLE CRANEYCROW

THE TAKING OF TURK

It was characteristic of Mr. Philip Quentin that he first lecturedhis servant on the superiority of mind over matter and then took himcheerfully by the throat and threw him into a far corner of theroom. As the servant was not more than half the size of the master, his opposition was merely vocal, but it was neverthelessunmistakable. His early career had increased his vocabulary and hislanguage was more picturesque than pretty. Yet of his loyalty andfaithfulness, there could be no doubt. During the seven years of hisservice, he had been obliged to forget that he possessed such a nameas Turkington or even James. He had been Turk from the beginning, and Turk he remained--and, in spite of occasional out breaks, he hadproved his devotion to the young gentleman whose goods and chattelshe guarded with more assiduity than he did his own soul or--whatmeant more to him--his personal comfort. His employment came about inan unusual way. Mr. Quentin had an apartment in a smart buildinguptown. One night he was awakened by a noise in his room. In thedarkness he saw a man fumbling among his things, and in an instanthe had seized his revolver from the stand at his bedside and coveredthe intruder. Then he calmly demanded: "Now, what are you doinghere?"

"I'm lookin' for a boardin' house, " replied the other, sullenly. 

"You're just a plain thief--that's all. "

"Well, it won't do me no good to say I'm a sleepwalker, will it?--era missionary, er a dream? But, on d' dead, sport, I'm hungry, an' Iwuz tryin' to git enough to buy a meal an' a bed. On d' dead, Iwuz. "

"And a suit of clothes, and an overcoat, and a house and lot, Isuppose, and please don't call me 'sport' again. Sit down--not ohthe floor; on that chair over there. I'm going to search you. Maybeyou've got something I need. " Mr. Quentin turned on the light andproceeded to disarm the man, piling his miserable effects on achair. "Take off that mask. Lord! put it on again; you look muchbetter. So, you're hungry, are you?"

"As a bear. "

Quentin never tried to explain his subsequent actions; perhaps hehad had a stupid evening. He merely yawned and addressed the burglarwith all possible respect. "Do you imagine I'll permit any guest ofmine to go away hungry? If you'll wait till I dress, we'll strollover to a restaurant in the next street and get some supper. 

"Police station, you mean. "

"Now, don't be unkind, Mr. Burglar. I mean supper for two. I'mhungry myself, but not a bit sleepy. Will you wait?"

"Oh, I'm in no particular hurry. "

Quentin dressed calmly. The burglar began whistling softly. 

"Are you ready?" asked Philip, putting on his overcoat and hat. 

"I haven't got me overcoat on yet, " replied the burglar, suggestively. Quentin saw he was dressed in the chilliest of rags. He opened a closet door and threw him a long coat. 

"Ah, here is your coat. I must have taken it from the club bymistake. Pardon me. "

"T'anks; I never expected to git it back, " coolly replied theburglar, donning the best coat that had ever touched his person. "You didn't see anything of my gloves and hat in there, did you?" Ahat and a pair of gloves were produced, not perfect in fit, butquite respectable. 

Soberly they walked out into the street and off through thetwo-o'clock stillness. The mystified burglar was losing hisequanimity. He could not understand the captor's motive, nor couldhe much longer curb his curiosity. In his mind he was fullysatisfied that he was walking straight to the portals of the neareststation. In all his career as a housebreaker, he had never beforebeen caught, and now to be captured in such a way and treated insuch a way was far past comprehension. Ten minutes before he waslooking at a stalwart figure with a leveled revolver, confidentlyexpecting to drop with the bullet in his body from an agitatedweapon. Indeed, he encountered conditions so strange that he felt adoubt of their reality. He had, for some peculiar and amazingreason, no desire to escape. There was something in the oddness ofthe proceeding that made him wish to see it to an end. Besides, hewas quite sure the strapping young fellow would shoot if heattempted to bolt. 

"This is a fairly good eating house, " observed the would-be victimas they came to an "all-nighter. " They entered and deliberatelyremoved their coats, the thief watching his host with shifty, eventwinkling eyes. "What shall it be, Mr. Robber? You are hungry, andyou may order the entire bill, from soup to the date line, if youlike. Pitch in. "

"Say, boss, what's your game?" demanded the crook, suddenly. Hissharp, pinched face, with its week's growth of beard, wore a newexpression--that of admiration. "I ain't such a rube that I don'tlike a good t'ing even w'en it ain't comin' my way. You'se a dandy, dat's right, an' I t'ink we'd do well in de business togedder. Putme nex' to yer game, "

"Game? The bill of fare tells you all about that. Here's quail, squab, duck--see? That's the only game I'm interested in. Go on, andorder. "

"S' 'elp me Gawd if you ain't a peach. "

For half an hour Mr. Burglar ate ravenously, Quentin watching himthrough half-closed, amused eyes. He had had a dull, monotonousweek, and this was the novelty that lifted life out of the torpidityinto which it had fallen. 

The host at this queer feast was at that time little more thantwenty-five years of age, a year out of Yale, and just back from asecond tour of South America. He was an orphan, coming into a bigfortune with his majority, and he had satiated an old desire totravel in lands not visited by all the world. Now he was back in NewYork to look after the investments his guardian had made, and hefound them so ridiculously satisfactory that they cast a shadow ofdullness across his mind, always hungry for activity. 

"Have you a place to sleep?" he asked, at length. 

"I live in Jersey City, but I suppose I can find a cheap lodgin'house down by d' river. Trouble is, I ain't got d' price. "

"Then come back home with me. You may sleep in Jackson's room. Jackson was my man till yesterday, when I dismissed him for stealingmy cigars and drinking my drinks. I won't have anybody about me whosteals. Come along. "

Then they walked swiftly back to Quentin's flat. The owner of theapartment directed his puzzled guest to a small room off his own, and told him to go to bed. 

"By the way, what's your name?" he asked, before he closed the door. 

"Turkington--James Turkington, sir, " answered the now respectfulrobber. And he wanted to say more, but the other interrupted. 

"Well, Turk, when you get up in the morning, polish those shoes ofmine over there. We'll talk it over after I've had my breakfast. Good-night. "

And that is how Turk, most faithful and loyal of servants, began hisapparently endless employment with Mr. Philip Quentin, dabbler instocks, bonds and hearts. Whatever his ugly past may have been, whatever his future may have promised, he was honest to a painfuldegree in these days with Quentin. Quick-witted, fiery, willful andas ugly as a little demon, Turk knew no law, no integrity exceptthat which benefitted his employer. Beyond a doubt, if Quentin hadinstructed him to butcher a score of men, Turk would have proceededto do so and without argument. But Quentin instructed him to behonest, law-abiding and cautious. It would be perfectly safe toguess his age between forty and sixty, but it would not be wise tomeasure his strength by the size of his body. The little ex-burglarwas like a piece of steel. 

II

SOME RAIN AND ITS CONSEQUENCES

New York had never been so nasty and cold and disagreeable. Forthree weeks it had rained--a steady, chilling drizzle. Quentin stoodit as long as he could, but the weather is a large factor in thelife of a gentleman of leisure. He couldn't play Squash the entiretime, and Bridge he always maintained was more of a profession thana pastime. So it was that one morning, as he looked out at thesheets of water blowing across the city, his mind was made up. 

"We'll get out of this, Turk. I've had enough of it. "

"Where do we go, sir?" calmly asked the servant. 

"Heaven knows! But be ready to start tomorrow. We'll go somewhereand dodge this blessed downpour. Call me a cab. "

As he drove to the club, he mentally tossed coppers as to hisdestination. People were already coming back from Aiken and PalmBeach, and those who had gone to the countrywere cooped up indoors and shivering about the fireplaces. Wherecould he go? As he entered the club a man hailed him from the frontroom. 

"Quentin, you're just the man I'm looking for. Come in here. "

It was the Earl of Saxondale--familiarly "Lord Bob"--an old chum ofQuentin's. "My missus sent me with an invitation for you, and I'vecome for your acceptance, " said the Englishman, when Quentin hadjoined him. 

"Come home with us. We're sailing on the Lucania to-morrow, andthere are going to be some doings in England this month which youmustn't miss. Dickey Savage is coming, and we want you. "

Quentin looked at him and laughed. Saxondale was perfectly serious. "We're going to have some people up for Goodwood, and later we shallhave a house-boat for Henley. So you'd better come. It won't be badsport. "

Quentin started to thank his friend and decline. Then he rememberedthat he wanted to get away--there was absolutely nothing to keep himat home, and, besides, he liked Lord Bob and his American wife. 

Fashionable New York recalls the marriage of the Earl of Saxondaleand Frances Thornow when the '90's were young, and everybody said itwas a love match. To be sure, she was wealthy, but so was he. Shehad declined offers of a half-dozen other noblemen; therefore it wasnot ambition on her part. He could have married any number ofwealthier American girls; therefore it was not avarice on his part. He was a good-looking, stalwart chap with a very fetching drawl, infinite gentility, and a man despite his monocle, while she wasbeautiful, witty and womanly; therefore it is reasonable to suspectthat it must have been love that made her Lady Saxondale. 

Lord Bob and Lady Frances were frequent visitors to New York. Heliked New York, and New Yorkers liked him. His wife was enough of atrue American to love the home of her forefathers. "What my wifelikes I seem to have a fondness for, " said he, complacently. He onceremarked that were she to fall in love with another man he wouldfeel in duty bound to like him. 

Saxondale had money invested in American copper mines, and his wifehad railroad stocks. When they came to New York, once or twice ayear, they took a furnished apartment, entertained and wereentertained for a month or so, rushed their luggage back to the steamer and sailed for home, perfectly satisfied with themselves and--the markets. 

Quentin looked upon Lord Bob's invitation as a sporting proposition. This would not be the first time he had taken a steamer ontwenty-four hours' notice. The one question was accommodation, and along acquaintance with the agent helped him to get passage whereothers would have failed. 

So it happened that the next morning Turk was unpacking things inMr. Quentin's cabin and establishing relations with the bathsteward. 

III

PRINCE UGO

Several days out from New York found the weather fine and LordSaxondale's party enjoying life thoroughly. Dickey and thecapricious Lady Jane were bright or squally with charminguncertainty. Lady Jane, Lord Bob's sister, certainly was not in lovewith Mr. Savage, and he was too indolent to give his side of thecase continuous thought. Dimly he realized, and once lugubriouslyadmitted, that he was not quite heartwhole, but he had not reached apositive understanding with himself. 

"How do they steer the ship at night when it is so cloudy they can'tsee the north star?" she asked, as they leaned over the rail oneafternoon. Her pretty face was very serious, and there was aphilosophical pucker on her brow. 

"With a rudder, " he answered, laconically. 

"How very odd!" she said, with a malicious gleam in her eyes. "Youare as wonderfully well-informed concerning the sea as you areon all other subjects. How good it must seem to be so awfullyintelligent. "

"It isn't often that I find anyone who asks really intelligentquestions, you know, Lady Jane. Your profound quest for knowledgeforced my dormant intellect into action, and I remembered that aship invariably has a rudder or something like that. "

"I see it requires the weightiest of questions to arouse yourintellect. " The wind was blowing the stray hairs ruthlessly acrossher face and she looked very, very pretty. 

"Intellects are so very common nowadays that 'most anything willarouse them. Quentin says his man Turk has a brain, and if Turk hasa brain I don't see how the rest of us can escape. I'd like to be aporpoise. "

"What an ambition! Why not a whale or a, shark?"

"If I were a shark you'd be afraid of me, and if I were a whale Icould not begin to get into your heart. "

"That's the best thing you've said since you were seasick, " shesaid, sweetly. 

"I'm glad you didn't hear what I said when I was seasick. "

"Oh! I've heard brother Bob say things, " loftily. 

"But nobody can say things quite so impressively as an American. "

"Pooh! You boasting Americans think you can do everything betterthan others. Now you claim that you can swear better. I won't listento you, " and off she went toward the companionway. Dickey lookedmildly surprised, but did not follow. Instead, he joined LadySaxondale and Quentin in a stroll. 

Four days later they were comfortably established with Saxondale inLondon. That night Quentin met, for the first time, the reigningsociety sensation, Prince Ugo Ravorelli, and his countrymen, CountSallaconi and the Duke of Laselli. All London had gone mad over theprince. 

There was something oddly familiar in the face and voice of theItalian. Quentin sat with him for an hour, listening with puzzledears to the conversation that went on between him and Saxondale. Onseveral occasions he detected a curious, searching look in theItalian's dark eyes, and was convinced that the prince also had theimpression that they had met before. At last Quentin, unable to curbhis curiosity, expressed his doubt. Ravorelli's gaze was penetratingas he replied, but it was perfectly frank. 

"I have the feeling that your face is not strange to me, yet Icannot recall when or where I have seen you. Have you been in Parisof late?" he asked, his English almost perfect. It seemed to Quentinthat there was a look of relief in his dark eyes, and there was atrace of satisfaction in the long breath that followed the question. 

"No, " he replied; "I seem in some way to associate you with Braziland the South American cities. Were you ever in Rio Janeiro?"

"I have never visited either of the Americas. We are doubtlessmisled by a strange resemblance to persons we know quite well, butwho do not come to mind. "

"But isn't it rather odd that we should have the same feeling? Andyou have not been in New York?" persisted Phil. 

"I have not been in America at all, you must remember, " replied theprince, coldly. 

"I'd stake my soul on it, " thought Quentin to himself, more fullyconvinced than ever. "I've seen him before and more than once, too. He remembers me, even though I can't place him. It's devilishaggravating, but his face is as familiar as if I saw him yesterday. "

When they parted for the night Ravorelli's glance again impressedthe American with a certainty that he, at least, was not in doubt asto where and when they had met. 

"You are trying to recall where we have seen one another, " said theprince, smiling easily, his white teeth showing clearly betweensmooth lips. "My cousin visited America some years ago, and there isa strong family resemblance. Possibly you have our faces confused. "

"That may be the solution, " admitted Phil, but he was by no meanssatisfied by the hypothesis. 

In the cab, later on, Lord Bob was startled from a bit of doze byhearing his thoughtful, abstracted companion exclaim:

"By thunder!"

"What's up? Forgot your hat, or left something at the club?" hedemanded, sleepily. 

"No; I remember something, that's all. Bob, I know where I've seenthat Italian prince. He was in Rio Janeiro with a big Italian operacompany just before I left there for New York. "

"What! But he said he'd never been in America, " exclaimed Saxondale, wide awake. 

"Well, he lied, that's all. I am positive he's the man, and the bestproof in the world is the certainty that he remembers me. Of coursehe denies it, but you know what he said when I first asked him if wehad met. He was the tenor in Pagani's opera company, and he sang inseveral of the big South American cities. They were in Rio Janeirofor weeks, and we lived in the same hotel. There's no mistake aboutit, old man. This howling swell of to-day was Pagani's tenor, and hewas a good one, too. Gad, what a Romeo he was! Imagine him in thepart, Bob. Lord, how the women raved about him!"

"I say, Phil, don't be ass enough to tell anybody else about this, even if you're cocksure he's the man. He was doubtless driven to thestage for financial reasons, you know, and it wouldn't be quiteright to bring it up now if he has a desire to suppress the truth. Since he has come into the title and estates it might be deucedawkward to have that sort of a past raked up. "

"I should say it would be awkward if that part of his past wereraked up. He wasn't a Puritan, Bob. "

"They are a bit scarce at best. "

"He was known in those days as Giovanni Pavesi, and he wasn't insuch dire financial straits, either. It was his money that backedthe enterprise, and it was common property, undenied by him oranyone else, that the chief object in the speculation was the loveof the prima donna, Carmenita Malban. And, Bob, she was the mostbeautiful woman I ever saw. The story was that she was a countess orsomething of the sort. Poverty forced her to make use of a gloriousvoice, and the devil sent Pagani to young Pavesi, who was then astudent with some ripping big master, in the hope that he wouldinterest the young man in a scheme to tour South America. It seemsthat Signorita Malban's beauty set his heart on fire, and hepromptly produced the coin to back the enterprise, the onlycondition being that he was to sing the tenor roles. All this cameout in the trial, you know. " "The trial! What trial?"

"Giovanni's. Let me think a minute. She was killed on the 29th ofMarch, and he was not arrested until they had virtually convictedone of the chorus men of the murder. Pagani and Pavesi quarrelled, and the former openly accused his 'angel' of the crime. This led toan arrest just as the tenor was getting away on a ship bound forSpain. "

"Arrested him for the murder of the woman? On my life, Quentin, youmake a serious blunder unless you can prove all this. When did itall happen?"

"Two years ago. Oh, I'm not mistaken about it; it is as clear assunlight to me now. They took him back and tried him. Members of thetroupe swore he had threatened on numerous occasions to kill her ifshe continued to repulse him. On the night of the murder--it wasafter the opera--he was heard to threaten her. She defied him, andone of the women in the company testified that he sought tointimidate Malban by placing the point of his stiletto against herwhite neck. But, in spite of all this, he was acquitted. I was inNew York when the trial ended, but I read of the verdict in thepress dispatches. Some one killed her, that is certain, and thenasty job was done in her room at the hotel. I heard some of theevidence, and I'll say that I believed he was the guilty man, but Iconsidered him insane when he committed the crime. He loved her tothe point of madness, and she would not yield to his passion. It wasshown that she loved the chorus singer who was first charged withher murder. "

"Ravorelli doesn't look like a murderer, " said Lord Bob, stoutly. 

"But he remembers seeing me in that courtroom, Bob. "

IV

AND THE GIRL, TOO

"Now tell me all about our Italian friend, " said Quentin nextmorning to Lady Frances, who had not lost her frank Americanism whenshe married Lord Bob, The handsome face of the young prince had beenin his thoughts the night before until sleep came, and then therewere dreams in which the same face appeared vaguely sinister andforeboding. He had acted on the advice of Lord Bob and had saidnothing of the Brazilian experiences. 

"Prince Ugo? I supposed that every newspaper in New York had beendevoting columns to him. He is to marry an American heiress, andsome of the London journals say she is so rich that everybody elselooks poor beside her. "

"Lucky dog, eh? Everybody admires him, too, it seems. Do you knowhim, Frances?"

"I've met him a number of times on the continent, but not often inLondon. He is seldom here, you know. Really, he is quite a charmingfellow. "

"Yes, " laconically. "Are Italian princes as cheap as they used tobe? Mary Carrolton got that nasty little one of hers for two hundredthousand, didn't she? This one looks as though he might come alittle higher. He's good-looking enough. "

"Oh, Ugo is not like the Carrolton investment. You see, this one isvastly rich, and he's no end of a swell in sunny Italy. Really, thematch is the best an American girl has made over here in--oh, incenturies, I may say. "

"Pocahontas made a fairly decent one, I believe, and so did FrancesThornow; but, to my limited knowledge, I think they are the onlysatisfactory matches that have been pulled off in the last fewcenturies. Strange, they both married Englishmen. "

"Thank you. You don't like Italian princes, then?"

"Oh, if I could buy a steady, well-broken, tractable one, I'd takehim as an investment, perhaps, but I believe, on the whole, I'drather put the money into a general menagerie like Barnum's orForepaugh's. You get such a variety of beasts that way, you know. "

"Come, now, Phil, your sarcasm is unjust. Prince Ugo is very much ofa gentleman, and Bob says he is very clever, too. Did you see muchof him last night?"

"I saw him at the club and talked a bit with him. Then I saw himwhile I slept. He is much better in the club than he is in a dream. "

"You dreamed of him last night? He certainly made an impression, then, " she said. 

"I dreamed I saw him abusing a harmless, overworked and underfedlittle monkey on the streets of New York. "

"How absurd!"

"The monkey wouldn't climb up to the window of my apartment tocollect nickels for the vilest hand-organ music a man ever heard, even in a nightmare. "

"Phil Quentin, you are manufacturing that dream as you sit here. Wait till you know him better and you will like him. "

"His friends, too? One of those chaps looks as if he might throw abomb with beautiful accuracy--the Laselli duke, I think. Come, now, Frances, you'll admit he's an ugly brute, won't you?"

"Yes, you are quite right, and I can't say that the count impressesme more favorably. "

"I'll stake my head the duke's ancestors were brigands or somethingequally appalling. A couple of poor, foolish American girls elevatethem both to the position of money-spenders-in-chief though, Ipresume, and the newspapers will sizzle. "

At dinner that evening the discussion was resumed, all those at thetable taking part. The tall young American was plainly prejudicedagainst the Italian, but his stand was a mystery to all save LordBob. Dickey Savage was laboriously non-committal until Lady Janetook sides unequivocally with Quentin. Then he vigorously defendedthe unlucky prince. Lady Saxondale and Sir James Graham, one of theguests, took pains to place the Italian in the best light possiblebefore the critical American. 

"I almost forgot to tell you, Phil, " suddenly cried Lady Saxondale, her pretty face beaming with excitement. "The girl he is to marry isan old flame of yours. "

"Quite impossible, Lady Frances. I never had a flame. "

"But she was, I'm sure. "

"Are you a theosophist?" asked Phil, gaily, but he listenednevertheless. Who could she be? It seemed for the moment, as hismind swept backward, that he had possessed a hundred sweethearts. "I've had no sweetheart since I began existence in the presentform. "

"Good Lord!" ejaculated Dickey, solemnly and impressively. 

"I'll bet my soul Frances is right, " drawled Lord Bob. "She alwaysis, you know. My boy, if she says you had a sweetheart, you eitherhad one or somebody owes you one. You've never collected, perhaps. "

"If he collected them he'd have a harem, " observed Mr. Savage, sagely. "He's had so many he can't count 'em. "

"I should think it disgusting to count them, Mr. Savage, even if hecould, " said Lady Jane, severely. 

"I can count mine backwards, " he said. 

"Beginning at one?"

"Yes, Lady Jane; one in my teens, none at present. No task, at all, to count mine. "

"Won't you give me the name of that old sweetheart of mine, LadySaxondale? Whom is the prince to marry?" asked Quentin. 

"Dorothy Garrison. She lived in your block seven or eight years ago, up to the time she went to Brussels with her mother. Now, do youremember?"

"You don't mean it! Little Dorothy? By George, she was a prettygirl, too. Of course, I remember her. But that was ages ago. She wasfourteen and I was nineteen. You are right, Lady Saxondale. I'llconfess to having regarded her as the fairest creature the sun evershone upon. For six solid, delicious months she was the foundationof every thought that touched my brain. And then--well, whathappened then? Oh, yes; we quarrelled and forgot each other. Soshe's the girl who's to marry the prince, is she?" Quentin's facewas serious for the moment; a far-off look of real concern came intohis eyes. He was recalling a sweet, dainty face, a girlish figure, and the days gone by. 

"How odd I did not think of it before. Really, you two were dreadfulspoons in those days. Mamma used to worry for fear you'd carry outyour threat to run away with her. And now she's to be a real liveprincess. " Lady Frances created a profound sensation when sheresurrected Quentin's boyhood love affair with the one American girlthat all Europe talked about at that moment. Lord Bob was excited, perhaps for the first time since he proposed to Frances Thornow. 

"By Jove, old man, this is rare, devilish rare. No wonder you havesuch a deuced antipathy to the prince. Intuition must have told youthat he was to marry one of the ladies of your past. "

"Why, Bob, we were children, and there was nothing to it. Truly, Ihad forgotten that pretty child--that's all she was--and I'll warrantshe wouldn't remember my name if some one spoke it in her presence. Every boy and girl has had that sort of an affair. "

"She's the most beautiful creature I ever saw, " cried Lady Jane, ecstatically. Dickey Savage looked sharply at her vivacious face. "When did you last see her, Mr. Quentin?"

"I can't recall, but I know it was when her hair hung down her back. She left New York before she was fifteen, I'm quite sure. I think Iwas in love with a young widow fourteen years my senior, at thetime, and did not pay much heed to Dorothy's departure. She and hermother have been traveling since then?"

"They traveled for three years before Mrs. Garrison could make upher mind to settle down in Brussels. I believe she said it remindedher of Paris, only it was a little more so, " said Lord Bob. "We metthem in Paris five years ago, on our wedding trip, and she wasundecided until I told her she might take a house near the king'spalace in Brussels, such as it is, and off she flew to be as closeto the crown as possible. She struck me as a gory old party whocouldn't live comfortably unless she were dabbling in blue blood. The girl was charming, though. "

"She's in London now, " ventured Sir James. "The papers say she cameespecially to see the boat races, but there is a pretty wellestablished belief that she came because the prince is here. Despitetheir millions, I understand it is a love match. "

"I hope I may have a look at her while I'm here, just to see whattime has done for her, " said Quentin. 

"You may have the chance to ask if she remembers you, " said Dickey. 

"And if she thinks you've grown older, " added Lord Bob. 

"Will you tell her you are not married?" demanded Lady Jane. 

"I'll do but one thing, judging from the way you describe thegoddess. Just stand with open mouth and marvel at her magnificence. Somewhere among my traps I have a picture of her when she wasfourteen, taken with me one afternoon at a tin-typer's. If I canfind it, I'll show it to her, just to prove that we both lived tenyears ago. She's doubtless lived so much since I saw her last thatshe'll deny an existence so far back as that. "

"You won't be so deuced sarcastic when you see her, even if she isto marry a prince. I tell you, Phil, she is something worth lookingat forever, " said Lord Bob. 

"I never saw such eyes, such a complexion, such hair, such acarriage, " cried Lady Frances. 

"Has she any teeth?" asked Dickey, and was properly frowned upon byLady Jane. 

"You describe her as completely in that sentence, Lady Frances, as anovelist could in eight pages, " said Quentin. 

"No novelist could describe her, " was the answer. 

"It's to be hoped no novelist may attempt it, " said Quentin. "She isbeautiful beyond description, she will be a princess, and she knewme when I didn't know enough to appreciate her. Her eyes were bluein the old days, and her hair was almost black. Colors still obtain?Then we have her description in advance. Now, let's go on with theromance. "

V

A SUNDAY ENCOUNTER

It was a sunny Sunday morning and the church parade was popular. Lady Frances and Quentin were walking together when Prince Ugojoined them. He looked hardly over twenty-five, his wavy black hairgiving him a picturesque look. He wore no beard, and his dark skinwas as clear as a girl's. 

"By the way, " said Quentin, "Lady Saxondale tells me you are tomarry a former acquaintance of mine. "

"Miss Garrison is an acquaintance?" cried the prince, lifting hisdark eyes. An instant later his gaze roamed away into the horde ofpassing women, as if searching for the woman whose name broughtlight to his soul. 

"Was an acquaintance, I think I said. I doubt if she remembers menow. She was a child when I knew her. Is she here this morning?"asked Phil, secretly amused by the anxious look in the Italian'seyes. 

"She will be with Lady Marnham, Ah, I see them now. " The youngprince was looking eagerly ahead. 

Quentin saw Miss Garrison and gasped with astonishment. Could thatstunning young woman be the little Dorothy of New York days? Hecould scarcely believe his eyes and ears, notwithstanding theintroductions which followed. 

"And here is an old New York friend. Miss Garrison, Mr. PhilipQuentin. You surely remember him, Miss Garrison, " said Lady Frances, with a peculiar gleam in her eye. For a second the young lady atQuentin's side exhibited surprise; a faint flush swept into hercheek, and then, with a rare smile, she extended her hand to theAmerican. 

"Of course, I remember him. Phil and I were playmates in the olddays. Dear me, it seems a century ago, " she said. 

"I cannot tell you how well the century has treated you, " he said, gallantly. "It has not been so kind to me. "

"Years are never unkind to men, " she responded. She smiled upon theadoring prince and turned again to Quentin. "Tell me about New York, Phil. Tell me about yourself. "

"I can only say that New York has grown larger and better, and thatI have grown older and worse. Mrs. Garrison may doubt that I couldpossibly grow worse, but I have proof positive. I am dabbling inWall street. "

"I can imagine nothing more reprehensible, " said Mrs. Garrison, amiably. Quentin swiftly renewed his opinion of the mother. Thatestimate coincided with the impression his youth had formed, and itwas not far in the wrong. Here was the mother with a hope loftierthan a soul. Purse-proud, ambitious, condescending to a degree--awoman who would achieve what she set out to do at all hazards. Lessthan fifty, still handsome, haughty and arrogant, descended througha long line of American aristocracy, calm, resourceful, heartless. For fifteen years a widow, with no other object than to live at thetop and to marry her only child into a realm far beyond the dreamsof other American mothers. Millions had she to flaunt in the facesof an astonished, marveling people. Clever, tactful, aggressive, capable of winning where others had failed, this American mother wasrespected, even admired, in the class to which she had climbed. Herewas the woman who had won her way into continental society as havefew of her countrywomen. To none save a cold, discerning man fromher own land was she transparent. Lord Bob, however, had a faintconception of her aims, her capacity. 

As they walked on, Quentin scarcely took his eyes from MissGarrison's face. He was wearing down the surprise that thesweetheart of his boyhood had inspired, by deliberately seekingflaws in her beauty, her figure, her manner. After a time he felther more wonderful than ever. Lord Bob joined the party, and Quentinstopped a second to speak to him. As he did so Prince Ugo was atMiss Garrison's side in an instant. 

"So she is the girl that damned Italian is to elevate?" said Mr. Quentin to himself. "By George, it's a shame!" He did not see LordBob and his wife exchange a quick smile of significance. 

As they all reached the corner, Quentin asked: "Are you in Londonfor long, Dorothy?" Lady Frances thought his tone a trifle eager. 

"For ten days or so. Will you come to see me?" Their eyes met and hefelt certain that the invitation was sincerely given. "Lady Marnhamis having some people in to-morrow afternoon. Perhaps you'll comethen, " she added, and Phil looked crestfallen. 

"I'll come, " he said. "I want to tell you the story of my past life. You didn't know I'd been prime minister of a South Americanrepublic, did you?"

She nodded and they separated. Prince Ugo heard the last words ofthe American, and a small, clear line appeared for an instantbetween his black eyebrows. 

Lady Frances solemnly and secretively shook her ringer at Quentin, and he laughed with the disdain of one who understands and denieswithout the use of words. Lord Bob had wanted to kick him when hementioned South America, but he said nothing. Quentin was inwonderful spirits all the way home. 

VI

DOROTHY GARRISON

Quentin was driving with Lady Saxondale to the home of MissGarrison's hostess. Phil's fair, calculating companion said toherself that she had never seen a handsomer fellow than thisstalwart American. There was about him that clean, strong, sweetlook of the absolutely healthy man, the man who has buffeted theworld and not been buffeted by the world. He was frank, bright, straightforward, and there was that always-to-be-feared yetever-to-be-desired gleam of mastery in his eye. It may have beensometimes a wicked mastery, and more than one woman who admired himbecause she could not help herself had said, "There is a devil inhis eyes. "

They found Lady Marnham's reception hall full of guests, few of whomQuentin had seen before. He was relieved to find that the prince wasnot present, and he made his way to Dorothy's side, with LadyFrances, coolly dropping into the chair which a young captain hadmomentarily abandoned. Lady Frances sat beside Miss Garrison on thedivan. 

"I am so glad you kept your promise, Phil, and came. It seems goodto see you after all these years. You bring back the dear days athome, " said Dorothy, delight in her voice. 

"From that I judge you sometimes long for them, " he said, simply. ToLady Frances it sounded daring. 

"Often, oh, so very often. I have not been in New York for years. Lady Saxondale goes back so often that she doesn't have the chanceto grow homesick. "

"I hear you are going over this fall, " said Quentin, with a fairshow of interest. 

"Who--who told you so?" she asked, in some surprise. He could notdetect confusion. 

"Prince Ravorelli. At least, he said he expected to make the tripthis fall. Am I wrong in suspecting that he is not going alone?"

"We mean to spend much of the winter in the United States, chieflyin Florida. I shall depend on you, Phil, to be nice to him in NewYork. You can do so much to make it pleasant for him. He has neverbeen in New York, you know. "

"It may depend on what he will consider pleasant. I don't believe hewill enjoy all the things I like. But I'll try. I'll get DickeySavage to give a dinner for him, and if he can survive that, he'scapable of having a good time anywhere. Dickey's dinners are thereal test, you know. Americans stand them because they are ruggedand accustomed to danger. "

"You will find Prince Ugo rugged, " she said, flushing slightly, andhe imagined he could distinguish a softness in her tone. 

"I am told he is an athlete, a great horseman, a marvelousswordsman, " said Lady Frances. 

"I am glad you have heard something about him that is true, " saidDorothy, a trifle quickly. "Usually they say that princes are allthat is detestable and unmanly. I am sure you will like him, Phil. "

Mrs. Garrison came up at this moment with Lady Marnham, and Quentinarose to greet the former as warmly as he could under the smoothveil of hypocrisy. Again, just before Lady Frances signaled to himthat it was time for them to leave, he found himself inconversation, over the teacups, with Dorothy Garrison. This timethey were quite alone. 

"It doesn't seem possible that you are the same Dorothy Garrison Iused to know, " he said, reflectively. 

"Have I changed so much?" she asked, and there was in her manner anicy barrier that would have checked a less confident man than PhilipQuentin. 

"In every way. You were charming in those days. "

"And not charming now, I infer. "

"You are more than charming now. That is hardly a change, however, is it? Then, you were very pretty, now you are beautiful. Then, youwere--"

"I don't like flattery, Phil, " she said, hurt by what she felt to bean indifferent effort on his part to please her vanity. 

"I am quite sure you remember me well enough to know that I neversaid nice things unless I meant them. But, now that I think of it, it is the height of impropriety to speak so plainly even to an oldfriend, and an old--er--chum. "

"Won't you have a cup of tea?" she asked, as calmly as if he werethe merest stranger and had never seen her till this hour. 

"A dozen, if it pleases you, " he said, laughingly, looking straightinto the dark eyes she was striving so hard to keep cold andunfriendly. 

"Then you must come another day, " she answered, brightly. 

"I cannot come to-morrow, " he said. 

"I did not say 'to-morrow. '"

"But I'll come on Friday, " he went on, decisively. She lookedconcerned for an instant and then smiled. 

"Lady Marnham will give you tea on Friday. I shall not be at home, "she said. 

"But I am going back to New York next week, " he said, confidently. 

"Next week? Are you so busy?"

"I am not anxious to return, but my man Turk says he hates London. He says he'll leave me if I stay here a month. I can't afford tolose Turk. "

"And he can't afford to lose you. Stay, Phil; the Saxondales aresuch jolly people. "

"How about the tea on Friday?"

"Oh, that is no consideration. "

"But it is, you know. You used to give me tea every day in theweek. " He saw at once that he had gone beyond the lines, and drewback wisely. "Let me come on Friday, and we'll have a good, sensiblechat. "

"On that one condition, " she said, earnestly. 

"Thank you. Good-bye. I see Lady Frances is ready to go. Evidently Ihave monopolized you to a somewhat thoughtless extent. Everybody islooking daggers at me, including the prince, who came in ten minutesago. "

He arose and held her hand for a moment at parting. Her swift, abashed glance toward Prince Ugo, whose presence she had notobserved, did not escape his eyes. She looked up and saw thepeculiar smile on Quentin's lips, and there was deep meaning in hernext remark to him:

"You will meet the prince here on Friday. I shall ask him to comeearly, that he may learn to know you better. "

"Thank you. I'd like to know him better. At what hour is he tocome?"

"By 3:30, at least, " she said, pointedly. "Too early to be correct, you suspect?"

"I think not. You may expect me before three. I am not a sticklerfor form. "

"We shall not serve tea until four o'clock, " she said, coldly. 

"That's my hour for tea--just my hour, " he said, blithely. She couldnot repress the smile that his old willfulness brought to her lipsand eyes. "Thank you, for the smile. It was worth struggling for. "

He was gone before she could respond, but the smile lingered as hereyes followed his tall figure across the room. She saw him pause andspeak to Prince Ugo, and then pass out with Lady Saxondale. OnlyLady Saxondale observed the dark gleam in the Italian's eyes as heresponded to the big American's unconventional greeting. On the wayhome she found herself wondering if Dorothy had ever spoken to theprince of Philip Quentin and those tender, foolish days of girlhood. 

"Has she lost any of the charm?" she asked. 

"I am not quite sure. I'm to find out on Friday. "

"Are you going back on Friday?" in surprise. 

"To drink tea, you know. "

"Did she ask you to come?"

"Can't remember, but I think I suggested it. "

"Be careful, Phil; I don't want you to turn Dorothy Garrison'shead. "

"You compliment me by even suspecting that I could. Her head is set;it can't be turned. It is set for that beautiful, bejewelled thingthey call a coronet. Besides, I don't want to turn it. "

"I think the prince could become very jealous, " she went on, earnestly. 

"Which would mean stilettos for two, I presume. " After a moment'scontemplative silence he said: "By Jove! she is beautiful, though. "

Quentin was always the man to rush headlong into the very thickestof whatever won his interest, whether it was the tender encounter ofthe drawing-room or the dangerous conflict of the field. 

When he left Lady Marnham's house late on Friday afternoon he wasmore delighted than ever with the girl he had once loved. He waswith her for nearly an hour before the prince arrived, and he hadboldly dashed into the (he called them ridiculous) days when she hadbeen his little sweetheart, the days when both had sworn with youngfervor to be true till death. She did not take kindly at first tothese references to that early, mistaken affection, but hispersistence won. Before the prince arrived, the American had learnedhow she met him, how he had wooed and won, and how she had inspiredjealousy in his hot Italian heart by speaking of the "big, handsomeboy" over in New York. 

He secured her permission to join her in the Row on Tuesday. Therewas resistance on her part at first, but he laughed it off. 

"You should ask me to your wedding, " he said, as the prince came in. 

"But you will not be here. "

"I've changed my mind, " he said, calmly, and then smiled into herpuzzled eyes. "Brussels, isn't it?"

"Yes; the middle of September, " she said, dreamily. 

"You'll ask me to come?"

"I should have asked you, anyway. "

The two men shook hands. "Sorry I can't stay for tea, Dorothy, but Ipromised Lord Saxondale I'd meet him at four o'clock. " He did agenuinely American thing as he walked up the street. He whistled alively air. 

VII

THE WOMAN FROM PARIS

For two weeks Phil Quentin did not allow Dorothy to forget the oldassociation, and then came the day of her departure for Paris. Mrs. Garrison was by no means reluctant to leave London, --not that shedisliked the place or the people, but that one Philip Quentin hadunceremoniously, even gracefully, stepped into the circle of hercontentment, rudely obliterating its symmetrical, well-drawn lines. 

Mr. Quentin had much to overcome if he contemplated an assault uponthe icy reserve with which Dorothy Garrison's mother regarded hisgenial advances. She recalled the days when her daughter and he were"silly, lovesick children, " and there was not much comfort to bederived from the knowledge that he had grown older and moreattractive, and that he lost no opportunity to see the girl who onceheld his heart in leash. The mother was too diplomatic to expressopen displeasure or to offer the faintest objection to this renewalof friendship. If it were known that she opposed the visits of thehandsome American, all London would wonder, speculate, and finallyunderstand. Her disapproval could only be construed as anacknowledgment that she feared the consequences of association; itwould not be long before the story would be afloat that all was notsmooth in the love affairs of a certain prince, and that the firesof an old affection were burning brightly and merrily in the face ofa wrathful parent's opposition. 

In secret, Dorothy herself was troubled more than she cared to admitby the reappearance of one who could not but awaken memories ofother days, fondly foolish though they were. He was still the sameold Phil, grown older and handsomer, and he brought with himembarrassing recollections. He was nothing more to her now than anold-time friend, and she was nothing to him. She loved UgoRavorelli, and, until he appeared suddenly before her in London, Philip Quentin was dead to her thoughts. And yet she felt as if shewere playing with a fire that would leave its scar--not on her heartor Quentin's, perhaps, but on that of the man she was to marry. 

It required no great strength of vision to see that Ravorelli wasjealous, and it was just as plain that Quentin saw and enjoyed theuneasiness he was causing. She could not know, of course, that theAmerican had deliberately planned to play havoc with the peace andcomfort of her lover, for she recognized no motive. How could sheknow that Giovanni Pavesi, the tenor, and Prince Ravorelli were oneand the same to Philip Quentin? How could she know that thebeautiful Malban was slain in Rio Janeiro, and that Philip Quentinhad seen a handsome, dark-eyed youth led to and from the murderer'sdock in that far-away Brazilian city? How, then, could sheunderstand the conflict that waged with herself as the battlefield?

As for Quentin, he was bound by no law or duty to respect theposition of Prince Ravorelli. He was convinced that the sometimeRomeo had the stain of blood on his delicate hands and that in hisheart he concealed the secret of Carmenita Malban's death. In hismind, there was no mistake. Quentin's composure was shaken but oncein the fortnight of pleasure preceding Dorothy's departure forParis. That was when she indignantly, almost tearfully, called hisattention to the squib in a London society journal which ratherdaringly prophesied a "break in the Ravorelli-Garrison match, " andreferred plainly to the renewal of an "across-the-Atlanticaffection. " When he wrathfully promised to thrash the editor of thepaper, she shocked him by saying that he had created "enough of asensation, " and he went home with the dazed feeling of one who hassuffered an unexpected blow. 

On the evening before the Garrisons crossed the channel, Lord andLady Saxondale and Philip Quentin found themselves long aftermidnight in talk about the coming marriage. Quentin was rathersilent. His thoughts seemed far from the room in which he sat, andthere was the shadow of a new line about the corners of his mouth. 

"I am going to Brussels next week, " he said, deliberately. Theothers stared at him in amazement. 

"To Brussels? You mean New York, " said Lady Frances, faintly. 

"New York won't see me for some time. I'm going to make a tour ofthe continent. 

"This is going too far, old man, " cried Lord Bob. "You can't gainanything by following her, and you'll only raise the devil of a rowall round. Dash it! stay in London. "

"Thanks for the invitation, Bob, but I've always had a desire tolearn something about the miniature Paris. I shall spend some timein Paris, and then go up there to compare the places. Besides, therewon't be any row. "

"But there will be, Phil, " cried Lady Saxondale. "You must keep outof this affair. Why, all Europe knows of the wedding, and even nowthe continent is quietly nursing the gossip of the past two weeks. "She dropped into a chair, perplexed and anxious. 

"Let me tell you something, both of you. The events of the past twoweeks are tame in comparison with those of the next two months, "said Quentin, a new light in his eye. His tall figure straightenedand his nostrils expanded. 

"Wha--what do you mean?" floundered Lord Bob. 

"Just this: I love Dorothy Garrison, and I'm going to marry her. "

"Good heavens!" was the simultaneous gasp of Lord and LadySaxondale. And they could not dissuade him. Not only did he convincethem that he was in earnest, but before he left for Paris he hadmade them allies. Ugo's experience in Rio Janeiro shocked LadyFrances so seriously that she became a champion of the American'scause and agreed with Lord Bob that Dorothy should not be sacrificedif it were in their power to prevent. Of course Dickey Savageapproved of Quentin's campaign and effectually disposed of LadyJane's faint objections by saying:

"America for the Americans, Brussels for the Americans, England forthe Americans, everything and everybody for the Americans, butnothing at all for these confounded foreigners. Let the Italianmarry anybody he pleases, just so long as he doesn't interfere withan American. Let the American marry anybody he pleases, and toperdition with all interference. I'm for America against the worldin love or in war. "

"Don't forget, Mr. Savage, that you are a foreigner when on Britishsoil, " remonstrated the Lady Jane, vigorously. 

"My dear Lady Jane, an American is at home anywhere in this world. If you could see some of the foreigners that land at Castle Gardenyou wouldn't blame an American for absolutely, irrevocably andeternally refusing to be called a foreigner, even on the shores ofMadagascar. We are willing to be most anything, but I'll be hangedif we'll be foreigners. "

A week later Quentin was in Paris. Savage was to join him inBrussels about the middle of August, and Lord and Lady Saxondalepromised faithfully to come to that city at a moment's notice. Hewent blithely away with the firm conviction in his heart that it wasnot to be a fool's errand. But he was reckoning without the woman inthe case. 

"If you do marry her, Quentin, I've got just the place for you tolive in, for a while at least. I bought an old castle in Luxemburg acouple of years ago, just because the man who owned it was a friendand needed a few thousand pounds. Frances calls it CastleCraneycrow. It's a romantic place, and would be a great deal betterthan a cottage for love. You may have it whenever the time comes. Nobody lives there now but the caretaker and a lot of deucedtraditions. We can discharge the caretaker and you can make freshtraditions. Think it over, my boy, while you are dispatching theprince, the mamma and the fair victim's ambition to become a reallive princess. "

"Don't be sarcastic, Bob, " exclaimed Quentin. "I'll not need yourcastle. We're going to live in the clouds. "

"Beware of the prince, " said Lady Frances. "He is pretty highhimself, you know. "

"Let the prince beware, " laughed back the departing guest. "We can'tboth live in the same cloud, you know. I'll push him off. "

On the day Quentin left Paris for Brussels he came face to face withPrince Ugo on one of the Parisian boulevards. The handsome Italianwas driving with Count Sallaconi and two very attractive ladies. That the meeting was unexpected and undesired was made manifest bythe anxious look which the prince shot over his shoulder after thecarriage had passed. 

When Quentin left Paris that night with Turk and his luggage, he wasnot the only passenger bound for Brussels. At the Gare du Nord twomen, one suspiciously like the Duke Laselli, took a compartment inthe coach just ahead of Quentin. The train was due to reach Brusselsshortly after midnight, and the American had telegraphed forapartments at the Bellevue. There had been a drizzle of rain all theevening, and it was good to be inside the car, even if the seatswere uncomfortable. 

Turk and his master were the only passengers in the compartment. Thewatchful eyes of the former had seen several persons, men and women, pass through the aisle into which the section opened. One womanpaused at the entrance as if about 10 enter. She was fair to lookupon and Turk gallantly moved, presenting a roomy end of his seat toher. She passed on, however, and the little ex-burglar glancedsharply at his master as if to accuse him of frightening the fairone away. But Quentin was lying back, half-asleep, and there wasnothing repellent about the untroubled expression on his face. 

Before reaching Le Cateau the same lady passed the entrance andagain glanced inside. Turk was now asleep, but his master wasstaring dreamily toward the aperture leading to the aisle. He sawthe woman's face for an instant, and it gradually dawned upon himthat there was something familiar about its beauty. Where had heseen her before? Like the curious American he was, he arose a fewminutes later and deliberately walked into the aisle. He passed twocompartments before he saw the young woman. She was alone and wasleaning back, her eyes closed. Quentin observed that she was youngand beautiful and possessed the marks of fashion and refinement. Ashe stood for a moment looking upon the face of the dozing Frenchwoman, more certain than ever that he had seen her recently, sheopened her eyes with an affrighted start. 

He instantly and in some embarrassment turned to escape the eyeswhich had caught him in a rare bit of impertinence, but wassurprised to hear her call softly:^

"Monsieur!"

"Mademoiselle, " he replied, pausing, "can I be of service to you?"

"I must speak with you, M. Quentin. Come inside. I shall detain youbut a moment, and it is so very important that you should hear me. "She was now sitting upright, visibly excited and confused, but verymuch in earnest. 

"You know my name, " he said, entering and dropping to the seatbeside her. "Where have we met? Your face is familiar, but I amashamed to admit--"

"We have no time to talk of that. You have never met me, and wouldnot know who I am if I told you. Had it not been for that horridlittle man of yours I should have boldly addressed you sooner. Imust leave the train at Le Cateau, for I cannot go on to Quevy orMons. It would not be wise for me to leave France at this time. Youdo not know me, but I wish to befriend you. "

"Befriend me? I am sure one could not ask for a more charmingfriend, " said he, smiling gallantly, but now evincing a shade ofinterest. 

"No flattery, Monsieur! It is purely a personal matter with me; thisis by no means a pleasure trip. I am running a great risk, but it isfor my own sake as much as for yours, so do not thank me. I camefrom Paris on this train because I could not speak to you at theGare du Nord. You were watched too closely. "

"Watched? What do you mean?" almost gasped Quentin. 

"I can only say that you are in danger and that you have incurredthe displeasure of a man who brooks no interference. "

He stared at her for a moment, his mind in a whirl. The thought thatshe might be mad grew, but was instantly succeeded by another whichcame like a shock. 

"Is this man of noble blood?"

"Yes, " she almost whispered, turning her eyes away. 

"And he means to do me harm?"

"I am sure of it. "

"Because?"

"Because he fears your power. "

"In what direction?"

"You know without asking, M. Quentin. "

"And why do you take this interest in me? I am nothing to you. "

"It's because you are not to be treated fairly. Listen. On thistrain are two men who do not know that I am here, and who would beconfounded if they were to see me. They are in one of the forwardcoaches, and they are emissaries sent on to watch your everymovement and to report the progress of your--your business inBrussels. If you become too aggressive before the man who employsthem can arrange to come to Brussels, you are to be dealt with in amanner effectual. What is to be done with you, I do not know, but Iam certain you are in great danger unless you--" She paused, and aqueer expression came into her wide eyes. 

"Unless what? You interest me. " "Unless you withdraw from thecontest. " "You assume that there is a contest of some sort. Well, admitting there is one, I'll say that you may go back to the princeand tell him his scheme doesn't work. This story of yours--pardonme, Mademoiselle--is a clever one, and you have done your part well, but I am not in the least alarmed. Kindly return to the man who sentyou and ask him to come in your stead if he wants to frighten me. Iam not afraid of women, you know. "

"You wrong me, Monsieur; I am not his agent. I am acting purely onmy own responsibility, for myself alone. I have a personal object inwarning you, but that is neither here nor there. Let me add that Iwish you success in the undertaking which now interests you. Youmust believe me, though, when I say that you are in danger. Forewarned is forearmed. I do not know what steps are to be takenagainst you; time will expose them. But I do know that you are notto win what you seek. "

"This is a very strange proceeding, " began he, half-convinced of hersincerity. 

"We are nearing Le Cateau, and I must leave you. The men of whom Ispeak are the Duke Laselli and a detective called Courant. I knowthey are sent to watch you, and they mean you no good. Be careful, for God's sake, Monsieur, for I--I--want you to win!" She was standingnow, and with trembling fingers was adjusting a thick veil over herface. 

"Why are you so interested in me?" he asked, sharply. "Why do youwant me to win--to win, well, to win the battle?"

"Because--" she began, but checked herself. A deep blush spread overher face just as she dropped the veil. 

"The cad!" he said, understanding coming to him like a flash. "Thereis more than one heart at stake. "

"Good-bye and good luck, Monsieur, " she whispered. He held her handfor an instant as she passed him, then she was gone. 

Mile after mile from Le Cateau to Quevy found him puzzling over theodd experience of the night. Suddenly he started and muttered, halfaloud:

"By thunder, I remember now! It was she who sat beside him in thecarriage this morning!"

VIII

THE FATE OF A LETTER

At Quevy the customs officers went through the train, and Quentinknew that he was in Belgium. For some time he had been weighing inhis mind the advisability of searching the train for a glimpse ofthe duke and his companion, doubtful as to the sincerity of thebeautiful and mysterious stranger. It was not until the trainreached Mons that he caught sight of the duke. He had started outdeliberately at last to hunt for the Italian, and the latterevidently had a similar design. They met on the platform and, thoughit was quite dark, each recognized the other. The American was onthe point of addressing the duke when that gentleman abruptly turnedand reentered the train, one coach ahead of that occupied byQuentin, who returned to his compartment and proceeded to awaken thesnoring man-servant. Without reserve he confided to Turk the wholestory of the night up to that point. 

"I don't know what their game is, Turk, but we must not be caughtnapping. We have a friend in the pretty woman who got off in therain at Le Cateau. She loves the prince, and that's why she's withus. "

"Say, did she look's if she had royal blood in her? Mebby she's aqueen er somethin' like that. Blow me, if a feller c'n tell w'atsort of a swell he's goin' up ag'inst over here. Dukes and lords areas common as cabbies are in New York. Anyhow, this duke ain't got nobulge on us. We're nex' to him, all right, all right. Shall I crackhim on the knot when we git to this town we're goin' to? A good joltwould put him out o' d' business fer a spell--"

"Now, look here, young man; don't let me hear of you making a movein this affair till I say the word. You are to keep your mouthclosed and your hands behind you. What I want you to do is to watch, just as they are doing. Your early training ought to stand you wellin hand for this game. I believe you once said you had eyes in theback of your head. "

"Eyes, nothin'! They is microscopes, Mr. Quentin. "

Quentin, during the remainder of the run to Brussels, turned the newsituation over and over in his mind. That the prince was ready toacknowledge him as a dangerous rival gave him much satisfaction andinspired the hope that Miss Garrison had given her lover some causefor alarm. The decisive movement on the part of Prince Ugo toforestall any advantage he might acquire while near her in Brusselswas a surprise and something of a shock to him. It was an admission, despite his position and the pledge he had from the girl herself, that the Italian did not feel secure in the premises, and waswilling to resort to trickery, if not villainy, to circumvent theAmerican who knew him in other days. Phil felt positive that themove against him was the result of deliberate intent, else howshould his fair friend of the early evening know that a plot wasbrewing? Unquestionably she had heard or learned of the prince'sdirections to the duke. Her own interest in the prince was, ofcourse, the inspiration. To no one but herself could she entrust thedelivery of the warning. Her agitated wish, openly expressed, thatQuentin might win the contest had a much deeper meaning than wouldappear on the surface. 

From the moment he received the warning the affair began to take ona new aspect. Aside from the primal fact that he was desperately inlove with Dorothy Garrison, there was now the fresh incentive thathe must needs win her against uncertain odds and in the face ofsurprising opposition. In this day and age of the world, in affairsof the heart, an American does not look for rivalry that bears thesuggestion of medieval romance. The situation savored too much ofthe story-books that are born of the days when knights held sway, toappeal natural in the eyes of an up-to-date, unromantic gentlemanfrom New York, that city where love affairs adjust themselveswithout the aid of a novelist. 

Quentin, of course, was loath to believe that Prince Ugo wouldresort to underhand means to checkmate a rival whose real purposehad not yet been announced. In six weeks the finest wedding in yearswas to occur in Brussels. St. Gudule, that historic cathedral, wasto be the scene of a ceremony on which all European newspapers hadthe eye of comment. American papers had printed columns concerningthe engagement of the beautiful Miss Garrison. Everywhere had beenpublished the romantic story of this real love match. What, then, should the prince fear?

The train rumbled into the station at Brussels near midnight, andTurk sallied forth for a cab. This he obtained without the usualamount of haggling on his part, due to the disappointing fact thatthe Belgian driver could understand nothing more than the wordBellevue, while Turk could interpret nothing more than the wordfranc. As Quentin was crossing to the cab he encountered DukeLaselli. Both started, and, after a moment's pause, greeted eachother. 

"I thought I saw you at Mons, " said Phil, after the firstexpressions of surprise. 

"Yes; I boarded the train there. Some business called me to Monslast week. And you, I presume, like most tourists, are visiting adozen cities in half as many days, " said the duke, in his execrableEnglish. They paused at the side of the Italian's conveyance, andQuentin mentally resolved that the dim light, as it played upon theface of the speaker, was showing to him the most repellentcountenance he had ever looked upon. 

"Oh. No, " he answered, quickly, "I shall probably remain until afterthe marriage of my friend, Miss Garrison, and Prince Ugo. Are you tobe here long?"

"I cannot say, " answered the other, his black eyes fastened onQuentin's, "My business here is of an uncertain nature. "

"Diplomatic, I infer?"

"It would not be diplomatic for me to say so. I suspect I shall seeyou again, Mr. Quentin. "

"Doubtless; I am to be at the Bellevue. "

"And I, also. We may see some of the town together. "

"You are very kind, " said Quentin, bowing deeply. "Do you travelalone?"

"The duchess is ill and is in Florence. I am so lonely without her. "

"It's beastly luck for business to carry one away from a sick wife. By the way, how is my dear friend, Prince Ugo?"

"Exceptionally well, thank you. He will be pleased to know you arehere, for he is coming to Brussels next week. I think, if you willpardon me, he has taken quite a fancy to you. "

"I trust, after longer acquaintance, he may not find me adisappointment, " said Phil warmly, and a faint look of curiosityflashed into the duke's eyes. As they were saying good-night, Quentin looked about for the man who might be Courant, thedetective. But the duke's companion was not to be seen. 

The next morning Quentin proceeded in a very systematic andeffective way to locate the home of the Garrisons. He was aware, inthe beginning, that they lived in a huge, beautiful mansionsomewhere in the Avenue Louise. He knew from his Baedeker that theupper town was the fashionable quarter, and that the Avenue Louisewas one of the principal streets. An electric tramcar took himspeedily through the Boulevards Regent and Waterloo to the AvenueLouise. A strange diffidence had prevented him from asking at thehotel for directions that would easily have discovered her home. Somehow he wanted to stroll along the avenue in the early morningand locate the home of Dorothy Garrison without other aid than thepower which tells one when he is near the object of his adoration. He left the car at the head of the avenue and walked slowly alongthe street. 

His mind was full of her. Every vehicle that passed attracted hisgaze, for he speculated that she might be in one of them. Not awell-dressed woman came within the range of his vision but she wassubjected to a hurried inspection, even from a distance. He strodeslowly along, looking intently at each house. None of them seemed tohim to hold the object of his search. As his steps carried himfarther and farther into the beautiful avenue he began to smile tohimself and his plodding spirit wavered. After all, thought he, noone but a silly ass would attempt to find a person in a great cityafter the fashion he was pursuing. He was deciding to board atramcar and return to the hotel when, at some distance ahead, he sawa young lady run hurriedly down the steps of an impressive lookinghouse. 

He recognized Dorothy Garrison, and with a thump of exultation hisheart urged him across the street toward her. She evidently had notseen him; her eyes were on the ground and she seemed preoccupied. Inher hand she held a letter. A gasp of astonishment, almost of alarm, came from her lips, her eyes opened wide in that sort of surprisewhich reveals something like terror, and then she crumpled theletter in her hand spasmodically. 

"I thought you lived down here somewhere, " he exclaimed, joyfully, seizing her hand. "'I knew I could find you. "

"I--I am so glad to see you, " she stammered, with a brave effort torecover from the shock his appearance had created. "What are youdoing here, Phil?"

"Looking for you, Dorothy. Shall I post your letter?"

She was still standing as if rooted to the spot, the letter in a sadplight. 

"Oh, I'll not--not post it now. I should have sent the footman. Comewith me and see mamma. I know she will be glad to have you here, "she hurried, in evident confusion. She bethought herself suddenlyand made an effort to withdraw the letter from its ratherconspicuous position. The hand containing it was drawn behind herback. 

"That will be very nice of her. Better post the letter, though. Somebody's expecting it, you know. Hullo! That's not a nice way totreat a letter. Let me straighten it out for you. ''

"Never mind, Phil--really, I don't care about it. You surprised me sotremendously that I fear I've ruined it. Now I shall have to writeanother. "

"Fiddlesticks! Send it as it is. The prince will blame thepostoffice people, " cried he. 

"It is not for the prince, " she cried, quickly, and then became moreconfused than ever. "Come to the house, Phil. You must tell me howyou happen to be here. "

As they walked slowly to the Garrison home and mounted the steps, she religiously held the epistle where he could not regard it tooclosely should his curiosity overcome his prudence. They wereushered into the reception room, and she directed the footman to askif Mrs. Garrison could see Mr. Quentin. 

"Now, tell me all about it, " she said, taking a chair quite acrossthe big room. 

"There's nothing to tell, " he said. "I am in Brussels, and I thoughtI'd hunt you up. "

"But why didn't you write or wire me that you were coming? Youhaven't acted much like a friend, " she said, pointedly. 

"Perhaps I wrote and never mailed the letter. Remember yourexperience just now. You still hold the unlucky note in your hand. Sometimes we think better of our intentions at the very instant whenthey are going into effect. It is very mysterious to me that youwouldn't mail that letter. I can only believe that you changed yourmind when you saw me. "

"How absurd! As if seeing you could have anything to do with it!"

"You ought to tell me if my appearance here is liable to alter anyplan that letter is intended to perfect. Don't let me be aninconvenience. You know I'd rather be anything than aninconvenience. '

"It doesn't matter in the least; really, it doesn't. Your coming--"

The footman appeared on the landing above at that instant and saidsomething to her in a language Quentin could not understand. Heafterward heard it was French. And he always had thought himself apretty fair French scholar, too. 

"Mamma has asked for me, Phil. Will you pardon me if I leave youalone for a moment?" she said, arising and starting toward the grandstairway. The letter, which she had forgotten for the moment, fellfrom her lap to the rug. In an instant he had stepped forward topick it up. As he stooped she realized what had happened, and, witha frantic little cry, stooped also. Their heads were close together, but his hand was the first to touch the missive. It lay with theaddress upward, plain to the eye; he could not help seeing the name. 

It was addressed to "Philip Quentin, Esq. , care of the Earl ofSaxondale, Park Lane, London, W. S. " Surprise stayed his fingers, and hers clutched the envelope ruthlessly. As they straightenedthemselves each was looking directly into the other's eyes. In hersthere was shame, confusion, even guilt; in his, triumphant, tantalizing mirth. 

"My letter, please, " he said, his voice trembling, he knew not why. His hand was extended. She drew suddenly away and a wave of scarletcrossed her face. 

"What a stupid I was to drop it, " she cried, almost tearfully. Thenshe laughed as the true humor of the situation made itself felt inspite of consequences. "Isn't it too funny for anything?"

"I can't see anything funny in tampering with the mails. You have myletter, and I hope it won't be necessary for me to call in theofficers of the law. "

"You don't expect me to give it to you?" she cried, holding itbehind her. 

"Most assuredly. If you don't, I'll ask Mrs. Garrison to command youto do so, " he threatened, eagerly. He would have given his head toread the contents of the letter that caused her so much concern. Allsorts of conjectures were racing through his brain. 

"Oh, please don't do that!" she begged, and he saw real supplicationin her eyes. "I wouldn't give you the letter for the world, andI--I--well, don't you see that I am embarrassed?"

"Give me the letter, " he commanded, Sternly. 

"Do you wish me to hate you?" she blazed. 

"'Heaven forbid!"

"Then forget that your name is on this--this detestable envelope, "she cried, tearing the missive into pieces. He looked on in wonder, chagrin, disappointment. 

"By George, Dorothy, that's downright cruel. It was intended forme--"

"You should thank me. I have only saved you the trouble ofdestroying it, " she said, smiling. 

"I would have kept it forever, " he said, fervently. 

"Here's a small bit of the envelope which you may keep as asouvenir. See, it has your name--'Philip'--on it. You shall have thatmuch of the letter. " He took it rather gracelessly and, deliberatelyopening his watch, placed it inside the case. "I'd give $10, 000 toknow what that letter had to say to me. "

"You can never know, " she said, defiantly, from the bottom of thesteps, "for I have forgotten the contents myself. "

She laughed as she ran upstairs, but he detected confusion in thetone, and the faint flush was still on her cheek. He sat down andwondered whether the contents would have pleased or displeased him. Philosophically he resolved that as long as he was never to know hemight just as well look at it from a cheerful point of view; hewould be pleased. 

IX

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER

It would be difficult to define the emotions that consumed MissGarrison as she entered her mother's boudoir. She could not concealfrom herself the sensation of jubilant delight because he had cometo Brussels. At the same time, even though his visit was that of amere friend, it promised complications which she was loath to face. She went into the presence of her mother with the presentiment thatthe first of the series was at hand. 

"What is Philip Quentin doing here, Dorothy?" demanded Mrs. Garrison. She was standing in the center of the room, and herattitude was that of one who has experienced a very unpleasantsurprise. The calm, cold tone was not far from accusing; her steelyeyes were hard and uncompromising. The tall daughter stood beforeher, one hand still clutching the bits of white paper; on her facethere was the imprint of demure concern. 

"I haven't had time to ask him, mamma, " she said, lightly, "Would itbe quite the proper thing to demand the reason for his presence herewhen it seems quite clear that he is paying us a brief morningcall?"

"Do not be absurd! I mean, what is he doing in Brussels? Didn't hesay he was to return to New York last week?" There was refinedbelligerence in her voice. Dorothy gave a brief thought to the cool, unabashed young man below and smiled inwardly as she contemplatedthe reception he was to receive from this austere interrogator. 

"Don't ask me, mamma, I am as much puzzled as you over his suddenadvent. It is barely possible he did not go to New York. "

"Well, why didn't he?" This was almost a threat. 

"It is a mystery we have yet to unravel. Shall we send for SherlockHolmes?"

"Dorothy, I am very serious. How can you make light of thisunwarranted intrusion? He is--"

"Why do you call it intrusion, mamma? Has he not the right to come?Can we close the door in his face? Is he not a friend? Can we helpourselves if he knocks at our door and asks to see us?" Dorothy felta smart tug of guilt as she looked back and saw herself trudgingsheepishly up the front steps beside the intruder, who had not beenpermitted to knock at the door. 

"A gentleman would not subject you to the comments of--of--well, I maysay the whole world. He certainly saw the paragraphs in those Londonpapers, and he knows that we cannot permit them to be repeated overhere. He has no right to thrust himself upon us under thecircumstances. You must give him to understand at once, Dorothy, that his intentions--or visits, if you choose to call them such--areobnoxious to both of us. "

"Oh, mamma! we've talked all this over before. What can I do? Iwouldn't offend him for the world, and I am sure he is incapable ofany desire to have me talked about, He knows me and he likes me toowell for that. Perhaps he will go away soon, " said Dorothy, despairing petulance in her voice, Secretly she was conscious of thejustice in her mother's complaints. 

"He shall go soon, " said Mrs. Garrison, with determination. 

"You will not--will not drive him away?" said her daughter, quickly. 

"I shall make him understand that you are not the foolish child heknew in New York. You are about to become a princess. He shall beforced to see the impregnable wall between himself and the PrincessRavorelli--for you are virtually the owner of that glorious title. Asingle step remains and then you are no longer Dorothy Garrison. Philip Quentin I have always disliked, even mistrusted. Hisreputation in New York was that of a man of the town, a richroisterer, a 'breaker of hearts, ' as your uncle has often calledhim. He is a daring notoriety seeker, and this is rare sport forhim. " Mrs. Garrison's eyes were blazing, her hands were clenched, her bearing that of one who is both judge and executioner. 

"I think you do him an injustice, " said Dorothy, slowly, a feelingof deep resentment asserting itself. "Philip is not what you callhim. He is a gentleman. " Mother and daughter looked into eachother's eyes squarely for a moment, neither flinching, bothjustifying themselves for the positions they were to take. 

"You defend him?"

"As he would defend me. "

"You have another man to defend. Do you think of him?"

"You have yet to say that Ugo is no gentleman. It will then be timefor defense, such as I am offering now. "

"We are keeping your friend waiting, Dorothy, " said Mrs, Garrison, with blasting irony. "Give him my compliments and say that we trusthe may come every day. He affords us a subject for pleasantdiscussion, and I am sure Prince Ugo will be as charmed to meet himhere as he was in London. "

"Don't be sarcastic, mamma. It doesn't help matters and--" beganDorothy, almost plaintively. 

"Mr. Quentin certainly does not help matters, my dear. Still, if youwill enjoy the comment, the notoriety that he may be generous enoughto share with you, I can say no more. When you are ready to dismisshim, you shall find me your ally. " She was triumphant because shehad scored with sarcasm a point where reason must have fallen farshort

"I might tell Rudolf to throw him into the street, " said Dorothy, dolefully, "only I am quite positive Phil would refuse to be thrownby less than three Rudolfs. But he is expecting you downstairs, mamma. He asked for you. "

"I cannot see him to-day. Tell him I shall be only too glad to seehim if he calls again, " and there was a deep, unmistaken meaning inthe way she said it. 

"You will not go down?" Dorothy's face flushed with something akinto humiliation. After all, he did not deserve to be treated like adog. 

"I am quite content upstairs, " replied Mrs. Garrison, sweetly. 

Dorothy turned from her mother without another word, and as she wentdown the stairs there was rebellion in her soul; the fires ofresistance showed their first tiny tongues in the hot wave thatswept through her being. Quentin was stretched out comfortably in abig chair, his back toward the stairs, his eyes upon the busy avenuebelow. She paused for a moment at the foot of the stairs and therewas a strange longing to pass her fingers over the thick dark hair. The thought passed instantaneously, but there was a new shyness inher manner as she approached. 

"Hullo, " he said, arising as he heard her footfall. "Been watchingthe people drive by. Pretty smart traps, some of them, too. The oldfamilies that came over in the Ark with Moses--er, Noah, I shouldsay. " There was deep concern in the remark, but she was confidentthat he vaguely understood why she was alone. 

"Mamma trusts you will excuse her this morning. She says she will beglad to see you when you come again. " She seated herself on a divannear the window, a trifle out of the glaring light of the Augustsun. She held in her hand a fan and the bits of paper haddisappeared. "Isn't it dreadfully warm?"

"Looks like rain, too, " said he, briefly. Then, with new animation:"Tell me, what was in that letter?"

"Nothing but nonsense, " she replied, smiling serenely, for she wasagain a diplomat. 

"How dare you! How dare you write nonsense to me? But, really, I'dlike to know what it was. You'll admit I have a right to becurious. "

"It pleases me to see you curious. I believe it is the first time Iever saw you interested in anything. Quite novel, I assure you. "

"Don't you mean to tell me?"

"Assuredly--not. "

"Well, I think it's a roaring shame to write anything to a fellowthat he can't be allowed to read. I wouldn't treat you that way. "

"I know you wouldn't. You are too good, and too sensible, and tooconsiderate, and all the other kind of too's, while I am just anunaccountable ninny. If you ever did anything crazy you wouldn'tlike to have it found out, would you?"

"By all means! Then I could take treatment for the malady. Leanforward, Dorothy, so that I can see your eyes. That's right! Now, look at me squarely. Will you tell me what was in that letter?" Shereturned his gaze steadily, almost mockingly. 

"No. "

"That's all I want to know. I can always tell by a girl's eyeswhether she is stubborn. "

"I am not stubborn. "

"Well, I'll drop the matter for all time. Doubtless you were rightwhen you said it was nonsense; you ought to know. Changing thesubject, I think I'll like Brussels if I stay here long enough. " Hewas again nonchalant, indifferent. Under her mask of unconcern shefelt a trifle piqued that he did not persist in his endeavor tolearn the contents of the unfortunate letter. 

"How long do you expect--I mean purpose to stay?" she asked. 

"It depends on conditions. I may be crazy enough to stay six weeksand I may be crazy enough to go away next week. You see, I'm notcommitting myself to any specified degree of insanity; it won't makeso much difference when I am found out, as you say. At present, however, I contemplate staying until that affair at St. Gudule. "

She could not hide the annoyance, the discomfiture, his assertioninspired. In a second she saw endless unpleasantries--somepleasantries, it is fair to say--and there seemed to be no gentle wayof escape. At the same time, there came once more the queer fluttershe had felt when she met him in the street, a half-hour before. 

"You will find it rather dull here, I am afraid, " she found courageto say. "Or do you know many people--the American minister, perhaps?"

"Don't know a soul here but you and Mrs. Garrison. It won't bedull--not in the least. We'll ride and drive, go ballooning oranything you like--"

"But I can't, Phil. Do you forget that I am to be married in sixweeks?" she cried, now frightened into an earnest appeal. 

"That's it, precisely. After that you can't go ballooning withanybody but the prince, so for at least a month you can have a goodtime telling me what a jolly good fellow he is. That's what girlslike, you know, and I don't mind in the least. If you want to talkabout him by the hour, I won't utter an objection. Of course, Isuppose you'll be pretty busy with your trousseau and so forth, andyou'll have the house full of visitors, too, no doubt. But you cangive me a little time. "

"I am sure mamma would not--"

"She never did approve, if that's what you were about to say. Whatis she afraid of? Does she imagine that I want to marry you? Goodheavens!" So devout was his implied denial of such a project thatshe felt herself grow hot. "Doesn't she think the prince has yousafely won? You are old enough to take care of yourself, I'm sure. "

"She knows that I love Prince Ugo, and that he is the only man Ishall ever love. Her disapproval would arise from the needlessexposure to comment. You remember what the London paper said aboutus. " If she thought that he was chilled by her bold openingassertion she was to find herself mistaken. He smiled complacently. 

"I thought it was very nice of them. I am preserving the clipping, "he said, airily. "We can talk over this little difficulty withpublic opinion when we've had more time to think about it. You see, I've been here but ten hours, and I may be willing to leavetomorrow, that is, after I've seen more of the town. I may not likethe king, and I'm quite sure the palace doesn't suit me. I'll comearound to-morrow and we'll drive through one of these famous parks--"

"Oh, no, Phil! Really, you don't know how it embarrasses me--"

"I'll go away to-night, if you say you don't want to see me at all, Dorothy, " he said, seriously, rising and standing before her. 

"I don't mean that. You know I want to see you--for old times' sake. "

"I shall go, nevertheless, if you merely hint that I am unwelcome. "She arose and suddenly gave him her hand. 

"You are not unwelcome, and you are foolish to speak in thatmanner, " she said, seriously. 

"And your mother?"

"She must endure what I endure. "

"Somewhere Baedeker says that the Bois de la Cambre is the finestpark in Brussels, " said he, his eyes gleaming. 

"I am quite sure Baedeker is reliable, " she agreed, with a smile. 

"At three o'clock to-morrow afternoon, then, I will come for you. Will you remember me to your mother and tell her I am sorry not tosee her to-day? Good-bye!"

She followed him to the door, and when he sped lightly down thesteps there was a broad smile on the face of each. He turned andboth laughed outright. "Where there's a will, there's a way, " shemused, as she went to her room upstairs. An hour later her dailyletter to the prince was ready for the post. The only allusion tothe visitor of the morning was: "Mr. Quentin--our New York friend, you will remember--made us a brief call this morning. He is quiteundecided as to the length of his stay here, but I hope you will behere to see him. "

Then, dismissing Quentin from her mind, she sat down to dream of theone great event in her life--this wonderful, glorious wedding in oldSt. Gudule's. Already her trousseau was on a fair way to completion. She gave no thought to the fortune that these gowns were to cost, she considered not the glories she was to reap by becoming a realprincess, she dwelt not on the future before her, for she knew shewas to be happy with Ugo. Instead, she dreamed only of the "colorscheme" that was to make memorable her wedding procession. 

In her mind's eye she saw the great church thronged with the mostbrilliant, illustrious assemblage it had ever held (she was quitesure no previous gathering could have been more august), and a smileof pride came to her lips. The great chorus, the procession, thelights, the incomprehensible combination of colors, the chancel, theflowers, her wedding gown, and Ugo's dark, glowing face rushed inand out of her vision as she leaned back in her chair and--almostforgot to breathe. The thought of Ugo grew and grew; she closed hereyes and saw him at her side as they walked proudly from the altarwith the good bishop's blessing and the song of the choir in theirears, the swelling of love in their souls. So vivid became the dreamof his presence that she could almost feel his hand touching hers:she felt her eyes turn toward him, with all that great crowdwatching, and her heart quivered with passion as his dark, happyeyes burnt through to her very soul. Somehow she heard distinctlythe whisper, "My wife!"

Suddenly a strange chill came over this idle, happy dream, and sheopened her eyes with a start, Ugo's face fading away like a flash. The thought had rushed in like a stab from a dagger. Would PhilipQuentin be there, and would he care? Would he care?

X

TWO IN A TRAP

"Th' juke sent his card up, sir, " said Turk, his master was oncemore in his rooms at the Bellevue. Turk was looking eminentlyrespectable in a new suit of blue serge. 

"When?" asked Phil, glancing at Laselli's card. He had forgotten theItalian, and the sight of his name recalled the plot unpleasantly. 

"'Bout eleven o'clock. I watched him leave th' hotel an' go downthat street over there--th' same one you took a little earlier. "

"Watching me, I suspect. Haven't seen that detective fellow, haveyou, Turk? You ought to be able to scent a detective three milesaway. "

"I can't scent in this language, sir. "

Early in the evening, as Quentin was leaving the hotel for a shortstroll, he met the duke. The Italian accosted him familiarly andasked if he were trying to find a cool spot. 

"I thought a ride on the tramcars might cool me off a bit, '" saidPhil. 

"I know the city quite well, and I, too, am searching for relieffrom the heat. Do you object to company in your ride or stroll?"

"Happy to have you, I assure you. If you'll be good enough to waithere for a moment, till I find my stick, I'll be with you. " The dukebowed politely, and Phil hastened back to his rooms. He secured hisstick, and did more. Like a wise young man, he bethought himself ofa possible trap, and the quest of the stick gave him the opportunityto instruct Turk to follow him and the duke and to be where he wasneeded in case of an emergency. 

The tall, fresh-faced American in his flannels, and the short, bearded Italian in his trim frock coat and silk hat strolledleisurely forth into the crowded Place du Palais. 

"Shall we walk awhile and then find a cafe where we may havesomething to drink?" asked the duke, his English so imperfect thatno writer could reproduce it. 

"I am in your hands, and at your mercy, " said the other, clingingclose to him as they merged into the crowd. 

"May I ask if you have many friends in Brussels?" Under thepoliteness of the inquiry Quentin, with amusement, saw the realinterest. Looking calmly into the Italian's beady eyes, he said:

"I know but four persons here, and you are included in the list. Myservant is another. Mrs. And Miss Garrison are old and particularfriends, you know. In fact, my dear duke, I don't believe I shouldhave come to Brussels at all were they not here. "

"They are most charming and agreeable, " murmured the duke. "This issuch a frightful crowd Shall we not cross to the other side?"

"What's the use? I used to play football--you don't know what thatis, I suppose--and I'll show you how to get through a mob. Get infront--that's right--and I'll bring up in the rear. " Laughing tohimself, he brought his big frame up against the little man's backand surged forward. Sure enough, they went "through the mob, " butthe duke was the volley end of the battering ram. Never in all hislife had he made such hurried and seemingly unnecessary progressthrough a blockading crowd of roisterers. When they finally wentlunging into the half-deserted Rue de la Madeleine, his silk hat wasawry, his composure was ruffled, and he was very much out of breath. Phil, supremely at ease, heaved a sigh of satisfaction, drawing fromthe Italian a half-angry, half-admiring glance. 

"Much easier than I thought, " said Quentin, puffing quietly at hiscigar. 

"We did it very nicely, " agreed the other, with a brave effort toequal the American's unconcern. Nevertheless, he said to himselfmany times before they reached the broad Boulevard Anspach, thatnever had he taken such "a stroll, " and never had he known howlittle difference there was between a steam and a human propeller. He almost forgot, as they sat at a small, table in front of a cafe, to institute his diplomatic search for the real object of theAmerican's presence in Brussels. 

It was twelve o'clock when they returned to the hotel, after arather picturesque evening in the gay cafes. 

Here is what the keen little Italian deduced: Quentin was to remainin Brussels until he took a notion to go somewhere else; Quentin hadseen the prince driving on the Paris boulevards; the Bois de laCambre offers every attraction to a man who enjoys driving; theAmerican slept with a revolver near his pillow, and his manservanthad killed six or seven men in the United States because of hismarvellous skill with the pistol; Quentin was a most unsophisticatedyoung man, with honesty and innocence in his frank eyes, althoughthey sometimes grew rather searching; he could only be overcome bycunning; he was in love with Miss Garrison. 

Quentin's conclusions: Laselli was a liar and an ass; Prince Ugowould be in Brussels within ten days; he was careless with thehearts of women and cruel with their love; French detectives are thebest in the world, the most infallible; Miss Garrison loved the veryground the prince trod upon. He also discovered that the duke coulddrink wine as a fish drinks water, and that he seldom made overturesto pay for it until his companion had the money in hand, ready to doso. 

Turk was waiting for him when he reached his rooms, and Turk was notamiable. A very attractive, innocent and demure young lady, whocould not speak English except with her hands and eyes, had relievedhim of a stickpin and his watch while he sat with her at a table notfar from the man he was protecting with his vaunted "eagle eye. "

"An' she swiped 'em right under me nose, an' me eyes square on her, too. These people are too keen for me. They ain't a fairy in NewYork that could 'a' touched me without d' dope, lemme tell you. It'ought I knowed a t'ing er two, but I don't know buttons fromfishhooks. I'm d' easiest t'ing 'at ever went to Sunday school. "

It was with a flushed, rebellious face that Miss Garrison steppedinto the victoria the next afternoon for the drive to the Bois de laCambre. She had come from a rather trying tilt with her mother, and, as they drove off between the rows of trees, she felt that a pair offlaming eyes were levelled from a certain upstairs window in theAvenue Louise. The Biblical admonition to "honor thy father and thymother" had not been entirely disregarded by this willful younglady, but it had been stretched to an unusual limit for theoccasion. She felt that she was very much imposed upon bycircumstances in the shape of an unreasonable mother and aninconvenient friend. 

Mr. Quentin, more in love than ever, and more deeply inspired by thelonging to win where reason told him he must fail, did not flatterhimself into believing that Mrs. Garrison wholly approved of thedrive. Instead, he surmised from the beginning that Dorothy'sflushed cheeks were not from happiness, but from excitement, andthat he was not altogether a shadowy cause. With rare tact heplunged at once to the bottom of the sea of uncertainty and began tostruggle upward to the light, preferring such a course to the onewhere you start at the top, go down and then find yourself powerlessto get back to the surface. 

"Was your mother very much annoyed when you said you were coming outwith me?" he asked. She started and a queer little tinge ofembarrassment sprang into her eyes. 

"How absurd!" she said, readily, however. "Isn't the avenuebeautiful?"

"I don't know--yet, " he said, without looking at the avenue. "Whatdid she say?" Miss Garrison did not reply, but looked straight aheadas if she had not heard him. "See here, Dorothy, I'm not a child andI'm not a lovesick fool. Just curious, that's all. Your mother hasno cause to be afraid of me--"

"You flatter yourself by imagining such a thing as--"

"--because there isn't any more danger that I shall fall in lovewith you than there is of--of--well, of your falling in love with me;and you know how improbable--"

"I don't see any occasion to refer to love in any way, " she said, icily. "Mamma certainly does not expect me to do such anextraordinary thing. If you will talk sensibly, Phil, we may enjoythe drive, but if you persist in talking of affairs so ridiculous--"

"I can't say that I expect you to fall in love with me, so for onceyour mother and I agree. Nevertheless, she didn't want you to comewith me, " he said, absolutely undisturbed. 

"How do you know she didn't?" she demanded, womanlike. Then, beforeshe was quite aware of it, they were in a deep and earnestdiscussion of Mrs. Garrison, and her not very complimentary views. 

"And how do you feel about this confounded prospect, Dorothy? Youare not afraid of what a few gossips--noble or otherwise--may sayabout a friendship that is entirely the business of two people andnot the property of the general public? If you feel that I am in theway I'll gladly go, you know. Of course, I'd rather hate to missseeing you once in a while, but I think I'd have the courage to--"

"Oh, it's not nice of you to be sarcastic, " she cried, wondering, however, whether he really meant "gladly" when he said it. Somehowshe felt herself admitting that she was piqued by his apparentreadiness to abdicate. She did not know that he was cocksure of hisground before making the foregoing and other observations equally asindifferent. 

"I'm not sarcastic; quite the reverse. I'm very serious. You knowhow much I used to think of you--"

"But that was long ago, and you were such a foolish boy, " she cried, interrupting nervously. 

"Yes, I know; a boy must have his foolish streaks. How a fellowchanges as he gets older, and how he looks back and laughs at thefancies he had when a boy. Same way with a girl, though, I suppose. "He said it so calmly, so naturally that she took a sly peep at hisface. It revealed nothing but blissful imperturbability. 

"I'm glad you agree with me. You see, I've always thought you werehorribly broken up when I--when I found that I also was indulging ina foolish streak. I believe I came to my senses before you did, though, and saw how ridiculous it all was. Children do such queerthings, don't they?" It was his turn to take a sly peep, and hisspirits went down a bit under the pressure of her undisguisedfrankness. 

"How lucky it was we found it out before we ran away with eachother, as we once had the nerve to contemplate. Gad, Dorothy, didyou ever stop to think what a mistake it would have been?" She wasbowing to some people in a brougham, and the question was neveranswered. After a while he went on, going back to the originalsubject. "I shall see Mrs. Garrison to-night and talk it over withher. Explain to her, you know, and convince her that I don't in theleast care what the gossips say about me. I believe I can live itall down, if they do say I am madly, hopelessly in love with thevery charming fiancee of an Italian prince. "

"You have me to reckon with, Phil; I am the one to consider and theone to pass judgment. You may be able to appease mamma, but it is Iwho will determine whether it is to be or not to be. Let us drop thesubject. For the present, we are having a charming drive. Is it notbeautiful?"

To his amazement and to hers, when they returned late in theafternoon Mrs. Garrison asked him to come back and dine. 

"I must be dreaming, " he said to himself, as he drove away. "She'sas shrewd as the deuce, and there's a motive in her suddenfriendliness. I'm beginning to wonder how far I'll drop and how hardI'll hit when this affair explodes. Well, it's worth a mightystrenuous effort. If I win, I'm the luckiest fool on earth; if Ilose, the surprise won't kill me. " At eight he presented himselfagain at the Garrison house and found that he was not the onlyguest. He was introduced to a number of people, three of whom wereAmericans, the others French. These were Hon. And Mrs. HoraceKnowlton and their daughter, Miss Knowlton, M. And Mme. De Cartier, Mile. Louise Gaudelet and Count Raoul de Vincent. 

"Dorothy tells me you are to be in Brussels for several weeks, and Iwas sure you would be glad to know some of the people here. They cankeep you from being lonesome, and they will not permit you to feelthat you are a stranger in a strange land, " said Mrs. Garrison. Quentin bowed deeply to her, flashed a glance of understanding atDorothy, and then surveyed the strangers he was to meet. Quickintelligence revealed her motive in inviting him to meet thesepeople, and out of sheer respect for her shrewdness he felt likeapplauding. She was cleverly providing him with acquaintances thatany man might wish to possess, and she was doing it so early thatthe diplomacy of her action was as plain as day to at least twopeople. 

"Mamma is clever, isn't she?" Dorothy said to him, merrily, as theyentered the dining-room. Neither was surprised to find that he hadbeen chosen to take her out. It was in the game. 

"She is very kind. I can't say how glad I am to meet these people. My stay here can't possibly be dull, " he said. "Mile. Gaudelet isstunning, isn't she?"

"Do you really think so?" she asked, and she did not see his smile. 

The dinner was a rare one, the company brilliant, but there was tooccur, before the laughter in the wine had spent itself, an incidentin which Philip Quentin figured so conspicuously that his wit as adinner guest ceased to be the topic of subdued side talk, and hetook on a new personality. 

XI

FROM THE POTS AND PLANTS

The broad veranda, which faced the avenue and terminated at thecorner of the house in a huge circle, not unlike an openconservatory, afforded a secluded and comparatively cool retreat forthe diners later in the evening. Banked along the rails were therarest of tropical plants; shaded incandescent lamps sent their glowfrom somewhere among the palms, and there was a suggestion offairy-land in the scene. If Quentin had a purpose in beingparticularly assiduous in his attentions to Mlle. Gaudelet, he didnot suspect that he was making an implacable foe of Henri deCartier, the husband of another very charming young woman. Unaccustomed to the intrigues of Paris, and certainly not aware thatBrussels copied the fashions of her bigger sister across the borderin more ways than one, he could not be expected to know that deCartier loved not his wife and did love the pretty Louise. Nor couldhis pride have been convinced that the young woman at his side wasenjoying the tete-a-tete chiefly because de Cartier was fiercelycursing the misfortune which had thrown this new element intoconflict. It may be unnecessary to say that Mrs. Garrison wasdelighted with the unmistakable signs of admiration manifested bythe two young people. 

It was late when Quentin reluctantly arose to make his adieux. Hehad finished acknowledging the somewhat effusive invitations to thehouses of his new acquaintances, and was standing near Dorothy, directly in front of a tall bank of palms. From one point of viewthis collection of plants looked like a dense jungle, so thicklywere they placed on the porch at its darkest end. The light from adrawing-room window shone across the front of the green mass, butdid not penetrate the recess near the porch rail. He was takingadvantage of a very brief opportunity, while others were movingaway, to tell her that Mile. Louise was fascinating, when her handsuddenly clasped his arm and she whispered:

"Phil, there is a man behind those palms. " His figure straightened, but he did not look around. 

"Nonsense, Dorothy. How could a man get--" he began, in a very lowtone. 

"I saw the leaves move, and just now I saw a foot near the rail. Becareful, for heaven's sake, but look for yourself; he is near thewindow. "

Like statues they stood, she rigid under the strain, but braveenough and cool enough to maintain a remarkable composure. She feltthe muscle of his forearm contract, and there swept over her astrange dread. His eyes sought the spot indicated in a perfectlynatural manner, and there was no evidence of perturbation in hisgaze or posture. The foot of a man was dimly discernible in theshadow, protruding from behind a great earthen jar. Without a wordhe led her across the porch to where the others stood. 

"Good-night, Mrs. Garrison, " he said, calmly, taking the hand sheproffered. Dorothy, now trembling like a leaf, looked on in mutesurprise. Did he mean to depart calmly, with the knowledge that theyneeded his protection? "Good-night, Miss Garrison. I trust I shallsee you soon. " Then, in a lower tone: "Get the people around thecorner here, and not a word to them. "

The ladies were quite well past the corner before he ventured totell the men, whom he held back on some trifling pretext, that therewas a man among the plants. The information might have caused asmall panic had not his coolness dominated the nerves of the others. 

"Call the gendarmes, " whispered de Cartier, panic stricken. "Callthe servants. "

"We don't want the officers nor the servants, " said Philip, coolly. "Let the ladies get inside the house and we'll soon have a look atour fellow guest. "

"But he may be armed, " said the count, nervously. 

"Doubtless he is. Burglars usually are. I had an experience with anarmed burglar once on a time, and I still live. Perhaps a few palmswill be damaged, but we'll be as considerate as possible. There isno time to lose, gentlemen. He may be trying to escape even now. "

Without another word he turned and walked straight toward the palms. Not another man followed, and he faced the unwelcome guest alone. Faced is the right word, for the owner of the telltale foot hadtaken advantage of their momentary absence from that end of theporch to make a hurried and reckless attempt to leave his crampedand dangerous hiding-place. He was crowding through the outer circleof huge leaves when Quentin swung into view. The light from thewindow was full in the face of the stranger, white, scared, dogged. 

"Here he is!" cried Quentin, leaping forward. "Come on, gentlemen!"

With a frantic plunge the trapped stranger crashed through theplants, crying hoarsely in French as he met Quentin in the open:

"I don't want to kill you! Keep off!"

Quentin's arm shot out and the fellow went tumbling back among thepots and plants. He was up in an instant. As the American leapedupon him for the second blow, he drove his hand sharply, despairingly, toward that big breast. There came the ripping ofcloth, the tearing of flesh, and something hot gushed over Phil'sshoulder and arm. His own blow landed, but not squarely, and, as hestumbled forward, his lithe, vicious antagonist sprang aside, makinganother wild but ineffectual sweep with the knife he held in hisright hand. Before Quentin could recover, the fellow was dashingstraight toward the petrified, speechless men at the end of theporch, where they had been joined by some of the women. 

"Out of the way! Out of the way!" he shrieked, brandishing hisknife. Through the huddled bunch he threw himself, unceremoniouslytoppling over one of them. The way was clear, and he was down thesteps like a whirlwind. It was all over in an instant's time, butbefore the witnesses to the encounter could catch the second breath, the tall form of Philip Quentin was flying down the steps in closepursuit. Out into the Avenue Louise they raced, the fugitive with aclear lead. 

"Come back, Phil!" cried a woman's voice, and he knew the tonebecause of the thrill it sent to his heart. 

He heard others running behind him, and concluded that his fellowguests had regained their wits and were in the chase with him. Ifthe pursued heard the sudden, convulsive laugh of the man behind himhe must have wondered greatly. Phil could not restrain the wilddesire to laugh when he pictured the sudden and precipitous halt hisvaliant followers would be compelled to make if the fugitive shoulddecide to stop and show fight. One or more of them would doubtlessbe injured in the impossible effort to run backward while stillgoing forward. 

Blood was streaming down his arm and he was beginning to feel anexcruciating pain. Pedestrians were few, and they made no effort toobstruct the flight of the fugitive. Instead, they gave him a wideberth. From far in the rear came hoarse cries, but Quentin wasuttering no shout. He was grinding his teeth because the fellow hadworsted him in the rather vainglorious encounter on the porch, andwas doing all in his power to catch him and make things even. To hisdismay the fellow was gaining on him and he was losing his ownstrength. Cursing the frightened men who allowed the thief to passon unmolested and then joined in the chase, he raced panting onward. The flying fugitive suddenly darted into a narrow, dark street, fifty feet ahead of his pursuer, and the latter felt that he hadlost him completely. There was no sign of him when Quentin turnedinto the cross street; he had disappeared as if absorbed by theearth. 

For a few minutes Philip and the mob--quite large, inquisitive andeager by this time--searched for a trace of the man, but withoutavail. The count, de Cartier and the Honorable Mr. Knowlton, withseveral of Mrs. Garrison's servants, came puffing up and, to hisamazement and rage, criticised him for allowing the man to escape. They argued that a concerted attack on the recess amongst the palmswould have overwhelmed the fellow and he would now be in the handsof the authorities instead of as free as air. Quentin endured theexpostulations of his companions and the fast-enlarging mirth of thecrowd for a few moments in dumb surprise. Then he turned suddenly toretrace his steps up the avenue, savagely saying:

"If I had waited till you screwed up nerve enough to make a combinedattack, the man would not have been obliged to take this long andtiresome run. He might have called a cab and ridden away in peaceand contentment. "

A laugh of derision came from the crowd and the two Frenchmen lookedinsulted. Mr. Knowlton flushed with shame and hurried after his tallcountryman. 

"You are right, Quentin, you're right, " he wheezed. "We did notsupport you, and we are to blame. You did the brave and properthing, and we stood by like a lot of noodles--"

"Well, it's all over, Knowlton, and we all did the best we could, "responded Philip, with intense sarcasm which was lost on Mr. Knowlton. Just then a sturdy little figure bumped against him and helooked down as the newcomer grasped his arm tightly. 

"Hello, Turk! It's about time you were showing up. Where the devilhave you been?" exclaimed he, wrathfully. 

"I'll tell y' all about it w'en I gits me tires pumped full agin. Come on, come on; it's private--strictly private, an' nobody's nex'but me. " When there was a chance to talk without being overheard bythe three discomfited gentlemen in the rear, Turk managed to givehis master a bit of surprising news. 

"That guy was Courant, that's who he was. He's been right on yourheels since yesterday, an' I just gits nex' to it. He follers you upto th' house back yonder an' there's w'ere I loses him. Seems likehe hung aroun' the porch er porticker, er whatever it is over here, watchin' you w'en you wuz inside. I don't know his game, but he'sth' guy. An' I know w'ere he is now. "

"The dickens you do! You infernal little scoundrel, take me there atonce. Good Lord, Turk, I've got to catch him. These people willlaugh at me for a month if I don't. Are you sure he is Courant? Howdo you know? Where is he?" cried Phil, excited and impatient. 

"You ain't near bein' keen. He doubled on you, that's w'at he done. W'en you chased him off on that side street he just leaps over th'garden wall an' back he comes into a yard. I comes up, late asusual, just in time t' see him calmly prance up some doorsteps an'ring th' bell. Wile th' gang an' you wuz lookin' fer him in th'gutters an' waste paper boxes, he stan's up there an' grinscomplackently. Then th' door opens an' he slides in like a fox. "

"Where is the house? We must search it from top to bottom. "

"Can't do that, Mr. Quentin. How are you goin' to search that housewithout a warrant? An' w'at are you goin' to find w'en you do searchit? He's no common thief. He's in a game that we don't know nothin'about, an' he's got cards up his sleeve clear to th' elbow. Th'people in that house is his friends, an' he's safe, so w'at's th'use? I've got th' joint spotted an' he don't know I am nex'. It's apoint in our favor. There wuz a woman opened the door, so she's inth' game, too. Let's lay low, Mr. Quentin, an' take it cool. "

"But what in thunder was he doing behind those palms? That wasn't avery sensible bit of detective work, was it?"

"Most detectives is asses. He was hidin' there just to earn hismoney. To-morrow he could go to th' juke an' tell him how slick he'dbeen in hearin' w'at you said to th' young lady w'en you thoughtnobody was listenin'. Was he hid near a window?'

"Just below one--almost against the casing. "

"Easy sailin'. He figgered out that some time durin' th' night youan' her would set in that window an' there you are. See? But Iwonder w'at he'll say to th' juke to-morrow?"

"I hate to give this job up, " growled Phil. "But I must get back tothe hotel. The villain cut me with a knife. "

By this time they were in front of the Garrison home, and in anundertone he bade Turk walk on and wait for him at the corner below. 

"Did he escape?" cried Dorothy from the steps. 

"He gave us the slip, confound him, Dorothy. "

"I'm glad, really I am. What could we have done with him if he hadbeen caught? But are you not coming in?"

"Oh, not to-night, thank you. Can't you have some one bring out myhat and coat?" He was beginning to feel faint and sick, andpurposely kept the bloody arm from the light. 

"You shall not have them unless you come in for them. Besides, wewant you to tell us what happened. We are crazy with excitement. Madame de Cartier fainted, and mamma is almost worried to death. "

"Are you not coming up, Mr. Quentin?" called Mrs. Garrison, from theveranda. 

"You must come in, " said de Cartier, coming up at that moment withthe count and Mr. Knowlton. 

"Really, I must go to the hotel, I am a little faint after thatwretched run. Let me go, please; don't insist on my coming in, " hesaid. 

"Mon dieu!" exclaimed the count. "It is blood, Monsieur! You arehurt!"

"Oh, not in the least--merely a--"

"Phil!" cried Dorothy, standing in front of him, her wide eyeslooking intently into his. "Are you hurt? Tell me!"

"Just a little cut in the arm or shoulder, I think. Doesn't amountto anything, I assure--"

"Come in the house at once, Philip Quentin!" she exclaimed. "Mr. Knowlton, will you ask Franz to telephone for Dr. Berier?" Then shesaw the blood-stained hand and shuddered, turning her face away. "Oh, Phil!" she whispered. 

"That pays for this cut and more, if necessary, " he said, in a lowvoice, as he walked at her side up the steps. 

"Lean on me, Phil, " she said. "You must be faint. " He laughedmerrily, and his eyes sparkled with something not akin to pain. 

Dr. Berier came and closed the gash in his shoulder. An hour laterhe came downstairs, to find Mrs. Garrison and Dorothy alone. 

"You were very brave, Mr. Quentin, but very foolhardy, " said Mrs. Garrison. "I hope from my heart the wound will give you littletrouble. "

His good right hand closed over hers for an instant and then claspedDorothy's warmly, lingeringly. 

"You must let us hear from you to-morrow, " said she, softly. 

"Expect me to fetch the message in person, " said he, and he was offdown the steps. He did not look back, or he might have seen herstanding on the veranda, her eyes following him till he was joinedby another man at the corner below. 

XII

HE CLAIMED A DAY

The strange experience of the evening brought Quentin sharply to asense of realization. It proved to him that he was feared, else whythe unusual method of campaign? To what extent the conspiratorswould carry their seemingly unnecessary warfare he was now, for thefirst time, able to form some sort of opinion. The remarkableboldness of the spy at the Garrison home left room for considerablespeculation as to his motive. What was his design and what wouldhave been the ending to his sinister vigil? Before Quentin sleptthat night he came to the drowsy conclusion that luck had reallybeen with him, despite his wound and Courant's escape, and that thesudden exposure of the spy destroyed the foundation for an importantmove in the powderless conflict. 

In the morning his shoulder was so sore that the surgeon informedhim he could not use the arm for several days. Turk philosophicallybore the brunt of his master's ire. Like a little Napoleon heendured the savage assaults from Quentin's vocal batteries, takingthem as lamentations instead of imprecations. The morning newspapersmentioned the attempt to rob Mrs. Garrison's house and soundlydeplored the unstrategic and ill-advised attempt of "an Americannamed Canton" to capture the desperado. "The police department issevere in its criticism of the childish act which allowed the wretchto escape detection without leaving the faintest clew behind. Officers were close at hand, and the slightest warning would havehad them at the Garrison home. The capture of this man would havemeant much to the department, as he is undoubtedly one of thediamond robbers who are working havoc in Brussels at this time. Hewas, it is stated positively by the police, not alone in hisoperations last night. His duty, it is believed, was to obtain thelay of the land and to give the signal at the proper moment for acareful and systematic raid of the wealthy woman's house. The policenow fear that the robbers, whose daring exploits have shocked andalarmed all Brussels, are on their guard and a well-defined plan toeffect their capture is ruined. A prominent attache of thedepartment is of the opinion that an attempt was to have been madeby the band to relieve all of Mrs. Garrison's guests of their jewelsin a sensational game of 'stand and deliver. '"

"The miserable asses!" exploded Phil, when 'he read the foregoing. "That is the worst rot I ever read. This police department couldn'tcatch a thief if he were tied to a tree. Turk, if they were so nearat hand why the devil didn't they get into the chase with me and runthat fellow down?"

"Th' chances are they was in th' chase, Mr. Quentin, but they didn'tget th' proper direction. They thought he was bein' chased th' otherway, an' I wouldn't be surprised if some of 'em run five or sixmiles before they stopped t' reflect. "

"If there is a gang of diamond robbers or comic opera bandits inthis city I'll bet my hand they could steal the sidewalks withoutbeing detected, much less captured. A scheme to rob all of Mrs. Garrison's guests! The asses!"

"Don't get excited, sir. You'll burst a blood vessel, an' that's agood sight worse than a cut, " cautioned Turk. 

"Turk, in all your burglarious years, did you ever go about robbinga house in that manner?"

"Not in a million years. "

"Well, what are we to do next?" demanded Quentin, reflectively, ignoring his former question and Turk's specific answer. "Shall wegive the police all the information we have and land Mr. Courant injail?"

"This is our game, sir, not th' police's. For th' Lord's sake, don'tgive anything up to th' cops. They'll raise particular thunder intheir sleep, an' we gets th' rough ha! ha! from our frien's, th'enemy. We pipes this little game ourself, an' we wins, too, if wesucceed in keepin' th' police from gettin' nex' to anything they'dmistake for a clue. "

Phil thought long and hard before sitting down at noon to write toDickey Savage. He disliked calling for help in the contest, but witha bandaged arm and the odds against him, he finally resolved that heneeded the young New Yorker at his side. Dickey was deliberationitself, and he was brave and loyal. So the afternoon's post carrieda letter to Savage, who was still in London, asking him to come toBrussels at once, if he could do so conveniently. The same postcarried a letter to Lord Bob, and in it the writer admitted that hemight need reinforcements before the campaign closed. He alsoinclosed the clipping from the newspaper, but added a choice andcaustic opinion of the efficiency of the Brussels police. He did notallude specifically to Courant, the duke, or to the queer beginningof the prince's campaign. 

Early in the afternoon Mrs. Garrison sent to inquire as to hiswound. In reply he calmly prepared for an appearance in person. Turkaccompanied him, about four o'clock, in a cab to the house in AvenueLouise. There were guests, and Phil was forced to endure a rathereffusive series of feminine exclamations and several politeexpressions from men who sincerely believed they could have donebetter had they been in his place. Mrs. Garrison was a trifledistant at first, but as she saw Quentin elevated to the pedestal ofa god for feminine worship she thawed diplomatically, and, with raretact, assumed a sort of proprietorship. Dorothy remained in thebackground, but he caught anxious glances at his arm, and, once ortwice, a serious contemplation of his half-turned face. 

"I'll let her think the fellow was one of the diamond robbers forthe present, " thought he. "She wouldn't believe me if I told her hewas in the employ of the prince, and the chances are she'd ruineverything by writing to him about it. "

When at last he found the opportunity to speak with her alone heasked how she had slept. 

"Not at all, not a wink, not a blink. I imagined I heard robbers inevery part of the house. Are you speaking the truth when you tellall these people it is a mere scratch? I am sure it is much worse, and I want you to tell me the truth, " she said, earnestly. 

"I've had deeper cuts that didn't bleed a drop, " said he. "If youmust have the truth, Dorothy, I'll confess the fellow gave me arather nasty slash, and I don't blame him, He had to do it, and he'sjust as lucky as I am, perhaps, that it was no worse. I wish tocompliment your Brussels police, too, on being veritablebloodhounds. I observed as I came in that they have at last scentedthe blood on the pavement in front of the house and have washed awaythe stain fairly well. "

"Wasn't the story in the morning paper ridiculous? You were verybrave. I almost cried when I saw how the horrid detectivescriticised you. "

"I'm glad to hear you say that, because I was afraid you'd thinklike the rest--that I was a blundering idiot. "

"You did not fear anything of the kind. Do you really think he wasone of those awful diamond robbers who are terrorizing the town? Icould not sleep another wink if I thought so. Why, last spring arich merchant and his wife were drugged in one of the cafes, takenby carriage to Watermael, where they were stripped of theirvaluables and left by the roadside. "

"Did you see an account of the affair in your morning paper?"

"Yes--there were columns about it. "

"Then I think eight-tenths of the crime was committed at a cityeditor's desk. It's my opinion these diamond thieves are a set ofordinary pickpockets and petty porch climbers. A couple of New Yorkpolicemen could catch the whole lot in a week. "

''But, really, Phil, they are very bold and they are not at allordinary. You don't know how thankful we are that this one wasdiscovered before he got into the house. Didn't he have a knife?Well, wasn't it to kill us with if we made an outcry?" She wasnervous and excited, and he had it on the tip of his tongue to allayher fears by telling what he thought to be the true object of iheman's visit. 

"Well, no matter what he intended to do, he didn't do it, and he'llnever come back to try it again. He will steer clear of this house, "he said, reassuringly

A week, two weeks went by without a change in the situation. DickeySavage replied that he would come to Brussels as soon as his hearttrouble would permit him to leave London, and that would probably beabout the twentieth of August. In parentheses he said he hoped to beout of danger by that time. The duke was persistent in hisfriendliness, and Courant had, to all intents and purposes, disappeared completely. Prince Ugo was expected daily, and Mrs. Garrison was beginning to breathe easily again. The police had givenup the effort to find the Garrison robber, and Turk had learnedeverything that was to be known concerning the house in whichCourant found shelter after eluding his pursuers on the night of theaffray. Quentin's shoulder was almost entirely healed, and he wasbeginning to feel himself again. The two weeks had found him aconstant and persistent visitor at Miss Garrison's home, but he wascompelled to admit that he had made no progress in his crusadeagainst her heart. She baffled him at every turn, and he wasbeginning to lose his confident hopes. At no time during theirtete-a-tetes, their walks, their drives, their visits to the artgalleries, did she give him the slightest ground for encouragement. And, to further disturb his sense of contentment, she wasdelighted--positively delighted--over the coming of Prince Ugo. Fora week she had talked of little save the day when he was to arrive. Quentin endured these rapturous assaults nobly, but he was slowlybeginning to realize that they were battering down the only defensehe had--the inward belief that she cared for him in spite of all. 

Frequently he met the Duke Laselli at the Garrisons'. He also saw agreat deal of the de Cartiers and Mile. Gaudelet. When, one day, heboldly intimated to Dorothy that de Cartier was in love with Louiseand she with him, that young lady essayed to look shocked anddispleased, but he was sure he saw a quick gleam of satisfaction inher eyes. And he was positive the catch in her breath was not somuch of horror as it was of joy. Mrs. Garrison did all in her powerto bring him and the pretty French girl together, and her insistenceamused him. 

One day her plans, if she had any, went racing skyward, and she, aswell as all Brussels society, was stunned by the news that deCartier had deserted his wife to elope with the fair Gaudelet! WhenQuentin laconically, perhaps maliciously, observed that he had longsuspected the nature of their regard for one another, Mrs. Garrisongave him a withering look and subsided into a chillingunresponsiveness that boded ill for the perceiving young man. Theinconsiderate transgression of de Cartier and the unkindness of theGaudelet upset her plans cruelly, and she found that she had wastedtime irreparably in trying to bring the meddling American to thefeet of the French woman. Quentin revelled in her discomfiture, andDorothy in secret enjoyed the unexpected turn of affairs. 

She had seen through her mother's design, and she had known allalong how ineffectual it would prove in the end. Philip puzzled herand piqued her more than she cared to admit. That she did not carefor him, except as a friend, she was positive, but that he shouldpersistently betray signs of nothing more than the most ordinaryfriendship was far from pleasing to her vanity. The truth is, shehad expected him to go on his knees to her, an event which wouldhave simplified matters exceedingly. It would have given her theopportunity to tell him plainly she could be no more than a friend, and it would have served to alter his course in what she believed tobe a stubborn love chase. But he had disappointed her; he had beenthe amusing companion, the ready friend, the same sunny spirit, andshe was perplexed to observe that he gave forth no indication ofhoping or even desiring to be more. She could not, of course, knowthat this apparently indifferent young gentleman was wiser, farwiser, than the rest of his kind. He saw the folly of a rash, hastyleap in the dark, and bided his time like the cunning general whofrom afar sees the hopelessness of an attack against a strong andwatchful adversary, and waits for the inevitable hour when the vigilis relaxed. 

There was no denying the fact that with all his confidence hiscolors were sinking, while hers remained as gallantly fluttering aswhen the struggle began. He was becoming confused and nervous; afeeling of impotence began slyly, devilishly to assail him, and hefrequently found himself far out at sea. The strange inactivity ofthe prince's cohorts, the significant friendliness of the duke, theeverlasting fear that a sudden move might catch him unawares beganto tell on his peace of mind. Both he and Turk watched like cats forthe slightest move that might betray the intentions of the foe, butthere was nothing, absolutely nothing. The house in which Courantfound safety was watched, but it gave forth no secrets. The duke'severy movement appeared to be as open, as fair, as unsuspicious asman's could be, and yet there was ever present the feeling that someday something would snap and a crisis would rush upon them. Late oneafternoon he drove up to the house in Avenue Louise, and whenDorothy came downstairs for the drive her face was beaming. 

"Ugo comes to-morrow, " she said, as they crossed to the carriage. 

"Which means that I am to be relegated to the dark, " he said, dolefully. 

"Oh, no! Ugo likes you and I like you, you know. Why, are we not tobe the same good friends as now?" she asked, suddenly, with a prettyshow of surprise. 

"Oh, I suppose so, " he said, looking straight ahead. They weredriving rapidly toward the Bois de la Cambre. "But, of course, I'llnot rob the prince of moments that belong to him by right ofconquest. You may expect to see me driving disconsolately along theavenue--alone. "

"Mr. Savage will be here, " she said, sweetly, enjoying his firstshow of misery. 

"But he's in love, and he'll not be thinking of me. I'm the only onein all Christendom, it seems to me, who is not in love withsomebody, and it's an awful hardship. "

"You will fall really in love some day, never fear, " shevolunteered, after a somewhat convulsive twist of the head in hisdirection. 

"Unquestionably, " he said, "and I shall be just as happy and asfoolish as the rest of you, I presume. "

"I should enjoy seeing you really and truly in love with some girl. It would be so entertaining. "

"A perfect comedy, I am sure. I must say, however, that I'd feelsorry for the girl I loved if she didn't happen to love me. "

"And why, pray?"

"Because, " he said, turning abruptly and looking straight into hereyes, "she'd have the trouble and distinction of surrendering in theend. "

"You vain, conceited thing!" she exclaimed, a trifle disconcerted. "You overestimate your power. "

"Do you think I overestimate it?" he demanded, quickly. 

"I don t--don't know. How should I know?" she cried, in completerout. In deep chagrin she realized that he had driven her sharplyinto unaccountable confusion, and that her wits were scatteringhopelessly at the very moment when she needed them most. 

"Then why do you say I overestimate it?" he asked, relentlessly. 

"Because you do, " she exclaimed, at bay. 

"Are you a competent judge?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, grasping for time. 

"I mean, have you the right to question my power, as you call it?Have I attempted to exert it over you?"

"You are talking nonsense, Phil, " she said, spiritedly. 

"I said I'd feel sorry for the girl if she didn't happen to love me, you know. Well, I couldn't force her to love me if she didn't loveme, could I?"

"Certainly not. That is what I meant, " she cried, immenselyrelieved. 

"But my point is that she might love me without knowing it and wouldsimply have ta be brought to the realization. "

"Oh, " she said, "that is different. "

"You take back what you said, then?" he asked, maliciously. 

"If she loved you and did not know it, she'd be a fool and you couldexert any kind of power over her. You see, we didn't quiteunderstand each other, did we?"

"That is for you to say, " he said, smiling significantly. "I think Iunderstand perfectly. "

By this time they were opposite the Rue Lesbroussart, and he drovetoward the Place Ste. Croix. As they made the turn she gave a startand peered excitedly up the Avenue Louise, first in front of hercompanion, then behind. 

"Oh, Phil, there is Ugo!" she cried, clasping his arm. "See! In thetrap, coming toward us. " He looked quickly, but the trees and housesnow hid the other trap from view. 

"Are you sure it is he?"

"Oh, I am positive. He has come to surprise me. Is there no way wecan reach the house first? By the rear--anyway, " she cried, excitedly. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were sparkling. 

"Was he alone?" asked he, his jaw setting suddenly. 

"That has nothing to do with it. We must hurry home. Turn back, Phil; we may be able to overtake him on the avenue. "

"I wanted to take you to the Park, Dorothy. "

"Well?"

"That's all, " he went on, calmly. "The prince can leave his card andcall later in the--well, this evening. "

"What--you don't mean--Philip Quentin, take me home instantly, " sheblazed. 

"Not for all the princes in the universe, " he said. "This is myafternoon, and I will not give up a minute of it. "

"But I command, sir!"

"And I refuse to obey. "

"Oh--oh, this is outrageous----" she began, frantically. 

Suddenly his gloved left hand dropped from the reins and closed overone of hers. The feverish clasp and the command in his eyescompelled her to look up into his face quickly. There she saw thelook she feared, admired, deserved. 

"There was a time when you wanted to be with me and with no other. Ihave not forgotten those days, nor have you. They were the sweetestdays of your life and of mine. It is no age since I held this handin mine, and you would have gone to the end of the world with me. Itis no age since you kissed me and called me a king. It is no agesince you looked into my eyes with an expression far different fromthe one you now have. You remember, you remember, Dorothy. "

She was too surprised to answer, too overcome by the suddenness ofhis assault to resist. The power she had undertaken to estimate wasin his eyes, strong, plain, relentless. 

"And because you remember I can see the hardness going from youreyes, the tenderness replacing it. The flush in your cheek is not somuch of anger as it was, your heart is not beating in rebellion asit was, and all because you cannot forget--you will not forget. "

"This is madness, " she cried, shivering as with a mighty chill. 

"Madness it may be, Dorothy, but--well, because we have notforgotten the days when we were sweethearts, I am claiming this dayof you and you must give it to me for the same reason. You must sayto me that you give it willingly, " he half whispered, intensely. Shecould only look helplessly into his eyes. 

From the rumble Turk saw nothing, neither did he hear. 

XIII

SOME UGLY LOOKING MEN

Prince Ugo Ravorelli was not, that day, the only one whose coming toBrussels was of interest to Quentin. Dickey Savage came in fromOstend and was waiting at the Bellevue when he walked in soon aftersix o'clock. Mr. Savage found a warm welcome from the tall young manwho had boldly confiscated several hours that belonged properly tothe noble bridegroom, and it was not long until, dinner over, he waslolling back in a chair in Quentin's room, his feet cocked on thewindow sill, listening with a fair and increasing show of interestto the confidences his friend was pouring forth. 

"So you deliberately drove off and left the prince, eh? And shedidn't sulk or call you a nasty, horrid beast? I don't know what thedevil you want me here for if you've got such a start as that. Seemsto me I'll be in the way, more or less, " said Dickey, when the storyreached a point where, to him, finis was the only appropriate word. 

"That's the deuce of it, Dickey. I can't say that I've got a safestart at all, even with her, and I've certainly got some distance togo before I can put the prince out of the running. You may thinkthis is a nice, easy, straightaway race, but it isn't. It's going tobe a steeplechase, and I don't know the course. I'm looking for awide ditch at any turn, and I may get a nasty fall. You see, I'vesome chance of getting my neck broken before I get to the stretch. "

"And some noted genius will be grinding out that Lohengrin two-stepjust about the time you get within hearing distance, too. You won'tbe two-stepping down the aisle at St. Gudule, but you'll agree thatit's a very pretty party. That will be all, my boy--really all. Idon't want to discourage you and I'm willing to stay by you tillthat well-known place freezes over, but I think an ocean voyagewould be very good for you if you can arrange to start to-morrow. "

"If you're going into this thing with that sort of spirit, you'll bea dead weight and I'll be left at the post, " said Quentin, ruefully. 

"Was the prince at the house when you returned from the drive?"

"No; and Mrs. Garrison almost glared a hole through me. There wereicicles on every word when she told poor Dorothy he had been thereand would return this evening. "

"Was she satisfied to finish the drive with you after she had seenthe prince?" Quentin had not told him of the conversation whichfollowed her demand to be taken home. 

"She was very sensible about it, " he admitted, carefully. "You see, she had an engagement with me, and as a lady she could not wellbreak it. We got along very nicely, all things considered, but I'mafraid she won't go out again with me. "

"She won't slam the door in your face if you go to the house, willshe?"

"Hardly, " said the other, smiling. "She has asked me to come. Theprince likes me, it seems. "

"But he likes to be alone with her, I should say. Well, don'tinterfere when he is there. My boy, give him a chance, " said Dickey, with a twinkle. 

The duke headed off the two Americans as they left the hotel half anhour later. He was evidently watching for them, and his purpose wasclear. It was his duty to prevent Quentin from going to the Garrisonhome, if possible. After shaking hands with Savage, the little mansuggested a visit to a dance house in the lower end, promising anevening of rare sport. He and Count Sallaconi, who came up fromParis with the prince, had planned a little excursion into unusualhaunts, and he hoped the Americans had a few dull hours that neededbrightening. Phil savagely admitted to himself that he anticipated agood many dull hours, but they could not be banished by thevulgarity of a dance hall. The long, bony, fierce-mustached countcame up at this moment and joined in imploring the young men to gowith them to the "gayest place in all Brussels. "

"Let's go, Phil, just to see how much worse our New York places arethan theirs, " said Dickey. 

"But I have a--er--sort of an engagement, " remonstrated Quentin, reluctantly. The duke gave him a sharp look. 

"Do not be afraid, " he said, laughing easily. "We will not permitthe dancing girls to harm you. "

"He's not afraid of girls, " interposed Dickey. "Girls are his longsuit. You didn't tell me you had an engagement?" Quentin gave him awithering look. 

"I have one, just the same, " he said, harshly. 

"You will not accompany us, then?" said the count, the line betweenhis eyebrows growing deeper. 

"I have to thank you, gentlemen, and to plead a previous engagement. May we not go some other night?"

"I am afraid we shall not again be in the same mood for pleasure, "said the duke, shifting his eyes nervously. "The count and I havebut little time to give to frivolity. We are disappointed that youwill not join us on this one night of frolic. "

"I regret it exceedingly, but if you knew what I have to do to-nightyou would not insist, " said Phil, purposely throwing a cloak ofmystery about his intentions for the mere satisfaction of arousingtheir curiosity. 

"Very well, mes Americains; we will not implore you longer, "responded the count, carelessly. "May your evening be as pleasant asours. " The two Italians bowed deeply, linked arms and strolled away. 

"Say, those fellows know you haven't an engagement, " exclaimedSavage, wrathfully. "What sort of an ass are you?"

"See here, Dickey, you've still got something to learn in thisworld. Don't imagine you know everything. You don't, you know. Doyou think I am going to walk into one of their traps with my eyesopen?"

"Traps? You don't mean to say this dance hall business is a trap?"exclaimed Dickey, his eyes opening wide with an interest entirelyforeign to his placid nature. 

"I don't know, and that's why I am keeping cut of it. Now, let'stake our walk, a nice cool drink or two and go to bed where we candream about what might have happened to us at the dance hall. "

"Where does she live?" asked Savage, as they left the rotunda. 

"Avenue Louise, " was the laconic answer. 

"Why don't you say Belgium or Europe, if you're bound to beexplicit, " growled Dickey. 

A dapper-looking young man came from the hotel a few paces behindthem and followed, swinging his light cane leisurely. Across theplace, in the shadow of a tall building, the two Italian noblemensaw the Americans depart, noting the direction they took. It wastoward the Avenue Louise. A smile of satisfaction came to theirfaces when the dapper stranger made his appearance. A few momentslater they were speeding in a cab toward the avenue. 

"That is her house, " said Phil, later on, as the two strolled slowlydown the Avenue Louise. They were across the street from theGarrison home, and the shadowy-trees hid them. The tall lover knew, however, that the Italian was, with her and that his willfulness ofthe afternoon had availed him naught. Nor could he recall a singleatom of hope and encouragement his bold act had produced other thanthe simple fact that she had submitted as gracefully as possible tothe inevitable and had made the best of it. 

"Ugo has the center of the stage, and everybody else is in theorchestra, playing fiddles of secondary importance, while MissDorothy is the lone and only audience, " reflected Dickey. 

"I wish you'd confine your miserable speculations to the weather, Dickey, " said the other, testily. 

"With pleasure. To-morrow will be a delightful day for a drive or astroll. You and I, having nothing else to do, can take an all-daydrive into the country and get acquainted with the Belgian birds andbees--and the hares, too. "

"Don't be an ass! What sort of a game do you think those Italianswere up to this evening? I'm as nervous as the devil. It's time forthe game to come to a head, and wa may as well expect somethingsudden. "

"I think it depends on the prince. If he finds that you haven't torndown his fences while you had full sway, he'll not be obliged to goon with the game. He was merely protecting interests that absenceendangered. Now that he's here, and if all is smooth andundisturbed--or, in other words, if you have failed in yourmerciless design to put a few permanent and unhealable dents in thefair lady's heart--he will certainly discharge his cohorts and enjoyvery smooth seas for the rest of the trip. If you have disfiguredher tender heart by trying to break into it, as a safe-blower getsinto those large, steel things we call safety deposit vaults--whereother men keep things they don't care to lose--I must say that hissatanic majesty will be to pay. Do you think you have made anyperceptible dents, or do you think the safe is as strong and asimpregnable as it was when you began using chisels and dynamite onit six weeks ago?"

"I can't say that I enjoy the simile, but I'm conceited enough tothink it is not as free from dents as it was when I began. I'm notquite sure about it, but I believe with a little more time andsecurity against interference I might have--er--have--''

"Got away with the swag, as Turk would say. Well, it's this way. Ifthe prince investigates and finds that you were frightened away justin time to prevent wholesale looting, you'll have to do some expertdodging to escape the consequences of the crime. He'll have the dukeand the count and a few others do nothing but get up surpriseparties for you. "

"That's it, Dickey. That's what I'm afraid of--the surpriseparties. He's afraid of me, or he wouldn't have gone to the troubleof having me watched. They've got something brewing or they wouldn'thave been so quiet for the past two weeks. Courant is gone and--"

"How do you know Courant isn't here?"

"Turk says he has disappeared. "

"Turk doesn't know everything. That fellow may have a score ofdisguises. These French detectives are great on false whiskers anddramatic possibilities. The chances are that he has been watchingyou night and day, and I'll bet my head, if he has, he's been ableto tell Ugo more about your affair with Miss Garrison than you knowyourself, my boy. "

They turned to retrace their steps, Phil gloomily surveying the big, partially-lighted house across the way. A man met them and made roomfor them to pass on the narrow walk. He was a jaunty, well-dressedyoung fellow and the others would have observed nothing peculiarabout him had they not caught him looking intently toward the housewhich was of such interest to them. As he passed them he peeredclosely at their faces and so strange was his manner that bothinvoluntarily turned their heads to look after him. As is usuallythe case, he also turned to look at them. 

"I saw that fello\v in the hotel, " said Savage. 

Five minutes later they met Turk and, before they could utter a wordof protest, he was leading them into the Rue du Prince Royal. 

"There's a guy follerin' you, " he explained. "An' th' two swells isdrivin' aroun' in a cab like as if they wuz expectin' fun. They justpassed you on th' avenoo, an' now they's comin' back. That's theirrig--cuttin' across there. See? I tell you, they's somethin' in theair, an' it looks as though it ain't goin' to pan out as they wantedit to. "

"What's the matter with you? The duke and the count went to a dancehall, " expostulated Quentin. 

"To make a night of it, " added Savage

"Didn't you see a nice lookin' feller up there in th' avenoo, an'didn't he size you up purty close? That's him--that's Courant, th'fly cop. Git inside this doorway an' you'll see him pass yere in acouple of seconds. He's not a block behind us. "

Sure enough the dapper stranger passed by the three men in shadow, looking uneasily, nervously up and across the street. 

"He's lost th' trail, " whispered Turk, after Courant was beyondhearing. 

"The same fellow, I'll be blowed, " said Dickey, in amazement. "Now, what do you suppose the game is?"

"My idea is that w'en you turned 'em down on th' dance hall job theywas afraid you'd go to th' young lady's house and cut in on th'prince's cinch, so they had to git a move on to head you off. Youwas wise w'en you kicked out of th' dance hall racket. Th' chancesare you'd 'a' got into all kinds o' hell if you'd fell into th'trap. Say, I'm dead sure o' one er two t'ings. In th' first place, they've got four or five more ringers than we know about. I seenCourant talkin' mighty secret-like to two waiters in th' hall thisevenin", an' th' driver o' that cab o' theirn was a baggage hustlerat th' Bellyvoo as late as yesterday. "

"By thunder, I believe their game was to mix us up in a bigfree-for-all fight when they got us into that dance dive. That showsDickey, how wise I was to decline the invitation, " said Quentin, seriously. By this time they were some distance behind Turk, following in the path of the puzzled defective. They saw him lookcuriously at the lighted windows of the houses, and overtook him atthe intersection of the Boulevard Waterloo. Just as they came upfrom behind, Courant stopped for an instant's conversation with twomen. Their talk was brief and the trio turned to go back over thepath just traversed by Courant The two sets of men met fairly andwere compelled to make room for each other to pass. Courant came toa full stop involuntarily, but recovered himself and followed hisfriends quickly. 

"The plot thickens, " observed Phil. "It looks as though they arerounding up their forces after the miscarriage of the original plan. Gad, they are hunting us down like rats to-night. "

"The hotel is the safest place for us, and the quicker we get therethe better, " said Dickey. "I'm not armed, are you?"

"Of course not. I hadn't thought of such a thing, but from now onI'll carry a revolver. Those fellows didn't look especially dainty, did they?"

"I can't believe that they intend to murder you or anything likethat. They wouldn't dare do such a thing. "

"That's th' game, Mr. Savage; I'm dead sure of it. This was th'night an' it was to ha' been done in th' dance hall, riot, stampede, everybody fightin' wild an' then a jab in th' back. Nobody any th'wiser, see?" The two paled a trifle under Turk's blunt way ofputting it. 

When they entered the hotel a short time later the first man theysaw was Prince Ugo. With his dark eyes glowing, his lips parted in afine smile, he came to meet them, his hand extended heartily. 

"I have asked for you, gentlemen, and you were out. You return justas I am ready to give up in despair. And now, let me say how happy 1am to see you, " he said, warmly. The Americans shook hands with him, confusion filling their brains. Why was he not with the Garrisons?

"I knew you were here, Prince Ugo, and would have inquired for youbut that I suspected you would be closely engaged, " said Quentin, after a moment. 

"Earlier in the evening I was engaged, but I am here now as thebearer of a message to you, Mr. Quentin. Miss Garrison has asked meto deliver into your hands this missive. " With that he drew from hispocket a sealed envelope and passed it to Quentin. "I was commandedto give it you to-night, so perhaps you will read it now. "

"Thank you, " muttered the other, nervously tearing open the envelopeas the prince turned to Dickey Savage. At that moment the duke andthe count strolled into the rotunda, jauntily, easily, as if theyhad been no farther than the block just beyond, instead of racingabout in a bounding cab. They approached the group" as Phil turnedaway to read the note which had come so strangely into his hands. Dorothy wrote:

"Dear Phil: I trust you to say nothing to Prince Ugo. I mean, do notintimate that I saw him yesterday when I went to drive with you. Hewould consider it an affront. I know it is not necessary to cautionyou, but I feel safe in doing so. You will pardon me, I am sure. Myconduct, as well as yours, when we look at it calmly in anafterlight, was quite extraordinary. So fully do I trust him and sowell does he love me that I know this note comes to you inviolate. 

"D. "

Phil's brain was in a whirl. He glanced at the handsome face ofDorothy's noble lover and then at his swarthy fellow countrymen. Could they be plotters? Could he be hand-in-hand with thoseevil-looking men? He had delivered the note, and yet he so fearedits recipient that he was employing questionable means to dispose ofhim. There could be no doubt as to the genuineness of the note. Itwas from Dorothy, and the prince had borne it to him direct from herhand. 

"An invitation to dinner?" asked the prince, laughing easily. "MissGarrison is alarmingly fond of Mr. Quentin, and I begin to feel thefirst symptoms of jealousy. Pardon me, I should not speak of herhere, even in jest. " So sincere was his manner that the Americansfelt a strange respect for him. The same thought flashed through theminds of both: "He is not a blackguard, whatever else he may be. "But up again came the swift thought of Courant and his uglycompanions, and the indisputable evidence that the first named, atleast, was a paid agent of the man who stood before them, now theprince, once the singer in far away Brazil. 

"The mention of dinner recalls me to affairs of my own, " continuedUgo. "To-morrow night I expect a few friends here to dine, and Ihave the honor to ask you all to be among my guests. We shall sitdown at nine o'clock, and I only exact a promise that the end maycome within a week thereafter. "

The Americans could do naught but accept, but there was anoppressive sense of misgiving in their hearts. Mayhap the signalfailure to carry out the plans of one night was leading swiftly andresolutely up to the success of another. For more than an hourQuentin and his friend sat silently, soberly in the former's room, voicing only after long intervals the opinions and conjectures theirpuzzled minds begot, only to sink back into fresh fields forthought. 

"I can't understand it, " said Dickey, at last, starting to bed. 

"I believe I understand it perfectly. They are on a new tack. Itoccurs to me that they fear we suspect something and the dinner is asort of peace offering. "

"We may be getting into a nest of masculine Lucretia Borgias, myboy. "

"Pleasant dreams, then. Good-night!"

XIV

A DINNER AND A DUEL

At nine o'clock the next evening Quentin and Savage found themselvesin the rooms occupied by the prince, the former experiencing adistinct sense of wariness and caution. 

If Quentin suspected some form of treachery at the outset, he wassoon obliged to ridicule his fears. There were nearly a score of menthere, and a single glance revealed to him the gratifying fact thatno treachery could be practiced in such an assemblage. Among theirfellow guests there was an English lord, an Austrian duke, a Russianprince, a German baron, besides others from France, Belgium andGermany. 

Prince Ugo greeted them warmly, and they were at their ease in aninstant under the magnetism of his manner. Duke Laselli and CountDiego were more profuse in their greetings to the young men, and itdevolved upon the latter to introduce them to the distinguishedstrangers. There was but one other American there, a millionairewhose name is a household word in the states and whose money was atthat time just beginning to assert itself as a menace to the greatcommercial interests of the old world. He welcomed his fellow NewYorkers with no small show of delight. The expression of relief onhis face plainly exposed a previous fear that he was unspeakablyalone in this assemblage of continental aristocrats. 

At the table, Quentin sat between an Austrian duke and a Germannamed Von Kragg. He was but two seats removed from Prince Ugo, whileSavage was on the other side of the table, almost opposite Quentin. On Dickey's right sat the Duke Laselli, and next to that individualwas the American millionaire. Directly across the broad table fromQuentin was the tall rakish-looking Count Diego Sallaconi. 

"Ob, nobde gap sansan wobble wibble raggle dully pang rubby dub, bob, " said the baron, in his best French, addressing the statuesqueAmerican with the broad shoulders and the intense countenance. 

"With all my heart, " responded Mr. Quentin, with rare composure andequal confidence. He had no more conception of what the baronintended to say than he would have had if the planet Mars hadwigwagged a signal to him, but he was polite enough to do anythingfor the sake of conversation. The baron smiled gladly, evenapprovingly; it was plain that he understood Phil's English fully aswell as that gentleman understood his French. Quentin heard his nameuttered by Prince Ugo and turned from the baron. 

"Mr. Quentin, Prince Kapolski tells me he saw our friends, theSaxondales, in London last week. They were preparing to go to theirplace in the country. You have been there, have you not?" Prince Ugoturned his gleaming eyes and engaging smile upon the man addressed. 

"On several occasions, " responded the other. "Saxondale is a famoushunter and he gave me some rare sport. When do they leave London?"he asked, indifferently. 

''They were to have started this week, " said the Russian prince, "and there is to be quite a large party, I hear. A young Americanwho was with them was called away suddenly last week, and, as thetrip was arranged for his special amusement--by the Lady Jane, I wastold--his departure upset the plans a trifle. " Quentin and Savage, who had heard the remarks glanced at one another in surprise. 

"I should enjoy being with them, " said the former, warmly. "Myfriend, Mr. Savage, was invited, I think, " he added, and Dickeystudiously consulted the salad. He had not been invited and theannouncement that the Saxondales were off for the north of Englandwas news to him. 

"Oh, certainly, " exclaimed Ugo; "he was their guest. And the LadyJane arranged it, you say, Kapolski? Draft horses could not havebeen strong enough to pull me away from London had she planned formy pleasure. You must discover the fault in him, my dear Quentin, and hold him to account for a very reprehensible act. " Ugo knew thatDickey was listening, and the first point in a beautiful game wasscored. 

"Mr. Savage does not care for shooting, " said Phil, flushingslightly. The Russian prince had been looking at him intently; apeculiar flash came into his eye when Quentin made the defensiveremark. 

"But there is game to be had without resorting to the gun, " he said, smiling blandly. 

"One doesn't have to go to a shooting box to bag it, though, " saidSallaconi, mischievously. 

"I think the hunter uses bow and arrow exclusively, " added Ugo, andthere was a general laugh, which sent a streak of red up Dickey'scheeks. If the Russian's news was true he had been purposelyslighted by the Saxondales. And yet it was not altogetherhumiliation or wounded pride that brought the red to his cheek. Heand the Lady Jane had quarrelled just before he left her, and whilehe hated her and she hated him and all that, still he did not careto hear her name bandied about by the wine sippers at thisdelectable table. 

"What are they talking about?" asked the American millionaire ofDickey, his curiosity aroused by the laughter of a moment before. 

"About as nasty as they can, " growled Dickey. "That's their style, you know. "

"Whew! You don't have much of an opinion of nobility. Beware of theprince, " said the other, in a low tone. 

"You couldn't insult some of them with a deliberate and well-aimedkick, " remarked the younger man, sourly. The Duke Laselli's earsturned a shade pinker under his oily, swarthy skin, for the wordspenetrated them in spite of the speaker's caution. 

"A toast, " said the Russian prince, arising from his seat besideRavorelli. The guests arose and glasses almost met in a long lineabove the center of the table. Ugo alone remained seated as ifdivining that they were to drink to him. For the first time Quentinclosely observed the Russian. He was tall and of a powerful frame, middle-aged and the possessor of a strong, handsome face on whichyears of dissipation had left few weakening marks. His eyes werenarrow and as blue as the sky, his hair light and bushy, his beardcoarse and suggestive of the fierceness of the wild boar. His voicewas clear and cutting, and his French almost perfect. "We drink tothe undying happiness of our host, the luckiest prince in all theworld. May he always know the bliss of a lover and never the caresof a husband; may his wedded state be an endless love story withouta prosaic passage; may life with the new Princess of Ravorelli be apoem, a song, a jub late, with never a dirge between its morn andits midnight. "

"And a long life to him, " added Quentin, clearly. As they drank theeyes of Prince Ugo were upon the last speaker, and there was apuzzled expression in them. Count Sallaconi's black eyebrows shot upat the outer ends and a curious grimness fastened itself about hismouth and nose. 

"I thank you, gentlemen, " responded Ugo, arising. "Will you dividethe toast with me in proposing the happiness of the one who is tobring all these good things into my life?" The half-emptied glasseswere drained. Dickey Savage's eyes met Quentin's in a long look ofperplexity. At last an almost imperceptible twinkle, suggestive ofeither mirth or skepticism, manifested itself in his friend's eyesand the puzzled observer was satisfied. 

When, in the end, the diners pushed their chairs back from the tableand passed into another room, it was far past midnight, and the realrevelry of the night was at hand. Reckless, voluptuous women fromthe vaudeville houses and dance halls appeared, and for hours thewine-soaked scions of nobility reeked in those exhibitions whichshock the sensibilities of true men. Four men there were who triedto conceal their disgust while the others roared out tha applause ofdegenerates. 

"I am not a saint, but this is more than I can stand. It issickening, " said Quentin. 

"And these miserable specimens of European manhood delight in it, "said Savage, his face aflame with shame and disgust. "It is too vilefor a man who has a breath of manhood in him to encourage, and yetthese bounders go crazy with rapture. Gad, don't ask what kind ofwomen they are. Ask how it is the world has ever called thesefellows men. "

"Did I understand you correctly, sir?" asked a cold voice at hisside, and Dickey turned to look into the flaming eyes of PrinceKapolski. Count Sallaconi was clutching the left arm of the bigRussian, and there was a look of dismay in his face. He flashed aglance of fierce disappointment at Quentin, and then one ofhelplessness across the room at Prince Ugo. 

"If you understand English you probably did, " said Dickey, pale butdefiant. 

"Come, prince, " began the agitated count, but Kapolski shook himoff. 

"You must apologize for your comments, sir, " said the prince, inexcellent English. 

"I can't apologize, you know. I meant what I said, " said Dickey, drawing himself up to the limit of his five feet ten. The Russian'sopen hand came violently in contact with the young fellow's cheek, driving the tears to the surface of his eyes They were tears ofanger, pain and mortification, not of submission or fear. 

His clenched right hand shot outward and upward, and before theRussian knew what had happened a crashing blow caught him full inthe jaw, and he would have gone sprawling to the floor had not DiegoSallaconi caught him in his arms. Quentin grasped Dickey and pulledhim away, while others rushed in and held the roaring, sputteringvictim. 

All was confusion and excitement in an instant. Quentin and themillionaire drew their lithe countryman away from the gatheringcrowd, one cheek white as a sheet, the other a bright pink, and Philhoarsely whispered to him:

"I don't know what we're in for, Dickey, so for heaven's sake let'sget out of here. We don't want any more of it. You gave him a goodpunch and that's enough. "

"You broke up the show all right enough, " exclaimed the millionaire, excitedly. "The fairies ran over each other trying to get out of theroom. You're as game as a fighting cock, too. "

"Let me alone, Phil!" panted Dickey. "You don't suppose I'm going torun from that big duffer, do you? Let go!"

"Don't be a fool, Dickey, " said his friend, earnestly. Just then apale-faced, sickly-looking waiter came up from behind and hoarselywhispered in Quentin's ear:

"Get out, quick! The big prince made a mistake. He was to havequarrelled with you, Monsieur. " He was gone before he could bequestioned. 

"See!" exclaimed Dickey. "It was a job, after all, and the dago isat the bottom of it!"

"Sh! Here he comes with the Russian and the whole pack behind them. It's too late; we can't run now, " said Phil, despairingly. As Ugoand Kapolski crossed the room, the former, whose face was white withsuppressed passion, hissed under his breath into the ear of theraging Russian:

"You fool, it was the other one--the tall one! You have quarrelledwith the wrong man. The big one is Quentin, Kapolski. How could youhave made such a mistake?"

"Mistake or no mistake, he has struck me, and he shall pay for it. The other can come later, " growled the Russian, savagely. 

"Gentlemen, this is no place to fight. Let us have explanations--"began Ugo, addressing Quentin more than Savage, but the latterinterrupted:

"Call off your dogs and we will talk it over, " he said. 

"Dickey!" cautioned his friend. 

"I do not understand you, Mr. Savage. My dogs? Oh, I see, Mr. Quentin; he is mad with anger, " said the prince, deprecatingly. 

"There can be no explanations, " snarled Kapolski. "My card, Monsieur, " and he threw the pasteboard in the young American's face. 

"Damn your impudence, " exploded Quentin, now ready to take the fightoff the hands of the one on whom it had been forced through error. "You ought to be kicked downstairs for that. "

"You will have that to recall, Monsieur, but not until after I havedisposed of your valiant friend, " exclaimed Kapolski. 

"We are not in the habit of waiting for a chance to dispose of suchaffairs, " said Quentin, coolly. "We fight when we have a cause andon the spot. "

"Do you expect civilized men to carry arms into drawing-rooms?"sneered Kapolski. Ugo's face was lighting up with pleasure andsatisfaction and Sallaconi was breathing easier. 

"I'm speaking of hands, not arms, " said Phil, glaring at the other. 

"I'll fight him in a second, " cried Dickey. 

"Gentlemen, gentlemen! Be calm! Let this affair be arranged by yourseconds and in the regular manner, " expostulated Ugo. "This is veryunusual, and I must beg of you to remember that you are in myrooms. "

"That is the rub, Prince Ravorelli. It has happened in your rooms, and I want to say to you that if evil befalls my friend, I shallhold you to account for it, " said Quentin, turning on him suddenly. 

"What do you mean, sir?"

"You know what I mean. I can and am ready to fight my own battles. "

"This outrageous brawl is none of my affair, Mr. Quentin, and I donot like your threat. You and I should do all in our power toprevent it from going farther. Your friend was too free with hiswords, I am told. If he did not like my entertainment, he shouldhave left the room. "

"Well, I didn't like it, if you want to know, " said Dickey. "And Idon't care a continental who heard what I said. "

"Does he still want to fight with his hands?" demanded Kapolski, nowcool and ironical. There was an infuriating attempt on his part tospeak as if he were addressing a small, pouting child. 

"Anything--anything! The only point is, you'll have to fightto-night--right now. I've two or three friends here who'll see thatI get fair play. " said Dickey, discretion flying to the wind. 

"You shall fight and here!" exclaimed the Russian. "But you shallfight like a gentleman for once in your life. I will not claw andscratch with you, like the women do, but with any weapon you name. "

Dickey's valor did not fade, but his discretion came to the surfacewith a suddenness that took his breath away. He turned to speak toQuentin and the millionaire. Phil's face was deathly white, andthere was a pleading look in his eyes. The millionaire was tremblinglike a leaf. 

"I guess I'll take pistols, " said Dickey, slowly. "I can't hit theside of a barn, but he can't bluff me, damn him. "

"Great Scott, Dickey! Don't do it, don't do it!" whispered Quentin. "This is my fight, you know it is, and I won't let you--"

"You can't help it, old boy. He'll probably get me, but I may belucky enough to have a bullet land in him. My only chance is to aimanywhere but at him, shut my eyes, and trust to luck. " Then turningto Kapolski he said, deliberately: "Pistols, and here, if the princedoes not object. "

"Cannot this affair be postponed--" began Ugo, desperately. 

"Not unless your friend forgets that I punched his head. It is nowor never with me, " said Dickey. 

"I insist that it is my right to fight this man!" exclaimed Quentin, standing forth. "I first expressed the opinion which Mr. Savagemerely echoed and to which Prince Kapolski took exception. "

"But you did not strike me. In any event, you shall come next, Mr. Quentin; I shall take you on immediately after I have disposed ofyour cockadoodle friend, " said Kapolski, throwing aside his coat. "You have pistols here, Prince Ravorelli?"

"This is murder, " cried the millionaire, "and I shall take it beforethe United States government. "

"Dickey! Dickey!" cried Phil, helplessly, as Savage began to removehis coat. 

"I have weapons, if you insist, gentlemen, " said Ugo. At his wordsintense excitement prevailed, for now there could be no doubt as tothe result of the quarrel. Count Sallaconi hurried away for thepistols, smiling significantly as he passed his prince. His smilesaid that Kapolski would kill two men that night. 

"For God's sake, Dickey, be careful, if you must fight. Takedeliberate aim and don't lose your nerve, " cried Quentin, graspinghim by the arms. "You are as cold as ice. "

"I haven't fired a pistol more than a dozen times in my life, " saidDickey, smiling faintly. 

"Then shoot low, " said the millionaire. 

"Your second, Monsieur?" said the Austrian duke, coming to Savage'sside. 

"Mr. Quentin will act, Monsieur le Due. We may need a surgeon. "

"Dr. Gassbeck is here. "

It was hurriedly agreed that the men should stand at opposite endsof the room, nearly twenty feet apart, back to back. At the wordgiven by Prince Ugo, they were to turn and fire. 

Sallaconi came in with the pistol case and the seconds examined theweapons carefully. A moment later the room was cleared except forthe adversaries, the seconds, and Prince Ugo. 

There was the stillness of death. On the face of the Russian therewas an easy smile, for was not he a noted shot? Had he ever missedan adversary in a duel? Dickey was pale, but he did not tremble ashe took the pistol in his hand. 

"Good-bye, Phil, " was all he said. Poor Quentin turned his face awayas he clasped his hand, and he could only murmur:

"If he hits you, I'll kill him. "

A moment later the word "fire" came and the two men whirled intoposition. Dickey's arm went up like a flash, the other's morecruelly deliberate. Two loud reports followed in quick succession, the slim American's nervous finger pressed the trigger first. He hadnot taken aim. He had located his man's position before turningaway, and the whole force of his will was bent on driving the bulletdirectly toward the spot he had in mind. Kapolski's bullet struckthe wall above Dickey's head, his deadly aim spoiled by the quick, reckless shot from the other end of the room. 

He lunged forward. Dickey's bullet had blown away part of the bigRussian's chin and jaw, burying itself in the wall beyond. 

XV

APPROACH OF THE CRISIS

Prince Ugo's face was livid, and his black eyes bulged withhorrified amazement. The unscrupulous, daring, infallible duelistwhom he had induced to try conclusions with Quentin in a regular andeffective way, had been overthrown at the outset by a most peculiartransaction of fate. He had assured the Russian that Quentin was nomatch for him with the weapons common to dueling, and he had led himto believe that he was in little danger of injury, much less death. Kapolski, reckless, a despiser of all things American, eagerlyconsented to the plan, and Ugo saw a way to rid himself of adangerous rival without the taint of suspicion besmirching hiscloak. Sallaconi was an accomplished swordsman, but it would havebeen unwise to send him against Quentin. Ugo himself was a splendidshot and an expert with the blade, and it was not cowardice thatkept him from taking the affair in his own hands. It was wisdom, cunning wisdom, that urged him to stand aloof and to go up to hiswedding day with no scandal at his back. But the unexpected, themiraculous had happened. His friend, his brother prince, hisunwitting tool, had gone down like a log, his vaunted skillsurpassed by the marksmanship and courage of an accursed American. 

To his credit be it said that he did all in his power to preservethe life of Prince Kapolski. More than that, he did all that waspossible to keep the story of the encounter from reaching the world. So powerful, so successful was his influence that the world at largeknew nothing of the fight, the police were bribed, and thenewspapers were thrown completely off the scent. 

Ugo's first thought after the fall of Kapolski was to prevent hisopponent from leaving the room alive, but common sense came to hisrelief a second later, and he saw the folly of taking a standagainst the victor. He rushed to Kapolski's side and helped tosupport the moaning man's body. The surgeon was there an instantlater, and Dickey, as white as a ghost, started mechanically towardthe fallen foe. Ouentin stood like a man of stone, stunned by reliefand surprise. One glance at the bloody, lacerated face and therolling eyes caused Savage to flee as if pursued by devils. 

For hours Quentin and Turk sought to comfort and to quiet him; themillionaire, who refused to desert them, sat up all night to managethe information bureau, as he called it. He personally inquired atUgo's rooms, and always brought back reassuring news, which Quentindoubted and Dickey utterly disbelieved At four o'clock Prince Ugohimself, with Duke Laselli, came to Quentin's rooms with the wordthat Kapolski was to be taken to a hospital, and that Dr. Gassbeckpronounced his chance for recovery excellent. The prince assured Mr. Savage that secrecy would be preserved, but advised him to leaveBrussels at the earliest possible moment. Kapolski's death, if itcame, would command an investigation, and it would be better if hewere where the law could not find him. 

Quentin with difficulty restrained from openly accusing the princeof duplicity. Afterthought told him how impotent his accusationwould have been, for how could he prove that the Russian was actingas an agent?

Just before daylight Turk saw them take Prince Kapolski from thehotel in an ambulance, and, considering it his duty, promptlyfollowed in a cab. The destination of the ambulance was the sidestreet entrance to one of the big hospitals in the upper part of thetown, and the men who accompanied the prince were strangers to thelittle observer. Prince Ugo was not of the party, nor were Laselliand Sallaconi. On his return to the Bellevue he had a fresh task onhis hands. He was obliged to carry a man from Quentin's apartmentsand put him to bed in the millionaire's room, farther down the hall. The millionaire--for it was he--slept all day and had a headacheuntil the thirtieth of the month. Turk put him to bed on thetwenty-seventh. 

During the forenoon Prince Ugo and Count Sallaconi called atQuentin's rooms. They found that gentleman and Mr. Savage dressedand ready for the street. 

"Good morning, " said Dickey, pleasantly, for the two Americans haddetermined to suppress, for diplomatic reasons, any show ofhostility toward the Italians. The visitors may not have exposedtheir true feelings, but they were very much astounded and not alittle shocked to find the dcelist and his friend in the best ofspirits. 

"And how did you sleep?" asked Ugo, after he had expressed hissorrow over the little unpleasantry of the night before, deploringthe tragic ending to the night of pleasure. 

"Like a top, " lied Dickey, cheerfully. 

"I was afraid the excitement might have caused you great uneasinessand--ah--dread, " said the prince. The count was industriouslyengaged in piercing with his glittering eyes the tapestry in a farcorner of the room. Mr. Savage possessed the manner of a man whoshoots someone every morning before breakfast. 

"Not in the least; did it, Quentin?"

"He slept like a baby. "

"By the way, before I forget it, Prince Ugo, how is the gentleman Ishot last night--ah, what was his name?" asked Dickey, slapping hisleg carelessly with his walking stick

"Prince Kapolski is in the hospital, and I fear he cannot recover, "said the prince. "I came to tell you this that you may actaccordingly and with all the haste possible. "

"O, I don't know why I should run away. Everybody there will testifythat the fight was forced upon me. You will swear to that, yourself, Prince Ugo, and so will the count. I had to fight, you know. "

"It seems to me, Mr. Savage, that you were rather eager to fight. Icannot vouch for your safety if the prince dies, " said Ugo, coolly. 

"But he isn't going to die. I did not shoot to kill and the ball hithim just where I intended it should--on the chin. He'll be well in acouple of weeks. True, he may not feel like eating tough beefsteakwith that jaw for some time, but I knew a fellow once who was ableto eat very comfortably after six weeks. That was as good a shot asI ever made, Phil, " said Dickey, reflectively. 

"I think Buckner's nose was a cleaner shot. It wasn't nearly sodisgusting, " said Phil. 

"Do you mean to say you are able to hit a man just where youplease?" demanded the count. 

"Provided he does not hit me first, " said Mr. Savage. "Gentlemen, let me order up a quiet little drink. I am afraid the unfortunateaffair of last night has twisted your nerves a bit. It was ratherghastly, wasn't it?"

When the four parted company in front of the hotel, a quarter of anhour later, the two Italians sat down to reflect. They wonderedwhether Mr. Savage usually carried a pistol in his pocket, and theyagreed that if he did have one of his own he would be much moreaccurate with it than with a strange one, such as he had used thenight before. The two Americans were not jubilant as they strolledup the street. They had put on a very bold front but they weresaying to themselves that Kapolski's death would be a verydisastrous calamity. Cold perspiration stood on Dickey's brow and hedevoutly prayed that his victim would recover. 

"I'd feel like a butcher to the last day of my life, " he groaned. 

"The big brute got what he deserved, Dickey, but that isn't going torelieve us if he should die. Prince Ugo would use it as an excuse todrive you out of Europe and, of course, I would not desert you. Itwas my affair and you were unlucky enough to get into it. There isone thing that puzzles me. I directly insulted Ravorelli last night. Why does he not challenge me? He must be positive that I recognizehim as Pavesi and can ruin him with a word. I am told he is aremarkable shot and swordsman, and I don't believe he is a coward. "

"Why should he risk his head or his heart if he can induce other mento fight for him?"

"But it seems that he has traitors in his camp. I wonder who thatwaiter was?"

After a long silence Dickey dolefully asked: "Say, do you believethe Saxondales turned me down on that shooting box party?"

"I can't believe it. All is well between you and Lady Jane, ofcourse?"

"As well as it can ever be, " said the other, looking straight ahead, his jaws set. 

"Oho! Is it all off?"

"Is what all off?" belligerently. 

"O, if you don't know, I won't insist on an answer. I merelysuspected a thickness. "

"That we were getting thick, you mean? You were never more mistakenin your life. The chances are I'll never see her again. That's notvery thick, is it?"

"I saw a letter just now for you, in my box at the hotel. Lookedlike a young woman's chirography, and it was from London--"

"Why the devil didn't you tell me it was there?" exploded Dickey. 

"Does Lady Jane make an R that looks like a streak of lightning withall sorts of angles?"

"She makes a very fashionable--what do you mean by inspecting mymail? Are you establishing a censorship?" Dickey was guilty of anunheard of act--for him. He was blushing. 

"My boy, I did not know it was your property until after I hadcarefully deciphered every letter in the name. I agree with you; shewrites a very fashionable alphabet. The envelope looked thick, tosay the least. It must contain a huge postscript. "

"Or a collection of all the notes I have written to her. I'll goback, if you don't mind, however. I'm curious to know who it'sfrom. "

Dickey went back to read his voluminous letter, and Quentin seatedhimself on a bench in the park. A voice from behind brought himsharply from a long reverie. 

"Mr. Quentin, last night, possibly in the heat of excitement, youinferred that I was in some way accountable for the controversywhich led to the meeting between Prince Kapolski and your friend. Itrust that I misunderstood you. "

Quentin was on his feet and facing Prince Ravorelli before theremark was fairly begun, and he was thinking with greater rapiditythan he had ever thought before. He was surprised to find Ugo, suaveand polite as ever, deliberately, coolly rushing affairs to aclimax. His sudden decision to abandon the friendly spirit exhibitedbut half an hour before was as inexplicable as it was critical. Whatfresh inspiration had caused him to alter his position?

"We say many things when we are under stress of excitement, " saidPhil, sparring for time and his wits. Count Sallaconi was standingdeferentially beside the prince. Both gentlemen had their hats intheir hands, and the air was pregnant with chill formality. 

"Can you recall my words, Prince Ravorelli?"

"You said that you would hold him to account if your friend--" beganthe count, but Quentin turned upon him coolly. 

"My quarrel, if there is one, is with the prince, Count Sallaconi. Will you kindly allow him to jog his own memory?"

"I do not like your tone, Mr. Quentin, " said the count, his eyesflashingly angrily. Phil's blood was up. He saw it was useless totemporize, and there was no necessity for disguising his truefeelings. They had come to the point where all that had lainsmothered and dormant was to be pricked into activity; the mask wasto be thrown down with the gauntlet. 

"So much the better; you are not in doubt as to what I meant. Now, Prince Ravorelli, may I ask you to speak plainly?"

"Your remark of last night was one that I believe I would bejustified in resenting, " said the prince, flicking the ash from hiscigarette, but not taking his burning eyes from Quentin's face. There was not a tinge of cowardice in his eyes. 

"It is your privilege, sir, and I meant precisely what I said. "

"Then I have to demand of you an apology and a satisfctoryexplanation. "

"'I presume it would be travesty on politeness if I were to ask youto be seated, so we may stand up to each other and talk it over. Inthe first place, I have no apology to make. In the second place, Icannot give an explanation that would be satisfactory to you. Lastnight I said I would hold you to account if Mr. Savage was hurt. Hewas not hurt, so I will not carry out my threat, if you choose tocall it such. "

"You enlarge the insult, Mr. Quentin, " said Ugo, with a deadly tonein his voice. 

"You may as well know, Prince Ravorelli, that I have long beenacquainted with the fact that you bear me no good will. Frankly, youregard me as a man dangerous to your most cherished aspirations, andyou know that I heard Giovanni Pavesi sing in days gone by. You havenot been manly enough to meet me fairly, up to this instant. I amperfectly well aware that Prince Kapolski was your guest last nightfor no other purpose than to bring about an affray in which I was tohave been the victim of his prowess and your cleverness. "

For a moment the two men glared at each other, immovably, unwaveringly. Prince Ugo's composure did not suffer the faintestrelaxation under the direct charge of the American. 

"My only reply to that assertion is that you lie, " he said, slowly. 

"This is a public place, Prince Ugo. I will not knock you downhere. "

"It is not necessary for me to give you my card. Count Sallaconiwill arrange the details with any friend you may name. You shallgive me satisfaction for the aspersion you have cast upon my honor. "He was turning away when Quentin stepped quickly in front of him. 

"If you mean that you expect me to fight a duel with you, I must sayyou are to suffer disappointment. I do not believe in duelling, andI believe only in killing a man when there is no other alternative. To deliberately set about to shoot another man down is not ourmethod of settling an issue. We either murder in cold blood or wefight it out like men, not like stage heroes. "

"I will add then, sir, that you are a coward. "

"I have been brave enough to refrain from hiring men to do myfighting. We will fight, Prince Ravorelli, but we will not fightwith weapons made by man. You call me a coward and I call you ascoundrel. We have hands and arms and with them we shall fight. "

"Count Sallaconi is my second, I do not care to hear another word--"

"If Count Sallaconi comes to me with any ridiculous challenge fromyou, I'll knock him down and kick him across the street. My friendshot the face off of your poor tool last night. I do not care torepeat the tragedy. I shall not strike you here and now, because theact might mean my arrest and detention on no one knows what sort ofa trumped-up charge. You need not bother me with any silly twaddleabout swords and pistols I shall pay no attention to it. OrdinarilyAmericans do not delay actual combat. We usually fight it out on thespot and the best man wins. I will, however, give you the chance todeliberate over my proposition to settle our differences with ourhands. "

Ravorelli calmly heard him to the end. Then he turned and strodeaway, smiling derisively. 

"You are the only American coward I have ever seen. I trust youappreciate, the distinction, " he said, his white teeth showing inmalicious ridicule. "Your friend, the hero of last night, should beproud of you. "

Quentin watched them until they were lost in the crowd near thePalace, his brain full of many emotions. As he walked into the hotelhis only thought was of Dorothy and the effect the quarrel wouldhave on their friendship. 

"Which will she choose?" he mused, after narrating to Savage theepisode of the park. For the first time Dickey noticed the pallor inhis face, the despair in his eyes, the wistful lines about his lips. 

"There's only one way to find out, old man, " said he, and he did notsucceed in disguising the hopelessness in his voice. 

"Yes, I guess I'm up to the last trench. I'm right where I have tomake the final stand, let the result be what it may, " said theother, dejectedly. 

"Don't give up, Phil. If you are to win, it will take more couragethan you are showing now. A bold front will do more than anythingelse just at this stage. The result depends not entirely on howeager she is to become a princess, but how much she cares for theman who cannot make her a princess. "

"There's the rub. Does she care enough for me?"

"Have you asked her how much she cares?"

"No. "

"Then, don't ask. Merely go and tell her that you know how much shecares. Go this afternoon, old man. O, by the way, Lady Jane sendsher love to you, and wants to know if you will come with me toOstend to-morrow to meet her and Lady Saxondale. "

XVI

THE COURAGE OF A COWARD

"Tell Mr. Quentin I cannot see him, " was Miss Garrison's responsewhen his card was sent to her late that afternoon. The man whowaited nervously in the hall was stunned by this brief, summarydismissal. If he was hurt, bewildered by the stinging rebuff, hiswounds would have been healed instantly had he seen the sender ofthat cruel message. She sat, weak, pale and distressed, before herescritoire, striving to put her mind and her heart to the note shewas writing to him whose card, by strange coincidence, had just comeup. An hour ago he was in her thoughts so differently and he was inher heart, how deeply she had not realized, until there came thecrash which shattered the ideal. He was a coward!

Prince Ugo had been out of her presence not more than ten minutes, leaving her stunned, horrified, crushed by the story he laughinglytold, when Quentin was announced. What she heard from Ugooverwhelmed her. She had worshiped, unknown to herself, the verything in Philip Quentin that had been destroyed almost before hereyes--his manliness, his courage, his strength. Ugo deliberatelytold of the duel in his rooms, of Savage's heroism in taking up thebattles of his timorous friend, of his own challenge in the morning, and of Quentin's abject, cringing refusal to fight. How deliciouslyhe painted the portrait of the coward without exposing his truemotive in doing so, can only be appreciated when it is said thatDorothy Garrison came to despise the object of his ridicule. 

She forgot his encounter with the porch visitor a fortnightprevious; she forgot that the wound inflicted on that occasion wasscarcely healed; she forgot all but his disgraceful behavior in thepresence of that company of nobles and his cowardice when called toaccount by one brave man. And he an American, a man from her ownland, from the side of the world on which, she had boasted, therelived none but the valorous. This man was the one to whom, a weekago, she had personally addressed an invitation to the wedding inSt. Gudule--the envelope was doubtless in his pocket now, perhapsabove his heart--and the writing of his name at that time hadbrought to her the deadly, sinking realization that he was more toher than she had thought. 

"Tell Miss Garrison that, if it is at all possible, I must see herat once, " said Quentin to the bearer of the message. He was coldwith apprehension, hot with humiliation. 

"Miss Garrison cannot see you, " said the man, returning from hissecond visit to the room above. Even the servant spoke with acurtness that could not be mistaken. It meant dismissal, cold anddecisive, with no explanation, no excuse. 

He left the house with his ears burning, his; nerves tingling, hisbrain whirling. What had caused this astonishing change? Why had sheturned against him so suddenly, so strangely? Prince Ugo! The truthflashed into his mind with startling force, dispelling alluncertainty, all doubt. Her lover had forstalled him, had requestedor demanded his banishment and she had acquiesced, with aheartlessness that was beyond belief. He had been mistaken as to theextent of her regard for him; he had misjudged the progress of hiswooing; he awoke to the truth that her heart was impregnable andthat he had not so much as approached the citadel of her love. 

Dickey was pacing their rooms excitedly when Quentin entered. Turkstared gloomily from the open window, and there was a sort ofsavageness in his silent, sturdy back that bespoke volumes ofrestraint. 

"Good Lord, Phil, everybody knows you have refused to fight theprince. The newspaper men have been here and they have tried to pumpme dry. Turk says one of the men downstairs is telling everybodythat you are afraid of Ravorelli. What are we going to do?" Hestopped before the newcomer and there was reproach in his manner. Quentin dejectedly threw himself into a chair and stared at thefloor in silence. 

"Turk!" he called at last. "I want you to carry a note to MissGarrison, and I want you to make sure that she reads it. I don'tknow how the devil you are to do it, but you must. Don't bother me, Dickey. I don't care a continental what the fellow downstairs says;I've got something else to think about. " He threw open the lid toone of his trunks and ruthlessly grabbed up some stationery. In aminute he was at the table, writing. 

"Is Kapolski dead?" asked Dickey. 

"I don't know and don't care. I'll explain in a minute. Sit downsomewhere and don't stare, Dickey--for the Lord's sake, don't starelike a scared baby. " He completed the feverishly written note, sealed the envelope, and thrust it into Turk's hands. "Now, get thatnote to her, or don't come back to me. Be quick about it, too. "

Turk was off, full of fresh wonder and the importance of hismission. Quentin took a few turns up and down the room before heremembered that he owed some sort of an explanation to hiscompanion. 

"She wouldn't see me, " he said, briefly. 

"What's the matter? Sick?"

"No explanation. Just wouldn't see me, that's all. "

"Which means it's all off, eh? The prince got there first and spikedyour guns. Well? What have you written to her?"

"That I am going to see her to-night if I have to break into thehouse. "

"Bravely done! Good! And you'll awake in a dungeon cell to-morrowmorning, clubbed to a pulp by the police. You may break into thehouse, but it will be just your luck to be unable to break out ofjail in time for the wedding on the 16th. What you need is aguardian. "

"I'm in no humor for joking, Dickey. "

"It won't be a joke, my boy. Now, tell me just what you wrote toher. Gad, I never knew what trouble meant until I struck Brussels. The hot water here is scalding me to a creamy consistency. "

"I simply said that she had no right to treat me as she did to-dayand that she shall listen to me. I ended the note by saying I wouldcome to her to-night, and that I would not be driven away until Ihad seen her, "

"You can't see her if she refuses to receive you. "

"But she will see me. She's fair enough to give me a chance. "

"Do you want me to accompany you?8'

"I intend to go alone. "

"You will find Ugo there, you know. It is bound to be rather trying, Phil. Besides, you are not sure that Turk can deliver the note. "

"I'd like to have Ravorelli hear everything I have to say to her, and if he's there he'll hear a few things he will not relish. "

"And he'll laugh at you, too. "

An hour later Turk returned. He was grinning broadly as he enteredthe room. 

"Did you succeed?" demanded Quentin, leaping to his feet. For answerthe little man daintily, gingerly dropped a small envelope into hishand. 

"She says to give th' note to you an' to nobody else, " he said, triumphantly. Quentin hesitated an instant before tearing open theenvelope, the contents of which meant so much to him. As he read, the gloom lifted from his face and his figure straightened to itsfull height. The old light came back to his eyes. 

"She says I may come, Dickey. I knew she would, " he exclaimed, joyously. 

"When?"

"At nine to-night. "

"Is that all she says?"

"Well--er--no. She says she will see me for the last time. "

"Not very comforting, I should say. "

"I'll risk it's being the last time. I tell you, Savage, I'mdesperate. This damnable game has gone far enough. She'll know thetruth about the man she's going to marry. If she wants to marry himafter what I tell her, I'll--I'll--well, I'll give it up, that'sall. "

"If she believes what you tell her, she won't care to marry him. "

"She knows I'm not a liar, Dickey, confound you. "

"Possibly; but she is hardly fool enough to break with the princeunless you produce something more substantial than your ownaccusation. Where is your proof?"

This led to an argument that lasted until the time came for him togo to her home When he left the hotel in a cab he was thoroughlyunstrung, but more determined than ever. As if by magic, there cameto life the forces of the prince. While Ugo sat calmly in hisapartment, his patient agents were dogging the man he feared, dogging him with the persistence and glee of blood-hounds. Courantand his hirelings, two of them, garbed as city watchmen, were on theAvenue Louise almost as soon as the man they were watching. Byvirtue of fate and the obstinacy of one Dickey Savage, two ofQuentin's supporters, in direct disobedience of his commands, werewhirling toward the spot on which so many minds were centered. Froma distance Savage and Turk saw him rush from the carriage and up thebroad stone steps that led to the darkened veranda. From otherpoints of view, Jules Courant and his men saw the same and theformer knew that Turk's visit in the afternoon had resulted in thegranting of an interview. No sooner had Quentin entered the housethan a man was despatched swiftly to inform Prince Ugo that he hadnot been denied. 

Mrs. Garrison met him in the hall alone. There was defiance in hermanner, but he had not come thus far to be repulsed by such a trifleas her opposition. With rare cordiality he advanced and extended hishand. 

"Good evening, Mrs. Garrison. I hardly expected to find you andDorothy quite alone at this time of night. " She gave him her handinvoluntarily. He had a way about him and she forgot her resolveunder its influence. There was no smile on her cold face, however. 

"We are usually engaged at this hour, Mr. Quentin, but to-night weare at home to no one but you, " she said, meaningly. 

"It's very good of you. Perhaps I would better begin by ending yoursuspense. Dorothy refused to see me to-day and I suspect the cause. I am here for an explanation from her because I think it is due me. I came also to tell you that I love her and to ask her if she lovesme. If she does not, I have but to retire, first apologizing forwhat you may call reprehensibility on my part in presuming toaddress her on such a matter when I know she is the promised wife ofanother. If she loves me, I shall have the honor to ask you for herhand, and to ask her to terminate an engagement with a man she doesnot love. I trust my mission here to-night is fully understood. "

"It is very plain to me, Mr. Quentin, and I may be equally frankwith you. It is useless. "

"You will of course permit me to hear that from the one who has theright to decide, " he said. 

"My daughter consented to receive you only because I advised her todo so. I will not speak now of your unusual and unwarranted behaviorduring the past month, nor will I undertake to say how muchannoyance and displeasure you have caused. She is the affianced wifeof Prince Ravorelli and she marries him because she loves him. Ihave given you her decision. " For a moment their eyes met like theclashing of swords. 

"Has she commissioned you to say this to me?" he asked, his eyespenetrating like a knife. 

"I am her mother, not her agent. "

"Then I shall respectfully insist that she speak for herself. " If alook could kill a man, hers would have been guilty of murder. 

"She is coming now, Mr. Quentin. You have but a moment of doubtleft. She despises you. " For the first time his composure wavered, and his lips parted, as if to exclaim against such an assumption. But Dorothy was already at the foot of the stairs, pale, cold andunfriendly. She was the personification of a tragedy queen as shepaused at the foot of the stairs, her nand on the newell post, thelights from above shining directly into a face so disdainful that hecould hardly believe it was hers. There was no warmth in her voicewhen she spoke to him, who stood immovable, speechless, before her. 

"What have you to say to me, Phil?"

"I have first to ask if you despise me, " he found voice to say. 

"I decline to answer that question. ''

"Your mother has said so. "

"She should not have done so. "

"Then she has misrepresented you?" he cried, taking several stepstoward her. 

"I did not say that she had. "

"Dorothy, what do you mean by this? What right have you to--" hebegan, fiercely. 

"Mr. Quentin!" exclaimed Mrs. Garrison, haughtily. 

"Well, " cried he, at bay and doggedly, "I must know the truth. Willyou come to the veranda with me, Dorothy?"

"No, " she replied, without a quaver. 

"I must talk with you alone. What I have to say is of the gravestimportance. It is for your welfare, and I shall leave my ownfeelings out of it, if you like. But I must and will say what I camehere to say. "

"There is nothing that I care to hear from you. "

"By all that's holy, you shall hear it, and alone, too, " heexclaimed so commandingly that both women started. He caught a quickflutter in Dorothy's eyes and saw the impulse that moved her lipsalmost to the point of parting. "I demand--yes, demand--to be heardCome! Dorothy, for God's sake, come!"

He was at her side and, before she could prevent it, had grasped herhand in his own. All resistance was swept away like chaff before thewhirlwind. The elder woman so far forgot her cold reserve as toblink her austere eyes, while Dorothy caught her breath, lookedstartled and suffered herself to be led to the door without a wordof protest. There he paused and turned to Mrs. Garrison, whosethunderstruck countenance was afterward the subject of more or lessamusement to him, and, if the truth were known, to her daughter. 

"When I have said all that I have to say to her, Mrs. Garrison, I'llbring her back to you. "

Neither he nor Dorothy uttered a word until they stood before eachother in the dark palm-surrounded nook where, on one memorablenight, he had felt the first savage blow of the enemy. 

"Dorothy, there can no longer be any dissembling. I love you. Youhave doubtless known it for weeks and weeks. It will avail younothing to deny that you love me. I have seen--" he was charging, hastily, feverishly. 

"I do deny it. How dare you make such an assertion?" she cried, hotly. 

"I said it would avail you nothing to deny it, but I expected thedenial. You have not forgotten those dear days when we were boy andgirl. We both thought they had gone from us forever, but we weremistaken To-day I love you as a man loves, only as a man can lovewho has but one woman in his world. Sit here beside me, Dorothy. "

"I will not!" she exclaimed, trembling in every fiber, but hegently, firmly took her arm and drew her to the wicker bench. "Ihate you, Philip Quentin!" she half sobbed, the powerlessness toresist infuriating her beyond expression. 

"Forget that I was rough or harsh, dear. Sit still, " he cried, as atthe word of endearment she attempted to rise. 

"You forget yourself! You forget--" was all she could say. 

"Why did you refuse to see me this afternoon?" he asked, heedlessly. 

"Because I believed you to be what I now know you are, " she said, turning on him. Quickly, a look of scorn in her eyes. 

"Your adorer?" he half-whispered. 

"A coward!" she said, slowly, distinctly. 

"Coward?'' he gasped, unwilling to believe his ears. "What--I know Imay deserve the word now, but--but this afternoon? What do youmean?"

"Your memory is very short. "

"Don't speak in riddles, Dorothy, " he cried. 

"You know how I loathe a coward, and I thought you were a brave man. When I heard--when I was told--O, it does not seem possible that youcould be so craven. "

"Tell me what you have heard, " he said, calmly, divining the truth. 

"Why did you let Dickey Savage fight for you last night? Where wasyour manhood? Why did you slink away from Prince Ravorelli thismorning?" she said, intensely. 

"Who has told you all this?" he demanded. 

"No matter who has told me. You did play the part of a coward. Whatelse can you call it?"

"I did not have the chance to fight last night; your informant'splans went wrong Dickey was my unintentional substitute. As forRavorelli's challenge this morning, I did not refuse to meet him. "

"That is untrue!"

"I declined to fight the duel with him, but I said I would fight aswe do at home, with my hands. Would you have me meet him with deadlyweapons?"

"I only know that you refused to do so, and that Brussels calls youa coward. "

"You would have had me accept his challenge? Answer!"

"You lost every vestige of my respect by refusing to do so. "

"Then you wanted me to meet and to kill him, " he said, accusingly. 

"I--I--Oh, it would not have meant that, " she gasped. 

"Did you want him to kill me?" he went on, relentlessly. 

"They would have prevented the duel! It could not have gone so faras that, "' she said, trembling and terrified. 

"You know better than that, Dorothy. I would have killed him had wemet. Do you understand? I would have killed the man you expect tomarry. Have you thought of that?" She sank back in the seat andlooked at him dumbly, horror in her face. "That is one reason why Ilaughed at his ridiculous challenge. How could I hope to claim thelove of the woman whose affianced husband I had slain? I can win youwith him alive, but I would have built an insurmountable barrierbetween us had he died by my hand. Could you have gone to the altarwith him if he had killed me?"

"O, Phil, " she whispered. 

"Another reason why I refused to accept his challenge was that Icould not fight a cur. "

"Phil Quentin!" she cried, indignantly, "I came here to tell you the truth about the man you have promisedto marry. You shall hear me to the end, too. He is as black acoward, as mean a scoundrel as ever came into the world. "

Despite her protests, despite her angry denials, he told her thestory of Ugo's plotting, from the hour when he received themysterious warning to the moment when he entered her home thatevening. As he proceeded hotly to paint the prince in colors uglyand revolting she grew calmer, colder. At the end she met hisflaming gaze steadily. 

"Do you expect me to believe this?" she asked. 

"I mean that you shall, " he said, imperatively. "It is the truth. '

"If you have finished this vile story you may go. I cannot forgivemyself for listening to you. How contemptible you are, " she said, arising and facing him with blazing eyes. He came to his feet andmet the look of scorn with one which sent conviction to her soul. 

"I have told you the truth, Dorothy, " he said simply. The light inher eyes changed perceptibly. "You know I am not a liar, and youknow I am not a coward. Every drop of blood in my veins sings outits love for you. Rather than see you marry this man I would killhim, as you advise, even though it cost me my happiness. You haveheard me out, and you know in your heart that I have told thetruth. "

"I cannot, I will not believe it! He is the noblest of men, and heloves me. You do not know how he loves me. I will not believe you, "she murmured, and he knew his story had found a home. She sank tothe seat again and put her hand to her throat, as if choking. Hereyes were upon the strong face above her, and her heart raced backto the hour not far gone when it whispered to itself that she lovedthe sweetheart of other days. 

"Dorothy, do you love me?" he whispered, dropping to her side, taking her hand in his. "Have you not loved me all these days andnights?"

"You must not ask--you must not ask, " she whispered. 

"But I do ask. You love me?"

"No!" she cried, recovering herself with a mighty effort. "Listen! Idid love you--yes, I loved you--until to-day. You filled me withyour old self, you conquered and I was grieving myself to madnessover it all. But, I do not love you now! You must go! I do notbelieve what you have said of him and I despise you! Go!"

"Dorothy!" he cried, as she sped past him. "Think what you aresaying!"

"Good-by! Go! I hate you!" she cried, and was gone. For a moment hestood as if turned to stone. Then there came a rush of glad life tohis heart and he could have shouted in his jubilance. 

"God, she loves me! I was not too late! She shall be mine!" Hedashed into the house, but the closing of a door upstairs told himshe was beyond his reach. The hall was empty; Mrs. Garrison wasnowhere to be seen. Filled with the new fire, the new courage, heclutched his hat from the chair on which he had thrown it and rushedforth into the night. 

At the top of the steps he met Prince Ugo. The two men stoppedstockstill, within a yard of each other, and neither spoke for thelongest of minutes. 

"You call rather late, prince, " said Phil, a double meaning in hiswords. 

"Dog!" hissed the prince. 

"Permit me to inform you that Miss Garrison has retired. It willsave you the trouble of ringing. Good-night. "

He bowed, laughed sarcastically, and was off down the steps. Ravorelli's hand stole to an inside pocket and a moment later thelight from the window flashed on a shining thing in his fingers. Hedid not shoot, but Quentin never knew how near he was to death atthe hand of the silent statue that stood there and watched him untilhe was lost in the shadows. Then the prince put his hand suddenly tohis eyes, moaned as if in pain, and slowly descended the steps. 

XVII

A FEW MEN AND A WOMAN

A stealthy figure joined his highness at the foot of the steps, coming from the darkness below the veranda. It was Courant. What hesaid to the prince when they were safely away from the house causedthe Italian's face to pale and his hands to twitch with rage. TheFrench detective had heard and understood the conversation of theman and woman on the porch, and he had formed conclusions that droveall doubt from the mind of the noble lover. 

Quentin looked up and down the street for his cab. It was not insight, but he remembered telling the man to drive to the cornerbelow. The rainstorm that had been threatening dry and dustyBrussels all day was beginning to show itself in marked form. Therewere distant rumbles of thunder and faint flashes of lightning, andnow and then the wind, its velocity increasing every minute, dasheda splattering raindrop in one s face. The storm for which the cityhad been crying was hurling itself along from the sea, and its fullfury was almost ready to break. The few pedestrians were scurryinghomeward, the tram cars were loaded and many cabs whirled by in theeffort to land their fares at home before the rain fell in torrents. Phil drank in the cool, refreshing breeze and cared not if it raineduntil the streets were flooded. At the corner stood a cab, thedriver softly swearing to himself. He swung down and savagely jerkedopen the door. 

"Back to the Bellevue, " said the fare airily, as he climbed into thevehicle. The cab had started off into a cross-street, when Philimagined he heard a shout in the distance. He looked forth but couldsee no one in the rushing darkness, The rattle of the cab, thegrowing roar of the night and toe swish of the rain, which was nowfalling quite heavily, drowned all other sounds and he leaned backcontentedly. 

Suddenly the cab came to a stop, loud voices were heard outside andhe was about to throw open the door when a heavy body was flungagainst the side of the vehicle. The next instant the half-loweredglass in the door was shattered and a voice from the rainy nightcried:

"Don't resist or you will be shot to pieces. "

"What the dev--" gasped Quentin, barely able to distinguish the formof a man at the door. Some strange influence told him that the pointof a revolver was almost touching his breast and the word died inhis mouth. 

"No outcry, Monsieur. Your valuables without a struggle. Be quick!There are many of us. You have no chance, " came the hard voice, ingood English. 

"But I have no valuables--"

"Your diamond ring and your watch, at least, monsieur. The ring isin your vest pocket. "

"Search me, you scoundrel! I have no ring, and my watch is in myroom. I'm mighty slim picking for such noted gentlemen as you. Ipresume I have the honor of meeting the diamond collectors the townis talking so much about. " He was now aware of the presence ofanother man in the opposite window, and there was the same uncannyfeeling that a second revolver was levelled at his person. 

"Step outside, Monsieur. It is cruel to force you into the rain, butwe assure you it is very refreshing. It will make you grow. Whateveryou choose to call us we are wet to the skin. This must not, therefore, be a fruitless job. Step forth, quickly, and do notresist. "

Quentin hesitated for an instant, and then seeing resistance wasuseless, boldly set foot upon the curbing. A flash of lightningrevealed four or five men in the group. One of them had the drivercovered with a pistol, and two of them were ready to seize thepassenger. He observed, with amazement, that one of the men was apoliceman in full uniform. 

"Officer!" he exclaimed. "Don't you see what they are doing?"

"O, Monsieur, " said the spokesman, pleasantly, "you may tell thepolice of Brussels that they cannot hunt us down until they huntthemselves down. What's that? A carriage? Quick! Your watch, yourring!"

Far down the street could be seen the lamps of an approaching cab, and Quentin's heart took a bound. He had not feared injury, for hewas willing to submit to the searching without resistance, but nowhe thrilled with the excitement of possible conflict. A second flashin the sky revealed altered conditions in the setting of the tragicscene. The driver was on his box and the policeman was climbing upbeside him. A short man, masked to the chin, had pushed aside theman with the revolver and a harsh voice cried as the darkness shutout the vivid picture:

"Short work of him! The knife!" "The club, Carl! Hell! Into the cabwith him!" shouted another voice, and Phil began to strike out withhis fists. But the attack was too sharp, the odds too great. Something crashed down upon his head, he felt himself lunge backwardinto the open cab door, and then a heavy body hurled itself upon hishalf-prostrate form. Another stinging blow caught him over the ear, and, as he lost consciousness, a tremendous force seemed to becrushing the breath from his body. 

A revolver cracked, but he did not hear it, nor did he know thatfriends were at hand. Before the miscreants could hurl his body intothe cab a vehicle whirled up, the feeble glare from its lanternsthrowing light upon the scene. The man who had fired from the doorof the second cab leaped to the ground, followed by a companion, andin a moment they were among the scuffling robbers. Whatever mighthave been the original intentions of Quentin's assailants, they werenot prepared to offer battle. Their aim was to escape, not to fight. A couple of shots were fired, a rush of feet ensued and the earthseemed to swallow all but the two newcomers and the limp figure thatlay half inside the cab. 

In an instant Quentin was drawn from the cab by the taller of thetwo, the smaller having made a short dash in pursuit of the bandits. Blood rushed from the head of the unconscious man and he was a deadweight in the arms of his rescuer. 

"Good God, Phil! Have they killed you? Here, Turk! Never mind thosefellows! Come here, quick; we must get him to a surgeon. I'm afraidthey've fixed him. Into our cab with him! Gad, he's like a rag!" Itwas Dickey Savage, and he was filled with dread. Turk, explodingwith impotent rage, and shivering with fear that his master wasdead, came to his assistance and they were soon racing for theBellevue. A pair of wondering, patient, driverless horses watchedthe departure, but they did not move from the spot where they hadbeen checked by the first attack. Across the doubletree behind themhung the limp form of their driver, a great, gaping wound in hishead. He had driven them for the last time, and they seemed to knowthat his cold lips could never again command them to "go on. " Drivenalmost to the hilt, in the floor of the cab, was an ugly knife. Itspoint had been intended for Quentin's throat, but the hand thatstruck the blow was not as true as the will of its owner. 

In a high state of alarm and excitement the two men in the cab tooktheir friend to his room, their advent creating great commotion inthe hotel The wildest curiosity prevailed, and they were besiegedwith questions from hotel men, guests and the crowd that had foundshelter from the storm. Within ten minutes the news was spreadingforth over the city that a wealthy American had been held up andmurdered by the daring diamond thieves. Police and reporters hurriedto the hotel, and the uproar was intense. The house surgeon was soonat work with the bloody, unconscious victim; Savage and Turk, withtheir friend, the millionaire, keeping the crowd away from thecouch. It was impossible to drive the people from the room until thepolice arrived. 

There were two ugly gashes in Quentin's head, one of which, it wasfeared at first, would disclose a fracture of the skull. Dr. Gassbeck, the surgeon who had attended a wounded prince in the samehotel less that twenty-four hours before, gave out as his opinionthat Quentin's injuries were not dangerous unless unexpectedcomplications appeared. Several stitches were taken in each cut, andthe patient, slowly recovering from the effects of the blows and theanesthetics, was put to bed by his friends. 

Savage observed one thing when he entered the hotel with the woundedman. Prince Ugo and Count Sallaconi were among the first to comeforward when the news of the attack spread through the office andcorridors. The prince, in fact, was conversing with some gentlemennear the doors when the party entered. It was he who sent messengersto the central police office and who told the detectives where andhow he had last seen the victim of the diamond thieves. 

Dickey sat all night beside his rolling, moaning friend, unnerved, almost despairing, but the morning brought the change that gladdenedhis heart and gave him a chance to forget his fears andapprehensions long enough to indulge in an impressive, thoughinadequate, degree of profanity, with continued reference to acertain set of men whom the world called thieves, but whom hedesignated as dogs. 

About ten o'clock a telegram from Ostend came to the hotel for him. It read: "Are you not coming to Ostend for us? Jane. " An hour latera very pretty young lady in Ostend tore a telegram to pieces, sniffed angrily and vowed she would never speak to a certain youngman again. His reply to her rather peremptory query by wire washardly calculated to restore the good humor she had lost in notfinding him at the dock. "Cannot come. Awfully sorry. Can't leaveBrussels. Hurry on. Will explain here. Richard Savage. " Hersister-in-law and fellow-traveler from London was mean enough totease her with sly references to the beauty of Brussels women andthe fickleness of all mankind. And so there was stored away for Mr. Savage's benefit a very cruel surprise. 

The morning newspapers carried the story of Quentin's adventure tothe Garrison home, and Dorothy's face, almost haggard as the resultof a sleepless night, grew whiter still, and her tired eyes filledwith dread. She did not have to recall their conversation of thenight before, for it had not left her mind, but her thoughts wentback to a former conversation in which he had ridiculed the bandits. The newspaper fell from her nerveless fingers, and she left thetable, her breakfast untouched, stealing miserably to her room, toescape her mother's inquisitive eyes. 

Her wretched state was not improved by the visit of a veiled youngwoman later in the day. The visitor was undoubtedly a lady, but thestory she poured into the unwilling ears was so astounding thatDorothy dismissed her indignantly before it was finished. Thelow-voiced, intense stranger, young and evidently beautiful, toldher that Quentin's injuries were not inflicted by thieves, but bythe hired agents of one who had cause to fear him. Before MissGarrison could remonstrate, the stranger went into the details of aplot so cowardly that she was horrified--horrified all the morebecause, in a large measure, it sustained the charges made againsther lover by Philip Quentin. When at last she could no longer endurethe villifying recital she bade the woman to leave the house, hotlyrefusing to give countenance to the lies she was telling. Thestranger desisted only after her abject pleading had drawn from theother a bitter threat to have her ejected by the servants. 

"You will not hear me to the end, but you must give me the privilegeof saying that I do not come here to do him or you an injury, " saidthe visitor, tremulously. "It is to save you from him and to savehim for myself. Mademoiselle, I love him. He would marry me were itnot for you. You think jealousy, then, inspired this visit? I admitthat jealousy is the foundation, but it does not follow that I amcompelled to lie. Everything I have said and would say is true. Perhaps he loves you, but he loved me first. A week ago he told methat he loved me still. It was I who warned the American gentlemanagainst him, and my reason is plain. I want him to win. It wouldmean death to me if it were known that I came to you with thisstory. Do you bid me go, or will you hear me to the end?"

"You must go. I cannot listen to the infamous things you sayabout--about--him, " said Dorothy, her voice choking toward the end. A horrible fear seized upon her heart. Was this woman mad or hadQuentin told the truth? A new thought came to her and she graspedthe woman's hand with convulsive fingers. "You have been sent hereby Mr. Quentin! O, how plain it is! Why did I not see through it atonce? Go back to your employer and tell him that--" She was cryinghysterically when the woman snatched away her hand, and drawingherself to full height interrupted haughtily:

"I have humbled myself that I might do you the greatest service inthe world. You drive me from your presence and you call me a liar. All of that I must endure, but I will not suffer you to accuse thisinnocent man while I have voice to offer up in his defense. I may besome one's slave, but I am not the servant of any man. I do not knowthis American; he does not know me. I am my own agent and not histool. What I have tried to tell you is true and I confess my actionshave been inspired by selfish motives. Mademoiselle, the man you areto marry promised to make me his wife long before he knew you. "

"To make you his wife? Absurd! Men of his station do not marry, norpromise to marry, the grisettes or the--"

"'Madam! It is not a grisette to whom you are speaking. The blood inmy veins is as noble as that which flows in his, the name Ibear--and perhaps disgrace, God help me!--is as proud as any in allFrance. But I have not millions, as you have. My face, my person maywin and hold the heart, but I have not the gold with which to buythe soul. You will pardon my intrusion and you will forgive me forany pang I have caused. He would not harken to the appeals from mybreaking heart, he would not give me all his love. There was leftbut one course to preserve what rightfully belongs to me, and I havefollowed it as a last resort Were you to tell him that a woman cameto you with this story, he would deny everything, and he would belost to me, even though you cast him off in the end. It is not in mypower to command you to protect the woman who is trying to help you. You do not believe what I have told to you, therefore I cannot hopefor pity at your hands. You will tell him that I have been here, andI shall pay the penalty for being the fool, the mad woman. I am notasking for pity. If I have lied to you I deserve nothing but thehardest punishment. You have one way to punish me for the wounds Iinflict, but it is the same to me, no matter how it ends. If youmarry him, I am lost; if you cast him off and yet tell him that itwas I who first sowed the seed of distrust in your heart, I am lost. It will be the same--all the same! If he cannot wed you, he willcome to me and I will forgive. Madam, he is not good enough for you, but he is all the world to me. He would wed you, but you are not theone he loves. You are all the world to one whose love is pure andhonest. If you would save him, become his wife. O, Mademoiselle, itgrieves me so to see the tears in those good eyes of yours!Farewell, and God bless and keep you. "

XVIII

ARRIVALS FROM LONDON

Lady Saxondale and the young person with the stored-up wrath weremet at the Gare du Nord by Mr. Savage, all smiles and good spirits. Quentin was rounding-to nicely, and there was little danger fromcomplications. This fact coupled with the joy of seeing the girl whohad been able to make him feel that life was not a shallow dream, sent him up to the two ladies with outstretched hands, a dancingheart and a greeting that brought smiles to the faces of crustyfellow-creatures who had not smiled in weeks. 

With a deference due to premeditated gallantry, he shook hands firstwith Lady Frances. His ebullition almost swept him to the point ofgreeting the two maids who stood respectfully near their mistresses. Then he turned his beaming face upon the Arctic individual with thepink parasol and the palm-leaf fan. 

"Awfully sorry, Lady Jane, but I really couldn't get to Ostend. Youdidn't have any trouble getting the right train and all that, didyou?" he asked, vaguely feeling for the hand which had not beenextended. 

"Not in the least, Mr. Savage. We delight in traveling alone. Do yousee the baroness anywhere, Frances?" Mr. Savage stared in amazement. A distinct, blighting frost settled over the whole September worldand his smile lost all but its breadth. The joy left his eyes andhis heart like a flash, but his lips helplessly, witlesslymaintained a wide-open hospitality until long after the inspirationwas dead. 

"She is not here, I am afraid, " responded Lady Saxondale, glancingthrough the hurrying crowd. "Have you seen the Baroness St. Auge, Mr. Savage? Or do you know her?"

"I can't say that I have--er--I mean don't--no, I should say both, "murmured he distractedly. "Does she live here?"

"She resides in a house, not in a railway station, " observed LadyJane, with a cutting sarcasm of which she was rather proud. LadySaxondale turned her face away and buried a convulsive smile in herhandkerchief. 

"I mean in Brussels, " floundered Dickey, his wits in the wind. Hewas gazing dumbly at the profile of the slim iceberg tnat had sosharply sent the blast of winter across the summer of his content. 

"She certainly understood that we were to come on this train, Frances. You telegraphed her, " said Lady Jane, ignoring himcompletely. She raised herself on her dainty tiptoes, elevated herround little chin and tried to peer over the heads of a very talland disobliging multitude. Dickey, at a loss for words, stretchedhis neck also in search of the woman he did not know. 

"How very annoying, " said Lady Saxon-dale, a faint frown on herbrow. "She is usually so punctual. "

"Perhaps she--er--didn't get your telegram, " ventured Dickey. "Whatsort of a looking--I mean, is she old or young?"

"Neither; she is just my age, " smiled Lady Saxondale. Dickey dumblypermitted the rare chance for a compliment to slip by. "Jane, won'tyou and Mr. Savage undertake a search for her? I will give Williamdirections regarding the luggage. " She turned to the man and themaids, and Mr. Savage and Lady Disdain were left to work out theirsalvation as best they could. 

"I can't think of troubling you, Mr. Savage. It won't be necessaryfor you to dodge around in this crowd to--"

"No trouble, I assure you, Lady Jane. Be glad to do it, in fact. Where shall we go first?" demanded he, considerably flurried. 

"You go that way and I'll go this. We'll find her more easily, " saidshe, relentlessly, indicating the directions. 

"But I don't know her, " he cried. 

"How unfortunate! Would you know her if I were to describe her toyou? Well, she's tall and very fair. She's also beautiful. She'squite stunning. I'm sure you'll know her. " She was starting awaywhen he confronted her desperately. 

"You'll have to go with me. I'll be arrested for addressing thewrong lady if I go alone, and you'll suffer the mortification ofseeing them drag me off to jail. "

"The what? Why do you say mortification, Mr. Savage? I am quitesure--"

"O, come now, Jane--aw--Lady Jane--what do you mean by that? What'sall the row about? What has happened?" he cried. 

"I don't understand you, Mr. Savage. "

"Something's wrong, or you'd seem happier to see me, that's all, " hesaid, helplessly. "Lord, all my troubles come at once. Phil is halfdead, perhaps all dead, by this time--and here you come along, adding misery instead of--"

"Phil--Mr. Quentin--what did you say, Dickey?" she cried, herhaughty reserve fading like a flash. 

"Don't you know?" he cried. "Almost killed last night by--byrobbers. Slugged him nearly to a finish. Horrible gashes--eightstitches"--he was blurting out excitedly, but she clasped his armconvulsively and fairly dragged him to where Lady Saxondale stood. 

"Oh, Dickey! They didn't kill--he won't die, will he? Why didn't youtell us before? Why didn't you telegraph?" she cried, and there wasno wrath in the thumping, terrified little heart. Lady Saxondaleturned quickly upon hearing the excited words of the girl who but amoment before had been the personification of reserve. 

"What are you saying, Jane? Is there anything wrong?" she asked. 

"Everything is wrong--Philip is dead!" cried Lady Jane, ready tofaint. "Dickey says there are eight gashes, and that he is all dead!Why don't you tell us about it, Dickey?"

"He's all right--not dead at all. Robber's held him up last nightduring the storm, and if help hadn't come just when it did they'dhave made short work of him. But I can't tell you about it here, youknow. If you'll allow me I'll take a look for the baroness. "

"I'll go with you, " said Lady Jane, enthusiastically. "Dickey, " shewent on as they hurried away, "I forgive you. "

"Forgive me for what?" he asked. 

"For not coming to Ostend, " demurely. 

"You really wanted me to come, did you, Jane?"

"Yes, after I had been goose enough to telegraph to you, you know. You don't know how small I felt when you did not come, " she hurriedout, but his merry laugh cut short the humiliating confession. 

"And that was why you--"

"Yes, that was why. Don't say another word about it, though. I wassuch a horrid little fool, and I am so ashamed of myself. And youwere so worried all the time about dear Mr. Quentin, " she pleaded, penitently. 

"You might have known that nothing short of death could haveprevented me from coming to Ostend, " said he softly. "But I've allsorts of news to tell you. When I tell you about the duel you'll gointo convulsions; when you hear--"

"A duel? Good heavens, how--I mean who--" she gasped, her eyes widerthan ever. 

"'I don't know how, but I do know who. Jane, I have shot a man!" hesaid, impressively. 

"Oh, oh, oh! Dickey!" she almost shrieked, coming helplessly to astandstill, a dozen emotions crowding themselves into her pretty, bewildered face. 

"Don't faint! I'll tell you all about it--to-night, eh?" he said, hastily. He was vastly afraid she might topple over in a swoon. 

"I can't wait!" she gasped. "And I will not faint. You must tell meall about it this instant. Is the other man--is he--where is he?"

"He's in a hospital. Everybody's staring at us. What a fool I was tosay anything about it, I won't tell you another word of it. "

"Oh, Dickey, please!" she implored. He was obdurate and her mannerchanged suddenly. With blighting scorn she exclaimed, "I don'tbelieve a word you've said. "

"O, now, that's hardly a nice way--" he began, indignantly, catchinghimself luckily before floundering into her trap. "You will have towait, just the same, Miss Lady Jane Oldham. Just now we are supposedto be searching for a baroness who is good enough to come to railwaystations, you'll remember. Have you seen her?"

At this juncture Lady Saxondale's voice was heard behind them, andthere were traces of laughter in the tones. 

"Are you waiting for the mountain to come to you? Here is thebaroness, delayed by an accident to her victoria. " Mr. Savage waspresented to the handsome, rather dashing lady, whose smile was asbroad and significant as that which still left traces about LadySaxondale's lips. He bowed deeply to hide the red in his cheeks andthe confusion in his eyes. His companion, on the other hand, greetedthe stranger so effusively that he found it possible during themoments of merry chatter to regain a fair proportion of his lostcomposure. 

The Baroness St. Auge was an English woman, famed as a whip, agolfer and an entertainer. Her salon was one of the mostinteresting, the most delightful in Brussels; her husband and herrollicking little boys were not a whit less attractive than herself, and her household was the wonder of that gay, careless city. Thebaron, a middle-aged Belgian of wealth, was as merry a nobleman asever set forth to seek the pleasures of life. His board was known asthe most bountiful, his home the cheeriest and most hospitable, hishorses the best bred in all Brussels. He loved his wife and indulgedher every whim, and she adored him. Theirs was a home in which thelaugh seldom gave way to the frown, where happiness dweltundisturbed and merriment kept the rafters twitching. With them thetwo London women were to stop until after the wedding. Saxondale wasto visit his grim old castle in Luxemburg for several days beforecoming up to Brussels, and he was not to leave England for anotherweek. Baron St. Auge was looking over his estates in the north ofBelgium, but was expected home before the week's end. 

Mr. Savage was in an unusual flutter of exhilaration when he rushedinto Quentin's presence soon after the ladies drove away from theGare du Nord. The baroness had warmly insisted that he come thatevening to regale them with the story of the robbery and the accountof the duel, a faint and tantalizing rumor of which had come to herears. 

"The baroness lives on the Avenue Louise, old man, " he said, afterhe had described her glowingly. A long, cool drink ran down his drythroat before his listener, propped up in his bed and looking uponhis friend with somber eyes, deigned to break the silence. 

"So you are to tell them about the duel Dickey, " he said, slowly. 

"They're crazy about it. "

"I thought it was to be kept as dark as possible. " Dickey's jawdropped and his eyes lost their gleam of satisfaction. 

"By thunder, I--I forgot that!" he exclaimed. "What am I to do?" hewent on after a moment of perplexity and dismay. The long, cooldrink seemed to have left a disagreeable taste in his mouth and hegulped feebly. 

"Commit suicide, I should say. I see no other way out of it, "advised the man in the bed, soberly. The misery in Dickey's face wasbeyond description, and the perspiration that stood on his brow camenot from the heat of the day. 

"Did you ever know a bigger ass than I, Phil? Now, did you, honestly?" he groaned. 

"I believe I can outrank you myself, Dickey. It seems to me we areout of our class when it comes to diplomacy. Give Lady Saxondale andLady Jane my compliments to-night, and tell them I hope to see thembefore I sail for home. "

"What's that?" in astonishment. 

"Before I sail for home. "

"Going to give it up, are you?"

"She thinks I'm a liar, so what is the use?"

"You didn't talk that way this morning. You swore she believedeverything you said and that she cares for you. Anything happenedsince then?"

"Nothing but the opportunity to think it all over while thesebandages hold my brain in one place. Her mind is made up and I can'tchange it, truth or no truth. She'll never know what a villianRavorelli--or Pavesi--is until it is too late. "

"You'll feel better to-morrow, old man. The stitches hurt like thedevil, don't they? Cheer up, old chap; I'm the one who needsencouragement. See what I have to face to-night. Good lord, there'llbe three women, at least--maybe a dozen--begging, commanding me totell all about that confounded shooting match, and I was gettingalong so nicely with her, too, " he concluded, dolefully. 

"With the baroness? On such short acquaintance?"

"No, of course not. With Jane Oldham. I don't know how I'm going tosquare it with her, by jove, I don't. Say, I'll bet my head I brayin my sleep, don't I? That's the kind of an ass I am. "

When he looked listlessly into Quentin's room late that evening hewore the air of a martyr, but he was confident he had scored atriumph in diplomacy. Diplomacy in his estimation, was the dignifiedsynonym for lying. For an hour he had lied like a trooper to threewomen; he left them struggling with the conviction that all the restof the world lied and he alone told the truth. With the perspirationof despair on his brow, he had convinced them that there had been noreal duel--just a trifling conflict, in which he, being a goodYankee, had come off with a moderate victory. Lady Jane believed;Lady Saxondale was more or less skeptical; while the Baroness, although graciously accepting his story as it came from hisblundering lips, did not believe a word of it. His story of the"robbery" was told so readily and so graphically that it could notbe doubted. 

Like true women, Lady Saxondale and her sister, accompanied by theirhostess and her brother, Colonel Denslow, seized the first favorableopportunity to call at the rooms of Mr. Quentin. They found him thenext morning sitting up in a comfortable chair, the picture ofdesolation, notwithstanding the mighty efforts of Dickey Savage andthe convivial millionaire. The arrival of the party put new lifeinto the situation, and it was not long before Phil found hisspirits soaring skyward. 

"Tell me the truth about this awful duel, " commanded Lady Saxondale, after Dickey had collected the other members of the party about atable to which tall glasses with small stems were brought at hiscall. 

"I'm afraid Dickey has been a bit too loquacious, " said he, smilingly. 

"He fibs so wretchedly, you know. One could see he had been toldwhat not to say. You can trust me, Phil, " she said, earnestly. Andhe told her all, from beginning to end. Not once did she interrupt, and but seldom did she allow horror to show itself in her clear, brave eyes. 

"And she will go on and marry this man, Phil. I am afraid she cannotbe convinced--or will not, I should say, " she said, slowly, at theend of the recital. "What a villain, what a coward he is!"

"But she must not be sacrificed, Frances! She must be saved. GoodGod, can't something be done to drag her from the clutches of thatscoundrel?" he almost groaned. 

"The clutches of her mother are more cious than those of the prince. There is the power that dominates. Can it be broken?"

"As well try to break down the Rocky Mountains. That woman has noheart--no soul, I'll swear. Dorothy has a mind and a will of herown, though, Frances. I feel that she loves me--something tells meshe does, but she will not break this hateful compact. I am surethat I saw love in her eyes that last night, heard it in her voice, felt it in the way she dismissed me. "

"You made a mistake when you denounced him to her. It was butnatural for her to defend him. "

"I know it, but I was driven to it. I saw no other way. She accusedme of cowardice. Good heavens, I'd give my soul to be up now andable to call that villain's bluff. But I am in here for a week, atleast, and the wedding is only two weeks away. When is Bob coming?"he cried, feverishly. 

"Be calm, Phil. You will gain nothing by working yourself into afrenzy. Bob will come when I send for him. It shall be at once, ifyou have need for him here. "

"I want him immediately, but I cannot ask him or you to mix in thismiserable game. There may be a scandal and I won't drag you all intoit, " he said, dejectedly. 

"I'll send for Bob, just the same, dear boy. What are friends for, pray?"

She left him with the firm and secret determination to carry the warfor friendship's sake to the very door of Dorothy Garrison'sstubborn heart, and that without delay. 

XIX

THE DAY OF THE WEDDING

When Lord Bob reached Brussels on Friday he found affairs in a sorryshape. His wife's never-failing serenity was in a sad state ofcollapse. Quentin was showing wonderful signs of recuperation, andit almost required lock and key to keep him from breaking forth intothe wildest indiscretions. Gradually and somewhat disconnectedly hebecame acquainted with existing conditions. He first learned thathis wife had carried Quentin's banner boldly up to the walls of thefortress, and then--well, Lady Saxondale's pride was very much hurtby what happened there. Miss Garrison was exceedingly polite, butquite ungrateful for the kindness that was being bestowed upon her. She assured her ladyship that she was making no mistake in marryingPrince Ravorelli, and, if she were, she alone would suffer. 

"I am so furious with her, Bob, for marrying Prince Ugo that I amnot going to the wedding, " said Lady Saxondale. 

"Whew! That's a bracer! But, by the way, my dear, did you introduceany real proof that he is the scoundrel you say he is? Seems to methe poor girl is right in the stand she takes. She wants proof, andpositive proof, you know. I don't blame her. How the deuce can shebreak it off with the fellow on the flimsy excuse that Phil Quentinand Lady Saxondale say he is a rascal? You've all been acting like atribe of ninnies, if you'll pardon my saying so. "

"She is sensible enough to know that we would not misrepresentmatters to her in such a serious case as this, " she retorted. 

"What proof have you that Ravorelli is a villain?"

"Good heavens, Bob, did he not try to have Phil murdered?" sheexclaimed, pityingly. 

"Do you know that to be a positive fact?"

"Phil and Mr. Savage are quite thoroughly convinced. "

"But if anyone asked you to go on to the witness stand and swearthat Prince Ugo tried to take the life of Philip Quentin, could youdo so?" he persisted. 

"You goose, I was not an eye-witness. How could I swear to such athing?"

"Well, if I understand the situation correctly, Miss Garrison is thejudge, Ravorelli the accused, and you are one of the witnesses. Now, really, dear, how far do you imagine your hearsay evidence--which isno evidence at all--goes with the fair magistrate? What would beyour verdict if some one were to come to you and say, 'Saxondale isa blackguard, a rascal, a cutthroat?'"

"I confess I'd say it was not true, " she said, turning quite red. 

"The chances are you wouldn't even ask for proof. So, you see, MissGarrison behaved very generously when she condescended to hear yourassertions instead of instructing the servant to direct you to thedoor. "

"She was above reproach, Bob. I never saw anyone so calm, socomposed and so frigidly agreeable. If she had shown the faintestsign of anger, displeasure or even disgust, I could forgive her, butshe acted just as if she were tolerating me rather than to lowerherself to the point of seriously considering a word I uttered. Iknow the prince is a villian. I believe every word Phil says abouthim. " She took Lord Bob's hands in hers, and her deep, earnest eyesburnt conviction into his brain. 

"And so do I Frances I am as sure thatUgo is a scoundrel as if I had personal knowledge of histransactions. In fact, I have never believed in him. You and I willstand together, dear, in this fight for poor old Phil, and, by theLord Harry, they'll find us worth backing to the finish. If there'sanything to be done that can be done, we'll do it, my girl. " And hewas amply repaid for his loyal declaration by the love that shonerefulgent from her eyes. 

Quentin naturally chafed under the restraint. There was nothing hecould do, nothing his friends could do, to avert the disaster thatwas daily drawing nearer. Lord Bob infused a momentary spark of hopeinto the dying fire of his courage, but even the resourceful Britonadmitted that the prospect was too gloomy to warrant the slightestencouragement. They could gain absolutely no headway against theprince, for there was no actual proof to be had. To find the strangewoman who gave the first warning to Quentin was out of the question. Turk had watched every movement of the prince and his aides in thehope of in some way securing a clue to her identity or whereabouts. There was but one proposition left; the purchase of Courant. 

This plan seemed feasible until Turk reported, after diligentsearch, that the French detective could not be found. Dickey was forbuying the two Italian noblemen, but that seemed out of thequestion, and it was unreasonable to suspect that the otherhirelings recognized the prince as their real employer. Theslightest move to approach the two noblemen might prove disastrous, and wisdom cut off Dickey's glorious scheme to give each of them "ahundred dollars to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. "

Quentin at last burst all bonds, and, finding himself out of thedoctor's hands, determined to make a last desperate appeal toDorothy Garrison. If that appeal failed, he would then give up thestruggle; he would at least end the suspense. He knew how difficultit would be to obtain an audience with her, but he went ahead withthe confidence of the drowning man, the boldness of the man who iswounded to the death but does not know it. 

It was the Wednesday just one week before the wedding that saw thepale-faced, tall and somewhat unsteady American deliberately leavehis cab and stride manfully up the steps of a certain mansion in theAvenue Louise. Miss Garrison was "not at home, " and her mother was"not at home. " So said the obsequious footman. 

''Take my card to Miss Garrison, " said Quentin, coolly. The manlooked bewildered and was protesting that his young mistress was notin the house when the lady herself appeared at the top of the broadstairway. Phil stood in the center of the hall watching her as sheslowly descended the steps. At the bottom of the steps she paused. Neither spoke, neither smiled, for the crisis was upon them. If hewere pale from the loss of blood, she was white with the aches froma fever-consumed heart. 

"Why have you come?" she asked, at last, her voice so low that thewords scarcely reached his ears. 

''Dorothy, " was all he said. 

"You knew what I must say to you before you entered the door. Willyou let me tell you how deeply I have grieved over your misfortune?Are you quite wise in coming out before you have the strength? Youare so pale, so weak. Won't you go back to your--to your hotel andsave yourself all the pain that will come to you here?" There waspity in her eyes, entreaty in her voice, and he was enveloped in thetender warmth of her sincerity. Never had she seemed so near as now, and yet never so far away. 

"Dorothy, you must know what manner of love it is that brings me toplead for the smallest crumb of what has been once refused. I comesimply, in all humility, with outstretched hands to ask your love. "He drew nearer, and she did not retreat. 

"Oh, it is so useless--so hopeless, Phil, " she said, softly. "Whywill you persist? I cannot grant even the crumb. "

"I love you, Dorothy, " he cried passionately. 

"Oh! Phil; you must understand that I can give younothing--absolutely nothing. For God's sake--for my sake, for thesake of that dear friendship we own together, go away andforget--forget everything, " she said, piteously. 

A half-hour later he slowly descended the steps, staggering like aman sick unto death. She sat where he left her, her wide, dry eyesseeing nothing, her ears hearing nothing but the words his love hadforced her to utter. These words:

"Yes, heaven help me, I do care for you. But, go! Go! I can neversee you again. I shall keep the bargain I have made, if I die at thealtar. I cannot break my promise to him. " And all his pleading couldnot break down that decision--not even when she found herself forone brief, terrible instant in his straining arms, his lips uponhers. 

It was all over. He calmly told his friends, as he had told her, that he would sail for New York on the first steamer, and Turkreluctantly began to pack the things. The night before he was toleave for Hamburg, the Saxondales, Lady Jane and Savage sat with himlong into the night. Prince Ugo's watchdogs were not long indiscovering the sudden turn affairs had taken, and he was gleefullycelebrating the capitulation. 

The next day the Saxondales accompanied the two Americans to therailway station, bade them a fond farewell and hastened back to thehome of the Baron St. Auge with new resolutions in their hearts. Theforepart of the ensuing week saw their departure from Brussels. Deliberately they turned their backs on the great wedding that wasto come, and as if scorning it completely, journeyed to Lord Bob'sruins in Luxemburg, preferring the picturesque solitude of thetumbledown castle to the empty spectacle at St. Gudule. Brussels mayhave wondered at their strange leave-taking on the eve of thewedding, but no explanation was offered by the departing ones. 

When Dorothy Garrison heard that Philip Quentin had started for theUnited States she felt a chill of regret sink suddenly into hersoul, and it would not be driven forth. She went on to the verynight that was to make her a princess, with the steel in her heart, but the world did not know it was there. There was no faltering, nowavering, no outward sign of the emotions which surged within. Shewas to be a princess! But when the Saxondales turned their facesfrom her, spurning the invitation to her wedding, the pride in herheart suffered. That was a blow she had not expected. It was like anaccusation, a reproach. 

Little Lady Jane blissfully carried with her to the valley of theAlzette the consciousness that Richard Savage was very much in lovewith her, even though he had not found courage to tell her so inplain words. A telegram from him stating that he and Quentin hadtaken passage for New York and would sail on the following daydispelled the hope that he might return. 

Brussels was full of notables. The newspapers of two continents werefairly blazing with details of the wedding. There were portraits ofthe bride and groom, and the bishop, and pictures of the gowns, thehats, the jewels; there were biographies of the noted beauty and theman she was to marry. The Brussels papers teemed with the arrivalsof distinguished guests. 

Overcoming Mrs. Garrison's objections, Dorothy had insisted on andobtained special permission to have a night wedding. She had dreamedof the lights, the splendor, the brilliancy of an after-sunsetwedding and would not be satisfied until all barriers were putaside. 

Dorothy's uncle, Henry Van Dykman, her mother's brother, and anumber of elated New York relatives came to the Belgian capital, shedding their American opulence as the sun throws out its light. The skill of a general was required to direct, manage and controlthe pageant of the sixteenth. Thousands of dollars were tossed intothe cauldron of social ambition by the lavish mother, who, frombehind an army of lieutenants, directed the preliminary maneuvers. 

The day came at last and St. Gudule's presented a scene sobewilderingly, so dazzlingly glorious that all Brussels blinked itseyes and was awed into silence. The church gleamed with the wealthof the universe, it seemed, and no words could describe thebrilliancy of the occasion. The hour of this woman's triumph hadcome, the hour of the Italian conqueror had come, the hour of thevictim had come. 

In front of the house in the Avenue Louise, an hour before thebeginning of the ceremony, there stood the landau that was to takethe bride to the cathedral. Carriage after carriage passed, bearingthe visitors from the new world, to the church. All were gone savethe bride, her mother and her uncle. Down the carpeted steps andacross to the door of the carriage came Dorothy and her uncle, followed by the genius of the hour. At the last moment Dorothyshuddered, turned sick and faint for an instant, as she thought of aship far out at sea. 

The footman swung up beside the driver, and they were off by quietstreets toward the church where waited all impatient, the vastassemblage and the triumphant prince. The silence inside thecarriage was like that of the tomb. What were the thoughts of theoccupants could not well be described. 

"Are we not almost there, Dorothy?" nervously asked her mother, after many minutes. "Good heavens! We are late! O, what shall wedo?" cried she in despair. In an instant the somber silence of thecab's interior was lost. The girl forgot her prayer in the horror ofthe discovery that there was to be a hitch in the well-plannedarrangements. Her mother frantically pulled aside the curtains andlooked out, fondly expecting to see the lights of St. Gudule on thehill. Uncle Henry dropped his watch in his nervousness and was allconfusion. 

"We are not near the church, my--why, where are we? I have neverseen these houses before. Henry, Henry, call to the driver! He haslost his way. My heavens, be quick!"

It was not necessary to hail the driver, for at that instant thecarriage came to a sudden standstill. The door opened quickly, andbefore the eyes of the astonished occupants loomed the form of amasked man. In his hand he held a revolver. 

XX

WITH STRANGE COMPANIONS

"A word, a sound and I fire!" came the cold, hard voice of the manin the mask. He spoke in French. The trio sat petrified, speechless, breathless. So sudden, so stunning was the shock to their sensesthat they were as graven images for the moment. There was no impulseto scream, to resist; they had no power to da either. 

"We will injure no one unless there is an outcry or a struggle. Monsieur, Madame, there is no occasion for alarm; no more is there achance to escape, " said the mask quietly. Three pairs of eyes lookeddumbly into the gleaming holes in the black mask that covered hisface. 

"The police?" finally whispered Mrs. Garrison, coming slowly out ofher stupor. 

"Silence, madame! You are not to speak. Faint if you like; we willnot object to that and it may be a relief to you, " said the man, sarcastically gallant. "I must ask you to make room for me insidethe carriage. We cannot remain here; the police may come this way--Imean those who are not engaged in guarding the grand cathedral towhich you were going. " He was inside the carriage and sitting besideDorothy when he concluded the last observation. With a shudder shedrew away from him. "Pardon, Mademoiselle, I must implore you toendure my presence here for a time. We have quite a distance totravel together. "

A nameless dread sent chills to the hearts which had begun to thumpwildly in the reaction. What did he mean?

"What are you going to do with us?" groaned the horrified mother. The carriage was now moving rapidly over the pavement. 

"In due time you may know, Madame; you have only to be patient. Forthe moment, it is necessary that you keep perfectly quiet. Althoughyou are a woman, I shall have to kill you if you disobey mycommands. We take desperate chances to-night in the coup which shallmake all Europe ring with the crowning act of the great diamondrobbers, as you are pleased to call us; and we can brook noresistance. You see my revolver, Monsieur, it is on a direct linewith your breast. You are Americans, I am told, and your people arenoted for coolness, for discretion under trying circumstances. Yourwomen are as brave as your men. I merely ask you to call yourcourage--"

"You shall not go on, monster, " exclaimed Mrs. Garrison, fiercely. "Do you know who we are? Surely you are not inhuman enough to--"

"Madame! I warn you for the last time. You must be reasonable. Resistance, argument, pleading will avail you nothing. If you desireto discuss the situation calmly, sensibly, you may do so, but youare to go only so far as I see fit. Will you remember?" There was nomistaking the earnestness of the speaker. Mrs. Garrison realizedthat she was absolutely powerless, completely at the mercy of thebold intruder. 

"What must we pay, then, for our freedom? Name the price, man. Orderyour men to drive us to St. Gudule's and anything you ask is yours. I implore you to be generous. Think, Monsieur, think what this meansto us!" she said, desperately. 

"I am not at liberty to dictate terms, Madame. It is only my duty tocarry out my part of the transaction; another will make terms withyou. "

"But when? When? We cannot be delayed a moment longer. The hour hasalready passed when my daughter should be before the altar. ForGod's sake, name your price. I will pay, I will pay, " sobbed thehalf-crazed woman

"Sir, do you know what you are doing?" demanded the quaking old man, finding his voice at last. "You must listen to reason. Think ofyourself, if not of us. What will become of you when you are caught?Pause in this awful crime and think--"

"You are kind; Monsieur, to advise me, but it is too late. "

"Will you take us to St. Gudule's?" cried the elder woman, on theverge of collapse. "I will give you all you ask, Monsieur. "

"Ten thousand dollars is yours if you abandon this damnable--" beganMr. Van Dykman. 

"It will avail nothing to offer me money, " interrupted the master ofthe situation, harshly. "That is the end of it. Believe me, money isnot what we are after to-night. To-morrow, perhaps, it may temptus. "

"What do you mean to do with us?" cried the girl, horror in hervoice. 

"We do not mean to harm you, Mademoiselle, if you are sensible anddo as we command. "

"But the wedding, the wedding!" moaned Mrs. Garrison. "What willthey think of us? O, Monsieur, if you are one of the great diamondrobbers I willingly give all that I have about me. On my personthere are jewels valued at many thousand--"

"Another word, Madame, and I shall be obliged to use force, " saidthe man, leaning forward, threateningly. In the darkness they couldfeel the menace in his eyes. 

"You are determined to go on with this outrage?" asked Van Dykman. 

"A coup so well planned as this cannot be given up, Monsieur. Weflatter ourselves that no such job has ever graced the history ofEurope, " said the stranger, pleasantly. "Down in your hearts, Ibelieve you will some day express admiration for the way in whichthe abduction has been managed. "

"Abduction?" gasped Mrs. Garrison. Dorothy sank back into the cornerat that word and it seemed to her that her heart would never beatagain. 

"Where do you mean to take us, and what is your object?" slowlyasked Mrs. Garrison, a peculiar sense of resignation coming overher. It was as if she recognized the utter hopelessness of escapefrom the hands of these skillful wretches. She now saw that the mindwhich had planned the capture was one that could carry the game tothe end without a flaw in the operations. 

"I can answer neither question, Madame. Suffice to say that you arerich and we are poor. I leave the rest for your imagination. Itgrieves us, of course, to mar the grand wedding of to-night, but youwill readily understand that at no other time could we find you sowell prepared. Truly, I wonder what they are doing in St. Gudule. "

"My coachman, my footman, my servants, it seems, are youraccomplices, " said Mrs. Garrison, steadily. 

"Not at all, Madame. To-morrow your coachman and your footman willbe found where we confined them. The men here have never been inyour employ. I could recommend them to you, however; they are mosttrusty, faithful fellows, and they would be loyal to you to thedeath. "

"For God's sake, where are we?" burst forth Mr. Van Dykman, unableto control his fear longer. 

"We are near the edge of the city, and will soon be beyond thelimits. I must command absolute silence for the next half-hour. Nota word must be spoken as we are passing a point of danger. Do notpermit hope of rescue to enter your minds, however, for there is nochance. I may enlighten you by saying that the revolvers I carrywork safely, quietly and very effectually. Will you join me, in ahalf-hour's silent consideration of the scenes that are now takingplace in old St. Gudule? I am sure there is no limit to theimagination when we give over our thoughts to that subject. "

Whatever may have been the desire to shriek, to call for help, totear away the window curtains, the three helpless captives wereunable to break through the influence this lone bandit spread aboutthem. The thought of St. Gudule, of the great gathering, of theimpatience, the consternation, the sensation occasioned by thenon-arrival of the bride, brought madness to the brains of thehapless trio. Like a vivid panorama they saw everything that wasgoing on in the church. They saw alarm in faces of those closelyinterested in the wedding, heard the vague rumors and questionings, the order for the search, the report of accident, and then--thepolice and newspapers!

At last the carriage came to a stop and the footman swung down fromthe seat, opening the door quickly. That they were far beyond thestreets of the city was apparent in the oppressive stillness, brokenonly by the heavy panting of the horses. "This is the place, " camein the coarse voice of the footman. "We have no time to lose. "

"Then I must ask you to get down, Monsieur, and the ladies. We areabout to enter a house for a short while, the better to complete thedetails of our little transactions. Remember, no noise means noviolence Be quick, please. " Thus spoke the man in the seat, who aninstant later stepped forth into the darkness. The trembling, sobbing women dragged themselves to the ground, their gorgeous gownstrailing in the dust, unthought of and unprotected. Mr. Van Dykman, old as he was, took courage in the momentary relaxation, andattempted to halloo for help. A heavy hand was clasped over hismouth and strong arms subdued his show of resistance. Swiftly acrossa short stretch of ground they went, up rickety steps and into theblack hallway of a house. There were stifled moans of terror on thelips of the two women, but there was no resistance save the weighttheir strengthless forms imposed upon the men who had them incharge. There was no light in the house and no sign that it wasoccupied by others than themselves. 

"We remain here for several hours. If all goes well, you will thenbe at liberty to depart for your home in the city. Here is a chair, Madam. Pray be seated. Pardon our inability to give you a light. Youwill be patient, I am sure, when it is said on the sacred word of agentleman that no harm is to come to you. It is only necessary thatyou remain quiet and await the hour when we are ready to releaseyou. I must ask permission to lock the door of this room. Beforedawn your friends will be here to take you away in safety. Everything has been arranged for your personal welfare and comfort. Permit me to say goodnight. "

"Where are we?" demanded the old man. 

"Why have you brought us here?" asked Mrs. Garrison from the armchair into which she had limply fallen. 

"You will learn everything in good time. We shall be just outsidethe door, and will respond promptly if you need our help to theextent of shouting for it. In the meantime your horses and carriageare being well cared for. Be of good heart and your night will notbe a long one. Believe me, I hope we may meet again under morepleasing conditions. "

The door closed a second later and the key clicked. Then came theshooting of a bolt, a short scuffling of feet, and the silence ofthe dead reigned over the strange house. Overcome with dread, theoccupants of the room uttered no word, no sound for what seemed tothem an hour. Then Mrs. Garrison, real tenderness in her voice, called softly to her daughter. 

"Darling, can you find me in this darkness? Come to me. Let me holdyou close in my arms, Dorothy, poor, poor child. "

But there was no response to the appeal, nor to a second and a thirdcall. The mother sprang to her feet in sudden terror, her heartfluttering wildly. 

"Henry! Are you here? Where is--what nas happened to Dorothy?" shecried. A trembling old man and a frantic woman bumped against eachother in the darkness and the search began. There were but twopeople in the room! Following this alarming discovery one of thesepersons swooned and the other battered, like a madman, against theheavy, stubborn door. 

Far away in the night bowled a carriage drawn by sturdy horses. Theclouds broke and the vain fell. Thunder and lightning ran rampant inthe skies, but nothing served to lessen the speed of that swiftflight over the highways leading into the sleep-ridden country. Inside the cab, not the one in which Dorothy Garrison had begun herjourney to the altar, but another and less pretentious, sat the grimdesperado and a half-dead woman. Whither they flew no one knew savethe man who held the reins over the plunging horses. How long theirjourney--well, it was to have an end. 

True to the promise made by the bandit, a clattering band ofhorsemen dashed up to the lonely house at the break of dawn. Theywere led by Prince Ugo Ravorelli, dishevelled, half-crazed. Ashivering woman in silks and a cowering old man sobbed with joy whenthe rescuers burst through the door. Tacked to a panel in the doorwas an ominous, ghost-like paper on which was printed the followingmessage from the night just gone:

"In time the one who is missing shall be returned to the arms of hermother, absolutely unharmed. She will be well cared for by those whohave her in charge. After a reasonable length of time her friendswill be informed as to the terms on which she may be restored tothem. "

Mrs. Garrison, more dead than alive, was conveyed to her home in theAvenue Louise, there to recover her strength with astonishingquickness. This vastly purposeful, indomitable woman, before manyhours had passed, was calmly listening to plans for the capture ofher daring abductors and the release of her daughter. Friends, overcome with the horror of the hour, flocked to her aid andcomfort; the government offered its assistance and the police wentto work as one massive sleuth-hound. Newspapers all over the worldfairly staggered under the burden of news they carried to theirreaders, and people everywhere stood aghast at the most audaciousoutrage in the annals of latter-day crime. 

As completely lost as if the earth had swallowed them were thediamond robbers--for all the world accepted them as theperpetrators--and their fair prize. No one saw the carriage after itturned off the Avenue Louise on the night of the abduction; no onesaw the party leave the lonely house in the country. A placard foundon the steps of a prominent citizen's home at an early hour in themorning told the frenzied searchers where to look for the mother andthe uncle of the missing girl. 

A reward of 100, 000 francs for the arrest of the abductors or thereturn of Miss Garrison was offered at once by the stony-faced womanin the Avenue Louise, and detectives flew about like bees. Everycity in the land was warned to be on the lookout, every village waswatched, every train and station was guarded. Nine in every tendetectives maintained that she was still in Brussels, and houseafter house, mansion after mansion was searched. 

Three days after the abduction word came from London that four menand a young woman, apparently insane, all roughly attired, had cometo that city from Ostend, and had disappeared before the officialswere fully cognizant of their arrival. The woman, according to thestatements of men who saw her on the train, was beautiful and paleas with the sickness that promised death. 

XXI

THE HOME OF THE BRIGANDS

It was past midnight, after a wild ride through the storm, when anold gentleman and his wife, with their sick daughter, boarded a fasteastbound train at Namur. Had the officers of the law known of theabduction at that hour it would have been an easy matter to discoverthat the loose-flowing gown which enveloped the almost unconscious, partially veiled daughter, hid a garment of silk so fine that thewhole world had read columns concerning its beauty. The gray beardof the rather distinguished old man could have been removed: at asingle grasp, while the wife, also veiled, wore the clothing of aman underneath the skirts. The father and mother were all attentionto their unfortunate child, who looked into their faces with wide, hopeless eyes and uttered no word of complaint, no sound of pain. 

At a small station some miles from the border line of the grandduchy of Luxemburg, the party left the coach and were met by acarriage in which they whirled away in the darkness that comes justbefore dawn. The horses flew swiftly toward the line that separatesBelgium from the grand duchy, and the sun was barely above the bankof trees on the highlands in the east when the carriage of theimpetuous travelers drew up in front of a picturesque roadside innjust across the boundary. The sweat-flecked horses were quicklystabled and the occupants of the vehicle were comfortably and safelyquartered in a darkened room overlooking the highway. 

So ill was the daughter, explained the father, that she was not tobe disturbed on any account or pretext. Fatigued by the long ridefrom their home in the north, she was unable to continue the journeyto Luxemburg until she had had a day of rest. At the big city shewas to be placed in the care of the most noted of surgeons. Full ofcompassion, the keeper of the inn and his good wife did all in theirpower to carry out the wishes of the distressed father, particularlyas he was free with his purse. It did not strike them as peculiarthat the coachman remained at the stable closely, and that early inthe day his horses were attached to the mud-covered carriage, as ifready for a start on the notice of a moment. The good man and hiswife and the few peasants who were told of the suffering guest, inorder that they might talk in lowered voices and refrain fromdisturbing noises, did not know that the "mother" of the girl satbehind the curtains of an upstairs window watching the road in bothdirections, a revolver on the sill. 

The fact that the strange party decided to depart for Luxemburg justbefore nightfall did not create surprise in their simple breasts, for had not the anxious father said they would start as soon as hisdaughter felt equal to the journey? So eager were they to deliverher over to the great doctor who alone could save her life. With acrack of the whip and a gruff shout of farewell to the gapingstableboy who had been his companion for a day, the driver of theearly morning coach whirled into the road and off toward the city ofprecipices. No one about the inn knew who the brief sojourners were, nor did they know whence they came. The stableboy noted the letter Sblazoned on the blinds of the horses' bridles, but there were noletters on the carriage. There had been, but there was evidence thatthey had been unskillfully removed. 

Late in the night the coachman pulled rein and a man on horsebackrode up, opened the door and softly inquired after the welfare ofthe occupants. With a command to follow, he rode away through anarrow, uncertain wagon path. When the way became rough anddangerous, he dismounted and climbed to the boot of the cab, thecoachman going to the empty saddle. Half an hour later the newcoachman stopped the puffing horses in front of a great, blackshadow from which, here and there, lights beamed cheerfully. Fromthe back of the vehicle the two men unstrapped the heavy steamertrunk which had come all the way from Brussels with the party, andthen the doors of the big shadow opened and closed behind DorothyGarrison and her captors. So skillfully and so audaciously were theplans of the abductors carried out that when Miss Garrison entered aroom set apart for her in the great house, after passing throughlong, grotesque and ill-lighted corridors, she found an open trunkfull of garments she had expected to wear on her wedding journey!

A trim and pretty English maid entered the room the instant it wasvacated by the gray-bearded man and the tall person who had posed ashis wife. While Dorothy sat like a statue, gazing upon her, theyoung woman lighted other candles in the apartment and then came tothe side of the mute, wretched newcomer. 

"Will you let me prepare you for bed, miss? It is very late, and youmust be tired. Would you like anything to eat before retiring?" sheasked, as quietly as if she had been in her service forever. 

"In heaven's name, where am I? Tell me what does it all mean? Whatare they going to do with me?" cried Dorothy, hoarsely, clutchingthe girl's hand. 

"You could not be in safer hands, Miss Garrison, " said the maid, kindly. "I am here to do all that is your pleasure. "

"All? Then I implore you to aid me in getting from--" began Dorothy, excitedly, coming to her unsteady feet. 

"I am loyal to others as well as to you, " interposed the maid, firmly. "To-morrow you will find that--but, there, I must say nomore. Your bedchamber is off here, Miss. You will let me prepare youfor the sleep you need so much? No harm can come to you here. "

Dorothy suddenly felt her courage returning; her brain began to busyitself with hopes, prospects, plans. After all they could not, wouldnot kill her; she was too valuable to them. There was the chance ofescape and new strength in the belief that she could in some wayoutwit them; there was a vast difference between the woman whosuffered herself to be put to bed by the deft, kindly maid, and theone who dragged herself hopelessly into the room such a short timebefore. With the growth of hope and determination there came thecourage to inspect her surroundings. 

The rooms were charming. There was a generous, kindly warmth aboutthem that suggested luxury, refinement and the hand of a connoiseur. The rugs were of rare quality, the furnishings elegant, theappointments modern and complete. She could not suppress a longbreath of surprise and relief: it was no easy matter to convinceherself that she was not in some fastidious English home. Despitethe fearful journey, ending in the perilous ascent over rocks andgullies, she felt herself glowing with the belief that she was stillin Brussels, or, at the worst, in Liege. Her amazement on findingher own trunk and the garments she had left in her chamber the nightbefore was so great that her troubled, bewildered mind raced back tothe days when she marvelled over Aladdin's wonderful lamp and thegenii. How could they have secured her dresses? But how couldanything be impossible to these masters in crime? Once when her eyesfell upon the dark windows a wistful, eager expression came intothem. The maid observed the look, and smiled. 

"It is fully fifty feet to the ground, " she said, simply. MissGarrison sighed and then smiled resignedly. 

Worn out in body and mind, she sank into sleep even while themighty, daring resolve to rush over and throw herself from thewindow was framing itself in her brain. The resolve was madesuddenly, considered briefly and would have been acted onprecipitously had not the drowsy, lazy influence of slumber bade herto wait a minute, then another minute, another and another, andthen--to forget. 

Sunlight streamed into the room when she opened her eyes, and for afew minutes she was in a state of uncanny perplexity. Where was she?In whose bed--then she remembered. With the swiftness of a cat sheleft the bed and flew to the window to look out upon--space atfirst, then the trees and rocks below. The ground seemed a milebelow the spot on which she stood. Gasping with dread she shrankback and covered her eyes with her tense fingers. 

"Are you ready for me, Miss?" asked a soft voice from somewhere, andDorothy whirled to face the maid. Her throat choked, her eyes filledwith tears of the reawakening, her heart throbbed so faintly thather hand went forth to find support. The little maid put her strong, gentle arm about the trembling girl and drew her again to the bed"They are expecting you down to breakfast, but I was instructed notto hurry you, Miss. "

"To breakfast?" gasped Dorothy, staring at the girl as if her eyeswould pop out. "Wha--what! The impudence!"

"But you must eat, you know. "

"With--with these despicable wretches? Never! I will starve first!Go away from me! I do not need you. I want to be alone, absolutelyalone. Do you hear?" She violently shoved the girl away from her, but the friendly smile did not leave the latter's face. 

"When you need me, Miss, I am in the next room, " she said, calmly, and was gone. Anger, pure and simple, brought sobs from the veryheart of the girl who lay face downward on the crumpled bed. 

A new impulse inspired her to call sharply to the maid, and a momentlater she was hastily, nervously, defiantly preparing herself toface the enemy and--breakfast. Tingling with some trepidation andsome impatience, she led the maid through a strenuous half-hour. What with questions, commands, implorings, reprimands, complaintsand fault findings, the poor girl had a sad time of it. When at lastMiss Garrison stood ready to descend upon the foe she was thepicture of defiance. With a steady stride she followed the maid tothe door. Just as it was opened a strong, rollicking baritone voicecame ringing through the halls attuned in song:

"In the days of old when knights were bold, And barons held theirsway, " etc. 

Dorothy stopped stockstill in the doorway, completely overwhelmed. She turned helplessly to the maid, tried to gasp the question thatfilled her mind, and then leaned weakly against the wall. Thesinger's voice grew suddenly fainter with the slam of a door, andwhile its music could still be heard distinctly, she knew that he ofthe merry tones had left the lower hallway. Feebly she began towonder what manner of men these thieves could be, these miscreantswho lived in a castle, who had lady's maids about them, who sang incheery tones and who knew neither fear nor caution. 

"One of the new guests who came last night, " explained the maid, unconcernedly. 

"One who came--who came with me? O, how can such a wretch sing sogayly? Have they been drinking all night?" cried Dorothy, shrinkingback into the room. 

"Lor', no, Miss, there can't be any such goings on as that here. Ithink they are waiting for you in the breakfast room, " said thegirl, starting down the broad steps. 

"I'd sooner die than venture among those ruffians!"

"But the ladies are expecting you. "

"Ladies! Here?" gasped Dorothy. 

"Yes, Miss; why not?"

Dorothy's head whirled again. In a dazed sort of way she glanceddown at her morning gown, her mind slowly going back to theglittering costume she had worn the night before. Was it all adream? Scarcely knowing what she did, she followed the girl down thesteps, utterly without purpose, drawn as by some strange subtleforce to the terminal point in the mystery. 

Through the dimly-lighted hall she passed with heart throbbingwildly, expecting she knew not what. Her emotions as she approachedthe door she could have never told, so tumultuously were theysurging one upon the other. The maid grasped the huge knob and swungwide the door, from whose threshold she was to look upon a picturethat would linger in her mind to the end of time. 

A great sunlit room; a long table and high-backed Flemish chairs; abewildering group of men and women; a chorus of friendly voices; andthen familiar faces began to stand out plainly before her eyes. 

Lady Saxondale was advancing toward the door with outstretched handsand smiling face. Over her shoulder the dumbfounded girl saw LadyJane Oldham, Saxondale, happy faced Dickey Savage and--PhilipQuentin!

XXII

CASTLE CRANEYCROW

Dorothy staggered into the arms of Lady Saxondale, choking with ajoy that knew no bounds, stupefied past all power of understanding. She only saw and knew that she was safe, that some strange miraclehad been wrought and that there were no terrible, cruel-heartedrobbers in sight. It was some time before she could utter a word tothose who stood about eagerly--anxiously--watching the play ofemotions in her face. 

"O, you will never know how glorious you all look to me. How is itthat I am here? Where are those awful men? What has happened to me, Lady Saxondale, tell me? I cannot breathe till everything isexplained to me, " she cried, her voice trembling with gladness. Inher vast exuberance she found strength and with it the desire toembrace all these good friends. Her ecstatic exhibition of joy lostits violence after she had kissed and half crushed Lady Jane and hadgrasped both of Lord Bob's big hands convulsively. The young mencame in for a much more formal and decorous greeting. For an instantshe found herself looking into Quentin's eyes, as he clasped herhand, and there was a strange light in them--a bright, eager, victorious gleam which puzzled her not a little. "O, tell me allabout it! Please do! I've been through such a terrible experience. Can it be true that I am really here with you?"

"You certainly are, my dear, " said Lady Saxondale, smiling at her, then glancing involuntarily into the faces of the others, a queerexpression in her eyes. 

"Where is mamma? I must go to her at once, Lady Saxondale. Thewretches were so cruel to her and to poor Uncle Henry--good heavens!Tell me! They did not--did not kill her!" She clutched at the backof a chair and--grasped Quentin's arm as it swept forward to keepher from falling. 

"Your mother is safe and well, " cried Lady Saxondale, quickly. "Sheis in Brussels, however, and not here, Dorothy. "

"And where am I? Are you telling the truth? Is she truly safe andwell? Then, why isn't she here?" she cried, uneasily, apprehensively. 

"It takes a long story, Miss Garrison, " said Lord Bob, soberly. "Ithink you would better wait till after breakfast for the full story, so far as it is known to us. You'll feel better and I know you mustbe as hungry as a bear. "

There was a troubled, uncertain pucker to her brow, a pleading lookin her eyes as she suffered herself to be led to a chair near theend of the table. It had not struck her as odd that the others weredeplorably devoid of the fervor that should have manifested itself, in words, at least. There was an air of restraint almost oppressive, but she failed to see it, and it was not long until it was socleverly succeeded by a genial warmth of manner that she never knewthe severity of the strain upon the spirits of that small company. 

Suddenly she half started from the chair, her gaze fastened onQuentin's face. He read the question in her eyes and answered beforeshe could frame it into words. 

"I did not sail for New York, at all, " he said, with an assumptionof ease he did not feel. "Dickey and I accepted Lord Saxondale'spressing invitation to stop off with them for awhile. I don't wonderthat you are surprised to find us here. "

"I am not surprised at anything now, " she said in perplexed tones. "But we are not in England; we were not on the water. And all thosetrees and hills and rocks I saw from the window--where are we?"

"In the grimmest, feudliest, ghastliest old place between Brusselsand Anthony Hope's domain. This is Castle Craneycrow; a real, livecastle with parapets, bastions, traditions and, I insist--thoughthey won't believe me--snakes and mice and winged things thatscreech and yowl. " So spoke Lady Jane, eagerly. Miss Garrison wasforgetting to eat in her wonder, and Mr. Savage was obliged toremind her that "things get cold mighty quick in these baronialice-houses. "

"I know it's a castle, but where is it located? And how came youhere?"

"That's it, " quoth Mr. Savage, serenely. "How came we here? I repeatthe question and supply the answer. We came by the grace of God andmore or less luck. "

"O, I'll never understand it at all, " complained Dorothy, indespair. "Now, you must answer my questions, one by one, LordSaxondale. To whom does the castle belong?"

"To the Earl of Saxondale, ma'am. "

"Then, I know where it is. This is the old place in Luxemburg youwere telling me about. "

"That isn't a question, but you are right. "

"But how is it that I am here?"

"You can answer that question better than I, Miss Garrison. "

"I only know those wretches--the one who disguised himself as myfather and the one who tried to be my mother--jostled me till I washalf dead and stopped eventually at the doors--O, O, O!" she brokeoff, in startled tones, dropping her fork. "They--they did notreally bring me here--to your house, did they?"

"They were good enough to turn you over to our keeping last night, and we are overjoyed to have you here. "

"Then, " she exclaimed, tragically, rising to her feet, "where arethe men who brought me here?" A peculiar and rather mirthless smilepassed from one to the other of her companions and it angered her. "I demand an explanation, Lord Saxondale. "

"I can give none, Miss Garrison, upon my soul. It is very far fromclear to me. You were brought to my doors last night, and I pledgemyself to protect you with my life. No harm shall come to you here, and at the proper time I am sure everything will be made clear toyou, and you will be satisfied. Believe me, you are among yourdearest friends--" "Dearest friends!" she cried, bitterly. "Youinsult me by running away from my wedding, you league yourselveswith the fiends who committed the worst outrage that men everconceived, and now you hold me here a--a prisoner! Yes, a prisoner!I do not forget the words of the maid who attended me; I do notforget the inexplicable presence of my traveling clothes in thishouse, and I shall never forget that my abductors came direct toyour castle, wherever it may be. Do you mean to say that theybrought me here without an understanding with you? Oh! I see it allnow! You--you perpetrated this outrage!"

"On the contrary, Miss Garrison, I am the meekest and lowliest ofEnglish squires, and I am in no way leagued with a band of robbers. Perhaps, if you will wait a little while, Lady Saxondale may throwsome light on the mystery that puzzles you. You surely will trustLady Saxondale. "

"Lady Saxondale did me the honor to command me to give up PrinceRavorelli. I am not married to him and I am here, in her home, aprisoner, " said Dorothy, scornfully. "I do not understand why I amhere and I do not know that you are my friends. Everything is soqueer, so extraordinary that I don't know how to feel toward you. When you satisfactorily explain it all to me, I may be able toforget the feeling I have for you now and once more regard you asfriends. It is quite clear to me that I am not to have the privilegeof quitting the castle without your consent; I acknowledge myself aprisoner and await your pleasure. You will find me in the room towhich you sent me last night. I cannot sit at your table, feelingthat you are not my friends; I should choke with every mouthful. "

No one sought to bar her way from the dining-room. Perhaps no onethere felt equal to the task of explaining, on the moment, theintricacies of a very unusual transaction, for no one had quiteexpected the bolt to fall so sharply. She paced the floor of herroom angrily, bewailing the fate that brought her to this fortressamong the rocks. Time after time she paused at the lofty windows tolook upon the trees, the little river and the white roadbed farbelow. There was no escape from this isolated pile of stone; she wasconfined as were Bluebeard's victims in the days of giants and ogresand there were no fairy queens to break down the walls and set herfree. Each thought left the deeper certainty that the people in theroom below were banded against her. An hour later, Lady Saxondalefound her, her flushed face pressed to the window pane that lookeddown upon the world as if out of the sky. 

"I suppose, Lady Saxondale, you are come to assure me again that Iam perfectly safe in your castle, " said the prisoner, turning at thesound of her ladyship's voice. 

"I have come to tell you the whole story, from your wedding to thepresent moment. Nothing is to be hidden from you, my dear MissGarrison. You may not now consider us your friends, but some day youwill look back and be thankful we took such desperate, dangerousmeans to protect you, " said Lady Saxondale, coming to the window. Dorothy's eyes were upon the outside world and they were dark andrebellious. The older woman complacently stationed herself besidethe girl and for a few moments neither spoke. 

"I am ready to hear what you have to say, " came at last from MissGarrison. 

"It is not necessary to inform you that you were abducted--"

"Not in the least! The memory of the past two days is vivid enough, "said Miss Garrison, with cutting irony in her voice. 

"But it may interest you to know the names of your abductors, " saidthe other, calmly. 

"I could not miss them far in guessing, Lady Saxondale. "

"It was necessary for some one to deliver you from the villain youwere to marry, by the most effective process. There is but oneperson in all this world who cares enough for you to undertake thestupendous risk your abduction incurred. You need not be told hisname. "

"You mean, " said Dorothy, scarcely above a whisper, "that PhilipQuentin planned and executed this crime?"

Lady Saxondale nodded. 

"And I am his prisoner?" breathlessly. "You are under hisprotection; that is all. "

"Do you call it protection to--" began Dorothy, her eyes blazing, but Lady Saxondale interrupted firmly. 

"You are his prisoner, then, and we are your jailers. Have it as youwill. "

Lady Saxondale proceeded to relate the history of Philip Quentin'sachievement. Instead of sailing for New York, he surrendered to hisoverpowering love and fell to work perfecting the preposterous planthat had come to him as a vision in the final hour of despair. Therewas but little time in which to act, and there was stubbornopposition to fight against. The Saxondales were the only persons towhom he could turn, and not until after he had fairly fought them toearth did they consent to aid him in the undertaking. There remainedto perform, then, the crowning act in this apparently insanetransaction. The stealing of a woman on whom the eyes of all theworld seemed riveted was a task that might well confound thestrategy of the most skillful general, but it did not worry thedetermined American. 

Wisely he chose the wedding day as the best on which to carry outhis project. The hulla-balloo that would follow the nonappearance ofthe bride would throw the populace and the authorities into a stateof confusion that might last for hours. Before they could settledown to a systematic search, the bold operator would be safely inthe last place they would suspect, an English lord's playhouse inthe valley of the Alzette. Nothing but the most audacious daringcould hope to win in such an undertaking. When Mrs. Garrison'scoachman and footman came forth in all their august splendor on thenight of the wedding, they were pounced upon by three men, overpowered, bound and locked in a small room in the stables. One ofthe desperadoes calmly approached the servants' quarters, presenteda bold face (covered with whiskers), and said he had come for MissGarrison's trunks. Almost insane with the excitement of theoccasion, the servants not only escorted him to the bride's room, but assisted him in carrying two trunks downstairs. He was shrewdenough to ascertain which trunk was most needed, and it was throwninto a buggy and driven away by one of the trio. 

When the carriage stopped for the first time to permit the maskedman to thrust his revolver into the faces of the occupants, thetrunk was jerked from that same buggy and thrown to the boot of thelarger vehicle. Of course, having absolute control of the carriage, it was no trick, if luck attended, for the new coachman and footmanto drive away with the unsuspecting bride and her companions. It isonly the ridiculously improbable projects that are successful, ithas been said. Certainly it was proven in this case. It is notnecessary to tell the full story, except to say that the masked manwho appeared at the carriage door in the little side street wasQuentin; that the foot-man was Dickey Savage, the driver Turk. Inthe exchange of clothing with the deposed servants of Mrs. Garrison, however, Turk fell into a suit of livery big enough for two men ofhis stature. 

The deserted house was beyond the city limits, and had been locatedthe day before by Turk, whose joy in being connected with such agame was boundless. Other disguises, carefully chosen, helped themon to the Grand Duchy, Quentin as the gray-bearded man, Savage asthe old woman. The suffering of Dorothy Garrison during that wildnight and day was the only thing that wrung blood from theconsciences of these ruthless dare-devils. Philip Quentin, it mustbe said, lived years of agony and remorse while carrying out hispart of the plan. How the plot was carried to the stage where itbecame Lady Saxondale's duty to acquaint Dorothy Garrison with thefull particulars, the reader knows. It only remains to say that goodfortune favored the conspirators at every turn, and that theycovered their tracks with amazing effectiveness. Utterly cut offfrom the eyes of the world, the captive found herself powerless tocommunicate with the hysterical people who were seeking her in everyspot save the right one. 

"Now that you have finished this remarkable story and have pleadedso prettily for him, may I ask just what Mr. Quentin expects of me?"asked Dorothy, cold, calm, and entirely the mistress of herself andthe million emotions that Lady Saxondale's disclosures aroused. 

"He expects you to give him your heart, " said her ladyship, slowly. Dorothy fell back against the wall, aghast, overcome by thiscrowning piece of audacity. 

"Dorothy, a week ago you loved Phil Quentin; even when you steppedinside the carriage that was to take you to the altar you loved himbetter--''

"I did not! I hate him!" cried Dorothy. 

"Perhaps, now, but let me ask you this question: When you were beingdragged away by those three men, when they were putting miles andmiles between you and your friends, of whom were you thinking? Ah, your face, your eyes betray you!--You were thinking of PhilipQuentin, not of Ugo Ravorelli. You were praying that one strong armmight come to your relief, you knew but one man in all the world whohad the courage, the love, the power to rescue you. Last night, whenyou entered this dismal place, you wondered if Philip Quentin--yes, Philip Quentin--could break down the doors and save you. And thenyou remembered that he could not help you, for you had thrown asidehis love, had driven him away. Listen! Don't deny it, for I am awoman and I know! This morning you looked from yon window and yourheart sank with despair. Then, forgetful again, your eye swept theroad in the hope of seeing--of seeing, whom? But one man was in yourmind, Dorothy Garrison, and he was on the ocean. When you came intothe breakfast room, whose face was it that sent the thrill to yourheart? Whose presence was it that told you your prayers had beenanswered? Whom did you look upon as your savior, your rescuer? Thatbig American, who loves you better than life. Philip Quentin hadsaved you from the brigands, and you loved him for it. Now, DorothyGarrison, you hate him because he saved you from a worsefate--marriage with the most dissolute hypocrite in Europe, the mostcunning of all adventurers. You are not trying to check the tearsthat blind your eyes; but you will not confess to me that your tearscome from a heart full of belief in the man who loves you deeplyenough to risk his honor and his life to save you from endlessmisery. Lie where you are, on this couch, Dorothy, and just think ofit all--think of Phil. "

When Dorothy raised her wet eyes from the cushion in which they hadbeen buried, Lady Saxondale was gone. 

Philip Quentin stood in the doorway. 

XXIII

HIS ONLY

In an instant she was on her feet and struggling to suppress thesobs that had been wrung from her by the words of Lady Saxondale. 

"Dorothy, " said Quentin, his voice tender and pleading, "you haveheard what Lady Saxondale had to say?"

She was now standing at the window, her back to him, her figurestraight and defiant, her hands clenched in the desperate effort toregain her composure. 

"Yes, " she responded, hoarsely. 

"I have not come to ask your pardon for my action, but to imploreyou to withhold judgment against the others. I alone am to blame;they are as loyal to you as they have been to me. Whatever hatredyou may have in your heart, I deserve it. Spare the others a singlereproach, for they were won to my cause only after I had convincedthem that they were serving you, not me. You are with true friends, the best that man or woman could have. I have not come to make anyappeal for myself. There will be time enough for that later on, whenyou have come to realize what your deliverance means. "

She faced him, slowly, a steady calm in her face, a soft intensityin her voice. 

"You need not hope that I shall forgive this outrage--ever--as longas I live. You may have had motives which from your point of viewwere good and justifiable--but you must not expect me to agree withyou. You have done something that no love on earth could obliterate;you have robbed my memory of a sweet confidence, of the one gloriousthing that made me look upon you as the best of men--your nobility. I recognize you as the leader in this cowardly conspiracy, but whatmust I think of these willing tools you plead for? Are they entitledto my respect any more than you? I am in your power. You can andwill do with me as you like, but you cannot compel me to alter thatover which I have no control--my reason. Oh, how could you do thisdreadful thing, Phil?" she cried, suddenly casting the forcedreserve to the winds and relapsing into a very undignified appeal. He smiled wearily and met her gaze with one in which no irresolutionflickered. 

"It was my only way, " he said, at last. 

"The only way!" she exclaimed. "There was but one way, and I hadcommanded you to take it. Do you expect to justify yourself bysaying it was the 'only way'? To drag me from my mother, to destroyevery vestige of confidence I had in you, to make me the mosttalked-of woman in Europe to-day--was that the 'only way'? What arethey doing and saying to-day? Of what are the newspapers talkingunder those horrid headlines? What are the police, the detectives, the gossips doing? I am the object on which their every thought iscentered. Oh, it is maddening to think of what you, of all people, have heaped upon me!"

She paced the floor like one bereft of reason. His heart smote himas he saw the anguish he had brought into the soul of the girl heloved better than everything. 

"And my poor mother. What of her? Have you no pity, no heart? Don'tyou see that it will kill her? For God's sake, let me go back toher, Phil! Be merciful!" she cried. 

"She is safe and well, Dorothy; I swear it on my soul. True, shesuffers, but it is better she should suffer now and find joyafterward than to see you suffer for a lifetime. You would notlisten to me when I told you the man you were to marry was ascoundrel. There was but one way to save you from him and fromyourself; there was but one way to save you for myself, and I tookit. I could not and would not give you up to that villain. I loveyou, Dorothy; you cannot doubt that, even though you hate me forproving it to you. Everything have I dared, to save you and to winyou--to make you gladly say some day that you love me. "

Her eyes blazed with scorn. "Love you? After what you have done? Oh, that I could find words to tell you how I hate you!" She stopped infront of him, her white face and gleaming eyes almost on a levelwith his, and he could not but quail before the bitter loathing thatrevealed itself so plainly. Involuntarily his hand went forth insupplication, and the look in his eyes came straight from the depthsinto which despair had cast him. If she saw the pain in his face heroutraged sensibilities refused to recognize it. 

"Dorothy, you--you--" he began, but pulled himself together quickly"I did not come in the hope of making you look at things through myeyes. It is my mission to acknowledge as true, all that LadySaxondale has told you concerning my culpability. I alone am guiltyof wrong, and I am accountable. If we are found out, I have plannedcarefully to protect my friends. Yet a great deal rests with you. When the law comes to drag me from this place, its officers willfind me alone, with you here as my accuser. My friends will haveescaped. They are your friends as well as mine. You will do themthejustice of accusing but me, for I alone am the criminal. "

"You assume a great deal when you d ctate what I am to do and tosay, if I have the opportunity. They are as guilty as you, andwithout an incentive. Do you imagine that I shall shield them? Ihave no more love for them than I have for you; not half therespect, for you, at least, have been consistent. Will you answerone question?"

"Certainly. "

"How long do you purpose to keep me in this place?"

"Until you, of your own free will, can utter three simple words. "

"And those words?"

"I love you. "

"Then, " she said, slowly, decisively, "I am doomed to remain hereuntil death releases me. "

"Yes; the death of ambition. "

She turned from him with a bitter laugh, seating herself in a chairnear the window. Looking up into his face, she said, with maddeningsubmission:

"I presume your daily visits are to be a part of the torture I am toendure?"

His smile, as he shook his head in response, incensed her to thepoint of tears, and she was vastly relieved when he turned abruptlyand left the apartment. When the maid came in she found MissGarrison asleep on the couch, her cheeks stained with tears. Tired, despairing, angry, she had found forgetfulness for the while. Sleepsat lightly upon her troubled brain, however, for the almostnoiseless movements of the maid awakened her and she sat up with astart. 

"Oh, it is you!" she said, after a moment. "What is your name?'

"Baker, Miss. "

The captive sat on the edge of the couch and for many minuteswatched, through narrow eyes, the movements of the servant. A planwas growing in her brain, and she was contemplating the situation ina new and determined frame of mind. 

"Baker, " she said, finally, "come here. " The maid stood before her, attentively. 

''Would you like to earn a thousand pounds?" Without the faintestshow of emotion, the least symptom of eagerness, Baker answered inthe affirmative "Then you have but to serve me as I command, and themoney is yours. "

"I have already been instructed to serve you, Miss. "

"I don't mean for you to dress my hair and to fasten my gown and allthat. Get me out of this place and to my friends. That is what Imean, " whispered Dorothy, eagerly. 

"You want to buy me, Miss?' said Baker, calmly. 

"Not that, quite, Baker, but just--"

"You will not think badly of me if I cannot listen to your offer, Miss? I am to serve you here, and I want you to like me, but Icannot do what you would ask. Pardon me if I speak plainly, but Icannot be bought. " There was no mistaking the honest expression inthe maid's eyes. "Lady Saxondale is my mistress, and I love her. Ifshe asks me to take you to your friends, I will obey. "

Dorothy's lips parted and a look of incredulity grew in her eyes. For a moment she stared with unconcealed wonder upon this unusualgirl, and then wonder slowly changed to admiration. 

"Would that all maids were as loyal, Baker. Lady Saxondale trustsyou and so shall I. But, " wonder again manifesting itself, "I cannotunderstand such fidelity. Not for £5, 000?"

"No, Miss; thank you, " respectfully and firmly. 

"Ask Lady Saxondale if I may come to her. "

The maid departed, and soon returned to say that Lady Saxondalewould gladly see her. Dorothy followed her down the long, dark halland into the boudoir of Castle Craneycrow's mistress. Lady Jane saton the broad window seat, looking pensively out at the blue sky. There was in the room such an air of absolute peace and securitythat Dorothy's heart gave a sharp, wistful throb. 

"I'm glad you've come, Dorothy, " said Lady Saxondale, approachingfrom the shadowy side of the room. Dorothy turned to see the handsof her ladyship extended as if calling her to friendly embrace. Fora moment she looked into the clear, kindly eyes of the older woman, and then, overcome by a strange, inexplicable longing for love andsympathy, dropped her hands into those which were extended. 

"I've come to beg, Lady Saxondale--to beg you to be kind to me, tohave pity for my mother. I can ask no more, " she said, simply. 

"I love you, dear; we all love you. Be content for a little while, alittle while, and then you will thank Heaven and thank us. "

"I demand that you release me, " cried the other. "You are committinga crime against all justice. Release me, and I promise to forget thepart you are taking in this outrage. Trust me to shield you andyours absolutely. "

"You ask me to trust you. Now, I ask you to trust me. Trust me toshield you and to--"

"You are cruel!"

"Forgive me, " said Lady Saxondale, simply. She pressed the handswarmly, and passed from the room. Dorothy felt her head reel, andthere was in her heart the dread of losing something precious, sheknew not what. 

"Come up into the tower with me, Dorothy, " said Lady Jane, coming toher side, her voice soft and entreating. "The view is grand. Mr. Savage and I were there early this morning to see the sun rise. "

"Are you all against me? Even you, Lady Jane? Oh, how have I wrongedyou that I should be made to suffer so at your hands? Yes, yes! Takeme to the tower! I can't stay here. "

"I shall ask Mr. Savage to go with us. He will hold you. It would betoo bad to have you try to fly from up there, because it's a longway to the crags, and you'd never fly again--in this world, atleast. I believe I'll call Dickey, to be on the safe side. "

There was something so merry, so free and unrestrained about herthat Dorothy smiled in spite of herself. With a new sensation in herheart, she followed her guide to the top of the broad stairway. Hereher ladyship paused, placed two pink fingers between her teeth, andsent a shrill whistle sounding down between the high walls. 

"All right!" came a happy voice from below. There was a scramble offeet, two or three varied exclamations in masculine tones, and thenMr. Savage came bounding up the stairs. "Playing chess with yourbrother and had to break up the game. When duty calls, you know. Morning, Miss Garrison. What's up?"

"We're just on the point of going up, " said Jane, sweetly. "Up inthe tower. Miss Garrison wants to see how far she can fly. "

"About 800 feet, I should say, Miss Garrison. It's quite a drop tothe rocks down there. Well, we're off to the top of Craneycrow. Isn't that a jolly old name?"

"Chick o' me, Chick o' me, Craneycrow, Went to the well to wash hertoe, When she got back her chicken was dead--chick o' me, Chick o'me, chop off his head--What time is it, old witch?"

"Who gave the castle such an odd, uncanny name?" asked Dorothy, under the spell of their blithesome spirits. 

"Lady Jane--the young lady on your left, an' may it please you, Miss, " said Dickey. 

"Bob couldn't think of a name for the old thing, so he commissionedme. Isn't Craneycrow delightful? Crane--that's a bird, you know, andcrow is another bird, too, you know; isn't it a joy? I'm so proud ofit, " cried Lady Jane, as she scurried up the narrow, winding stonesteps that led to the top of the tower. Dorothy followed moresedately, the new-born smile on her lips, the excitement of a newemotion surging over the wall of anger she had thrown up againstthese people. 

"I wish I could go out and explore the hills and rocks about thisplace, " said Dickey, wistfully. 

"Why can't you? Is it dangerous?" queried Dorothy. 

"Heavens, no! Perfectly safe in that respect. Oh, I forgot; youdon't know, of course. Phil Quentin and your devoted servant are notpermitted to show their faces outside these walls. "

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you see, we're in America. Don't you understand? You're notthe only prisoner, Miss Garrison. Behold two bold, bad bandits asyour fellow captives. Alas! that I should have come to the cruelprison cell!"

"I had not thought of that, " said Miss Garrison, reflectively, andthen she looked upon Dickey with a new interest. They crawledthrough the trap door and out upon the stone-paved, airy crown ofthe tower. She uttered an exclamation of awe and shrank back fromthe sky that seemed to press down upon her. Nothing but sky--bluesky! Then she peered over the low wall, down upon the rocks below, and shuddered. 

"Hello, Phil! Great, isn't it?" exclaimed Dickey, and Dorothyrealized that Quentin was somewhere behind her in the littlerock-bound circle among the clouds. A chill fell upon her heart, andshe would not turn toward the man whose very name brought rage toher heart. 

"Magnificent! I have been up here in the sun and the gale for halfan hour. Here are the newspapers, Lady Jane; Bob's man brought theman hour ago. There is something in them that will interest you, Dorothy. Pardon me, but I must go down. And don't fall off thetower, Lady Jane. "

"Don't worry, grandfather; I'll be a good little girl and I shan'tfall off the tower, because I'm so afraid you'd find it out and beatme and send me to bed without my supper. Won't you stay up just awee bit longer?"

"Now, don't coax, little girl. I must go down. "

"See you later, " Dickey called after him as he disappeared throughthe narrow opening. Dorothy turned her stony face slightly, andquick, angry eyes looked for an instant into the upturned face ofthe man who was swallowed in the darkness of the trap hole almost inthe same second. 

"Don't fall off the tower, Lady Jane, " came the hollow voice fromthe ladders far below, and, to Dorothy's sensitive ears, there wasthe most devilish mockery in the tones. 

"I can forgive all of you--all of you, but--but--never that inhumanwretch! Oh, how I hate him!" cried she, her face ablaze, her voicetrembling with passion. 

"Oh, Dorothy!" cried Lady Jane, softly, imploringly. 

"I wish from my soul, that this tower might tumble down and kill himthis instant, and that his bones could never be found!" wailed theother. 

"There's an awful weight above him, Miss Garrison--the weight ofyour wrath, " said Dickey, without a smile. 

XXIV

THE WHITE FLAG

After returning to her room later on, Dorothy eagerly devoured thecontents of the newspapers, which were a day or two old. Theydevoted columns to the great abduction mystery; pictured the griefof the mother and marvelled at her courage and fortitude; traced thebrigands over divers streets to the deserted house; gave interviewswith the bride's fiance, her uncle and the servants who were foundin the stables; speculated on the designs of the robbers, theirwhereabouts and the nature of their next move; drew vivid andterrifying visions of the lovely bride lying in some wretched cave, hovel or cellar, tortured and suffering the agony of the damned. Opinions of police officers disclosed some astonishing solutions tothe mystery, but, withal, there was a tone of utter bewilderment inthe situation as they pictured it. She read the long and valiantdeclaration of Prince Ugo Ravorelli, the frantic, broken-heartedbridegroom, in which he swore to rescue the fair one from thedastards, "whoever and wherever they might be. " Somehow, to her, hiswords, in cold print, looked false, artificial, theatrical--anythingbut brave and convincing. 

She stared in amazement at the proclamation offering 100, 000 francsfor her restoration. The general opinion, however, was that theabductors might reasonably be expected to submit a proposition togive up their prize for not less than twice the amount. To a man thepolice maintained that Miss Garrison was confined somewhere in thecity of Brussels. There were, with the speculations and conjectures, no end of biographical sketches and portraits. She found herselfreading with a sort of amused interest the story of how one of themaids had buckled her satin slippers, another had dressed her hair, another had done something and another something else. It was allvery entertaining, in spite of the conditions that made the storiespossible. But what amused her most of all were the wild guesses asto her present whereabouts. There was a direful unanimity of opinionthat she was groveling in her priceless wedding-gown on the floor ofsome dark, filthy cellar. The papers vividly painted her as haggard, faint, despairing of succor, beating her breast and tearing herbeautiful hair in the confines of a foul-smelling hole in theground, crying for help in tones that would melt a heart of stone, and guarded by devils in the guise of men. 

Then she came to the paragraph which urged the utmost punishmentthat law could inflict upon the desperadoes. The outraged populacecould be appeased with nothing save death in its most ignominious, inglorious form. The trials would be short, the punishment swift andsure. The people demanded the lives of the villains. 

For a long time she sat with expressionless eyes, staring at thewall opposite, thinking of the five persons who kept her a prisoner, thinking of the lives the people longed to take, thinking of death. Death to pretty Lady Jane, to Lady Saxondale, to Lord Bob, to DickeySavage--the hunted--and to Philip Quentin, the arch conspirator! Tokill them, to butcher them, to tear them to pieces--that was what itmeant, if they were taken before the maddened people. When Bakerbrought in the tea, Dorothy was shivering as one with a chill, andthere was a new terror in her soul. What if they were taken? Couldshe endure the thought that death was sure to come to them, or totwo of 'them, at least? Two of the men? Two Americans?

During the next three days she refused to leave her room, coldlydeclining the cordial invitations to make one of a very merry houseparty, as Lady Jane called it. Her meals were sent to her room, andBaker was her constant attendant. Into her cheek came the dull whiteof loneliness and despair, into her eye the fever of unrest. Thevisits met with disdain, and gradually they became less frequent. Onthe third day of this self-inflicted separation she sat alone fromearly morn until dusk without the first sign of a visit from eitherLady Saxondale or Lady Jane. 

All day long she had been expecting them, and now she was beginningto hunger for them. A ridiculous, inconsistent irritation had beenbuilding itself in her heart since midday, and at dusk it reachedits limit in unmistakable rage. That they might be willing to ignoreher entirely had not entered her mind before. Her heart was verybitter toward the disagreeable creatures who left her alone all dayin a stuffy room, and in a most horrid temper to boot. 

From below, at different times during the afternoon, came the happylaughter of men and women, rollicking songs, the banging of a pianoin tantalizing "rag-time" by strong New York fingers, the soft boomof a Chinese dinner gong and--oh! it was maddening to sit away upthere and picture the heartless joy that reigned below. When Bakerleft the room, Dorothy, like a guilty child, sneaked--actuallysneaked--to the hall door, opened it softly, and listened withwrathful longing to the signs of life and good cheer that came toher ears. Desolate, dispirited, hungry for the companionship of eventhieves and robbers, she dragged herself to the broad window andlooked darkly down upon the green and gray world. 

Her pride was having a mighty battle. For three long days had shemaintained a stubborn resistance to all the allurements they couldoffer; she had been strong and steadfast to her purpose until thishour came to make her loneliness almost unendurable--the hour whenshe saw they were mean enough to pay her in the coin of her ownmaking. Now she was crying for them to come and lift the pall ofsolitude, to brighten the world for her, to drive the deadlysickness out of her heart. They had ignored her for a whole day, because, she was reasonable enough to see, they felt she did notwant them to be near her. Would they never come to her again? Pridewas commanding her to scorn them forever, but a lonely heart wasbegging for fellowship. 

"Baker!" she called, suddenly, turning from the window, her faceaglow, her breath coming fast, her heart bounding with a newresolution--or the breaking of an old one. Baker did not respond atonce, and the now thoroughly aroused young lady hurried impatientlyto the bedchamber in quest of her. The maid was seated in a window, with ears as deaf as a stone, reading the harrowing news from thelatest newspaper than had come to Castle Craneycrow. Dorothy hadread every line of the newest developments, and had laughedscornfully over the absurd clews the police were following. She hadbeen seen simultaneously in Liverpool and in London and in Paris andin Brussels. And by reputable witnesses, too. 

"Baker!"

"Yes, Miss, " and the paper rattled to the floor, for there was a newtone in the voice that called to her. 

"You may go to Lady Saxondale and say that I accept yesterday'sinvitation to dine with her and Lord Saxondale. "

"Yesterday's invitation--you mean to-day's, Miss--" in bewilderedtones. 

"I mean yesterday's, Baker. You forget that I have no invitation forto-day. Tell her that Miss Garrison will be delighted to dine withher. "

Baker flew out of the room and downstairs with the message, thepurport of which did not sift through her puzzled head until LadySaxondale smiled and instructed her to inform Miss Garrison that shewould be charmed to have her dine with her both yesterday andto-day. 

In the meantime Dorothy was reproaching herself for her weakness insurrendering. She would meet Quentin, perhaps be placed beside him. While she could not or would not speak to him, the situation wassure to be uncomfortable. And they would think she was giving in tothem, and he would think she was giving in to him--and--but anythingwas better than exile. 

While standing at the window awaiting Baker's return, her gaze fellupon a solitary figure, trudging along the white, snake-like road, far down among the foothills--the figure of a priest in his longblack robe. He was the first man she had seen on the road, and shewatched him with curious, speculative eyes. 

"A holy priest, " she was thinking; "the friend of all in distress. Why not he? Would he, could he help me? Oh, good father, if youcould but hear me, if I could but reach your ears! How far away heis, what a little speck he seems away down there! Why, I believe heis--yes, he is looking up at the castle. Can he see me? But, pshaw!How could he know that I am held here against my will? Even if hesees my handkerchief, how can he know that I want him to help me?"She was waving her handkerchief to the lonely figure in the road. Toher amazement he paused, apparently attracted by the signal. For abrief instant he gazed upward, then dropped his cowled head andmoved slowly away. She watched him until the trees of the valley hidhis form from view, and she was alone with the small hope that hemight again some day pass over the lonely road and understand. 

When the dinner gong rang, she was ready to face the party, butthere was a lively thumping in her breast as she made her way downthe steps. At the bottom she was met by Lady Saxondale, and arnoment later Lord Bob carne up, smiling and good-natured. There wasa sudden rush of warmth to her heart, the bubbling over of somequeer emotion, and she was wringing their hands with a gladness shecould not conceal. 

"I am so lonely up there, Lady Saxondale, " she said, simply, unreservedly. 

"Try to look upon us as friends, Dorothy; trust us, and you willfind more happiness here than you suspect. Castle Craneycrow wasborn and went to ruin in the midst of feud and strife; it hasoutlived its feudal days, so let there be no war between us, " saidher ladyship, earnestly. 

"If we must live together within its battered walls, let us hoist aflag of truce, pick up the gauntlet and tie up the dogs of war, "added bluff Lord Bob. 

Dorothy smiled, and said: "There is one here who is not and cannever be included in our truce. I ask you to protect me from him. That is the one condition I impose. "

"You have no enemies here, my dear. "

"But I have a much too zealous friend. "

"Last call for dinner in the dining-car, " shouted Dickey Savage, corning down the stairs hurriedly. "I was afraid I'd be late. Gladto see you. I haven't had a chance to ask how you enjoyed that viewfrom the tower the other day. " She had given him her hand and he wasshaking it rapturously. 

"It was glorious, and I haven't had the opportunity to ask if youhave explored the hills and forest. "

"I'm afraid of snakes and other creeping things, " he said, slyly. 

They had gone to the dining-room when Quentin entered. He was palerthan usual, but he was as calm, as easy and as self-possessed as ifhe had never known a conscience in all his life. She was not lookingat him when he bowed to her, but she heard his clear voice say:

"I am glad to see you, Dorothy. "

He sat across the table, beside Lady Jane, who was opposite Dorothy. If he noticed that she failed to return his greeting, he was nottroubled. To his credit be it said, however, he did not againaddress a remark to her during the meal. Within the sound of hisvoice, under the spell of his presence, in such close proximity tohis strong, full-blooded body, she could not but give a part of herthought to this man who, of all others, the mob would slay if theyhad the chance. 

She could not conceal from herself the relief she felt in minglingwith friends. A willful admiration grew full in the face ofresentful opposition, and there was a reckless downfall of dignity. They treated her without restraint, talked as freely of theiraffairs as if she were not there, boldly discussed the situation inBrussels, and laughed over the frantic efforts of the authorities. Helplessly she was drawn into the conversation, and, at last, to herdismay, joined with them in condolences to the police. 

"But some day they will find the right trail and pounce upon youlike so many wild beasts, " she said, soberly. "What then? You may belaughing too soon. "

"It would be hard luck to have to break up such an awfully nicehouse party, " said Dickey, solemnly. 

"And the papers say they will kill us without compunction, " addedLady Jane. 

"It wouldn't be the first slaughter this old house has known, " saidLord Bob. "In the old days they used to kill people here as a formof amusement. "

"It might amuse some people even in our case, but not for me, thanks, " said Quentin. "They'd execute me first, however, and Iwouldn't have to endure the grief of seeing the rest of you tossedout of the windows. "

"Do you really believe they would kill poor little me?" demandedLady Jane, slowly, her eyes fastened on her brother's face. 

"Good Heaven, no!" cried Dorothy, at the possibility of such acalamity. "Why should they kill a helpless girl like you?"

"But I am one of the wretches they are hunting for. I'm adesperado, " argued Lady Jane. 

"I'd insist on their killing Lady Jane just the same as the rest ofus. It would be all wrong to discriminate, even if she is youngand--and--well, far from ugly, " declared Dickey, decidedly. 

"You might try to save my life, Mr. Savage; it would be the heroicthing to do, " she said. 

"Well I'll agree to let 'em kill me twice if it will do any good. They'd surely be obliging if I said it was to please a lady. Couldn't you suggest something of the kind to them, Miss Garrison?You know the whole massacre is in your honor, and I imagine youmight have a good bit to say about the minor details. Of course, Lady Jane and I are minor details--purely incidentals. "

"We are in the chorus, only, " added Lady Jane, humbly. 

"If you persist in this talk about being killed, I'll go upstairsand never come down again, " cried Dorothy, wretchedly, and thecompany laughed without restraint. 

"Dickey, if you say another word that sounds like 'kill' I'll murderyou myself, " threatened Lord Bob. 

Lady Jane began whetting a silver table knife on the edge of herplate. 

That evening Dorothy did not listen to Dickey Savage's rag-timemusic from an upstairs room. She stood, with Lady Jane, beside thepiano bench and fervently applauded, joined in the chorus andconsoled herself with the thought that it was better to be a merryprisoner than a doleful one. She played while Dickey and Janedanced, and she laughed at the former's valiant efforts to teach theEnglish girl how to "cake walk. "

Philip Quentin, with his elbows on the piano, moodily watched herhands, occasionally relaxing into a smile when the laughter becamegeneral. Not once did he address her, and not once did she look upat him. At last he wandered away, and when next she saw him he wassitting in a far corner of the big room, his eyes half closed, hishead resting comfortably against the high back of the chair. 

Lord and Lady Saxondale hovered about the friendly piano, and therewas but one who looked the outcast. Conditions had changed. She waswithin a circle of pleasure, he outside. She gloated in the factthat he had been driven into temporary exile, and that he could notfind a place in the circle as long as she was there. Occasionallyone or the other of his accomplices glanced anxiously toward thequiet outsider, but no one asked him to come into the fold. In theend, his indifference began to irritate her. When Lady Saxondalerang for the candles near the midnight hour, she took hercandlestick from the maid, with no little relief, andunceremoniously made her way toward the hall. She nervously uttereda general good-night to the party and flushed angrily when Quentin'svoice responded with the others:

"Good-night, Dorothy. "

XXV

DOWN AMONG THE GHOSTS

"I cannot endure it, " she cried to herself a dozen times beforemorning. "I shall go mad if I have to see his face and hear hisvoice and feel that he is looking at me. There must be a way toescape from this place, there must be a way. I will risk anything toget away from him!"

At breakfast she did not see him; he had eaten earlier with LordBob. The others noted the hunted look in her eye and saw that shehad passed a sleepless night. The most stupendous of Dickey'sefforts to enliven the dreary table failed, and there was uttercollapse to the rosy hopes they had begun to build. Her brain wasfilled by one great thought--escape. While they were jesting she waswondering how and where she could find the underground passages ofwhich they had spoken and to what point they would lead. 

"I'd give a round sum if I could grow a set of whiskers as readilyand as liberally as Turk, " commented Dickey, sadly. "He came out ofPhil's room this morning, and I dodged behind a door post, thinkinghe was a burglar. Turk looks like a wild man from Borneo, and hiswhiskers are not ten days out. He's letting 'em grow so that he canventure outside the castle without fear of recognition. I'd like toget outside these walls for half a day. "

"I detest whiskers, " decided Lady Jane. 

"So do I, especially Turk's. But they're vastly convenient, just thesame. In a couple of days Turk won't know himself when he looks inthe mirror. I believe I'll try to cultivate a bunch. "

"I'm sure they would improve you very much, " said Lady Jane, aggressively. "What is your idea as to color?"

"Well, I rather fancy a nice amber. I can get one color as easily asanother. Have you a preference?"

"I think pink or blue would become you, Dickey. But don't let myprejudices influence you. Of course, it can't make any difference, because I won't recognize you, you know. "

"In other words, if I don't cut my whiskers you'll cut me?"

"Dead. "

"Lots of nice men have whiskers. "

"And so do the goats. "

"But a brigand always has a full set--in the opera, at least. "

"You are only a brigand's apprentice, and, besides, this isn't anopera. It is a society tragedy. "

"Won't you have another egg?" he asked, looking politely at herplate. Then he inquired if Miss Garrison would like to join him in aclimb among the rocks. She smiled wistfully and said she would becharmed to do so if she were not too feeble with age when the timecame to start. 

Consumed with a desire to acquaint herself with her surroundings, she begged her companions to take her over the castle from turret tocellar. Later in the day, with Turk carrying the lantern, she waseagerly taking notes in the vast, spooky caves of Craneycrow. 

Vaulted chambers here, narrow passages there, spider-ridden ceilingsthat awoke to life as the stooping visitors rustled beneath them, slimy walls and ringing floors, all went to make up the vast gravein which she was to bury all hope of escape. Immense were theiron-bound doors that led from one room to another; huge the boltsand rusty the hinges; gruesome and icy the atmosphere; narrow thesteps that led to regions deeper in the bowels of the earth. Dorothy's heart sank like lead as she surveyed the impregnable wallsand listened to the mighty groans of long-sleeping doors as theshoulder of the sturdy Turk awoke them to torpid activity. There wassurprise and resentment in the creak of grim old hinges, in themoans of rheumatic timbers, in the jangle of lazy chains and locks. The stones on which they trod seemed to snap back in the echo oftheir footfalls a harsh, strident laugh of derision. Every shadowgrinned mockingly at her; the very darkness ahead of the lantern'sway seemed to snort angrily at the approach of the intruders. Thewhole of that rockbound dungeon roared defiance in answer to hertimid prayer, and snarled an ugly challenge to her courage. 

Lady Saxondale and Dickey confronted two rather pale-faced girlswhen the party of explorers again stood in the sunlit halls above. Across their shrinking faces cobwebs were lashed, plastered with thedank moisture of ages; in their eyes gleamed relief and from theirlips came long breaths of thankfulness. Turk, out of sight andhearing, was roundly cursing the luck that had given him such adisagreeable task as the one just ended. From the broad, warmwindows in the south drawing-room, once the great banquet hall, thequartet of uncomfortable sight-seekers looked out upon the opencourtyard that stretched down to the fort-like wall, and for themoment Dorothy envied Philip Quentin. He was briskly pacing thestone-paved inclosure, smoking his pipe and basking in the sunshinethat had never penetrated to the horrors of Castle Craneycrow. LordBob was serenely lounging on a broad oaken bench, his back to thesun, reading from some musty-backed book. 

"Oh, won't you let me go out in the sun for just a little while?"she cried, imploringly. A mist came over Lady Saxondale's eyes andDickey turned away abruptly. 

"As often as you like, Dorothy. The courtyard is yours as much as itis ours. Jane, will you take her through our fort? Show her thewalls, the parapets, the bastions, and where the moat and drawbridgewere when the place was young. It is very interesting, Dorothy. "

With Dickey and Lady Jane, Dorothy passed into the courtyard andinto the open air for the first time in nearly a week. She felt likea bird with clipped wings. The most casual inspection convinced herthat there was no possible chance of escape from the walledquadrangle, in the center of which loomed the immense, weather-painted castle. The wall was high and its strength was asunbroken as in its earliest days. Lord Saxondale joined them andexplained to her all the points of interest about the castle asviewed from the outside, but Quentin quietly abandoned his walk anddisappeared. 

"It is as difficult to get out of Castle Craney-crow as it is to getin, I dare say, " observed Dorothy, looking with awe upon the grimold pile of rocks, they called a castle. Far above their heads stoodthe tower, from which she had seen earth and sky as if in apanorama, three days before. 

"One might be able to get out if he could fly. It seems the onlyway, provided, of course, there were opposition to his departure, "said Lord Bob, smiling. 

"Alas, I cannot fly, " she said, directly. 

At the rear of the castle, where the stonework had been battereddown by time, man and the elements, she saw several servants atwork. "You have trustworthy servants, Lord Saxondale. I have triedto bribe one of them. "

"You see, Miss Garrison, they love Lady Frances. That is the secretof their loyalty. The chances are they'd sell me out to-morrow, butthey'd die before they'd cut loose from my wife. By Jove, I don'tunderstand how it is that everybody is won over by you Americanwomen. "

During the trip through the cellars, Dorothy had learned that thesecret passages to the outside world began in the big chamber underthe tower. Lady Saxondale had unwittingly confessed, while they werein the room, that two of the big rocks in the wall were false andthat they were in reality doors which opened into the passages. Oneof the passages was over a mile long, and there were hundreds ofsteps to descend before one reached a level where walking was notlaborious. The point of egress was through a hidden cave up thevalley, near the ruins of an old church. Where the other passage hadonce led to she did not know, for it had been closed by the cavingin of a great pile of rocks. 

With a determined spirit and a quaking courage, Dorothy vowed thatshe would sooner or later find this passage-way and make a bold dashfor liberty. Her nerves were tingling with excitement, eagerness anda horror of the undertaking, and she could scarcely control herselfuntil the opportunity might come for a surreptitious visit to theunderground regions. Her first thought was to locate, if possible, the secret door leading into the passage. With that knowledge in herpossession she could begin the flight at once, or await a favorablehour on some later day. 

That very afternoon brought the opportunity for which she waswaiting. The other women retired for their naps, and the men went tothe billiard room. The lower halls were deserted, and she had littledifficulty in making her way unseen to the door that led to thebasement. Here she paused irresolutely, the recollection of thedismal, grasping solitude that dwelt beyond the portal sending againthe chill to aer bones. 

She remembered that Turk had hung the lantern on a peg just insidethe door, and she had provided herself with matches. To turn thekey, open the door, pass through and close it, required no vastamount of courage, for it would be but an instant until she couldhave a light. Almost before she knew what she had done, she was inthe drafty, damp stairway, and the heavy door was between her andher unsuspecting captors. With trembling, agitated fingers shestruck a match. It flickered and went out. Another and another metthe same fate, and she began to despair. The darkness seemed tochoke her, a sudden panic rushed up and overwhelmed her faintingcourage, and with a smothered cry of terror she turned to throw openthe door. But the door refused to open! A modern spring lock had setitself against her return to the coveted security of the hallsabove. 

A deathly faintness came over her. She sobbed as she threw herselfagainst the stubborn door and pounded upon its panels with herhands. Something dreadful seemed to be crawling up from behind, outof the cavernous hole that was always night. The paroxysms of fearand dread finally gave way to despair, and despair is ever theparent of pluck. Impatiently she again undertook the task oflighting the lantern, fearing to breathe lest she destroy thewavering, treacherous flame that burnt inside her bleeding hands. Her pretty knuckles were bruised and cut in the reckless pounding onthe door. 

At last the candle inside the lantern's glass began to flickerfeebly, and then came the certainty that perseverance had beenrewarded. Light filled the narrow way, and she looked timidly downthe rickety stone steps, dreading to venture into the blacknessbeyond. Ahead lay the possibility of escape, behind lay failure andthe certainty that no other opportunity would be afforded her. Soshe bravely went down the steps, her knees weakly striking againsteach other, the lantern jangling noisily against the stone wall. 

How she managed to reach the chamber under the tower she could nothave told afterward; she did not know at the time. At last, however, she stood, with blood chilled to the curdling point, in the centerof the room that knew the way to the outside world. Pounding on therocky walls with a piece of stone against which her foot had struck, she at length found a block that gave forth the hollow sound shelonged to hear. Here, then, was the key to the passage, and it onlyremained for her to discover the means by which the osbtructioncould be moved from the opening. 

For half an hour, cold with fear and nervousness, she sought for thetraditional spring, but her efforts were in vain. There wasabsolutely no solution, and it dawned upon her that she was doomedto return to the upper world defeated. Indeed, unless she could makethose in the castle hear her cries, it was possible that she mightactually die of starvation in the pitiless cavern. The lanterndropped from her palsied fingers, and she half sank against thestubborn door in the wall. To be back once more in the rooms above, with cheery human beings instead of with the spirits of she knew nothow many murdered men and women, was now her only desire, her onlypetition. 

The contact of her body with the slab in some way brought about theresult for which she had striven. The door moved slowly downward anda dash of freezing air came from the widening aperture at the top, blowing damp across her face. Staggering away from the ghostlikehole that seemed to grin fiendishly until it spread itself into along, black gulf with eyes, a voice, and clammy hands, she grabbedup the still lighted lantern and cried aloud in a frenzy of fear. The door slowly sank out of sight and the way was open but hercourage was gone. What was beyond that black hole? Could she live inthe foul air that poured forth from that dismal mouth? Tremblinglike a leaf, she lifted the lantern and peered into the aperture, standing quite close to the edge. 

Her eyes fastened themselves in mute horror upon the object thatfirst met their gaze; she could not breathe, her heart ceasedbeating, and every vestige of life seemed to pass beyond recall. Shewas looking upon the skeleton of a human being, crouched, hunchedagainst the wall of the narrow passage, a headless skeleton, for theskull rolled out against her feet as the sliding door sank below thelevel. Slowly she backed away from the door, not knowing what shedid, conscious only that her eyes could not be drawn from thehorrifying spectacle. 

"Oh, God!" she moaned, in direst terror. Her ghastly companionseemed to edge himself toward her, an illusion born in the changingposition of the light as she retreated. 

"Dorothy, " came a voice behind her, and she screamed aloud interror, dropping the lantern and covering her face with her hands. As she swayed limply, a pair of arms closed about her and a voiceshe knew so well called her name again and again. She did not swoon, but it was an interminably long time to him before she exhibited thefaintest sign of life other than the convulsive shudders that sweptthrough her body. At last her hands clasped his arm fiercely and herbody stiffened. 

"Is it you, Phil? Oh, is it really you? Take me away from thisplace! Anywhere, anywhere! I'll do anything you say, but don't letthat awful thing come near me!" she wailed. By the flickering lighthe caught the terrified expression in her eyes. 

"You are safe, dear. I'll carry you upstairs, if you like, " he said, softly. 

"I can walk, or run. Oh, why did I come here? But, Phil, " suddenly, "we are locked in this place. We can't get out!"

"Oh, yes, we can, " he cried, quickly. "Come with me. " He picked upthe lantern, threw an arm about her and hurried toward the stairsthat led aloft. Afterwards he was not ashamed to admit that heimagined he felt bony hands clutching at him from behind, and fearlent speed to his legs. Up the stairs they crowded, and he clutchedat the huge handle on the door. In surprise, he threw his weightagainst the timbers, and a moment later dropped back with anexclamation of dismay. The door was locked!

"What does it mean!" he gasped. "I left it standing open when I camedown. The draft must have shut it. Don't be alarmed, Dorothy; I'llkick the damned thing down. What an idiot I was to tell no one thatI was coming down here. " But his kicking did not budge the door, andthe noise did not bring relief. She held the lantern while he foughtwith the barricade, and she was strangely calm and brave. The queerturn of affairs was gradually making itself felt, and her brain wasclearing quickly. She was not afraid, now that he was there, but anew sensation was rushing into her heart. It was the sensation ofshame and humiliation. That he, of all men, should find her in thatunhappy, inglorious plight, ending her bold dash for freedom withthe most womanly of failures, was far from comforting, to say theleast. 

"Dorothy, I can't move it. I've kicked my toes off, and my knees arebleeding, but there it stands like a rock. We've got to stay heretill some one chances to hear us, " he said, ruefully. "Are youafraid now?"

"Why didn't you spring the lock when you came down? This is a prettypass, I must say, " she said, her voice still shaky, her logicabnormal. 

"I like that! Were you any better off before I came than you arenow? How were you going to get out, may I ask?" he demanded, coollyseating himself on the top step. She stood leaning against thewooden door, the diplomatic lantern between them. 

"I was going out by another way, " she said, shortly, but a shuddergave the lie to the declaration. 

"Do you know where that hidden passage leads to?" he asked, lookingup into her face. She was brushing cobwebs from her dress. 

"To a cave near the old church, " she replied, triumphantly. 

"Blissful ignorance!" he laughed. "It doesn't lead anywhere as itnow exists. You see, there was a cave-in a few decades ago--"

"Is that the one that caved in?" she cried, in dismay. 

"So Saxondale tells me. "

"And--and how did the--the--how did that awful thing get in there?"she asked, a new awe coming over her. 

"Well, that's hard to tell. Bob says the door has never been opened, to his knowledge. Nobody knows the secret combination, or whateveryou call it. The chances are that the poor fellow whose bones we sawgot locked in there and couldn't get out. So he died. That's whatmight have happened to you, you know. "

"Oh, you brute! How can you suggest such a thing?" she cried, andshe longed to sit close beside him, even though he was her mostdetested enemy. 

"Oh, I would have saved you from that fate, never fear. "

"But you could not have known that I was inside the passage. "

"Do you suppose I came down here on a pleasure trip?"

"You--you don't mean that you knew I was here?"

"Certainly; it is why I came to this blessed spot. It is my duty tosee that no harm comes to you, Dorothy. "

"I prefer to be called Miss Garrison, " coldly. 

"If you had been merely Miss Garrison to me, you'd be off on abridal tour with Ravorelli at this moment, instead of enjoying arather unusual tete-a-tete with me. Seriously, Dorothy, you will bewise if you submit to the inevitable until fate brings a change ofits own accord. You are brave and determined, I know, and I love youmore than ever for this daring attempt to get out of Craneycrow, butyou don't know what it might have brought you to. Good heavens, noone knows what dangers lie in those awful passages. They have notbeen used in a hundred years. Think of what you were risking. Don't, for your own sake, try anything so uncertain again. I knew you weredown here, but no one else knows. How you opened that secret door, Ido not know, but we both know what happened to one other poor wretchwho solved the mystery. "

"I didn't solve it, really I didn't. I don't know how it happened. It just opened, that's all, and then I--oh, it was terrible!" Shecovered her eyes with her hands and he leaped to his feet. 

"Don't think about it, Dorothy. It was enough to frighten you todeath. Gad, I should have gone mad had I been in your place. " He puthis arm about her shoulder, and for a moment she offered noresistance. Then she remembered who and what he was and imperiouslylifted angry eyes to his. 

"The skeleton may have been a gentleman in his day, Mr. Quentin. Even now, as I think of him in horror, he could not be as detestableas you. Open this door, sir!" she said, her voice quivering withindignation. 

"I wish I could--Dorothy, you don't believe that I have the power toopen this door and am blackguard enough to keep you here? My God, what do you think I am?" he cried, drawing away from her. 

"Open this door!" she commanded, resolutely. He looked long andearnestly into her unflinching eyes, and his heart chilled as if icehad clogged the blood. 

"I cannot open it, " he said at last. With not another word he satdown again at her feet, and, for what seemed like an age, neitherspoke. The lantern sputtered warningly, but they did not know thelight of its life was ebbing away. They breathed and thought, andthat was all. At length the chill air began to tell, and he plainlyheard the chatter of her teeth, the rustling of her dress as herbody shivered. He arose, stiff and cold, drew off his coat and threwit about her shoulders. She resisted at first, but he was master. Later his waistcoat was wrapped about her throat and the warmlantern was placed at her feet, but she never gave him one look ofgratitude. 

At intervals he pounded on the door until finally there came thejoyous, rasping sound of a key in the lock, and then excitedexclamations filled the ears of the two prisoners. 

XXVI

"THE KING OF EVIL-DOERS"

"Turk has been in Brussels, " said Quentin to her on the dayfollowing her underground adventure. She was walking in thecourtyard, and her brain was busy with a new interest. Again had thelonely priest passed along the road far below, and she had made himunderstand that he was wanted at the castle gates. When he turnedoff the road and began slowly to climb the steep, she was almostsuffocated with nervous excitement. Her experience of the day beforehad left her unstrung and on the verge of collapse, and she wasbeginning to enjoy a strange resignation. 

She was beginning to feel that there were terrors worse than thoseof the kindly prison, and that escape might be tenfold moreunpleasant than confinement. Then she saw the priest, and herhalf-hearted attempt to attract his attention to her plight, resulted so differently from what she had expected that her nerveswere again leaping with the old desire to outwit her captors. He wascoming to the castle, but how was she to acquaint him with the truestate of affairs? She would not be permitted to see him, much lessto talk with him; of that she was sure. Not knowing what else to do, she went into the courtyard and loitered near the big gates, tryingto appear at ease. She prayed for but a few moments' time in whichto cry out to him that she was a prisoner and the woman for whom100, 000 francs were offered in Brussels. 

But now comes Quentin upon the scene. His voice was hoarse, and itwas plain that he had taken a heavy cold in the damp cellar. Shedeliberately turned her back upon him, not so much in disdain as tohide the telltale confusion in her face. All hope of conversing withthe priest was lost if Quentin remained near by. 

"I sent him to Brussels, Dorothy, and he has learned something thatwill be of vital interest to you, " Philip went on, idly leaningagainst the gate as if fate itself had sent him there to frustrateher designs. 

"Don't talk to me now, Philip. You must give me time. In an hour, when I have gotten over this dreadful headache, I will listen toyou. But now, for heaven's sake, leave me to myself, " she said, rapidly, resorting to deception. 

"I'm sorry I have disturbed you. In an hour, then, or at any timeyou may feel like listening. It concerns Prince Ugo. "

"Is he--what has happened to him?" she demanded, turning to him withalarm in her eyes. 

"It is not what has happened to him, but to one who was hisintimate. The woman who warned me to beware of his treachery hasbeen murdered in Brussels. Shall I come to you here in an hour?"

"Yes, " she said, slowly, the consciousness of a new dread showingitself in her voice. It was not until he reentered the house thatshe became fully possessed of a desire to learn more of thisstartling news. Her mind went back to the strange young woman whocame to her with the story of the prince's duplicity, and her bloodgrew cold with the thought that brutal death had come to her so soonafter that visit. She recalled the woman's voice, her unquestionedrefinement, her dignity of bearing and the positiveness with whichshe declared that Ugo would kill her if he knew the nature of hervisit to his promised wife. And now she was dead--murdered! By whom?That question burst upon her with the force of a heavy blow. Whokilled her?

A pounding on the heavy gate brought her sharply to the project ofthe moment. She walked as calmly as her nerves would admit to thegate and called in French:

"Who is there?"

"Father Paul, " came a subdued voice from the outside. "Am I wrong inbelieving that I was called here by some one in the castle? Kindlyadmit me. I am fatigued and athirst. "

"I cannot open the gate, good Father, You must aid me to escape fromthis place, " she cried, eagerly, her breast thumping like a hammer. There was no interruption, and she could have shrieked with triumphwhen, five minutes later, the priest bade her be of good cheer andto have confidence in him. He would come for her on the next nightbut one, and she should be freed. From her window in the castle shesaw the holy man descend the steep with celerity not born offatigue. When he reached the road below he turned and waved his handto her and then made his way swiftly into the forest. 

After it was all over and relief was promised, her excitementsubsided and in its place began to grow a dull contemplation of whather rescue would mean to the people who were holding her captive. Itmeant exposure, arrest, imprisonment and perhaps death. The appealshe had succeeded in getting to the ears of the passing priest wouldsoon be public property, and another day might see the jubilantminions of the law in front of Castle Craneycrow demanding herrelease and the surrender of the culprits. There was not the joy inher heart that she had expected; instead there was a sickening fancythat she had done something mean and treacherous. When she rejoinedthe unsuspecting party downstairs soon afterward, a mighty weaknessassailed her, and it was she, instead of they who had boldly stolenher from her home, that felt the pangs of guilt. She went into thecourtyard where Savage and Lady Jane were playing handball, whilethe Saxondales looked on, happily unconscious of a traitor in theirmidst. For an instant, pale and remorseful, she leaned against thedoor-post, struggling to suppress the tears of pity and contrition. Before she had fully recovered her strength Lady Jane was drawingher into the contest with Dickey. And so she played cravenly withthose whose merry hearts she was to crush, listening to the plauditsof the two smiling onlookers. It was too late to save them, for apriest of God had gone out into the world to herald their guilt andto deal a blow that would shatter everything. 

Quentin came down a little later, and she was conscious that hewatched the game with eyes in which pleasure and trouble fought forsupremacy. Tired at last of the violent exercise, the trio threwthemselves upon the bench in the shade of the wall, and, withglowing faces and thumping breasts, two of them laughed over theantics they had cut. Dorothy's lawless lover stood afar off, lonelyand with the resignation of the despised. Presently he drew near andasked if he might join them in the shade. 

"What a dreadful cold you have taken, Phil, " cried Lady Saxondale, anxiously. 

"Commonest sort of a cold, I assure you. Damp cellars don't agreewith me, " he said. 

"I did not want your coat, but you would give it to me, " saidDorothy, as if called upon to defend herself for some crime. 

"It was you or I for the cold, you know, " he said, simply, "and Iwas your protector. "

"Right and good, " agreed Dickey. "Couldn't do anything else. Ladyneeded a coat, had to have it, and she got it. Duty called and foundhim prepared. That's why he always wears a coat in the presence ofladies. "

"I've had your friend, the skeleton, buried, " said Lord Bob. "Poorchap, he seemed all broken up over leaving the place. "

"Yes--went all to pieces, " added Dickey. 

"Dickey Savage, do you think you are funny?" demanded Lady Jane, loftily. "I would not jest about the dead. "

"The last I saw of him he was grinning like the--"

"Oh, you wretch!" cried the girl, and Dorothy put her fingers to herears. 

"Shut up, Dickey, " exclaimed Quentin. "Do you care to hear aboutthat woman in Brussels, Dorothy?"

"It is of no great consequence to me, but I'll listen if you like, "she said, slowly. 

Thereupon he related to the party the story of the finding of thedead woman in a house near the Garrison home in the Avenue Louise. She had been dead for two days and her throat was cut. The house inwhich she was found was the one into which Turk had seen Courantdisappear on the night of the veranda incident at the Garrison's. Turk had been sent to Brussels by Quentin on a mission ofconsiderable importance, arriving there soon after the body wasdiscovered. He saw the woman's face at the morgue and recognized heras the one who had approached Quentin in the train for Paris. Turklearned that the police, to all appearances had found a clew, buthad suddenly dropped the whole matter and the woman was classifiedwith the "unknown dead. " An attendant at the morgue carelesslyremarked in his hearing that she was the mistress of a great man, who had sent them word to "throw her in the river. " Secretly Turkassured himself that there was no mistake as to the house in whichshe had been found, and by putting two and two together, it was notunnatural to agree with the morgue officer and to supply for his ownbenefit the name of the royal lover. The newspapers which Turkbrought from Brussels to Castle Craneycrow contained accounts of themurder of the beautiful woman, speculated wildly as to her idenityand termed the transaction a mystery as unsolvable as the greatabduction. The same papers had the report, on good authority, thatMiss Garrison had been murdered by her captors in a small town inSpain, the authorities being so hot on the trail that she was putout of the way for safety's sake. 

But the papers did not know that a bearded man named Turk hadslipped a sealed envelope under a door at the Garrison home, andthat a distressed mother had assurance from the brigand chief thather daughter was alive and well, but where she could not be found. To prove that the letter was no imposition, it was accompanied by alock of hair from Dorothy's head, two or three bits of jewelry and alace handkerchief that could not have belonged to another. Dorothydid not know how or when Baker secured these bits of evidence, WhenQuentin told her the chief object of Turk's perilous visit toBrussels, her eyes filled with tears, and for the first time shefelt grateful to him. 

"I have a confession to make, " she said, after the story wasfinished and the others had deliberately charged Ugo with the crime. "That poor woman came to me in Brussels and implored me to give upthe prince. She told me, Phil, that she loved him and warned me tobeware of him. And she said that he would kill her if he knew thatshe had come to me. "

"That settles it!" exclaimed he, excitedly, the fever of joy in hiseyes. "He killed her when he found that she had been to you. Perhaps, goaded to desperation, she confessed to him. Imagine thedevilish delight he took in sniffing out her life after that! Wehave him now! Dorothy, you know as well as I that he and he alonehad an object in killing her. You have only to tell the story of hervisit to you and we'll hang the miserable coward. " He was standingbefore her, eager-eyed and intense. 

"You forget that I am not and do not for some time expect to be in aposition to expose him. I am inclined to believe that the law willfirst require me to testify against you, Philip Quentin, " she said, looking fairly into his eyes, the old resentment returning like aflash. Afterward she knew that the look of pain in his face touchedher heart, but she did not know it then. She saw the beaten joy goout of his eyes, and she rejoiced in the victory. 

"True, " he said, softly. "I have saved the woman I love, while hehas merely killed one who loved him. " It angered her unreasonablywhen, as he turned to enter the house, Lady Saxondale put her armthrough his and whispered something in his ear. A moment or twolater Lady Jane, as if unable to master the emotion which impelled, hurried into the castle after them. Dickey strolled away, and shewas left with Lord Bob. It would have been a relief had he expressedthe slightest sign of surprise or regret, but he was asimperturbable as the wall against which he leaned. His mild blueeyes gazed carelessly at the coils of smoke that blew from his lips. 

"Oh, " she wailed to herself, in the impotence of anger, "they alllove him, they all hate me! Why does he not mistreat me, insult me, taunt me--anything that will cost him their respect, their devotion!How bitterly they feel toward me for that remark! It will kill me tostay here and see them turn to him as if he were some god and I thedefiler!"

That night there was a battle between the desire to escape and thereluctance she felt in exposing her captors to danger. In the endshe admitted to herself that she would not have Philip Quentinseized by the officers: she would give them all an equal chance toescape, he with the others. Her heart softened when she saw him, inher imagination, alone and beaten, in the hands of the police, ledaway to ignominy and death, the others perhaps safe through hisloyalty. She would refuse absolutely, irrevocably, to divulge thenames of her captors and would go so far as to perjure herself tosave them if need be. With that charitable resolution in her heartshe went to sleep. 

When she arose the next morning, Baker told her that Mr. Quentin wasill. His cold had settled on his lungs and he had a fever. LadySaxondale seemed worried over the rather lugubrious report fromDickey Savage, who came downstairs early with Phil's apologies fornot presenting himself at the breakfast table. 

While Quentin cheerfully declared that he would be himself beforenight, Dickey was in a doleful state of mind and ventured theopinion that he was "in for a rough spell of sickness. " Whatdistresed the Saxondales most was the dismal certainty that a doctorcould not be called to the castle. If Quentin were to becomeseriously ill, the situation would develop into something extremelyembarrassing. 

He insisted on coming downstairs about noon, and laughed at theremonstrances of Lord Bob and Dickey, who urged him to remain in bedfor a day or two, at least. His cough was a cruel one, and his eyeswere bright with the fever that raced through his system. Themedicine chest offered its quinine and its plasters for his benefit, and there was in the air the tense anxiety that is felt when a childis ill and the outcome is in doubt. The friends of this strong, stubborn and all-important sick man could not conceal the fact thatthey were nervous and that they dreaded the probability of disasterin the shape of serious illness. His croaking laugh, his tearingcough and that flushed face caused Dorothy more pain than she waswilling to admit, even to herself. 

As night drew near she quivered with excitement. Was she to leavethe castle? Would the priest come for her? Above all, would he beaccompanied by a force of officers large enough to storm the castleand overpower its inmates? What would the night bring forth? Andwhat would be the stand, the course, taken by this defiant sick man, this man with two fevers in his blood?

She had not seen or spoken to him during the day, but she hadfrequently passed by the door of the library in which he sat andtalked with the other men. An irresistible longing to speak to him, to tell him how much she regretted his illness, came over her. Therewas in her heart a strange tenderness, a hungry desire to comforthim just the least bit before she took the flight that was todestroy the hope his daring and skillfully executed scheme hadinspired. 

Three times she hesitated in front of the library door, but hercourage was not as strong as her desire. Were he alone she couldhave gone in and told him frankly that she would not expose him tothe law in the event that she ever had the opportunity. But theother men were with him. Besides, his cough was so distressing thatnatural pity for one suffering physical pain would have made itimpossible to talk to him with the essential show of indifference. 

At last, in despair, she left Lady Saxondale and her companion inthe courtyard and started up the stairs, resolved to be as far aspossible from the sound of that cough. Quentin met her at the footof the steps. 

"I'm going to lie down awhile, " he said, wearily. "They seem to beworried about this confounded cold, and I'll satisfy them by packingmyself away in bed. "

"You should be very careful, Phil, " she said, a suffocating feelingin her throat. "Your cough is frightful, and they say you have afever. Do be reasonable. "

"Dorothy, " he said, pausing before her at the steps, his voice fullof entreaty, "tell me you don't despise me. Oh! I long to have yousay one tender word to me, to have one gentle look from your eyes. "

"I am very sorry you are suffering, Philip, " she said, steeling herheart against the weakness that threatened. 

"Won't you believe I have done all this because I love you and----"he was saying, passionately, but she interposed. 

"Don't! Don't, Phil! I was forgetting a little--yes, I wasforgetting a little, but you bring back all the ugly thoughts. Icannot forget and I will not forgive. You love me, I know, and youhave been a kind jailer, but you must not expect to regain myrespect and love--yes, it was love up to the morning I saw you inthe dining-room of this castle. "

"I'll create a new love in your heart, Dorothy, " he cried. "The oldlove may be dead, but a new one shall grow up in its place. You donot feel toward me to-day as you did a week ago. I have made someheadway against the force of your hatred. It will take time to wincompletely; I would not have you succumb too soon. But, just as sureas there is a God, you will love me some day for the love that mademe a criminal in the eyes of the world. I love you, Dorothy; I loveyou!"

"It is too late. You have destroyed the power to love. Phil, Icannot forgive you. Could I love you unless full forgiveness pavedthe way?"

"There is nothing to forgive, as you will some day confess. You willthank and forgive me for what I have done. " A fit of coughing causedhim to lean against the stair rail, a paroxysm of pain crossing hisface as he sought to temper the violence of the spell. 

"You should have a doctor, " she cried, in alarm. He smiledcheerlessly. 

"Send for the court physician, " he said, derisively, "The king ofevil-doers has the chills and fever, they say. Is my face hotDorothy?"

She hesitated for a moment, then impulsively placed her cool handagainst his flushed forehead. Despite her will, there was a caressin the simple act, and his bright eyes gleamed with gladness. Hishand met hers as it was lowered from the hot brow, and his lipstouched the fingers softly. 

"Ah, the fever, the fever!" he exclaimed, passionately. 

"You should have a doctor, " she muttered, as if powerless to frameother words. 

XXVII

THE FLIGHT WITH THE PRIEST

Eleven o'clock that night found Castle Craneycrow wrapped in thestillness of death. Its inmates were awake, but they were petrified, paralyzed by the discovery that Dorothy Garrison was gone. Scaredeyes looked upon white faces, and there was upon the heart of eachthe clutch of an icy hand. So appalling was the sensation that thefive conspirators breathed not nor spoke, but listened for theheartbeats that had stopped when fears finally gave way to completeconviction. They were as if recovering from the fright of seeing aghost; spirits seemed to have swept past them with cold wings, carrying off the prisoner they thought secure; only supernaturalforces could be charged with the penetration of their impregnablewall. 

The discovery of the prisoner's flight was not made until Bakerknocked on Lady Saxondale's door and inquired for Miss Garrison atbedtime. Then it was recalled that she had left the others at nineo'clock, pleading a headache, but she did not go to her room. Investigation revealed the fact that her jewelry, a cape and atraveling hat were missing. Remembering her first attempt to escapeand recalling the very apparent nervousness that marked her demeanorduring the day, Lady Saxondale alarmed the house. 

Ten minutes later the conspirators and a knot of sleepy servantsstood in the courtyard, staring at the great gate. It was closed butunlocked. There were but two known keys to the big lock, and sincethe arrival of the party at the castle they had not been out of LordSaxondale's possession. The girl could not have used either of themand the lock had not been forced; what wonder, then, that in thefirst moments of bewilderment they shrank back as if opposed by thesupernatural?

No one present had seen her leave the castle, and there was no wayof telling how long she had been gone, except that it was not longerthan two hours. After the first shock of realization, however, themen came to the conclusion that assistance had come from theoutside, or that there was a traitor on the inside. They wereexcitedly questioning the long-trusted servants when Lady Jane madea second discovery. 

"Where is Turk?" she cried, and every eye swept through the group. 

"Gone, by God!" exclaimed Quentin, in helpless amazement. No one hadgiven thought to his illness in the excitement of the moment. He hadbeen called forth with the rest, and when he coughed not even hetook note of the fact. This was no time to think of colds and feversand such a trifling thing as death. He shivered, but it was not withthe chill of a sick man; it was the shiver of fear. 

"Good Lord, he can't be the one! Turk would die for me!" he cried, almost piteously. 

"He is gone, and so is she, " grated Lord Bob. "What are we to infer?He has sold us out, Quentin; that's the truth of it. "

''I'm damned!" almost wept Dickey Savage. "They'll have a pack ofofficers here before morning. I don't give a hoot for myself, butLady Saxondale and--"

"Great heaven! what have I brought you to in my folly?" groanedQuentin, covering his face with his hands. 

"Open the gate!" called a hoarse voice outside the wall, and everyheart stopped beating, every face went white. A heavy boot crashedagainst the gate. 

"The officers!" whispered Lady Jane, in terror. Dickey Savage's armwent round her. 

"Let me in! Git a move on!'

"It's Turk!" roared Quentin, springing toward the gate. An instantlater Turk was sprawling inside the circle of light shed by thelantern, and a half-dozen voices were hurling questions at him. 

The little man was in a sorry plight. He was dirt-covered andbloody, and he was so full of blasphemy that he choked insuppressing it. 

"Where is she? Where have you been?" cried Quentin, shaking himviolently in his agitation. 

"Gimme time, gimme time!" panted Turk. "I've got to git my breath, ain't I? She's flew th' coop, an' I couldn't head her off. Say, hasa priest been loafin' aroun' here lately?"

"A priest!" cried Lord Bob. "There hasn't been one here since FatherBivot came three years ago to--"

"I mean this week, not t'ree years ago. She's gone with a priest, an' I'm nex' to who he is, too. He ain't no more priest 'n I am. It's that French detective, Courant, an' he's worked us to afare-you-well. He's th' boy!"

This startling news threw the party into deeper consternation thanbefore. The little ex-burglar was not a fluent talker at best, buthe now excelled himself in brevity. In three minutes he hadconcluded his story, and preparations were well under way for thepursuit. 

He was, according to his narrative, sitting in the lower end of thecourtyard about nine o'clock, calmly smoking his pipe, when hisattention was caught by the long, shrill call of a night bird. Nosuch sound had come to his ears during his stay at the castle, andhis curiosity was aroused. Not dreaming of what was to follow, heslowly walked toward the front of the castle. A woman stood in theshadow of the wall near the gate. Hardly had his eyes made out thedim figure when the whistle was repeated. Before he fully graspedthe situation, the big gate swung slowly inward and another figure, at first glance that of a woman, stood inside the wall. He heard thewoman call softly: "Is that you, Father?" A man's voice replied, butthe words were too low to be distinguished. The woman drew back asif to return to the house, but the newcomer was at her side, and hishand was on her arm. 

There was a moment of indecision, then resistance, two or threesharp words from the man, and then the two seemed to fade throughthe wall. The ponderous gate was closing before the dumbfoundedwatcher could collect his wits. Like a shot he was across thestones, now alive to the meaning of the strange proceeding. Withdesperate hands he grasped the bar of the gate and pulled, utteringa loud shout of alarm at the same time. Surprised by the suddeninterference, the man on the other side gave way and Turk wasthrough the opening and upon him. A stunning blow on the head methim as he hurled himself forward, and he plunged headlong to theground. As he struggled to his feet another blow fell, and then allwas darkness. 

When he opened his eyes again two figures were careening down thesteep path, a hundred yards away. They were running, and wereplainly distinguishable in the moonlight. Turk knew that the womanwas Dorothy Garrison. He had heard her cry, after the first blow, "Don't! Don't kill him, Father! It is Turk!" Crazed with anger anddetermined to recapture her single-handed, Turk neglected to callfor help. With the blood streaming down his face, he dashed off inpursuit. There was in his heart the desire to kill the man who hadstruck him down. Near the foot of the hill he came up with them andhe was like a wildcat. 

Miss Garrison had fallen to her knees and was moaning as if in pain. The priest crouched behind her, protecting his person from apossible shot from the pursuer. "For God's sake, don't shoot him!"screamed the girl, but a moment later there was a flash of light, areport, and a pistol ball whizzed by Turk's ear. He was unarmed, buthe did not stop. Throwing himself forward, he stretched out his armsto grasp the crouching priest, hoping to prevent the firing ofanother shot. But he had not reckoned on the cleverness of the manat bay. The priest dropped flat to the ground and Turk plunged overhis body, wildly clutching for the prostrate man as he went. Withthe cunning of a fox, the priest, on realizing that he could notavoid a personal conflict, had looked about for means to end thepursuit effectually. 

Retarded in his progress by the tired, trembling girl, he saw that astand against the oncomer was unavoidable. He cleverly selected thespot for this stand, and braced himself as for the onslaught. Scarcely a yard beyond his position there was a sharp declivityamong the rocks, with a clear drop of a dozen feet or more to thebottom of a wide crevasse. His shot went wild and he could notrepeat it, for Dorothy was frantically clutching his arm. Thestrategem worked well, and he had the satisfaction of hearing amighty oath as Turk, unable to check himself, slipped from the edgeand went crashing to the rocks below. 

With the speed of a hunted animal, the priest leaped to his feet, dragging the girl after him, and a harsh laugh came from his throatas they dashed onward. A quick glance behind showed there had beenbut one pursuer, and the man in the robes of holiness chuckledexultantly. But, if Dorothy Garrison believed him to be the priesthis robes declared, the moonlight told the fallen Turk the truth. Indeed, it was the intentness with which the little ex-burglar gazedupon the white face of Courant that prevented him from seeing theledge as he dashed up to the couple. 

How long it was afterward that Turk came to his senses and crawledback to the roadway, dizzy, weak and defeated, he knew not. He couldonly groan and gnash his teeth when he stood erect again and sawthat he was utterly alone. Courant and the girl were gone. In shameand humiliation he climbed the hill to call for help. 

Just as the searching party was about to rush recklessly from thecourtyard, servants having been instructed to bring out the horses, Lady Jane espied a white piece of paper on the ground near the gate. And then it was that they read the parting message from the girl whowas gone. With a trembling voice Lady Saxondale read:

"I have found a way, and I am going, if nothing prevents. With thehelp of my good angel I shall soon be far from this place. A holyman in passing saw my signal of distress and promised rescue. Youhave been good to me, and I can only repay you by refusing to exposeyou. This priest does not know who you are. I shall not tell him orany who may be with him. No one shall ever know from me that youwere my abductors. God grant that you may never have to pay thepenalty. Go, while you may, for the truth may become known withoutmy help, and I may not be able to save you. Save yourselves, all ofyou. I mean Philip Quentin, too, because I know he loves me. 

"Dorothy. "

Philip Quentin took the forlorn, even distressed, message from thehands of Lady Saxondale, kissed it devoutly, and placed it in hispocket. 

"Philip is too ill to go out on this desperate chase, " cried LadySaxondale. 

"Ill! I'll die if I am not gone from here in five minutes! GreatLord, Bob, those fools have been an hour getting the horses!"groaned Quentin, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. 

"Don't get excited, Phil; keep your head. You're not fit to berunning about in a business like this, but all Christendom couldn'tstop you. It may be a wild goose chase, after all, " said Lord Bob. 

"She's been carried back to the accursed villain who employsCourant, and I'll die before I'll let him have her. Oh, what foolswe've been!"

"Here's a puzzler, old man, " said Dickey. "Why was not Ugo here tohelp Courant if he knew anything about the fellow's actions? Bycracky, I don't believe Ugo knows anything about the Frenchman'sfind. "

"He owns Courant, body and soul!"

"That jacky is out for the hundred thousand francs, and he's workingon his own hook this time, my boy. He's after the reward, and he'sthe only one that has been keen enough to find us out. Mark me, heis working alone. 

"Sure, he is, " added Turk. "He's got no pardners in th' job, er he'da' had em along to-night. S'pose he'd run into a gang like thisalone if he had anybody t' fall back on? Not on your life. We're amighty tough gang, an' he takes no chances with us if he's workin'fer anybody else. "

"We're not a tough gang!" wailed Lady Jane, in tears. "Oh, what willbecome of us!"

"The Lord only knows, if we fail to get both Dorothy and Courant, "said Quentin, in real anguish. 

"They may be in Luxemburg by this time, " said Saxondale. "Gad, thisis working in the dark!"

"That road down there don't go t' Luxemburg direct, m' lord, "quickly interposed Turk. "It goes off into th' hills, don't youremember? An' then out th' valley some place 'way to th' north. Ifhe'd been goin' to th' city he'd 'a' taken th' road back here an'kep' from goin' down th' hill. "

"You're right, Turk, " exclaimed Lord Bob. "He has gone up thevalley, headed for one of the little towns, and will steer clear ofthe Luxemburg officers for fear they may demand a part of thereward. "

"God, Saxondale, are those horses never coming?" fumed Quentin. "Iwon't wait!" and he was off like a madman through the gate and downthe steep. Behind him tore Turk, the faithful. 

XXVIII

THE GAME OF THE PRIEST

When Turk pitched over the crouching form of the priest and into thedark chasm beyond Dorothy for the first time began to appreciate thecharacter of her cowled rescuer. Panting and terrified, she lookedinto his hideously exultant face as he rose and peered over theledge after the luckless pursuer. It was not the face of a holy manof God, but that of a creature who could laugh in the taking of ahuman life. 

"Come on!" he cried, grasping her by the wrist with no gentleregard. "He's out of the way, but we have no time to lose. Theothers may miss you at any moment, and we must be in the wood if wehope to fool them. "

"I have changed my mind--" she began, holding back as he dragged herafter him down the slope. 

"It is too late, " he said, harshly. "You will soon be with yourfriends, my child. Do not lose heart, but trust to me. "

"Who are you? You are not a priest. Why have you disguisedyourself--"

"Not so loud, my child, not so loud! They may have guards even here. If I am not a priest, then may heaven shut its gates on me forever. Because I am a man and have undone one of your enemies, you shouldnot question my calling. It is no time for prayer. When we are safefrom pursuit, you will regret the doubt you have just expressed. Trust to me, my child. But run, for God's sake, run! Don't hang backwhen all depends on our speed in the next half-hour. "

"Where are you taking me? Answer, or I shall refuse to go anotherstep with you!" she exclaimed, now thoroughly aroused anddetermined. 

"My wagon is hitched in the wood over there. In it we will go to atown up the valley, where I have the promise of help. I could havebrought a big force of men with me, but don't you see what a mistakeit would have been? Rather than surrender you to a force they wouldhave killed you and secreted your body in the passages under thecastle. It is commonly known that the cellars are paved withskeletons. " Here Dorothy shuddered in recollection. "Strategy wasthe only means of getting you out safely. "

"They would not have killed me, " she cried, breathlessly. They weremoving rapidly along the level roadway now, and his grip on herwrist was like a clasp of iron. 

"To save themselves? Of course, they would--as they would a dog!" hesaid. 

"They are my friends, and they are the best, the truest in theworld, " she gasped, eager to keep the promise of protection made inthe farewell note. 

"You think they are, madam, but how could they treat you as theyhave if they are friends?" He had turned into the wood, and it wasnecessary to proceed more cautiously on account of the darkness. Sherealized that she had erred in saying they were friends, and turnedcold with apprehension. 

"I mean, they treated me well--for criminals, " she managed to say. 

"Criminals!" he snarled. "Bah! Of course they are criminals of theworst kind, but they will never be punished. "

"I'm afraid they are so clever that no one will ever find out whothey really are. "

He stopped with a lurch, and she could feel that he was looking ather in amazement. 

"I know who they are, and you know them, too, " he said, slowly. "Perhaps nobody else knows, but we know that my Lord and LadySaxondale and the two Americans were your abductors. The man Idumped into the ravine was that little villain Turk. "

Her heart almost stopped beating with the shock of knowing thatnothing could now shield her captors from exposure. 

"But--but it will be very hard to prove, " she said, hoarsely, almostdefiantly. 

"You have only to take oath, " he said, meaningly. 

"I don't know the name or face of a person in that castle, " shesaid, deliberately. He was silent for a full minute. 

"You intend to shield them?" he demanded. There was no answer to thequestion. Now she was positive that the man was no priest, but someone who knew the world and who had made it his business to trace herand her captors to the very gates of the castle. If he knew, thenothers must also be in possession of the secret. 

"Who are you?" she demanded, as he drew her deeper into the wood. There was now the wild desire to escape from her rescuer and to flyback to the kindly jailers on the hill. 

"A poor priest, by the grace of God, " he said, and she heard himchuckle. 

"Take me back to the road, sir!" she commanded. 

"I will take you to your mother, " he said, "and to no one else. "

"But I am afraid of you, " she exclaimed, her courage going. "I don'tknow you--I don't know where you are taking me. "

"We will not go far to-night. I know a place where you can hideuntil I secure help from the city. "

"But you said you had a wagon. "

"The horse must have strayed away, worse luck!" said he, with araucous laugh. 

She broke from his grasp suddenly, and like a frightened deer wasoff through the darkness knowing not whither she went or what momentshe might crash against a tree. The flight was a short one. Sheheard him curse savagely as he leaped upon her from behind after achase of a few rods, and then she swooned dead away. 

When she regained consciousness a faint glow of light met her eyesas the lids feebly lifted themselves from their torpor. Graduallythere came to her nostrils a dank, musty odor and then the smell oftobacco smoke. She was lying on her back, and her eyes at last beganto take in broad rafters and cobwebby timbers not far above herhead. The light was so dim that shadows and not real objects seemedto constitute the surroundings. Then there grew the certainty thatshe was not alone in this dismal place. Turning her head slightly, she was able, with some effort, to distinguish the figure of a manseated on the opposite side of the low, square room, his backagainst the wall, his legs outstretched. At his elbow, on a box, burned a candle, flickering and feeble in its worthlessness. He wassmoking a pipe, and there was about him an air of contentment andsecurity. 

Slowly past events crowded themselves into the path of memory, andher brain took them up as if they were parts of a dream. For manyminutes she was perfectly quiet, dumbly contemplating the strangerwho sat guard over her in that wretched place. In her mind there wasquickly developed, as one brings the picture from the film of anegative the truth of the situation. She had escaped from one set ofcaptors only to give herself into the clutches of others a thousandtimes more detestable, infinitely more evil-hearted. 

"You've come back to life, have you?"

She started violently and shivered as with a mighty chill at thesound of these words. They came from the slouching smoker. 

"Where am I?" she cried, sitting up, a dizzy whirling in her headHer bed was no more than a heavy piece of old carpet. 

"In the house of your friends, " laconically responded the voice, nowquite familiar. Her eyes swept the room in search of the priest. Hisrobes lay in a heap across her feet. "Where is Father Paul?" shedemanded. "He is no more, " said the man, in sombre tones. "I was heuntil an hour ago. "

"And you are no priest? Ah, God help me, what have I done? What haveI come to in my miserable folly?" she cried, covering her face withher hands. 

"Look here, Miss Garrison, " said the man, quietly. "I am no priest, but you have nothing to fear because of that fact. The truth is, Iam a detective. For a month I was in the employ of Prince Ravorelli, and it was no honest business, I can tell you. What I have doneto-night is straight and honest. I mean you no harm, and you havebut to follow my instructions in order to find yourself safe inBrussels once more. I have been interested in a number of queertransactions but let me say this in my own defence: I was neveremployed in any game so detestable, so low, as the one your nobleprince was playing when you were snatched away from him. The onlyregret I have in taking you back to your mother comes from the fearthat you may go ahead and marry that knave. "

Dorothy was listening, with wide eyes and bated breath, to the wordsof the lounging smoker. 

"I will never, never marry him, " she cried, vehemently. 

"Stick to that resolve, my child, " said Courant, with mockbenevolence. "He is a scoundrel, and I cut loose from him to do thislittle job down here on my own responsibility. "

"Tell me, if you know, did he plan to kill Mr. Quentin? I must havethe truth, " she cried, eagerly. 

"He did worse than that. He made the attempt, or rather his agentsdid. You see, Quentin was a dangerous rival because he knew toomuch. "

"I don't understand. "

"Well, he knew all about the prince when he was with the operacompany in Brazil. I can't tell you much about it, but there was amurder committed over there and your prince was believed to beguilty. A woman was killed, I believe. Quentin knew all about it, itseems. "

"And never told me?" she cried. 

"He was not positive, I suppose. There was the danger of beingmistaken, and this American friend of yours seems honest. He onlytold you what he knew to be a fact, I conclude. "

"Yesterday I heard that a woman had been murdered in Brussels, awoman who came to warn me against the prince. Do you know who killedher?"

"Good God! Has she been killed? Ah, I knew it would come; he wasobliged to get rid of her. I did not know of her death, but I leaveyou to guess who was responsible for it. God, he is a devil! You owea great deal, Mademoiselle, to the clever men who stole you fromhim. "

"Alas, I am beginning to know it, now that it is too late. And hewas ill when I stole away to-night. I implore you, take me back tothe castle!" she pleaded, her heart wrung by the anguish in hersoul. 

"So he is in the castle, eh? Just as I thought. I'd like to take youto him, especially as he is ill, but I must take care of number one. When I dropped out of one villain's employment I went into businessfor myself. You see, there is about 100, 000 francs reward for you, and there is the same for the bodies of the abductors. If I turn youover to your mother or her agents--not the prince, by the way--Iearn the reward. If I can procure the arrest of your abductors I getdouble the amount. You see how unbusiness-like it would be if I wereto let my sympathies get the better of me. "

"But I will give you 100, 000 francs if you will take me back to thecastle, " she cried, standing before him. 

"Have you the money with you?"

"Of course I have not, but it shall be yours as soon as I can--"

"Pardon. You are worth nothing to me in that castle, and you willbring a fortune in Brussels. "

In vain she pleaded with the stubborn detective, finally threateninghim with dire punishment if he refused to accede to her demands. Then he arose in sudden wrath, cursing her roundly and vowing sheshould not leave the room alive if she persisted in such threats. Hetold her that she was in a cave beneath the ruins of an old church, long the haunt of robbers, now the home of snakes and bats. Indeed, as he spoke a flittermouse scurried through the air within a foot ofher ear. 

"We rest here until to-morrow night, and then we start out to walk. You cannot be seen in that dress, either. I have clothing here inthis box for you to wear. My dear young lady, you must make believethat you are my younger brother for a day or two, at least. "

A look of horror came into her face, succeeded by the deep red ofinsulted modesty, and then the white of indignation. 

"I will die first, you wretch!" she exclaimed. In that moment shebelieved she could have killed the smiling rogue with her own hands. 

"We shall see, " he said, roughly. "Look at them; they arerespectable in cut and they are clean. " He drew the garments fromthe box, piece by piece, and held them before her flaming face. "I'mgoing out to take a look about the valley. You are quite safe here. No one knows where you are, and the robbers have been dead fortwenty years. One of them still has his skeleton in the room justoff this one, but he is a harmless old fellow. In an hour I willreturn, and we will eat. It is now three o'clock, and the sun willsoon be rising. To-night we venture forth as brothers, remember. "

He pulled his cap down over his eyes, buttoned his coat about histhroat, changed a revolver from one pocket to another, anddeliberately stalked across the room to the narrow door. An instantlater she heard the key rasp in the lock and she was alone. 

"Oh, heaven, if Philip Quentin could see me now! If he could buthear my sobs and see my tears! How he would rejoice, how he wouldlaugh, how he would pity me. This is your triumph, Philip Quentin, but you are not here to claim the wretched victory. Fool! Fool!Fool!"

She had thrown herself face downward on the patch of carpet and waswrithing in the agony of fear and regret. Suddenly there came to herears the distant report of a firearm, the rush of feet and thensomething heavy crashed against the little door. She was on her feetin an instant, cowering in the far corner of the room, her faceamong the cobwebs. Panic seized her, and she screamed aloud in herterror. Outside the door there were sounds of a savage struggle, butthey rapidly became indistinct, and finally passed beyond hearingaltogether. She ran to the door and pounded on it with hands thatknew not the bruises they were acquiring, and she moaned in the fearthat the rescuers, for such they surely must be, were leaving herbehind. 

"Phil! Phil!" she cried again and again. But there suddenly came toher a terrifying thought, and she fell back, cold and voiceless. Ugo! What if he had at last run the treacherous Courant to earth?What if the rescuer were he?

She slunk away from the door, the dampness of dread sending a chillto her heart. And when again the rush of footsteps brought a heavybody against the door, she had not the voice to cry out, so sure wasshe that Ugo Ravorelli was coming to her in that dismal hole. 

Then the door gave way, and Philip Quentin came plunging into theroom, hatless, coatless, his shirt in shreds. The mighty draft ofair from the open door killed the sickly candle-flame, but notbefore they had seen each other. For the second time that night shelost consciousness. 

At the bottom of a deep ravine lay the body of Courant. He had fledfrom before the two adversaries after a vain attempt to reenter theroom below the church and had blindly dashed over the cliff. Turk, with more charity than Courant had shown not many hours before, climbed down the dangerous steep, and, in horror, touched hisquivering hand. Then came the last gasp. 

XXIX

DOROTHY'S SOLUTION

Quentin carried her forth into the night. When Turk came upon him inthe darkness a few minutes later, he was wandering about thehilltop, the limp figure of the woman he loved in his arms, callingupon her to speak to him, to forgive him. The little man checked himjust in time to prevent an ugly fall over a steep embankment. 

"My God, she's dead, Turk!" he groaned, placing her tenderly on thegrassy sward and supporting her head with his arm. "The wretch haskilled her. "

"He's paid for it, if he did. I guess it's nothin' but a faint er afit. Does she have fits?" demanded Turk, earnestly. Quentin paid noheed to him, but feverishly began working with her, hope springingfrom Turk's surmise. 

"Turk, if she dies, I swear to God I'll kill myself this night!"cried he. 

"You're talkin' crazy, sir. She's comin' around all right, allright. Hear that? Her eyes'll be busy in a minute, and she'll beaskin' where she's at. Just keeled over, that's all. All women doesthat w'en they git's as glad as she wuz. They faint 'cause it'seasier'n it is to tell how much obliged they are. I know 'em. Theypass up hard jobs like that ontil they gits time t' look all palean' interestin' an' tuckered-out, an' then they ain't no use sayin'much obliged, 'cause th' man won't stand fer it a minute. "

Turk was kneeling opposite Quentin and was scratching match aftermatch, holding them above the pale face until they burnt his fingertips. When Dorothy at last opened her eyes she looked into the mostterrifying face she had ever seen, and, as the lids closed againspasmodically, a moan came from her lips. Turk's bristled face wascovered with blood that had dried hours ago, and he was a mostuncanny object to look upon. "Darn me, she's askeert of my mug! I'llduck ontil you puts her nex'. "

"Look up Dorothy! It is Phil! Don't be afraid, dearest; you aresafe!" He knew that her eyes were open again, although it was toodark to see them. 

"Is it you, Phil?" she whispered. 

"Yes, yes!"

"Where is--where is he?" in terror. 

"He cannot harm you now. He is gone. "

"But I saw his face just now. Oh, you are not telling me the truth!"

"You saw Turk's face, dearest. What a time we had in finding you!But you are safe now, thank God!"

She lay very still, striving to convince herself that she was awakeand that she was really listening to Philip Quentin's voice, hoarseand eager. Her hand went to his face, impulsively searching for thefeatures her eyes could not see. Strong ringers seized it, and dry, burning lips kissed it again and again--lips parched with fever. Theheart of the woman asserted itself at once, and concern succeededperplexity. 

"Oh, Phil, you are ill--you should not be here!" she cried, indistress, and, before he could prevent she was on her feet, swayingdizzily. 

"Then you are not hurt!" he cried. "Thank God for that!" His arm wasabout her waist, and a wave of security and contentment rolledthrough her being. 

"Take me back to the castle, Phil, " she said, simply. "You willnever know how unhappy I have been, how I have blamed myself forrunning away as I did. But, oh, I thought he was a priest, and Iwanted to prove that you could not keep me there. "

"You do not have to stay there, Dorothy, " he said, slowly. 

"What do you mean?"

"I have been a fool, an ingrate, a brute, but I will atone if it ispossible. In your note you said you would forgive the others. Idon't ask pardon for myself, but I implore you to shield them. Perhaps it is too late; this detective has exposed us--"

"He swore to me that he had not, but he knows everything, and maycarry the word to the authorities, " she interrupted, in distress. 

"The secret is safe if he worked alone, for he is dead. Don't befrightened; he fell over a cliff in the darkness. Turk!"

"Here, sir. "

"We must get back to the castle as soon as possible. It is fivemiles, at least. Try to find a trap of some sort at once. MissGarrison cannot walk that distance. "

"But I can and will, " she objected. "I am not hurt and I am strongerthan you. "

"Nonsense! I'm all right. I will return with you to Brusselsto-morrow. Your imprisonment is at an end. There is no need for youto think again of escape, for you are free to go at this moment. Come back to Lady Saxondale for a while, though, and when you areable to go with me we will take the train for Brussels. Believe me, I am sorry, but I am not fool enough to ask you to forgive. I don'tdeserve pardon, perhaps, but I know that my heart was in the rightand that I saved you from a much worse bondage than that which youhave spent in Castle Craneycrow. "

As if in a dream, she walked with him through the first faint lightof the dawning day, stunned by the unexpected words he had uttered. In her mind there began to grow, rebelliously, the fear that hewould do as he said! Turk, following close behind, suddenly gave aloud shout and sped away like a flash in front of them. 

"It's Mr. Savage, " he yelled back to the startled couple, "an' he'son horseback! Hi, there!"

As Dickey Savage came plunging up the slope, roaring with excitedjoy, she said to Ouentin, her voice low and intense:

"I know now that you saved me from a worse fate than death, Phil, and, if you ask, I will forgive as I hope you will forgive me. Courant was Ugo's tool, and I had the truth from him. You are thetruest, the best of friends, and I should--"

"Stop, Dorothy! Not now, some day, when you are home, after you havehad time to think over all that I have done, right and wrong, I maycome to you with the question I will not ask now. What I have sinnedfor, if you want to call it that, I will sue for some other day whenthe world is looking on. I will not make my prisoner pay penaltywithout a trial. "

"I want you to know that I do not hate you, " she argued, persistently. 

"But you hated me yesterday. "

"I did not. "

Just then Dickey pounced upon them, and, as they hurried to the spotwhere Turk was holding the newcomer's horse, Phil briefly told howhe and the little ex-burglar had accidentally stumbled upon thehiding-place of the pseudo priest after hours of hopeless search. The two pursuers, tired and despairing, were lying on the ground infront of the church ruins, taking a few moments of rest beforeclimbing to the summit of the hill, when the luckless Courantventured forth. With quick intuition, Turk called out thedetective's name, and the ruse worked. The man they could not seegave a snort of dismay and turned to reenter the door. And then camehis undoing. 

Turk was the general who planned the return to the castle. Heinsisted that Quentin, who was very weak, take Miss Garrison uponthe horse's back and ride, while he and Savage walked. In this waythey reached the gates of Craneycrow. It was like the home-coming ofloved ones who had been absent for years. Three women were in tears, and all of the men were in smiles. Quentin's was the smile of onebordering on delirium, however. A chill broke over him, and thefever in his body renewed its disputed sway. An hour later he was inbed, and Turk, dispatched by Dorothy Garrison, was riding to thenearest town for a physician, much against the wishes of the sickman. He stubbornly insisted that he would start with her forBrussels within twenty-four hours, and it was not until the doctortold him that he was in extreme danger of pneumonia that heconsented to keep to his bed. 

Resolutely he checked all desire to cry his love into the ear of thegentle nurse who sat with him for hours. He would not grant himselfthe slightest deviation from the course he had sworn to follow, andhe suffered more from restraint than from fever. She found herselflonging for the moment when he would call her to him and pour outthe love that would not be denied. He never spoke but she hoped forsigns of surrender; he never looked at her that she did not expecthis lips to utter the story his eyes were telling, What he enduredin that week of fever, under the strain of love's nursing, only hecould have told--and he told nothing. How she hungered for theluxury of one word, only she knew--and confessed unconsciously. 

Had the doctor told her that he was critically ill, she would havecast all restraint aside and wrung from him the words he was holdingback. But the unromantic little doctor calmly broke the fever, subdued the congestion, relieved the cough and told them that the"young man would be quite well in a few days if he took good care ofhimself. "

The days of convalescence were few, for the vigorous strength of thepatient had not been sapped to any great extent. They were days ofhappiness, however, for all who lived in Castle Craneycrow. Dickeyand Lady Jane solemnly and somewhat defiantly approached Lord Bob ona very important matter. He solemnly and discreetly gave hisconsent, and Dickey promised to be very, very good to her so long ashe lived. One day a real priest, Father Bivot, came to the castlegates to solicit alms for the poor of the neighborhood. He wasadmitted, refreshed and made glad by a single donation thatsurpassed in size the combined contributions of a whole valley. Itwas from him that they learned, with no little uneasiness of mind, that the body of Courant had been found, and that it had beenidentified by the Luxemburg authorities. The cause of his death wasa mystery that defied solution, however. 

The news that Courant had been found and identified made Quentin allthe more eager to carry out his design to restore Dorothy to hermother. He knew, and all knew, that it was but a question of a fewdays until Ugo and the police would put two and two together andcome racing into the valley, certain that Courant had been killed bythe abductors of Dorothy Garrison. 

One morning, therefore, shortly after the visit of Father Bivot, heasked Lord Saxondale for the use of a conveyance, announcing hisintention to drive with Dorothy to the nearest railway station. There was dismay in the heart of everyone who sat at what had been acheerful breakfast table. Quentin deliberately went on to say thathe would take no lackey, preferring to expose none but himself inthe undertaking. 

"Can you be ready in an hour, Dorothy?" he asked, after Saxondalehad reluctantly consented. 

"Do you insist on carrying out this Quixotic plan, Phil?" she asked, after a long pause. 

"Positively. "

"Then, I can be ready in half an hour, " she said, leaving the tableabruptly. 

"Confound it, Phil; she'd rather stay here, " said Dickey, miserably. 

"I intend to restore her to her mother, just the same. There's nouse discussing it, Dickey. If they don't throw me into jail atBrussels, I may return in a day or two. "

There was a faint flush in Dorothy's cheeks as she bade good-bye tothe party. Lady Saxondale sagely remarked, as the trap rolled out ofsight among the trees below the castle, that the flush was productof resentment, and Dickey offered to wager £20 that she would be anengaged girl before she reached Brussels. 

"Do you know the road, Phil?" asked Dorothy, after they had gonequite a distance in silence. She looked back as she spoke, and hereyes uttered a mute farewell to the grim old pile of stone on thecrest of the hill. 

"Father Bivot gave me minute directions yesterday, and I can't missthe way. It's rather a long drive, Dorothy, and a tiresome one foryou, perhaps. But the scenery is pretty and the shade of the forestwill make us think we are again in the Bois de la Cambre. 

"If I were you, I would not go to Brussels, " she said, after anotherlong period of silence, in which she painfully sought for means todissuade him from entering the city. She was. Thinking of the bigreward for his capture and of the greedy officials who could not bedenied. 

"Do you think I am afraid of the consequences?" he asked, bitterly. She looked at the white face and the set jaws and despaired. 

"You are not afraid, of course, but why should you be foolhardy? Whynot put me in the coach for Brussels and avoid the risk of beingseized by the police? I can travel alone. If you are taken, how canyou or I explain?" she went on, eagerly. 

"You have promised to shield the rest, " he said, briefly. 

"I know, but I want to shield you. Haven't I told you that I forgiveeverything? Don't make me unhappy, Phil. It would kill me now if youwere to fall into the hands of the police. They are crazy to catchmy abductors, and don't you remember what the paper said? It saidthe people would kill without mercy. Please, Phil, for my sake, don't go to Brussels. It is so unnecessary and so hazardous. "

"Pray, tell me what explanation you could give to your mother, tothe police, to the newspapers, if you suddenly appeared in Brussels, safe and sound, and yet unable to tell who had been your captors orwhere you have been held?" he grimly said. 

"I would not offer an explanation, " she said, decisively, as if thatsettled everything. 

"But you would be compelled to make some statement, my dear girl. You couldn't drop in there as if from the sky and not tell where youhave been and with whom. The truth would be demanded, and you couldnot refuse. What would the world, your mother, the prince, think--"

"Don't mention that man's name to me, " she cried. 

"Well, what would be the natural conclusion if you refused to givean explanation? Don't you see that the papers would make a sensationof the matter? There is no telling what they would say about you. The world would jump at the scandal bait, and you would be the mostnotorious of women, to be perfectly plain with you. If you refuse toexpose the people who abducted you, there could be but oneinference. It would simply mean that you were a party to the plotand fled to evade the wedding at St. Gudule's. Upon whom wouldsuspicion fall? Upon the man who was supposed to have sailed for NewYork, and upon his friends. Where have you been during the last fewweeks? If you did not answer, the world would grin and say, 'In NewYork, and of her own volition!' Don't you see, Dorothy, there is butone way to end this horrible mistake of mine? Only one way toprotect you from humiliation, even degradation?"

"You mean by--" she began, faintly, afraid to complete the dreadedsurmise. 

"By the surrender of the real criminal, " he said, calmly. 

"I will not agree to that!" she cried, imperatively. "If you giveyourself up to them, Philip Quentin, I will deny every word of yourconfession, " she went on, triumphantly. 

"I'm afraid they would doubt you, " he responded, but his heartleaped gladly. 

"And do you know what else I shall do if you persist? I'll tell theworld that you were not alone in this affair, and I'll send theofficers to Castle Craneycrow to arrest every--" she was cryinghysterically, when he interrupted. 

"But you have promised to shield them!"

"Promised! I will forget that I ever made a promise. Philip Quentin, either I go to Brussels alone or every person in Craneycrow goes toprison with you. I'll not spare one of them. Promise? What do I carefor that promise? Do as you like, Phil, but I mean every word ofit!"

"You wouldn't dare, Dorothy, you wouldn't dare!" he cried, imploringly. "They are not to blame. I am the guilty one. They arenot--"

"One way or the other, Phil!" she cried, firmly. "It is safety forall or disgrace for all. Now, will you go to Brussels?"

"But, my heavens, how can you explain to the world?" he cried, indeepest distress. 

"I have thought of all that. Providence gave me the solution, " shesaid, her face beaming with the joy of victory. 

"Not even Providence can supply an explanation, " he groaned. 

"You forget Courant, the dead man. He cannot deny the charge if Iconclude to accuse him of the crime. He is the solution!"

XXX

LOVE IS BLIND

"But Ugo can disprove it, " he said, after a moment's thought. 

"Only by confessing his own duplicity, " she said, tranquilly. 

"You will not marry him, Dorothy?"

She looked him full in the eyes, and no word could have answeredplainer than the disdain which swept across her lovely face. 

"What do you think of me, Phil?" she asked, in hurt tones, and heanswered with his eyes because he could not trust his voice. 

The longing to throw her arms about the man whose burning eyes hadset her heart afire was almost uncontrollable; the hope that hewould throw off restraint and cry out his love, drove her timidlyinto silent expectancy. His whole soul surged to his lips and eyes, but he fought back the words that would have made them both sohappy. He knew she loved him; the taintest whisper from him wouldcause her lips to breathe the passion her eyes revealed. And yet hewas strong enough to bide his time. 

How long this exquisite communion of thoughts lasted neither knewnor cared. Through the leafy wood they drove, in utter silence, bothunderstanding, both revealing, both waiting. He dared not look atthe glorious, love-lit face, he dared not speak to her, he dared nottempt the heart that might betray his head. It was he who at lastbroke that joyous calm, and his voice was husky with suppressedemotion. 

"You will not forget that some day I am coming to you as PhilQuentin and not in the mask of a bandit. "

''I shall expect you, robber, to appear before a certain tribunaland there explain, if you can, what led you to commit the crime thathas shocked the world, " she said, brightly. 

"I implore the leniency of the high court, " he said, tenderly. 

"The court can only put you on probation and exact the promise thatyou will never steal another girl. "

"And the length of probation?"

"For all your natural life, " demurely. 

"Then I must appeal to a higher court, " he said, soberly. 

"What?" she cried. "Do you object to the judgment?"

"Not at all, " he said, earnestly. "I will merely appeal to thehigher court for permission to live forever. " Both laughed with thebuoyancy that comes from suppressed delight. "It occurs to me, Dorothy, " said he, a few minutes later, "that we are a long time inreaching the town Father Bivot told me about. We seem to be in thewilds, and he said there were a number of houses within five milesof Craneycrow. Have we passed a single habitation?"

"I have not seen one, but I'm sorry the time seems long, " she said. 

"I wonder if we have lost the way, " he went on, a troubledexpression in his eyes. "This certainly isn't a highway, and he saidwe would come to one within three miles of the castle. See; it iseleven o'clock, and we have been driving for more than two hours ata pretty fair gait. By the eternal, Dorothy, we may be lost!"

"How delightful!" she cried, her eyes sparkling. 

"I don't believe you care, " he exclaimed, in surprise. 

"I should have said how frightful, " she corrected, contritely. 

"This isn't getting you on a train, by any manner of means, " hesaid. "Could I have misunderstood the directions he gave?" He wasreally disturbed. 

"And the poor horse seems so tired, too, " she said, serenely. 

"By Jove! Didn't we cross a stream an hour or so ago?" he cried. 

"A horrid, splashy little stream? We crossed it long ago. "

"Well, we shouldn't have crossed it, " he said, ruefully. "I shouldhave turned up the hill over the creek road. We're miles out of theway, Dorothy. "

"What shall we do?" she asked, with a brave show of dismay. 

"I don't know. We're in a deuce of a pickle, don't you see?" hesaid. 

"I can't say that I do see, " she said. "Can't we drive back to thecreek?"

"We could if I could turn the confounded trap about. But how, in thename of heaven, can I turn on a road that isn't wide enough for twobicycles to pass in safety? Steep, unclimable hill on our left, deepravine on our right. "

"And a narrow bit of a road ahead of us, " she said. "It looks verymuch as if the crooked and narrow path is the best this time. "

That narrow road seemed to have no end and it never widened. Thedriving at last became dangerous, and they realized that the tiredhorse was drawing them up a long, gradual slope. The way becamesteeper, and the road rough with rocks and ruts. Her composure wasrapidly deserting her, and he was the picture of impatience. 

"If we should meet anyone else driving, what would happen?" sheasked, fearfully. 

"We won't meet anyone, " he answered. "Nobody but a mountain goatwould wittingly venture up this road. This poor old nag is almostdead. This is a pretty mess! How do you like the way I'm taking youto the train?"

"Is this another abduction?" she asked, sweetly, and both laughedmerrily, in spite of their predicament. His haggard face, stillshowing the effects of illness, grew more and more troubled, and atlast he said they would have to get down from the trap, not only toavoid the danger of tipping over the cliff, but to relieve thehorse. In this sorry fashion they plodded along, now far above theforest, and in the cool air of the hilltops. 

"There certainly must be a top to this accursed hill, " he panted. Hewas leading the horse by the bit, and she was bravely trudging athis side. 

"There is a bend in the road up yonder, Phil, " she said. 

When they turned the bend in the tortuous mountain road, both drewup sharply, with a gasp of astonishment. For a long time neitherspoke, their bewildered minds struggling to comprehend the vastpuzzle that confronted them. Even the fagged horse pricked up hisears and looked ahead with interest. Not three hundred yards beyondthe bend stood the ruins of an enormous castle, "It is Craneycrow!" gasped the man, leaning dizzily against theshaft of the trap. She could only look at him in mute consternation. It was Craneycrow, beyond all doubt, but what supernatural power hadtransferred it bodily from the squarrose hill on which it had stoodfor centuries, to the spot it now occupied, grim and almostgrinning? "Is this a dream, Dorothy? Are we really back again?"

"I can't believe it, " she murmured. "We must be deceived by astrange resem--"

"There is Bob himself! Good heavens, this paralyzes me! Hey, Bob!Bob!"

A few minutes later a limping horse dragged his bones into thecourtyard and two shame faced travelers stood before a tauntingquartet, enduring their laughter, wincing under their jests, blushing like children when the shots went home. For hours they haddriven in a circle, rounding the great row of hills, at last comingto the very gate from which they had started forth so confidently. They were tired and hungry and nervous. 

"Did you telegraph your mother you were coming?" asked DickeySavage. 

"We did not even see a telegraph wire, " answered Dorothy, dismally. 

"What did you see?" he asked, maliciously, "You should not ask confusing questions, Richard, " reprimanded LadyJane, with mock severity. 

"Well, we'll try it over again to-morrow, " decided Quentin, doggedly. 

"Do you expect me to let you kill every horse I own?" demanded LordBob. "They can't stand these round-the-world pleasure trips everyday, don't you know. Glad to oblige you, my boy, but I must behumane. "

That evening Father Bivot came to the castle, just as they wereleaving the dinner table. He brought startling news. Not an hourbefore, while on his way from the nearest village, he had come upona big party of men, quartered on the premises of a gardener down thevalley. It required but little effort on his part to discover thatthey were officers from the capital, and that they were looking forthe place where Courant's body was found. The good Father alsolearned that detectives from Brussels were in the party, and thatone of the men was a prince. The eager listeners in CastleCraneycrow soon drew from the priest enough to convince them thatUgo was at the head of the expedition, and that it was a matter ofbut a few hours until he and his men would be knocking at the gates. 

"The prince did not address me, " said Father Bivot, "but listenedintently, as I now recall, to everything I said in response to theLuxemburg officer's questions. That person asked me if Lord RobertSaxondale owned a place in the valley, and I said that his lordshipdwelt in Castle Craneycrow. The men were very curious, and a tallItalian whispered questions to the officer, who put them to meroughly. There was no harm in telling them that his lordship washere with a party of friends--"

"Good Lord!" gasped Dickey, despairingly. 

"It is all over, " said Quentin, his face rigid. 

"What will they do?" demanded Dorothy, panic-stricken. 

"I do not understand your agitation, good friends, " said the priest, in mild surprise. "Have I done wrong in telling them you are here?Who are they? Are they enemies?"

"They are searching for me, Father Bivot, " said Dorothy, resignedly. 

"For you, my child?" in wonder. 

"They want to take me back to Brussels, You would not understand, Father, if I told you the story, but I do not want them to find mehere. "

A frightened servant threw open the door unceremoniously at thisjuncture and controlling his excitement with moderate success, announced that a crowd of men were at the gates, demandingadmission. 

"My God, Bob, this will ruin you and Lady Saxondale!" groanedQuentin. "What can we do? Escape by the underground passage?"

Lord Saxondale was the coolest one in the party. He squared hisshoulders, sniffed the air belligerently, and said he would take thematter in his own hands. 

"Frances, will you take Miss Garrison upstairs with you? And Jane, Isuspect you would better go, too The secret passage is not to beconsidered. If we attempt to leave the place, after the informationFather Bivot has given them, it will be a clean admission of guilt. We will face them down. They can't search the castle without mypermission, and they can't trespass here a minute longer than Idesire. Do you care to see the prince, Quentin?"

"See him? It is my duty and not yours to meet him. It means nothingto me and it means disgrace to you, Bob, Let me talk to--"

"If you intend to act like an ass, Phil, you shan't talk to him. Iam in control here, and I alone can treat with him and theofficers. "

"Please, sir, they are becoming very angry, and say they will breakdown the gates in the name of the law, " said the servant, reenteringhurriedly. 

"I will go out and talk to them about the law, " said Saxondale, grimly. "Don't be alarmed, Miss Garrison. We'll take care of you. Gad, you look as if you want to faint! Get her upstairs, Frances. "

"I must speak with you, Lord Saxondale, " cried Dorothy, clutchinghis arm and drawing him apart from the pale-faced group. Eagerly shewhispered in his ear, stamping her foot in reply to his blankobjections. In the end she grasped both his shoulders and looked upinto his astonished eyes determinedly, holding him firmly until henodded his head gravely. Then she ran across the room to the twoladies and the bewildered priest, crying to the latter:

"You must come upstairs and out of danger, Father. We have no timeto lose. Good luck to you, Lord Saxondale!" and she turned anexcited face to the three men who stood near the door. 

"He shall not have you, Dorothy, " cried Quentin. "He must kill mefirst. "

"Trust to Lord Saxondale's diplomacy, Phil, " she said, softly, asshe passed him on her way to the stairs. 

XXXI

HER WAY

The grim smile that settled on the faces of the three men after thewomen and the trembling priest had passed from the hall, was not oneof amusement. It was the offspring of a desperate, uneasy courage. 

"Quentin, the safety of those women upstairs depends on yourthoughtfulness. You must leave this affair to me. We can't keep themwaiting any longer. Gad, they will tear down the historic gate I hadso much difficulty in building last year. Wait for me here. I go tomeet the foe. "

Turk was standing in the courtyard with a revolver in his hand. LordBob commanded him to put away the weapon and to "stow hisbellicoseness. " Mere chance caused Turk to obey the command in full;half of it he did not understand. The voices outside the gate weremuch more subdued than his lordship expected, but he did not knowthat Prince Ugo had warily enjoined silence, fearing the flight ofthe prey. 

"Who is there?" called Lord Bob, from the inside

"Are you Lord Saxondale?" demanded a guttural voice on the outside. 

"I am. What is the meaning of this disturbance?"

"We are officers of the government, and we are looking for a personwho is within your walls. Open the gate, my lord. "

"How am I to know you are officers of the law? You may be a pack ofbandits. Come back to-morrow, my good friends. "

"I shall be compelled to break down your gate, sir, " came fromwithout, gruffly. 

"Don't do it. The first man who forces his way will get a bullet inhis head. If you can give me some assurance that you are officersand not thieves, I may admit you. " Lord Bob was grinning broadly, much to the amazement of the servant who held the lantern. Therewere whispers on the outside. 

"Prince Ravorelli is with us, my lord. Is he sufficient guarantee?"asked the hoarse voice. 

"Is Giovanni Pavesi there, also?" asked Saxondale, loudly. 

"I do not know him, my lord. The prince's companions are strangersto me. Is such a person here?" Lord Bob could almost see the look onUgo's face when the question was put to him. 

"I never heard the name, " came the clear voice of the Italian. "Myfriends are well known to Lord Saxondale. He remembers CountSallaconi and the Duke of Laselli. Two men from Brussels are alsohere--Captains Devereaux and Ruz. "

"I recognize the prince's voice, " said Saxondale, unlocking thegate. "Come inside, gentlemen, " he said, as he stood before thegroup. "Sorry to have kept you waiting, you know, but it is wise tobe on the safe side. So you are looking for some one who is in mycastle? May I inquire the name of that person?"

"You know very well, Lord Saxondale, " said Ugo, now taking the lead. He stood boldly, defiantly before the Englishman. 

"Carmenita Malban is dead, your excellency, " said Bob, coolly. 

"I do not know what you are talking about, sir, " grated the prince. "Dorothy Garrison is here, held against her will, and I, heraffianced husband, command you to surrender her. "

"Have you the authority to take her, if I refuse to obey?" asked theother, with exasperating coolness. 

"These officers have the authority to arrest you and to take herfrom your hands, violently, if necessary. "

"Oh, well, that makes a difference, of course. Miss Garrison ishere, Prince Ravorelli, but I doubt your authority to take heraway. "

"There is a reward for her, dead or alive, " said Court Sallaconi, savagely. 

"And for the abductors, " added the burly man from Luxemburg. "Ishall have to place you under arrest, my lord. "

"One moment, my good man. Miss Garrison is her own mistress, Ibelieve?" addressing the prince. 

"What has that to do with it?"

"I'm sure I don't know, but it maybe important. If you will kindlyrequest your followers to remain in the courtyard, you may enter thecastle and converse with Miss Garrison herself, Prince Paves--Ishould say Ravorelli. " There was a wild, hunted look in theItalian's eyes, and there was murder in his heart. "I will ask youand the count and the duke and Officer Luxemburg to come with me. "

With rare dignity Lord Saxondale strode across the flags anddeliberately threw open the huge castle door. After a moment ofindecision and not a little trepidation, Prince Ugo followed, withhis two countrymen not far behind. The Luxemburg officer gavehurried instructions to his men and took his place among the favoredfew. 

It was a sharply-drawn hiss, ending in a triumphant "ah, " that camefrom the lips of Ugo when he was face to face with Philip Quentin. His glittering eyes plainly said that his suspicions were confirmed. The discovery of the fact, a week before, that the two Americans hadnot sailed for New York provided the foundation for a shrewd guessand he had not been wrong. 

"It is as I suspected, " he said, tersely. "I trust I am not too lateto save Miss Garrison from outrage. "

"One moment, please, " commanded Lord Bob. "You are here throughsufferance, and you must, for the time being, imagine yourself agentleman. If you care to talk over the situation with us while wewait for Lady Saxondale and Miss Garrison, I shall be only too gladto have you do so. Will you be seated, gentlemen?"

"We are not here to be directed by you, Lord Saxondale. We havetracked this scoundrel to earth, and we are--" Ugo was saying hotlywhen his lordship turned on him sternly. 

"Mr. Quentin is my guest. Another remark of that character and Iwill throw you bodily from the room. This is my house, PrinceRavorelli. " Paying no heed to the malevolent glare in the Italian'seyes, Saxondale turned and bade a servant ask Miss Garrison to comedown if it pleased her to do so. 

"I presume Brussels is very much excited over Miss Garrison'sdisappearance, " said he to the livid-faced prince. 

"Brussels is horrified, but she will rejoice tomorrow. Thank God, wehave not toiled in vain. "

"Sit down. May I inquire for the health of Mrs. Garrison?" The fournewcomers, more or less ill at ease, sat down with Lord Bob, the twoAmericans standing. Quentin leaned against the big post at the footof the steps, his face the picture of gloomy defiance. 

"I am not her physician, sir. "

"Hoity-toity! She is quite well, then, I may reasonably infer. Canyou tell me whether she is in Brussels?"

"She will be in Luxemburg in the morning, if my message reaches herto-night. But we are not here for the purpose of bandying words withyou, sir. This house must be searched, whether you like it or not. Captain, call in your men, " cried the prince, his rage getting thebetter of him. 

"You will find that the door is barred, captain, " said Saxondale, easily. The expression that came into the faces of the four men wasone not soon to be forgotten. For a full minute there was absolutesilence. 

"Do you mean that we are prisoners?" demanded Ugo, his teethshowing, but not in a smile. 

"Not at all. The door has a habit of locking itself. "

"I command you to open that door!" cried the prince, looking abouthim like a trapped rat. He snarled with rage when he saw the smileon Quentin's face. Dickey's sudden chuckle threw dismay into theranks of the confident besiegers. 

"Do not be alarmed, gentlemen, " said Saxondale. "The door shall beopened in good time. Ah, I think the ladies are coming. "

As he spoke Dorothy and Lady Saxondale appeared at the top of thestairs. Ugo would have dashed up to meet them had not the twoAmericans blocked the way. Slowly Dorothy came down the oaken steps, followed by Lady Saxondale. Lady Jane and Father Bivot were not farbehind them. 

"Dorothy!" cried Ugo. "Thank heaven, I have found you!"

She stopped on the bottom step, within arm's length of PhilipQuentin. There was a moment of indecision, a vivid flush leaped intoher lovely cheek, and then her hand went quickly forth and rested onQuentin's shoulder. He started and looked at her for the first time. 

"I am sorry, Ugo, for the wrong I have done you, " she said, steadily, but her hand trembled convulsively on Phil's shoulder. Mechanically he reached up and took the slim fingers in his broad, strong hand and rose to the step beside her. 

"The wrong?" murmured the prince, mechanically. 

"In running away from you as I did, " she said, hurriedly, as ifdoubting her power to proceed. "It was heartless of me, and itsubjected you to the crudest pain and humiliation. I cannot ask youto forgive me. You should despise me. "

"Despise you?" he gasped, slowly. The truth began to dawn on two menat the same time. Ugo's heart sank like a stone and Quentin's leapedas if stung by an electric shock. His figure straightened, his chinwas lifted, and the blood surged from all parts of his body to histurbulent heart. 

"I loved him, Prince Ravorelli, better than all the world. It was ashameless way to leave you, but it was the only way, " she said, hervoice full. Then she lifted her eyes to Quentin's and for the momentall else was forgotten. 

"My God, you--you did not leave Brussels of your own free will!"cried the prince, his eyes blazing, Sallaconi and Laselli movedtoward the door, and the police officer's face was a study. 

"I ran away with the man I love, " she answered, bravely. 

"It is a lie!" shrieked the Italian. Saxondale seized his hand intime to prevent the drawing of a revolver from his coat pocket. "'Damn you! This is a trick!"

"You have Miss Garrison's word for it, your excellency. She was notabducted, and your search has been for naught, " said the bigEnglishman. "There are no abductors here. The famous abduction was apart of the game and it was abetted by the supposed victim. "

"But there is a reward for her return to Brussels, " interrupted theLuxemburg official, speaking for the first time. "I must insist thatshe come with me. "

"The reward is for Dorothy Garrison, is it not?" demanded Saxondale. 

"Yes, my lord. "

"Well, as you cannot get out of the castle and your friends cannotget into it until we open the doors, there is absolutely nopossibility of your taking Dorothy Garrison to Brussels. "

"Do you mean to oppose the law?" cried Ugo, panting with rage. 

"Gentlemen, as the host in Castle Craneycrow, I invite you towitness the marriage ceremony which is to make it impossible for youto take Dorothy Garrison to Brussels. You have come, gentlemen--atrifle noisily and unkindly, I admit--just in time to witness thewedding of my two very good friends who eloped with the sound ofwedding bells in their ears. Father Bivot, the bride and groom awaityou. "

"Dorothy, my darling, " whispered Quentin. She turned her burningface away. 

"It is my way, Phil. I love you, " she murmured. 

THE END