The Man from Brodney's (2024)

By

George Barr McCutcheon

Author of

The Daughter of Anderson Crow, Graustark, Beverly of Graustark,Brewster's Millions, Nedra, etc.

With Illustrations by Harrison Fisher

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

"He saw the Princess for the first time that afternoon"

"'Don't you intend to present me to Lady Deppingham?'"

"'No,' she said to herself, 'I told him I was keeping them for him'"

"He felt that Genevra was still looking into his eyes"

THE MAN FROM BRODNEY'S

CHAPTER I

THE LATE MR. SKAGGS

The death of Taswell Skaggs was stimulating, to say the least,inapplicable though the expression may seem.

He attained the end of a hale old age by tumbling aimlessly into themouth of a crater on the island of Japat, somewhere in the mysteriousSouth Seas. The volcano was not a large one and the crater, thoughsomewhat threatening at times, was correspondingly minute, whichexplains—in apology—to some extent, his unfortunate misstep.

Moreover, there is but one volcano on the surface of Japat; it seems allthe more unique that he, who had lived for thirty years or more on theisland, should have stepped into it in broad daylight, especially as itwas he who had tacked up warning placards along every avenue ofapproach.

Inasmuch as he was more than eighty years old at the time, it would seemto have been a most reprehensible miscalculation on the part of the GrimReaper to have gone to so much trouble.

But that is neither here nor there.

Taswell Skaggs was dead and once more remembered. The remark is proper,for the world had quite thoroughly forgotten him during the twenty oddyears immediately preceding his death. It was, however, noticeably worthwhile to remember him at this particular time: he left a last will andtestament that bade fair to distress as well as startle a great manypeople on both sides of the Atlantic, among whom it may be well toinclude certain distinguished members of the legal profession.

In Boston the law firm of Bowen & Hare was puzzling itself beyond reasonin the effort to anticipate and circumvent the plans of the firm ofBosworth, Newnes & Grapewin, London, E.C.; while on the other side ofthe Atlantic Messrs. Bosworth, Newnes & Grapewin were blindly strugglingto do precisely the same thing in relation to Messrs. Bowen & Hare.

Without seeking to further involve myself, I shall at once conduct thereader to the nearest of these law offices; he may hear something to hisown interest from Bowen & Hare. We find the partners sitting in theprivate room.

"Pretty badly tangled, I declare," said Mr. Hare, staring helplessly athis senior partner.

"Hopelessly," agreed Mr. Bowen, very much as if he had at first intendedto groan.

Before them on the table lay the contents of a bulky envelope: a longand stupendous letter from their London correspondents and with it acopy of Taswell Skaggs's will. The letter had come in the morning'smail, heralded by a rather vague cablegram the week before. To be brief,Mr. Bowen recently had been named as joint executor of the will,together with Sir John Allencrombie, of London, W.C., one time neighbourof the late Mr. Skaggs. A long and exasperating cablegram had touchedsomewhat irresolutely upon the terms of the will, besides notifying himthat one of the heirs resided in Boston. He was instructed to apprisethis young man of his good fortune. This he delayed in doing until afterhe had obtained more definite information from England. The full andcomplete statement of facts was now before him.

There was one very important, perhaps imposing feature in connectionwith the old gentleman's will: he was decidedly sound of mind and bodywhen it was uttered.

When such astute lawyers as Bowen & Hare give up to amazement, the usualforerunner of consternation, it is high time to regard the case asstartling. Their practice was far-reaching and varied; imperviousnesshad been acquired through long years of restraint. But this day theywere sharply ousted from habitual calmness into a state of mindbordering on the ludicrous.

"Read it again, Bowen."

"The will?"

"No; the letter."

Whereupon Mr. Bowen again read aloud the letter from Bosworth, Newnes &Grapewin, this time slowly and speculatively.

"They seem as much upset by the situation as we," he observedreflectively.

"Extraordinary state of affairs, I must say."

"And I don't know what to do about it—I don't even know how to begin.They're both married."

"And not to each other."

"She's the wife of a Lord-knows-what-kind-of-a-lord, and he's married toan uncommonly fine girl, they say, notwithstanding the fact that she haslarger social aspirations than he has means."

"And if that all-important clause in the will is not carried out to theletter, the whole fortune goes to the bow-wows."

"Practically the same thing. He calls them 'natives,' that's all. Itlooks to me as though the bow-wows will get the old man's millions. Idon't see how anything short of Providence can alter the situation."

Mr. Bowen looked out over the house-tops and Mr. Hare laughed softlyunder his breath.

"Thank heaven, Bowen, he names you as executor, not me."

"I shall decline to serve. It's an impossible situation, Hare. In thefirst place, Skaggs was not an intimate friend of mine. I met him inConstantinople five years ago and afterward handled some business forhim in New York. He had no right to impose upon me as if------"

"But why should you hesitate? You have only to wait for the year to rollby and then turn your troubles over to the natives. Young Browne can'tmarry Miss Ruthven inside of a year, simply because there is no MissRuthven. She's Lady—Lady—what's the name?"

"Deppingham."

"And Browne already has one Mrs. Browne to his credit, don't you see?Well, that settles it, I'd say. It's hardly probable that Browne willmurder or divorce his wife, nor is it likely that her ladyship wouldhave the courage to dispose of her encumbrance in either way on suchshort notice."

"But it means millions to them, Hare."

"That's their unfortunate lookout. You are to act as an executor, not asa matrimonial agent."

"But, man, it's an outrage to give all of it to those wretchedislanders. Bosworth says that rubies and sapphires grow there likemushrooms."

"Bosworth also says that the islanders are thrifty, intelligent and willfight for their rights. There are lawyers among them, he says, as wellas jewel diggers and fishermen."

"Skaggs and Lady Deppingham's grandfather were the only white men whoever lived there long enough to find out what the island had stored upfor civilisation. That's why they bought it outright, but I'm hanged ifI can see why he wants to give it back to the natives."

"Perhaps he owes it to them. He doubtless bought it for a song and,contrary to all human belief, he may have resurrected a conscience.Anyhow, there remains a chance for the heirs to break the will."

"It can't be done, Hare, it can't be done. It's as clean an instrumentas ever survived a man."

It is, by this time, safe for the reader to assume that Mr. TaswellSkaggs had been a rich man and therefore privileged to be eccentric. Itis also time for the writer to turn the full light upon the tragiccomedy which entertained but did not amuse a select audience of lawyerson both sides of the Atlantic. As this tale has to do with theadventures of Taswell Skaggs's heirs and not with the strange oldgentleman who sleeps his last sleep literally in the midst of the islandof Japat, it is eminently wise to make as little as possible of him.

Mr. Skaggs came of a sound old country family in upper England, butseems to have married a bit above his station. His wife was serving asgoverness in the home of a certain earl when Taswell won her heart anddragged her from the exalted position of minding other people's childreninto the less conspicuous one of caring for her own. How the uncouthcountry youth—not even a squire—overcame her natural prejudice againstthe lower classes is not for me to explain. Sufficient to announce, theywere married and lived unhappily ever afterward.

Their only son was killed by a runaway horse when he was twenty, andtheir daughter became the wife of an American named Browne when she wasscarcely out of her teens. It was then that Mr. Skaggs, practicallychildless, determined to make himself wifeless as well.

He magnanimously deeded the unentailed farm to his wife, turned hissecurities into cash and then set forth upon a voyage of exploration. Itis common history that upon one dark, still night in December he saidgood-bye forever to the farm and its mistress; but it is doubtful ifeither of them heard him.

To be "jolly well even" with him, Mrs. Skaggs did a most priggish thing.She died six months later. But, before doing so, she made a will inwhich she left the entire estate to her daughter, effectually deprivingthe absent husband of any chance to reclaim his own.

Taswell Skaggs was in Shanghai when he heard the news. It was on aFriday. His informant was that erstwhile friend, Jack Wyckholme.Naturally, Skaggs felt deeply aggrieved with the fate which permittedhim to capitulate when unconditional surrender was so close at hand. Hislanguage for one brief quarter of an hour did more to upset the progressof Christian endeavour in the Far East than all the idols in the ChineseEmpire.

"There's nawthin' in England for me, Jackie. My gal's a bloomin'foreigner by this time and she'll sell the bleedin' farm, of course.She's an h'American, God bless 'er 'eart. I daresay if I'd go to 'er andsay I'd like my farm back again she'd want to fork hover, but 'er bloody'usband wouldn't be for that sort of hextravagance. 'E'd boot me off thehisland."

"The United States isn't an island, Tazzy," explained Mr. Wyckholme,gulping his brandy and soda.

Mr. Wyckholme was the second son of Sir Somebody-or-other and hadmarried the vicar's daughter. This put him into such bad odour with hisfamily that he hurried off to the dogs—and a goodly sized menageriebesides, if the records of the inebriate's asylum are to be credited.His wife, after enduring him for sixteen years, secured a divorce. Itmay not have been intended as an insult to the scapegoat, but no soonerhad she freed herself from him than his father, Sir Somebody-or-other,took her and her young daughter into the ancestral halls and gave them amuch-needed abiding-place. This left poor Mr. Jack quite completely outin the world—and he proceeded to make the best and the worst of itwhile he had the strength and ambition. Accepting the world as his home,he ventured forth to visit every nook and cranny of it. In course oftime he came upon his old-time neighbour and boyhood friend, TaswellSkaggs, in the city of Shanghai. Neither of them had seen the BritishIsles in two years or more.

"'Ow do you know?" demanded Taswell.

"Haven't I been there, old chap? A year or more? It's a rotten big placewhere gentlemen aspire to sell gloves and handkerchiefs and needleworkover the shop counters. At any rate, that's what every one said everyone else was doing, and advised me to—to get a situation doing thesame. You know, Tazzy, I couldn't well afford to starve and I wouldn'tsell things, so I came away. But it's no island."

"Well, that's neither here nor there, Jackie. I 'aven't a 'ome and you'aven't a 'ome, and we're wanderers on the face of the earth. My wifeplayed me a beastly trick, dying like that. I say marriage is a bloomingnuisance."

"Marriage, my boy, is the convalescence from a love affair. One wants toget out the worst way but has to stay in till he's jolly well cured. Formy part, I'm never going back to England."

"Nor I. It would be just like me, Jackie, to 'ave a relapse and neverget out again."

The old friends, with tear-dimmed eyes, shook hands and vowed thatnothing short of death should part them during the remainder of theirjourney through life. That night they took an inventory. Jack Wyckholme,gentleman's son and ne'er-do-well, possessed nine pounds and a fraction,an appetite and excellent spirits, while Taswell Skaggs exhibited abalance of one thousand pounds in a Shanghai bank, a fairly successfultrade in Celestial necessities, and an unbounded eagerness to change hisluck.

"I have a proposition to make to you, Tazzy," said Mr. Wyckholme, latein the night.

"I think I'll listen to it, Jackie," replied Mr. Skaggs, quite soberly.

As the outcome of this midnight proposition, Taswell Skaggs and JohnWyckholme arrived, two months later, at the tiny island of Japat,somewhere south of the Arabian Sea, there to remain until their dyingdays and there to accumulate the wealth which gave the first named achance to make an extraordinary will. For thirty years they lived on theisland of Japat. Wyckholme preceded Skaggs to the grave by two wintersand he willed his share of everything to his partner of thirty years'standing. But there was a proviso in Wyckholme's bequest, just as therewas in that of Skaggs. Each had made his will some fifteen years or morebefore death and each had bequeathed his fortune to the survivor. At thedeath of the survivor the entire property was to go to the grandchild ofeach testator, with certain reservations to be mentioned later on, eachhaving, by investigation, discovered that he possessed a singlegrandchild.

The island of Japat had been the home of a Mohammedan race, theoutgrowth of Arabian adventurers who had fared far from home many yearsbefore Wyckholme happened upon the island by accident. It was a Britishpossession and there were two or three thousand inhabitants, allMohammedans. Skaggs and Wyckholme purchased the land from the natives,protected and eased their rights with the government and proceeded torealise on what the natives had unwittingly prepared for them. In courseof time the natives repented of the deal which gave the Englishmen theright to pick and sell the rubies and other precious stones that theyhad been trading away for such trifles as silks, gewgaws and women; arevolution was imminent. Whereupon the owners organised the entirepopulation into a great stock company, retaining four-fifths of theproperty themselves. This seemed to be a satisfactory arrangement,despite the fact that some of the more warlike leaders were difficult toappease. But, as Messrs. Wyckholme and Skaggs owned the land and theother grants, there was little left for the islanders but arbitration.It is only necessary to add that the beautiful island of Japat, standinglike an emerald in the sapphire waters of the Orient, brought millionsin money to the two men who had been unlucky in love.

And now, after more than thirty years of voluntary exile, both of themwere dead, and both of them were buried in the heart of an island ofrubies, their deed and their deeds remaining to posterity—withreservations.

CHAPTER II

AN EXTRAORDINARY DOCUMENT

It appears that the Messrs. Skaggs and Wyckholme, as their dual careerdrew to a close, set about to learn what had become of their daughters.Investigation proved that Wyckholme's daughter had married a Londonartist named Ruthven. The Ruthvens in turn had one child, a daughter.Wyckholme's wife and his daughter died when this grandchild was eight orten years old. By last report, the grandchild was living with her fatherin London. She was a pretty young woman with scores of admirers on herhands and a very level head on her shoulders.

Wyckholme held to his agreement with Skaggs by bequeathing his share ofthe property to him, but it was definitely set forth that at the deathof his partner it was to go to Agnes Ruthven, the grandchild—withreservations.

Skaggs found that his daughter, who married Browne the American,likewise had died, but that she had left behind a son and heir. Thisson, Robert Browne, was in school when the joint will was designed, andhe was to have Skaggs's fortune at the death of Wyckholme, in case thatworthy survived.

All this would have been very simple had it not been for theinstructions and conditions agreed upon by the two men. In order to keepthe business and the property intact and under the perpetual control ofone partnership, the granddaughter of Wyckholme was to marry thegrandson of Skaggs within the year after the death of the survivingpartner. The penalty to be imposed upon them if the conditions were notcomplied with—neither to be excusable for the defection of theother—lay in the provision that the whole industry and its accumulatedfortune, including the land (and they owned practically the entireisland), was to go to the islanders—or, in plain words, to the originalowners, their heirs, share and share alike, all of which was set forthconcisely in a separate document attached. Wyckholme named Sir JohnAllencrombie as one executor and Skaggs selected Alfred Bowen, ofBoston, as the other.

As Wyckholme was the first to die, Skaggs became sole owner of theisland and its treasures, and it was he who made the final will inaccordance with the original plans.

The island of Japat with its jewels and its ancient château—of modernconstruction—represented several million pounds sterling. Its ownershad accumulated a vast fortune, but, living in seclusion as they did,were hard put for means to spend any considerable part of it.Wyckholme's dream of erecting an exact replica of a famous old châteaufound response in the equally whimsical Skaggs, who constantly bemoanedthe fact that it was impossible to spend money. For five years after itscompletion the two old men, with an army of Arabian retainers and Nubianslaves, lived like Oriental potentates in the huge structure on thehighlands overlooking the sea.

Skaggs seldom went from one part of his home to another without a guide.It was so vast and so labyrinthine that he feared he might become lostforever. The dungeon below the château, and the moat with its bridges,were the especial delight of these lonely, romantic old chaps. One ofthe builders of this rare pile was now sleeping peacefully in thesarcophagus beneath the chapel; the other was lying dead andundiscovered in the very heart of his possessions. Their executors weresourly wondering whether the two venerable testators were not even thengrinning from those far-away sepulchres in contemplation of the firstfeud their unprimitive castle was to know.

The magnificent plans of the partners would have been a glorious tributeto romance had it not been for one fatal obstacle. The trouble was thatneither young Miss Ruthven nor young Mr. Browne knew that theirgrandfathers lived, much less that they owned an island in the SouthSeas. Therefore it is quite natural that they could not have known theywere expected to marry each other. In complete but blissful ignorancethat the other existed, the young legatees fell in love with personsunmentioned in the will and performed the highly commendable butexceedingly complicating act of matrimony. This emergency, it is humaneto suspect, had not revealed itself to either of the grandfathers.

Miss Ruthven, from motives peculiar to the head and not to the heart,set about to earn a title for herself. Three months before the death ofMr. Skaggs she was married to Lord Deppingham, who possessed a title anda country place that rightfully belonged to his creditors. Mr. Browne,just out of college, hung out his shingle as a physician and surgeon,and forthwith, with all the confidence his profession is supposed toinspire, proceeded to marry the daughter of a brokerage banker in Bostonand at once found himself struggling with the difficulties of Back Baysociety.

A clause in the will, letter of instruction attached, demanded that thetwo grandchildren should take up their residence in the château withinsix months after the death of the testator, there to remain through thecompulsory days of courtship up to and including the wedding day. Fourmonths had already passed. It was also stipulated that the executorsshould receive £10,000 each at the expiration of their year ofservitude, provided it was shown in court that they had carried out thewishes of the testator, or, in failing, had made the most diligenteffort within human power.

"It is very explicit," murmured Mr. Hare, for the third time. "I supposethe first step is to notify young Mr. Browne of his misfortune. Hislordship has the task of breaking the news to Lady Deppingham."

"You are assuming that I intend to act under this ridiculous will."

"Certainly. It means about $50,000 to you at the end of the year, withnothing to do but to notify two persons of the terms in the will. Ifthey're not divorced and married again at the end of the year, you andSir John simply turn everything over to the Malays or whatever they are.It's something like 'dust to dust,' isn't it, after all? I think it'seasy sledding for you."

Mr. Bowen was eventually won over by Mr. Hare's enthusiasm."Notifications" took wing and flew to different parts of the world,while many lawyers hovered like vultures to snatch at the bones should awar at law ensue.

Young Mr. Browne (he was hardly a doctor even in name) hastened downtownin response to a message from the American executor, and was told of thewill which had been filed in England, the home land of the testator. Tosay that this debonair, good-looking young gentleman was flabbergastedwould be putting it more than mildly. There is no word in the Englishlanguage strong enough to describe his attitude at that perilous moment.

"What shall I do—what can I do, Mr. Bowen?" he gasped, bewildered.

"Consult an attorney," advised Mr. Bowen promptly.

"I'll do it," shouted "Bobby" Browne, one time halfback on his collegeeleven. "Break the will for me, Mr. Bowen, and I'll give—"

"I can't break it, Bobby. I'm its executor."

"Good Lord! Well, then, who is the best will-breaker you know, please?Something has to be done right away."

"I'm afraid you don't grasp the situation. Now if you were not marriedit would—"

"I wouldn't give up my wife for all the islands in the universe. That'ssettled. You don't know how happy we are. She's the—"

"Yes, yes, I know," interrupted the wily Mr. Bowen. "Don't tell me aboutit. She's a stumbling block, however, even though we are agreed thatshe's a most delightful one. Your co-legatee also possesses a block,perhaps not so delicate, but I daresay she feels the same about hers asyou do about yours. I can't advise you, my boy. Go and see Judge Garrettover in the K---- building. They say he expects to come back from thegrave to break his own will."

Ten minutes later an excited young man rushed into an office in theK---- building. Two minutes afterward he was laying the case before thatdistinguished old counsellor, Judge Abner Garrett.

"You will have to fight it jointly," said Judge Garrett, afterextracting the wheat from the chaff of Browne's remarks. "You can't takehers away from her and she can't get yours. We must combine against thenatives. Come back to-morrow at two."

Promptly at two Browne appeared, eager-eyed and nervous. He had leftbehind him at home a miserable young woman with red eyes and chokingbreath who bemoaned the cruel conviction that she stood between him andfortune.

"But hang it all, dearest, I wouldn't marry that girl if I had thechance. I'd marry you all over again to-day if I could," he had criedout to her, but she wondered all afternoon if he really meant it. Itnever entered her head to wonder if Lady Deppingham was old or young,pretty or ugly, bright or dull. She had been Mrs. Browne for threemonths and she could not quite understand how she had been so happy upto this sickening hour.

Judge Garrett had a copy of the will in his hand. He looked dubious,even dismayed.

"It's as sound as the rock of Gibraltar," he announced dolefully.

"You don't mean it!" gasped poor Bobby, mopping his fine Harvard brow,his six feet of manhood shrinking perceptibly as he looked about for achair in which to collapse. "C—can't it be smashed?"

"It might be an easy matter to prove either of these old gentlemen tohave been insane, but the two of them together make it out of thequestion----"

"Darned unreasonable."

"What do you mean, sir?" indignantly.

"I mean—oh, you know what I mean. The conditions and all that. Why, theold chumps must have been trying to prove their grandchildren insanewhen they made that will. Nobody but imbeciles would marry people they'dnever seen. I----"

"But the will provides for a six months' courtship, Dr. Browne, I'msorry to say. You might learn to love a person in less time and stillretain your mental balance, you know, especially if she were pretty andan heiress to half your own fortune. I daresay that is what they werethinking about."

"Thinking? They weren't thinking of anything at all. They weren'tcapable. Why didn't they consider the possibility that things might turnout just as they have?"

"Possibly they did consider it, my boy. It looks to me as if they didnot care a rap whether it went to their blood relatives or to theislanders. I fancy of the two they loved the islanders more. At anyrate, they left a beautiful opening for the very complications which nowconspire to give the natives their own, after all. There may be somesort of method in their badness. More than likely they concluded to letluck decide the matter."

"Well, I guess it has, all right."

"Don't lose heart. It's worth fighting for even if you lose. I'd hate tosee those islanders get all of it, even if you two can't marry eachother. I've thought it over pretty thoroughly and I've reached aconclusion. It's necessary for both of you to be on the ground accordingto schedule. You must go to the island, wife or no wife, and there's notmuch time to be lost. Lady Deppingham won't let the grass grow under herfeet if I know anything about the needs of English nobility, and I'llbet my hat she's packing her trunks now for a long stay in Japat. Youhave farther to go than she, but you must get over there inside ofsixty days. I daresay your practice can take care of itself,"ironically. Browne nodded cheerfully. "You can't tell what may happen inthe next six months."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's possible that you may become a widower and she a wid—"

"Good heaven, Judge Garrett! Impossible!" gasped Bobby Browne, clutchingthe arms of his chair.

"Nothing is impossible, my boy—"

"Well, if that's what you're counting on you can count me out, I won'tspeculate on my wife's death."

"But, man, suppose that it did happen!" roared the judge irascibly."You should be prepared for the best—I mean the worst. Don't look likea sick dog. We've got to watch every corner, that's all, and beJohnny-on-the-spot when the time comes. You go to the island at once.Take your wife along if you like. You'll find her ladyship there, andshe'll need a woman to tell her troubles to. I'll have the papers readyfor you to sign in three days, and I don't think we'll have any troublegetting the British heirs to join in the suit to overthrow the will. Theonly point is this: the islanders must not have the advantage that yourabsence from Japat will give to them. Now, I'll----"

"But, good Lord, Judge Garrett, I can't go to that confounded island,"wailed Browne. "Take my wife over among those heathenish----"

"Do you expect me to handle this case for you, sir?"

"Sure."

"Then let me handle it. Don't interfere. When you start in to getsomebody else's money you have to do a good many things you don't like,no matter whether you are a lawyer or a client."

"But I don't like the suggestion that my wife will be obliged to die inorder----"

"Please leave all the details to me, Mr. Browne. It may not be necessaryfor her to die. There are other alternatives in law. Give the lawyers achance. We'll see what we can do. Besides, it would be unreasonable toexpect his lordship to die also. All you have to do is to plant yourselfon that island and stay there until we tell you to get off."

"Or the islanders push me off," lugubriously.

"Now, listen intently and I'll tell you just what you are to do."

Young Mr. Browne went away at dusk, half reeling under theresponsibility of existence, and eventually reached the side of theanxious young woman uptown. He bared the facts and awaited the wail ofdismay.

"I think it will be perfectly jolly," she cried, instead, and kissed himrapturously.

Over on the opposite side of the Atlantic the excitement in certaincircles was even more intense than that produced in Boston. LordDeppingham needed the money, but he was a whole day in grasping the factthat his wife could not have it and him at the same time. The beautifuland fashionable Lady Deppingham, once little Agnes Ruthven, came as nearto having hysteria as Englishwomen ever do, but she called in a lawyerinstead of a doctor. For three days she neglected her social duties (andthey were many), ignored her gallant admirers (and they were many), andhurried back and forth between home and chambers so vigorously that hislordship was seldom closer than a day behind in anything she did.

There was a great rattling of trunks, a jangling of keys, a thousandgood-byes, a cast-off season, and the Deppinghams were racing away forthe island of Japat somewhere in the far South Seas.

CHAPTER III

INTRODUCING HOLLINGSWORTH CHASE

While all this was being threshed out by the persons most vitallyinterested in the affairs of Taswell Skaggs and John Wyckholme, eventsof a most unusual character were happening to one who not only had nointerest in the aforesaid heritage, but no knowledge whatever of itsexistence. The excitement attending the Skaggs-Wyckholme revelations hadnot yet spread to the Grand Duchy of Rapp-Thorberg, apparently lost asit was in the cluster of small units which went to make up a certainempire: one of the world powers. The Grand Duke Michael disdained theworld at large; he had but little in common with anything that movedbeyond the confines of his narrow domain. His court was sleepy,lackadaisical, unemotional, impregnable to the taunts of progression;his people were thrifty, stolid and absolutely stationary in theirloyalty to the ancient traditions of the duchy; his army was a merematter of taxation and not a thing of pomp or necessity. Four times ayear he inspected the troops, and just as many times in the year werethe troops obliged to devote themselves to rigorous display. The rest ofthe time was spent in social intrigue and whistling for the war-cloudsthat never came.

The precise location of the Grand Duchy in the map of the world haslittle or nothing to do with this narrative; indeed, were it not for thefact that the Grand Duke possessed a charming and most desirabledaughter, the Thorberg dynasty would not be mentioned at all. For thatmatter, it is brought to light briefly for the sole purpose ofidentifying the young lady in question, and the still more urgent desireto connect her past with her future—for which we have, perhapsintemperately, an especial consideration. It is only necessary,therefore, for us to step into and out of the Grand Duchy without theprocrastination usual in a sojourner, stopping long enough only to seehow tiresome it would be to stay, and to wonder why any one remained whocould get away. Not that the Grand Duchy was an utterly undesirableplace, but that too much time already had been wasted there by thepopulace itself.

It has been said that events of a most unusual character were happening;any event that roused the people from their daily stolidity wassufficiently unusual to suggest the superlative. The Grand Duke's peaceof mind had been severely disturbed—so severely, in fact, that he wastransferring his troubles to the Emperor, who, in turn, felt obliged tocommunicate with the United States Ambassador, and who, in his turn, hadno other alternative than to take summary action in respect to theindiscretions of a fellow-countryman.

In the beginning, it was not altogether the fault of the young man whohad come from America to serve his country. Whatever may have been theturmoil in the Grand Duke's palace at Thorberg, Chase's conscience waseven and serene. He had no excuses to offer—for that matter none wouldhave been entertained—and he was resigning his post with the confidencethat he had performed his obligations as an American gentleman should,even though the performance had created an extraordinary commotion.Chase was new to the Old World and its customs, especially thoserigorous ones which surrounded royalty and denied it the right toventure into the commonplace. The ambassador at the capital of theEmpire at first sought to excuse him on the ground of ignorance; but theGrand Duke insisted that even an American could not be such a fool asChase had been; so, it must have been a wilful offence that led up tothe controversy.

Chase had been the representative of the American Government at Thorbergfor six months. He never fully understood why the government should havea representative there; but that was a matter quite entirely for thePresident to consider. The American flag floated above his doorway inthe Friedrich Strasse, but in all his six months of occupation not tenAmericans had crossed the threshold. As a matter of fact, he had seenfewer than twenty Americans in all that time. He was a vigorous, healthyyoung man, and it may well be presumed that the situation bored him.Small wonder, then, that he kept out of mischief for half a year.Diplomatic service is one thing and the lack of opportunity is quiteanother. Chase did his best to find occupation for his diplomacy, butwhat chance had he with nothing ahead of him but regular reports to thedepartment in which he could only announce that he was in good healthand that no one had "called."

Chase belonged to the diplomatic class which owes its elevation to theinfluence of Congress—not to Congress as a body but to one of itsatoms. He was not a politician; no more was he an office seeker. He wasa real soldier of fortune, in search of affairs—in peace or in war, onland or at sea. Possessed of a small income, sufficiently adequate tosustain life if he managed to advance it to the purple age (but whollyincapable of supporting him as a thriftless diplomat), he was compelledto make the best of his talents, no matter to what test they were put.He left college at twenty-two, possessed of the praiseworthy design toearn his own way without recourse to the $4,500 income from a certaintrust fund. His plan also incorporated the hope to save every penny ofthat income for the possible "rainy day." He was now thirty; in each ofseveral New York banks he had something like $4,000 drawing three percent. interest while he picked his blithe way through the world on$2,500 a year, more or less, as chance ordained.

"When I'm forty," Chase was wont to remark to envious spendthrifts whocouldn't understand his philosophy, "I'll have over a hundred thousandthere, and if I live to be ninety, just think what I'll have! And itwill be like finding the money, don't you see? Of course, I won't liveto be ninety. Moreover, I may get married and have to maintain a poorwife with rich relatives, which is a terrible strain, you know. You haveto live up to your wife's relatives, if you don't do anything else."

He did not refer to the chance that he was quite sure to come in for alarge legacy at the death of his maternal grandfather, a millionaireranch owner in the Far West. Chase never counted on probabilities; hetook what came and was satisfied.

After leaving college, he drifted pretty much over the world, taking potluck with fortune and clasping the hand of circ*mstance, to be led intothe highways and byways, through good times and ill times, in love andout, always coming safely into port with a smiling wind behind. Therehad been hard roads to travel as well as easy ones, but he nevercomplained; he swung on through life with the heart of a soldier and theconfidence of a Pagan. He loathed business and he abhorred trade.

"That little old trust fund is making more money for me by lying idlethan I could accumulate in a century by hard work as a grocer or anundertaker," he was prone to philosophise when his uncles, who weremerchants, urged him to settle down and "do something." Not that therewere grocers or undertakers among them; it was his way of impressing hissense of freedom upon them.

He was an orphan and bounden to no man. No one had the right to questionhis actions after his twenty-first anniversary. It was fortunate for himthat he was a level-headed as well as a wild-hearted chap, else he mighthave sunk to the perdition his worthy uncles prescribed for him. He wentin for law at Yale, and then practised restlessly, vaguely for two yearsin Baltimore, under the patronage of his father's oldest friend, alawyer of distinction.

"If I fail at everything else, I'll go back to the practice of law," hesaid cheerfully. "Uncle Henry is mean enough to say that he hasforgotten more law than I ever knew, but he has none the better of me.'Gad, I am confident that I've forgotten more law, myself, than I everknew."

Tiring of the law books and reports in the old judge's office, hesuddenly abandoned his calling and set forth to see the world. Almostbefore his friends knew that he had left he was heard of in Turkestan.In course of time he served as a war correspondent for one of the greatnewspapers, acted as agent for great hemp dealers in the Philippines,carried a rifle with the Boers in South Africa, hunted wild beasts inAsia and in Hottentot land, took snapshots in St. Petersburg, and almostgot to the North Pole with one of the expeditions. To do and be all ofthese he had to be a manly man. Not in a month's journey would you meeta truer thoroughbred, a more agreeable chap, a more polished vagabond,than Hollingsworth Chase, first lieutenant in Dame Fortune's army. Tall,good looking, rawboned, cheerful, gallant, he was the true comrade ofthose merry, reckless volunteers from all lands who find commissions inFortune's army and serve her faithfully. He had shared pot luck in oddparts of the world with English lords, German barons and Frenchcounts—all serving under the common flag. His heart had withstood theimportunate batterings of many a love siege; the wounds had beenpleasant ones and the recovery quick. He left no dead behind him.

He was nearly thirty when the diplomatic service began to appeal to himas a pleasing variation from the rigorous occupations he had followedheretofore. A British lordling put it into his head, away out in Delhi.It took root, and he hurried home to attend to its growth. One of hisuncles was a congressman and another was in some way connected withrailroads. He first sought the influence of the latter and then therecommendation of the former. In less than six weeks after his arrivalin Washington he was off for the city of Thorberg in the Grand Duchy ofRapp-Thorberg, carrying with him an appointment as consul and suppliedwith the proper stamps and seal of office. His uncle compassionatelyinformed him beforehand that his service in Thorberg would be brief andcertainly would lead up to something much better.

At the end of five months he was devoutly, even pathetically, hopingthat his uncle was no false prophet. He loathed Thorberg; he hated theinhabitants; he smarted under the sting of royal disdain; he had no realfriends, no boon companions and he was obliged to be good! What wonder,then, that the bored, suffering, vivacious Mr. Chase seized the firstopportunity to leap headforemost into the very thick of a most appallingindiscretion!

When he first arrived in Thorberg to assume his sluggish duties he wasnot aware of the fact that the Grand Duke had an unmarried daughter, thePrincess Genevra. Nor, upon learning that the young lady existed, was heparticularly impressed; the royal princesses he had been privileged tolook upon were not remarkable for their personal attractiveness: heforthwith established Genevra in what he considered to be her propersphere.

She was visiting in St. Petersburg or Berlin or some other place—hegave it no thought at the time—when he reached his post of duty, and itwas toward the end of his fifth month before she returned to herfather's palace in Thorberg. He awoke to the importance of the occasion,and took some slight interest in the return of the royal younglady—even going so far as to follow the crowd to the railway station onthe sunny June afternoon. His companions were two young fellows from theEnglish bank and a rather agreeable attaché of the French Government.

He saw the Princess for the first time that afternoon, and he was bowledover, to use the expression of his English friends with whom he dinedthat night. She was the first woman that he had ever looked upon that hecould describe, for she was the only one who had impressed him to thatextent. This is how he pictured her at the American legation in Paris afew weeks later:

"Ever see her? Well, you've something to live for, gentlemen. I've seenher but three times and I don't seem able to shake off the spell. Hersisters, you know—the married ones—are nothing to look at, and theGrand Duke isn't a beauty by any means. How the deuce she happens toproduce such a contrast I can't, for the life of me, understand. Naturedoes some marvellous things, by George, and she certainly spread herselfon the Princess Genevra. You've never seen such hair. 'Gad, it's as nearlike the kind that Henner painted as anything human could be, exceptthat it's more like old gold, if you can understand what I mean by that.Not bronze, mind you, nor the raw red, but—oh, well, I'm not anovelist, so I can't half-way describe it. She's rather tall—not tootall, mind you—five feet five, I'd say—whatever that is in the metricsystem. Slender and well dressed—oh, that's the strangest thing of all!Well dressed! Think of a princess being well dressed! I can see that youdon't believe me, but I'll stake my word it's true. Of course, I've seenbut three of her gowns and—but that's neither here nor there. I'd sayshe's twenty-two or twenty-three years of age—not a minute older. Ithink her eyes are a very dark grey, almost blue. Her skin is likea—a—oh, let me see, what is there that's as pure and soft as her skin?Something warm, and pink, and white, d'ye see? Well, never mind. And hersmile! And her frown! You know, I've seen both of 'em, and one's asattractive as the other. She's a real princess, gentlemen, and theprettiest woman I've ever laid my eyes upon. And to think of her as thewife of that blithering little ass—that nincompoop of a Karl Brabetz!She loathes him, I'm sure—I know she does. And she's got to marryhim! That's what she gets for being a Grand Duke's daughter. Brabetz isthe heir apparent to some duchy or other over there and is supposed tobe the catch of the season. You've heard of him. He was in Paris thisseason and cut quite a figure—a prince with real money in his purse,you know. I wonder why it is that our American girls can't marry theprinces who have money instead of those who have none. Not that I wishany of our girls such bad luck as Brabetz! I'll stake my head he'llnever forget me!" Chase concluded with a sharp, reflective laugh inwhich his hearers joined, for the escapade which inspired it was beingslyly discussed in every embassy in Europe by this time, but no oneseemed especially loth to shake Chase's hand on account of it.

But to return: the advent of the Princess put fresh life into theslowgoing city and court circles. Charming people, whom Chase had neverseen before, seemed to spring into existence suddenly; the streets tookon a new air; the bands played with a keener zest and the army prinkeditself into a most amazingly presentable shape. Officers with nobleblood in their veins stepped out of the obscurity of months; swordsclanked merrily instead of dragging slovenly at the heels of theirowners; uniforms glistened with a new ambition, and the whole atmosphereof Thorberg underwent a change so startling that Chase could hardlybelieve his senses. He lifted up his chin, threw out his chest, banishedthe look of discontent from his face and announced to himself thatThorberg was not such a bad place after all.

For days he swung blithely through the streets, the hang-dog look gonefrom his eyes, always hoping for another glimpse of the fair sorceresswho had worked the great transformation. He even went so far as to readthe court society news in the local papers, and grew to envy the menwhose names were mentioned in the same column with that of the fairGenevra. It was two weeks before he saw her the second time; he was moreenchanted by her face than before, especially as he came to realise theastonishing fact that she was kind enough to glance in his directionfrom time to time.

It was during the weekly concert in the Kursaal, late one night. Shecame in with a party, among whom he recognised several of the leadingpersonages at court.

Once a week the regular concert gave way to a function in which theroyal orchestra was featured. On such occasions the attendance wasextremely fashionable, the Duke and his court usually being present. Itwas not until this time, however, that Chase felt that he could sitthrough a concert without being bored to extinction. He loved music, butnot the kind that the royal orchestra rendered; Wagner, Chopin, Mozartwere all the same to him—he hated them fervently and he was not yetgiven to stratagems and spoils. He sat at a table with the Frenchattaché just below the box occupied by the Princess and her party. Inspite of the fact that he was a gentleman, born and bred, he could notconquer countless impulses to look at the flower-face of the royalauditor. They were surreptitious and sidelong peeps, it is true, butthey served him well. He caught her gaze bent upon him more than once,and he detected an interest in her look that pleased his vanityexceeding great.

Gradually the programme led up to the feature of the evening—therendition of a great work under the direction of a famous leader, aspecial guest of the music-loving Duke.

Chase arose and cheered with the assemblage when the distinguisheddirector made his appearance. Then he proceeded to forget the man andhis genius—in fact everything save the rapt listener above him. She wasleaning forward on the rail of the box, her chin in her hand, her eyeslooking steadily ahead, enthralled by the music. Suddenly she turned andlooked squarely into his eyes, as if impelled by the magnetism theyunconsciously employed. A little flush mounted to her brow as shequickly resumed her former attitude. Chase cursed himself for abrainless lout.

The number came to an end and the crowd arose to cheer the bowing,smiling director. Chase cheered and shouted "bravo," too, because shewas applauding as eagerly as the others. She called the flushed, bowingdirector to her box, and publicly thanked him for the pleasure he hadgiven. Chase saw him kiss her hand as he murmured his gratitude. For thefirst time in his life he coveted the occupation of an orchestra leader.

The director was a frail, rather good-looking young man, with piercingblack eyes that seemed too bold in their scrutiny of the young lady'sface. Chase began to hate him; he was unreasonably thankful when hepassed on to the box in which the Duke sat.

The third and last time he saw the Princess Genevra before his sudden,spectacular departure from the Grand Duchy, was at the Duke's receptionto the nobility of Rapp-Thorberg and to the representatives of suchnations of the world as felt the necessity of having a man there in anofficial capacity.

CHAPTER IV

THE INDISCREET MR. CHASE

There was not a handsomer, more striking figure in the palace gardens onthe night of the reception than Hollingsworth Chase, nor one whose poiseproved that he knew the world quite as well as it is possible for anyone man to know it. His was an unique figure, also, for he was easilydistinguishable as the only American in the brilliant assemblage.

He was presented to the Princess late in the evening, together withBaggs of the British office. His pride and confidence received a severeshock. She glanced at him with unaffected welcome, but the air of onewho was looking upon his face for the first time. It was not until hehad spent a full hour in doleful self-commiseration, that his sense ofworldliness came to his relief. In a flash, he was joyously convincinghimself that her pose during the presentation was artfully—and veryproperly—assumed. He saw through it very plainly! How simple he hadbeen! Of course, she could not permit him to feel that she had everdisplayed the slightest interest in him! His spirits shot upward sosuddenly that Baggs accused him of "negotiating a drink on the sly" andfelt very much injured that he had been ignored.

The gardens of the palace were not unlike the stage setting of a greatspectacle. The sleepy, stolid character of the court had beentransformed, as if by magic. Chase wondered where all the pretty,vivacious women could have sprung from—and were these the officers ofthe Royal Guard that he had so often laughed at in disdain? Could thatgay old gentleman in red and gold be the morbid, carelessly clad Duke ofRapp-Thorberg, whom he had grown to despise because he seemed soridiculously unlike a real potentate? He marvelled and rejoiced as hestrolled hither and thither with the casual Baggs, and for the firsttime in his life really felt that it was pleasant to be stared at—inadmiration, too, he may be pardoned for supposing.

He could not again approach within speaking distance of thePrincess—nor did he presume to make the effort. Chase knew his properplace. It must be admitted, however, that he was never far distant fromher, but perhaps chance was responsible for that—chance and Baggs, who,by nature, kept as close to royalty as the restrictions allowed.

She was the gayest, the most vivacious being in the whole assemblage;she had but to stretch out her hand or project her smile and every manin touch with the spell was ready to drop at her feet. At last, she ledher court off toward the pavilion under which the royal orchestra wasplaying. As if it were a signal, every one turned his steps in thatdirection. Chase and the Englishman had been conversing diligently withan ancient countess and her two attractive daughters near the fountain.The Countess gave the command in the middle of Chase's dissertation onItalian cooking, and the party hastily fell in line with the throngwhich hurried forward.

"What is it? Supper again?" whispered Baggs, lugubriously.

One of the young women, doubtless observing the look of curiosity in theface of the American, volunteered the information that the orchestra wasto repeat the great number which had so stirred the musical world at theconcert the week before. Chase's look of despair was instantly banishedby the recollection that the Princess had bestowed unqualified approvalon the previous occasion. Hence, if she enjoyed it, he was determined tobe pleased.

Again the dapper director came forward to lead the musicians, and againhe was most enthusiastically received. His uniform fairly sparkled withthe thrill of vanity, which seemed to burst from every seam; his swordclanked madly against his nimble legs as he bowed and scraped hisgrateful recognition of the honour. This time Chase was not where hecould watch the Princess; he found, therefore, that he could devote hisattention to the music and the popular conductor. He was amazed to findthat the fellow seemed to be inspired; he was also surprised to findhimself carried away by the fervour of the moment.

With the final crash of the orchestra, he found himself shouting againwith the others; oddly, this time he was as mad as they. A score or moreof surprised, disapproving eyes were turned upon him when he yelled"Encore!"

"There will be no encore," admonished the fair girl at his side, kindly."It is not New York," she added, with a sly smile.

Ten minutes later, Chase and the Englishman were lighting their cigarsin an obscure corner of the gardens, off in the shadows where the circleof light spent itself among the trees.

"Extraordinarily beautiful," Chase murmured reflectively, as he seatedhimself upon the stone railing along the drive.

"Yes, they say he really wrote it himself," drawled Baggs, puffing away.

"I'm not talking about the music," corrected Chase sharply.

"Oh," murmured Baggs, apologetically. "The night?"

"No! The Princess, Baggs. Haven't you noticed her?" with intense sarcasmin his tone.

"Of course, I have, old chap. By Jove, do you know she isgood-looking—positively ripping."

The concert over, people began strolling into the more distant cornersof the huge garden, down the green-walled walks and across the moonlitterraces. For a long time, the two men sat moodily smoking in their darknook, watching the occasional passers-by; listening to the subduedlaughter and soft voices of the women, the guttural pleasantries of themen. They lazily observed the approach of one couple, attracted, nodoubt, by the disparity in the height of the two shadows. The man was atleast half a head shorter than his companion, but his ardour seemed athousandfold more vast. Chase was amused by the apparent intensity ofthe small officer's devotion, especially as it was met with a coldnessthat would have chilled the fervour of a man much larger and thereforemore timid. It was impossible to see the faces of the couple until theypassed through a moonlit streak in the walk, quite close at hand.

Chase started and grasped his companion's arm. One was the PrincessGenevra and—was it possible? Yes, the nimble conductor! The sensationof the hour—the musical lion! Moreover, to Chase's cold horror, the"little freak" was actually making violent love to the divinity ofRapp-Thorberg!

There was no doubt of it now. The Princess and her escort—the plebeianupstart—were quite near at hand, and, to the dismay of the smokers,apparently were unaware of their presence in the shadows. Chase's heartwas boiling with disappointed rage. His idol had fallen, from atremendous height to a depth which disgusted him.

Then transpired the thing which brought about Hollingsworth Chase'ssudden banishment from Rapp-Thorberg, and came near to making him thelaughing stock of the service.

The Princess had not seen the two men; nor had the fervent conductor,whose impassioned French was easily distinguishable by the unwillinglisteners. The sharp, indignant "no" of the Princess, oft repeated, didmuch to relieve the pain in the heart of her American admirer. Finally,with an unmistakable cry of anger, she halted not ten feet from whereChase sat, as though he had become a part of the stone rail. He couldalmost feel the blaze in her eyes as she turned upon the presumptuousconductor.

"I have asked you not to touch me, sir! Is not that enough? If youpersist, I shall be compelled to appeal to my father again. The wholesituation is loathsome to me. Are you blind? Can you not see that Idespise you? I will not endure it a day longer. You promised to respectmy wishes—"

"How can I respect a promise which condemns me to purgatory every time Isee you?" he cried passionately. "I adore you. You are the queen of mylife, the holder of my soul. Genevra, Genevra, I love you! My soul forone tender word, for one soft caress! Ah, do not be so cruel! I will beyour slave—"

"Enough! Stop, I say! If you dare to touch me!" she cried, drawing awayfrom her tormentor, her voice trembling with anger. The littleconductor's manner changed on the instant. He gave a snarl of rage anddespair combined as he raised his clenched hands in the air. For amoment words seemed to fail him. Then he cried out:

"By heaven, I'll make you pay for this some day! You shall learn what aman can do with a woman such as you are! You—"

Just at that moment a tall figure leaped from the shadows and confrontedthe quivering musician. A heavy hand fell upon his collar and he wasalmost jerked from his feet, half choked, half paralysed with alarm. Nota word was spoken. Chase whirled the presumptuous suitor about until hefaced the gates to the garden. Then, with more force than he realised,he applied his boot to the person of the offender—once, twice, thrice!The military jacket of the recipient of these attentions was of theabbreviated European pattern and the trousers were skin tight.

The Princess started back with a cry of alarm—ay, terror. The onslaughtwas so sudden, so powerless to avert, that it seemed like a visitationof wrath from above. She stared, wide-eyed and unbelieving, upon thebrief tragedy; she saw her tormentor hurled viciously toward the gatesand then, with new alarm, saw him pick himself up from the ground,writhing with pain and anger. His sword flashed from its scabbard as,with a scream of rage, he dashed upon the tall intruder. She sawChase—even in the shadows she knew him to be the American—she sawChase lightly leap aside, avoiding the thrust for his heart. Then, as ifhe were playing with a child, he wrested the weapon from the conductor'shand, snapped the blade in two pieces and threw them off into thebushes.

"Skip!" was his only word. It was a command that no one in Rapp-Thorbergever had heard before.

"You shall pay for this!" screamed the conductor, tugging at his collar."Scoundrel! Dog! Beast! What do you mean! Murderer! Robber! Assassin!"

"You know what I mean, you little shrimp!" roared Chase. "Skip! Don'thang around here a second longer or I'll—" and he took a threateningstep toward his adversary. The latter was discreet, if not actually acoward. He turned tail and ran twenty paces or more in heartbreakingtime; then, realising that he was not pursued, stopped and shook hisfist at his assailant.

"Come, Genevra," he gasped, but she remained as if rooted to the spot.He waited an instant, and then walked rapidly away in the direction ofthe palace, his back as straight as a ramrod, but his legs a trifleunsteady. The trio watched him for a full minute, speech-bound now thatthe deed was done and the consequences were to be considered. Baggsgrasped Chase by the shoulder, shook him and exclaimed, when it was toolate:

"You blooming ass, do you know what you've done?"

"The da—miserable cur was annoying the Princess," muttered Chase,straightening his cuffs, vaguely realising that he had interfered toohastily.

"Confound it, man, he's the chap she's going to marry."

"Marry?" gasped Chase.

"The hereditary prince of Brabetz—Karl Brabetz."

"Good Lord!"

"You must have known."

"How the dev—Of course I didn't know," groaned Chase. "But hang it all,man, he was annoying her. She was flouting him for it. She said shedespised him. I don't understand----"

The Princess came forward into the light of the path. There was a quaintlittle wrinkle of mirth about her lips, which trembled nevertheless, buther eyes were full of solicitude.

"I'm sorry, sir," she began nervously. "You have made a serious mistake.But," she added frankly, holding out her hand to him, "you meant todefend me. I thank you."

Chase bowed low over her hand, too bewildered to speak. Baggs waspulling at his mustache and looking nervously in the direction which thePrince had taken.

"He'll be back here with the guard," he muttered.

"He will go to my father," said Genevra, her voice trembling. "He willbe very angry. I am sorry, indeed, that you should have witnessedour—our scene. Of course, you could not have known who he was----"

"I thought he was a—but in any event, your highness, he was annoyingyou," supplemented Chase eagerly.

"You will forgive me if I've caused you even greater, graverannoyance. What can I do to set the matter right? I can explain my errorto the Duke. He'll understand—"

"Alas, he will not understand. He does not even understand me," she saidmeaningly. "Oh, I'm so sorry. It may—it will mean trouble for you."There was a catch in her voice.

"I'll fight him," murmured Chase, wiping his brow.

"Deuce take it, man, he won't fight you," said Baggs. "He's a prince,you know. He can't, you know. It's a beastly mess."

"Perhaps—perhaps you'd better go at once," said the Princess, ratherpathetically. "My father will not overlook the indignity to—to my—tohis future son-in-law. I am afraid he may take extreme measures. Believeme, I understand why you did it and I—again I thank you. I am not angrywith you, yet you will understand that I cannot condone your kindfault."

"Forgive me," muttered the hapless Chase.

"It would not be proper in me to say that I could bless you for what youhave done," she said, so naïvely that he lifted his eyes to hers and lethis heart escape heavenward.

"The whole world will call me a bungling, stupid ass for not knowing whohe was," said Chase, with a wretched smile.

Her face brightened after a moment, and an entrancing smile broke aroundher lips.

"If I were you, I'd never confess that I did not know who he was," shesaid. "Let the world think that you did know. It will not laugh, then.If you can trust your friend to keep the secret, I am sure you can trustme to do the same."

Again Chase was speechless—this time with joy. She would shield himfrom ridicule!

"And now, please go! It were better if you went at once. I am afraid theaffair will not end with to-night. It grieves me to feel that I may bethe unhappy cause of misfortune to you."

"No misfortune can appal me now," murmured he gallantly. Then came therevolting realisation that she was to wed the little musician. Thethought burst from his lips before he could prevent: "I don't believeyou want to marry him. He is the Duke's choice. You—"

"And I am the Duke's daughter," she said steadily, a touch of hauteur inher voice. "Good-night. Good-bye. I am not sorry that it has happened."

She turned and left them, walking swiftly among the trees. A momentlater her voice came from the shadows, quick and pleading.

"Hasten," she called softly. "They are coming. I can see them."

Baggs grasped Chase by the arm and hurried him through the gate, pastthe unsuspecting sentry. They did not know that the Princess, uponmeeting the soldiers, told them that the two men had gone toward thepalace instead of out into the city streets. It gave them half an hour'sstart.

"It's a devil of a mess," sighed Baggs, when they were far from thewalls. "The Duke may have you jugged, and it would serve you jolly wellright."

"Now, see here, Baggs, none of that," growled Chase. "You'd have donethe same thing if you hadn't been brought up to fall on your face beforeroyalty. It will cost me my job here, but I'm glad I did it.Understand?"

"I'm sure it will cost you the job if nothing else. You'll be relievedbefore to-morrow night, my word for it. And you'll be lucky if that'sall. The Duke's a terror. I don't, for the life of me, see how youfailed to know who the chap really is."

"An Englishman never sees a joke until it is too late, they say. Thistime it appears to be the American who is slow witted. What I don'tunderstand is why he was leading that confounded band."

"My word, Chase, everybody in Europe—except you—knows that Brabetz isa crank about music. Composes, directs and all that. Over in Brabetz hesupports the conservatory of music, written dozens of things for theorchestra, plays the pipe organ in the cathedral—all that sort of rot,you know. He's a confounded little bounder, just the same. He's madabout music and women and don't care a hang about wine. The worst kind,don't you know. I say, it's a rotten shame she has to marry him. Butthat's the way of it with royalty, old chap. You Americans don'tunderstand it. They have to marry one another whether they like it ornot. But, I say, you'd better come over and stop with me to-night. Itwill be better if they don't find you just yet."

Three days later, a man came down to relieve Chase of his office; he wasunceremoniously supplanted in the Duchy of Rapp-Thorberg.

It was the successful pleading of the Princess Genevra that kept himfrom serving a period in durance vile.

CHAPTER V

THE ENGLISH INVADE

The granddaughter of Jack Wyckholme, attended by two maids, her husbandand his valet, a clerk from the chambers of Bosworth, Newnes & Grapewin,a red co*cker, seventeen trunks and a cartload of late novels, which shehad been too busy to read at home, was the first of the bewilderedlegatees to set foot upon the island of Japat. A rather sultry, boresomevoyage across the Arabian Sea in a most unhappy steamer which called atJapat on its way to Sidney, depressed her spirits to some extent but notirretrievably.

She was very pretty, very smart and delightfully arrogant after a mannerof her own. To begin with, Lady Agnes could see no sensible reason whyshe should be compelled to abandon a very promising autumn and winter athome, to say nothing of the following season, for the sake of protectingwhat was rightfully her own against the impudent claims of an unheard-ofAmerican.

She complacently informed her solicitors that it was all rubbish; theycould arrange, if they would, without forcing her to take thisabominable step. Upon reflection, however, and after Mr. Bosworth hadpointed out the risk to her, she was ready enough to take the step,although still insisting that it was abominable.

Mr. Saunders was the polite but excessively middle-class clerk who wentout to keep the legal strings untangled for them. He was soon todiscover that his duties were even more comprehensive.

It was he who saw to it that the luggage was transferred to the lighterwhich came out to the steamer when she dropped anchor off the town ofAratat; it was he who counted the pieces and haggled with the boatmen;it was he who carried off the hand luggage when the native dock boysrefused to engage in the work; it was he who unfortunately dropped asuitcase upon the hallowed tail of the red co*cker, an accident whichever afterward gave him a tenacity of grip that no man could understand;it was he who made all of the inquiries, did all of the necessaryswearing, and came last in the procession which wended its indignant wayup the long slope to the château on the mountain side.

If Lady Deppingham expected a royal welcome from the inhabitants ofJapat, she was soon to discover her error. Not only was the picturedscene of welcome missing on the afternoon of her arrival, but anoverpowering air of antipathy smote her in the face as she stepped fromthe lighter—conquest in her smile of conciliation. The attitude of thebrown-faced Mohammedans who looked coldly upon the fair visitor was farfrom amiable. They did not fall down and bob their heads; they did noteven incline them in response to her overtures. What was more trying,they glared at the newcomers in a most expressive manner. LadyDeppingham's chin was interrupted in its tilt of defiance by the shudderof alarm which raced through her slender figure. She glanced from rightto left down the lines of swarthy islanders, and saw nothing in theirfaces but surly, bitter unfriendliness. They stood stolidly, stonily ata distance, white-robed lines of resentment personified.

Not a hand was lifted in assistance to the bewildered visitors; not aword, not a smile of encouragement escaped the lips of the silentthrong.

Lady Agnes looked about eagerly in search of a white man's face, butthere was none to be seen except in her own party. A moment of paniccame to her as she stood there on the pier, almost alone, while Saundersand her husband were engaged in the effort to secure help with theboxes. Behind her lay the friendly ocean; ahead the gorgeous landscape,smiling down upon her with the green glow of poison in its sunny face,dark treachery in its heart. On the instant she realised that thesepeople were her enemies, and that they were the real masters of theisland, after all. She found herself wondering whether they meant tosettle the question of ownership then and there, before she could somuch as set her foot upon the coveted soil at the end of the pier. Ahundred knives might hack her to pieces, but even as she shuddered arush of true British doggedness warmed her blood; after all, she wasthere to fight for her rights and she would stand her ground. Almostbefore she realised, the dominant air of superiority which characterisesher nation, no matter whither its subjects may roam, crept out above herbrief touch of timidity, and she found that she could stare defiantlyinto the swarthy ranks.

"Is there no British agent here?" she demanded imperatively, perhaps alittle more shrilly than usual.

No one deigned to answer; glances of indifference, even scorn, passedamong the silent lookers-on, but that was all. It was more than herpride could endure. Her smooth cheeks turned a deeper pink and her blueeyes flashed.

"Does no one here understand the English language?" she demanded. "Idon't mean you, Mr. Saunders," she added sharply, as the little clerkset the suitcase down abruptly and stepped forward, again fumbling hismuch-fumbled straw hat. This was the moment when the red co*cker's tailcame to grief. The dog arose with an astonished yelp and fled to hismistress; he had never been so outrageously set upon before in all hispampered life. Seizing the opportunity to vent her feelings upon one whocould understand, even as she poured soothings upon the insulted Pong,whom she clasped in her arms, Lady Agnes transformed the unluckySaunders into a target for a most ably directed volley of wrath. Theshadow of a smile swept down the threatening row of dark faces.

Lord Deppingham, a slow and cumbersome young man, stood by nervouslyfingering his eyeglass. For the first time he felt that the clerk wasbetter than a confounded dog, after all. He surprised every one, hiswife most of all, by coolly interfering, not particularly in defence ofthe clerk but in behalf of the Deppingham dignity.

"My dear," he said, waving Saunders into the background, "I think it wasan accident. The dog had no business going to sleep—" he paused andinserted his monocle for the purpose of looking up the precise spotwhere the accident had occurred.

"He wasn't asleep," cried his wife.

"Then, my dear, he has positively no excuse to offer for getting histail in the way of the bag. If he was awake and didn't have senseenough—"

"Oh, rubbish!" exclaimed her ladyship. "I suppose you expect the poordarling to apologise."

"All this has nothing to do with the case. We're more interested inlearning where we are and where we are to go. Permit me to have a lookabout."

His wife stared after him in amazement as he walked over to the canvasawning in front of the low dock building, actually elbowing his waythrough a group of natives. Presently he came back, twisting his leftmustache.

"The fellow in there says that the English agent is employed in thebank. It's straight up this street—by Jove, he called it a street,don't you know," he exclaimed, disdainfully eyeing the narrow, dustypassage ahead. Here and there a rude house or shop stood directly aheadin the middle of the thoroughfare, with happy disregard for effect orconvenience.

"There's the British flag, my lord, just ahead. See the building to theright, sir?" said Mr. Saunders, more respectfully than ever and withreal gratitude in his heart.

"So it is! That's where he is. I wonder why he isn't down here to meetus."

"Very likely he didn't know we were coming," said his wife icily.

"Well, we'll look him up. Come along, everybody—Oh, I say, we can'tleave this luggage unguarded. They say these fellows are the worstrobbers east of London."

It was finally decided, after a rather subdued discussion, that Mr.Saunders should proceed to the bank and rout out the dilatoryrepresentative of the British Government. Saunders looked down thesullen line of faces, and blanched to his toes. He hemmed and hawed andsaid something about his mother, which was wholly lost upon the barrenwaste that temporarily stood for a heart in Lord Deppingham's torso.

"Tell him we'll wait here for him," pursued his lordship. "But remindhim, damn him, that it's inexpressibly hot down here in the sun."

They stood and watched the miserable Saunders tread gingerly up thefilthy street, his knees crooking outwardly from time to time, his toesalways touching the ground first, very much as if he were contemplatingan instantaneous sprint in any direction but the one he was taking. Eventhe placid Deppingham was somewhat disturbed by the significant glancesthat followed their emissary as he passed by each separate knot ofnatives. He was distinctly dismayed when a dozen or more of thedark-faced watchers wandered slowly off after Mr. Saunders. It wasclearly observed that Mr. Saunders stepped more nimbly after he becameaware of this fact.

"I do hope Mr. Saunders will come back alive," murmured Bromley, herladyship's maid. The others started, for she had voiced the generalthought.

"He won't come back at all, Bromley, unless he comes back alive," saidhis lordship with a smile. It was a well-known fact that he never smiledexcept when his mind was troubled.

"Goodness, Deppy," said his wife, recognising the symptom, "do youreally think there is danger?"

"My dear Aggy, who said there was any danger?" he exclaimed, and quicklylooked out to sea. "I rather think we'll enjoy it here," he added aftera moment's pause, in which he saw that the steamer was getting underway. The Japat company's tug was returning to the pier. Lord Deppinghamsighed and then drew forth his cigarette case. "There!" he went on,peering intently up the street. "Saunders is gone."

"Gone?" half shrieked her ladyship.

"Into the bank," he added, scratching a match.

"Deppy," she said after a moment, "I hope I was not too hard on the poorfellow."

"Perhaps you won't be so nervous if you sit down and look at the sea,"he said gently, and she immediately knew that he suggested it because heexpected a tragedy in the opposite direction. She dropped Pong withoutanother word, and, her face quite serious, seated herself upon the bigtrunk which he selected. He sat down beside her, and together theywatched the long line of smoke far out at sea.

They expected every minute to hear the shouts of assassins and thescreams of the brave Mr. Saunders. Their apprehensions were sensiblyincreased by the mysterious actions of the half-naked loiterers. Theyseemed to consult among themselves for some time after the departure ofthe clerk, and then, to the horror of the servants, made off in variousdirections, more than one of them handling his ugly kris in an ominousmanner. Bromley was not slow to acquaint his lordship with thesemovements. Deppingham felt a cold chill shoot up his spine, and hecleared his throat as if to shout after the disappearing steamer. But hemaintained a brave front, or, more correctly, a brave back, for herefused to encourage the maid's fears by turning around.

It was broiling hot in the sun, but no one thought of the whiteumbrellas. Saunders was the epitome of every thought.

"Here he comes!" shouted the valet, joyously forgetting his station. Hislordship still stared at the sea. Lady Deppingham's little jaws wereshut tight and her fingers were clenched desperately in the effort tomaintain the proper dignity before her servants.

"Your lordship," said Mr. Saunders, three minutes later, "this is Mr.Bowles, his Majesty's agent here. He is come with me to—"

It was then and not until then that his lordship turned his stare fromthe sea to the clerk and his companion.

"Aw," he interrupted, "glad to see you, I'm sure. Would you be goodenough to tell us how we are to reach the—er—château, and why thedevil we can't get anybody to move our luggage?"

Mr. Bowles, who had lived in Japat for sixteen years, was a tortuouslyslow Englishman with the curse of the clime still growing upon him. Hewas half asleep quite a good bit of the time, and wholly asleep duringthe remainder. A middle-aged man was he, yet he looked sixty. Heafterward told Saunders that it seemed to take two days to make one inthe beastly climate; that was why he was misled into putting offeverything until the second day. The department had sent him out longago at the request of Mr. Wyckholme; he had lost the energy to give upthe post.

"Mr.—er—Mr. Saunders, my lord, has told me that you have been unableto secure assistance in removing your belongings—" he began politely,but Deppingham interrupted him.

"Where is the château? Are there no vans to be had?"

"Everything is transferred by hand, my lord, and the château is twomiles farther up the side of the mountain. It's quite a walk, sir."

"Do you mean to say we are to walk?"

"Yes, my lord, if you expect to go there."

"Of course, we expect to go there. Are there no horses on the beastlyisland?"

"Hundreds, my lord, but they belong to the people and no one but theirowners ride them. One can't take them by the hour, you know. Theservants at the château turned Mr. Skaggs's horses out to pasture beforethey left."

"Before who left?"

"The servants, my lord."

Lady Deppingham's eyes grew wide with understanding.

"You don't mean to say that the servants have left the place?" shecried.

"Yes, my lady. They were natives, you know."

"What's that got to do with it?" demanded Deppingham.

"I'm afraid you don't understand the situation," said Mr. Bowlespatiently. "You see, it's really a triangular controversy, if I may beso bold as to say so. Lady Deppingham is one of the angles; Mr. Browne,the American gentleman, is another; the native population is the last.Each wants to be the hypothenuse. While the interests of all three aremerged in the real issue, there is, nevertheless, a decided dispositionall around to make it an entirely one-sided affair."

"I don't believe I grasp—" muttered Deppingham blankly.

"I see perfectly," exclaimed his wife. "The natives are allied againstus, just as we are, in a way, against them and Mr. Browne. Really, itseems quite natural, doesn't it, dear?" turning to her husband.

"Very likely, but very unfortunate. It leaves us to broil our brains outdown here on this pier. I say, Mr.—er—old chap, can't you possiblyengage some sort of transportation for us? Really, you know, we can'tstand here all day."

"I've no doubt I can arrange it, my lord. If you will just wait hereuntil I run back to the bank, I daresay I'll find a way. Perhaps you'dprefer standing under the awning until I return."

The new arrivals glowered after him as he started off toward the bank.Then they moved over to the shelter of the awning.

"Did he say he was going to run?" groaned his lordship. The progress ofBowles rivalled that of the historic tortoise.

It was fully half an hour before he was seen coming down the street,followed by a score or more of natives, their dirty white robes flappingabout their brown legs. At first they could not believe it was Bowles.Lord Deppingham had a sharp thrill of joy, but it was shortlived. Bowleshad changed at least a portion of his garb; he now wore the tight redjacket of the British trooper, while an ancient army cap was strappedjauntily over his ear.

"It's all right, my lord," he said, saluting as he came Up. "They willdo anything I tell 'em to do when I represent the British army. This isthe only uniform on the island, but they've been taught that there aremore where this one came from. These fellows will carry your boxes up tothe château, sixpence to the man, if you please, sir; and I've sent fortwo carts to draw your party up the slope. They'll be here in a jiffy,my lady. You'll find the drive a beautiful if not a comfortable one."Then turning majestically to the huddled natives, he waved his slenderstick over the boxes, big and little, and said: "Lively, now! Noloafing! Lively!"

Whereupon the entire collection of boxes, bags and bundles figurativelypicked itself up and walked off in the direction of the château. Bowlestriumphantly saluted Lord and Lady Deppingham. The former had a longinglook in his eye as he stared at Bowles and remarked:

"I wish I had a troop of real Tommy Atkinses out here, by Jove."

CHAPTER VI

THE CHÂTEAU

The road to the château took its devious way through the littletown—out into the green foothill beyond. Two lumbering, wooden wheeledcarts, none too clean, each drawn by four perspiring men, served asconveyances by which the arrivals were to make the journey to their newhome. Mr. Bowles informed his lordship that horses were not submitted tothe indignity of drawing carts. The lamented Mr. Skaggs had driven hisown Arab steeds to certain fashionable traps, but the natives neverthought of doing such a thing.

Lady Deppingham's pert little nose lifted itself in disgust as she wasjoggled through the town behind the grunting substitutes for horseflesh.She sat beside her husband in the foremost cart. Mr. Bowles, very tired,but quite resplendent, walked dutifully beside one wheel; Mr. Saunderstook his post at the other. It might have been noticed that the lattercut a very different figure from that which he displayed on his firstinvasion of the street earlier in the day. The servants came alongbehind in the second cart. Far ahead, like hounds in full cry, toiledthe unwilling luggage bearers. From the windows and doorways of everyhouse, from the bazaars and cafés, from the side streets andmosque-approaches, the gaze of the sullen populace fastened itself uponthe little procession. The town seemed ominously silent. Deppinghamlooked again and again at the red coat on the sloping shoulders of theirguardian, and marvelled not a little at the vastness of the Britishdominion. He recalled his red hunting coat in one of the bags ahead, andmentally resolved to wear it on all occasions—perhaps going so far asto cut off its tails if necessary.

At last they came to the end of the sunlit street and plunged into theshady road that ascended the slope through what seemed to be anabsolutely unbroken though gorgeous jungle. The cool green depths lookedmost alluring to the sun-baked travellers; they could almost imaginethat they heard the dripping of fountains, the gurgling of rivulets, solike paradise was the prospect ahead. Lady Agnes could not restrain hercries of delighted amazement.

"It's like this all over the island, your ladyship," volunteered Mr.Bowles, mopping his brow in a most unmilitary way. "Except at the minesand back there in the town."

"Where are the mines?" asked Deppingham.

"The company's biggest mines are seven or eight miles eastward, as thecrow flies, quite at the other side of the island. It's very rocky overthere and there's no place for a landing from the sea. Everything isbrought overland to Aratat and placed in the vaults of the bank. Fourtimes a year the rubies and sapphires are shipped to the brokers inLondon and Paris and Vienna. It's quite a neat and regular arrangement,sir."

"But I should think the confounded natives would steal everything theygot their hands on."

"What would be the use, sir? They couldn't dispose of a single gem onthe island, and nothing is taken away from here except in the company'schests. Besides, my lord, these people are not thieves. They areabsolutely honest. Smugglers have tried to bribe them, and the smugglershave never lived to tell of it. They may kill people occasionally, butthey are quite honest, believe me. And, in any event, are they not apart of the great corporation? They have their share in the working ofthe mines and in the profits. Mr. Wyckholme and Mr. Skaggs were honestwith them and they have been just as honest in return."

"Sounds very attractive," muttered Deppingham sceptically.

"I should think they'd be terribly tempted," said Lady Agnes. "They lookso wretchedly poor."

"They are a bit out at the knees," said her husband, with a greatlaugh.

"My lady," said Bowles, "there are but four poor men on the island:myself and the three Englishmen who operate the bank. There isn't a poorman, woman or child among the natives. This is truly a land of rich men.The superintendent of the mines is a white man—a German—and the threeforemen are Boers. They work on shares just as the natives do and saveeven more, I think. The clerical force is entirely native. There werebut ten white men here before you came, including two Greeks. There areno beggars. Perhaps you noticed that no one was asking for alms as youcame up."

"'Gad, I should say we did," exclaimed Deppingham ruefully. "Therewasn't even a finger held out to us. But is this a holiday on theisland?"

"A holiday, my lord?"

"Yes. No one seems to be at work."

"Oh? I see. Being part owners the natives have decided that four hoursconstitutes a day's work. They pay themselves accordingly, as it were.No one works after midday, sir."

"I say, wouldn't this be a paradise for the English workingman?" saidDeppingham. "That's the kind of a day's labor they'd like. Do you meanto say that these fellows trudge eight miles to work every morning andback again at noon?"

"Certainly not, sir. They ride their thoroughbred horses to work andride them back again. It's much better than omnibuses or horse cars, I'dsay, sir—as I remember them."

"You take my breath away," said the other, lapsing into a stunnedsilence.

The road had become so steep and laborious by this time that Bowles wasvery glad to forego the pleasure of talking. He fell back, with Mr.Saunders, and ultimately both of them climbed into the alreadyoverloaded second cart, adding much to the brown man's burden. Afterregaining his breath to some extent, the obliging Mr. Bowles, now beingamong what he called the lower classes, surreptitiously removed thetight-fitting red jacket, and proceeded to give the inquisitive lawyer'sclerk all the late news of the island.

The inhabitants of Japat, standing upon their rights as part owners ofthe mines and as prospective heirs to the entire fortune of Messrs.Skaggs and Wyckholme, had been prompt to protect themselves in a legalsense. They had leagued themselves together as one interest and hadengaged the services of eminent solicitors in London, who were torepresent them in the final settlement of the estate. London was to bethe battle ground in the coming conflict. A committee of three hadjourneyed to England to put the matter in the hands of these lawyers andwere now returning to the island with a representative of the firm, whowas coming out to stand guard, so to speak. Von Blitz, the Germansuperintendent, was the master mind in the native contingent. It was hewho planned and developed the course of action. The absent committee wascomposed of Ben Adi, Abdallah Ben Sabbat and Rasula, the Aratat lawyer.They were truly wise men from the East—old, shrewd, crafty and begottenof Mahomet.

The mines continued to be operated as usual, pending the arrival of theexecutors' representative, who, as we know, was now on the ground in theperson of Thomas Saunders. The fact that he also served as legal adviserto Lady Deppingham was not of sufficient moment to disturb thearrangements on either side. Every one realised that he could have noopportunity to exercise a prejudice, if he dared to have one. Saundersblinked his eyes nervously when Bowles made this pointed observation.

As for the American heir, Robert Browne, he had not yet arrived. He wascoming by steamer from the west, according to report, and was probablyon the Boswell, Sumatra to Madagascar, due off Aratat in two or threedays. Mr. Bowles jocosely inferred that it should be a very happy familyat the château, with the English and American heirs ever ready to heavethings at one another, regardless of propriety or the glassware.

"The islanders," said Mr. Bowles, lighting a cigarette, "it looks to me,have all the best of the situation. They get the property whether theymarry or not, while the original beneficiaries have to marry each otheror get off the island at the end of the year. Most of the islanders havegot three or four wives already. I daresay the legators took that intoconsideration when they devised the will. Von Blitz, the German, hasthree and is talking of another."

"You mean to say that they can have as many wives as they choose?"demanded Saunders, wrinkling his brow.

"Yes, just so long as they don't choose anybody else's."

Saunders was buried in thought for a long time, then he exclaimed,unconsciously aloud:

"My word!"

"Eh?" queried Bowles, arousing himself.

"I didn't say anything," retorted Saunders, looking up into the treetops.

In the course of an hour—a soft, sleepy hour, too, despite the wondrousnovelty of the scene and the situation—the travellers came into view ofthe now famous château.

Standing out against the sky, fully a mile ahead, was the home to whichthey were coming. The château, beautiful as a picture, lifted itselflike a dream castle above all that was earthly and sordid; it smileddown from its lofty terrace and glistened in the sunset glow, like thejewel that had been its godmother. Long and low, scolloped by itsgables, parapets and budding towers, the vast building gleamed redagainst the blue sky from one point of view and still redder against thegreen mountain from another. Soft, rich reds—not the red of blood, butof the unpolished ruby—seemed to melt softly in the eye as one gazedupward in simple wonder. The dream house of two lonely old men who hadno place where they could spend their money!

According to its own records, the château, fashioned quite closely aftera famous structure in France, was designed and built by La Marche, theill-fated French architect who was lost at sea in the wreck of theVendome. Three years and more than seven hundred thousand poundssterling, or to make it seem more prodigious, nearly eighteen millionfrancs, were consumed in its building. An army of skilled artisans hadcome out from France and Austria to make this quixotic dream a realitybefore the two old men should go into their dreamless sleep; to saynothing of the slaving, faithful islanders who laboured for love in thegreat undertaking. Specially chartered ships had carried material andmen to the island—and had carried the men away again, for not one ofthem remained behind after the completion of the job.

There was not a contrivance or a convenience known to modernarchitecture that was not included in the construction of thislatter-day shadow of antiquity.

It was, to step on ahead of the story as politely as possible, fully aweek before Lord and Lady Deppingham realised all that their new homemeant in the way of scientific improvement and, one might say, research.It was so spacious, so comprehensive of domain, so elaborate, that onemust have been weeks in becoming acquainted with its fastnesses, if thatword may be employed. To what uses Taswell Skaggs and John Wyckholmecould have put this vast, though splendid waste, the imagination cannotgrasp. Apartments fit for a king abounded; suites which took one back tothe luxuries of Marie Antoinette were common; banquet halls, ball rooms,reception halls, a chapel, and even a crypt were to be found if oneundertook a voyage of discovery. Perhaps it is safe to say that none ofthese was ever used by the original owners, with the exception of thecrypt; John Wyckholme reposed there, alone in his dignity, undisturbedby so little as the ghost of a tradition.

The terrace, wide and beautiful, was the work of a famous landscapegardener. Engineers had come out from England to install the mostcomplete water and power plant imaginable. Not only did they bring waterup from the sea, but they turned the course of a clear mountain streamso that it virtually ran through the pipes and faucets of the vastestablishment. The fountains rivalled in beauty those at Versailles,though not so extensive; the artificial lake, while not built in anight, as one other that history mentions, was quite as attractive.Water mains ran through miles of the tropical forest and, no matter howgreat the drouth, the natives kept the verdure green and fresh with aconstancy that no real wage-earner could have exercised. As to thestables, they might have aroused envy in the soul of any sportingmonarch.

It was a palace, but they had called it a château, because Skaggsstubbornly professed to be democratic. The word palace meant more to himthan château, although opinions could not have mattered much on theisland of Japat. Inasmuch as he had not, to his dying day, solved themanifold mysteries of the structure, it is not surprising that he neverdeveloped sufficient confidence to call it other than "the place."

Now and then, officers from some British man-of-war stopped off forentertainment in the château, and it was only on such occasions thatSkaggs realised what a gorgeously beautiful home it was that he livedin. He had seen Windsor Castle in his youth, but never had he seenanything so magnificent as the crystal chandelier in his own hallwaywhen it was fully lighted for the benefit of the rarely present guests.On the occasion of his first view of the chandelier in its completeglory, it is said that he walked blindly against an Italian table ofsolid marble and was in bed for eleven days with a bruised hip. Thepolished floors grew to be a horror to him. He could not enumerate thetimes their priceless rugs had slipped aimlessly away from him, leavinghim floundering in profane wrath upon the glazed surface. The barethought of crossing the great ballroom was enough to send him into aperspiration. He became so used to walking stiff-legged on the hardwoodfloors that it grew to be a habit which would not relax. The servantswere authority for the report, that no earlier than the day before hisdeath, he slipped and fell in the dining-room, and thereupon swore thathe would have Portland cement floors put in before Christmas.

Lord and Lady Deppingham, being first in the field, at once proceeded tosettle themselves in the choicest rooms—a Henry the Sixth suite whichlooked out on the sea and the town as well. It is said that Wyckholmeslept there twice, while Skaggs looked in perhaps half a dozentimes—when he was lost in the building, and trying to find his way backto familiar haunts.

There was not a sign of a servant about the house or grounds. The menwhom Bowles had engaged, carried the luggage to the rooms which LadyDeppingham selected, and then vanished as if into space. They escapedwhile the new tenants were gorging their astonished, bewildered eyeswith the splendors of the apartment.

"We'll have to make the best of it," sighed Deppingham in response tohis wife's lamentations. "I daresay, Antoine and the maids can get ourthings into some sort of shape, my dear. What say to a little strollabout the grounds while they are doing it? By Jove, it would be excitingif we were to find a ruby or two. Saunders says they are as common asstrawberries in July."

Mr. Bowles, who had resumed his coat of red, joined them in the strollabout the gardens, pointing out objects of certain interest and tellingthe cost of each to the penny.

"I can't conduct you through the château," he apologised as they werereturning after the short tour. "They can't close the bank until I setthe balance sheet, sir, and it's now two hours past closing time. Itdoesn't matter, however, my lord," he added hastily, "we enjoy anythingin the shape of a diversion."

"See here, Mr.—er—old chap, what are we to do about servants? We can'tget on without them, you know."

"Oh, the horses are being well cared for in the valley, sir. You needn'tworry a bit—"

"Horses! What we want, is to be cared for ourselves. Damn the horses,"roared his lordship.

"They say these Americans are a wonderful people, my lord," ventured Mr.Bowles. "I daresay when Mr. and Mrs. Browne arrive, they'll have someway of—"

"Browne!" cried her ladyship. "This very evening I shall give ordersconcerning the rooms they are to occupy. And that reminds me: I mustlook the place over thoroughly before they arrive. I suppose, however,that the rooms we have taken are the best?"

"The choicest, my lady," said Bowles, bowing.

"See here, Mr.—er—old chap, don't you think you can induce theservants to come back to us? By Jove, I'll make it worth your while. Theplace surely must need cleaning up a bit. It's some months since theold—since Mr. Skaggs died." He always said "Skaggs" after a scornfulpause and in a tone as disdainfully nasal as it was possible for him toproduce.

"Not at all, my lord. The servants did not leave the place until yoursteamer was sighted this morning. It's as clean as a pin."

"This morning?"

"Yes, my lord. They would not desert the château until they were sureyou were on board. They were extraordinarily faithful."

"I don't see it that way, leaving us like this. What's to become of theplace? Can't I get an injunction, or whatever you call it?"

"What are we to do?" wailed Lady Agnes, sitting down suddenly upon theedge of a fountain.

"You see, my lady, they take the position that you have no right here,"volunteered Bowles.

"How absurd! I am heir to every foot of this island—"

"They are very foolish about it I'm sure. They've got the ridiculousidea into their noddles that you can't be the heiress unless LordDeppingham passes away inside of a year, and—"

"I'm damned if I do!" roared the perspiring obstacle. "I'm not soobliging as that, let me tell you. If it comes to that, what sort of anass do they think I'd be to come away out here to pass away? London'sgood enough for any man to die in."

"You are not going to die, Deppy," said his wife consolingly. "Unlessyou starve to death," she supplemented with an expressive moue.

"I daresay you'll find a quantity of tinned meats and vegetables in thestorehouse, my lady. You can't starve until the supply gives out.American tinned meats," vouchsafed Mr. Bowles with his best Englishgrimace.

"Come along, Aggy," said her liege lord resignedly. "Let's have a lookabout the place."

Mr. Saunders met them at the grand entrance. He announced that four ofthe native servants had been found, dead drunk, in the wine cellar.

"They can't move, sir. We thought they were dead."

"Keep 'em in that condition, for the good Lord's sake," exclaimedDeppingham. "We'll make sure of four servants, even if we have to keep'em drunk for six months."

"Good day, your lordship—my lady," said Bowles, edging away. "Perhaps Ican intercede for you when their solicitor comes on. He's due to-morrow,I hear. It is possible that he may advise at least a score of theservants to return."

"Send him up to me as soon as he lands," commanded Deppingham calmly.

"Very good, sir," said Mr. Bowles.

CHAPTER VII

THE BROWNES ARRIVE

Contrary to all expectations, the Brownes arrived the next morning. TheDeppinghams and their miserably frightened servants were scarcely out ofbed when Saunders came in with the news that a steamer was standing offthe shallow harbour. Bowles had telephoned up that the American claimantwas on board.

Lady Agnes and her husband had not slept well. They heard noises fromone end of the night to the other, and they were most unusual noises atthat. The maids had flatly refused to sleep in the servants' wing, fullya block away, so they were given the next best suite of rooms on thefloor, quite cutting off every chance the Brownes may have had forchoice of apartments. Pong howled all night long, but his howls were asnothing compared to the screams of night birds in the trees close by.

The deepest gloom pervaded the household when Lady Deppingham discoveredthat not one of their retinue knew how to make coffee or broil bacon.Not that she cared for bacon, but that his lordship always asked for itwhen they did not have it. The evening before they had philosophicallydined on tinned food. She brewed a delightful tea, and Antoine openedthree or four kinds of wine. Altogether it was not so bad. But in themorning! Everything looked different in the morning. Everything alwaysdoes, one way or another.

Bromley upset the last peg of endurance by hoping that the Americanswere bringing a cook and a housemaid with them.

"The Americans always travel like lords," she concluded, forgetting thatshe served a lord, and not in the least intending to be ironical.

"That will do, Bromley," said her mistress sharply. "If they're likemost Americans I've seen they'll have nothing but wet nurses andchauffeurs. I can't eat this vile stuff." She had already burned herfingers and dropped a slice of beechnut bacon on her sweet littlemorning gown. "Come on, Deppy; let's go up and watch the approach of theenemy."

Dolefully they passed out of the culinary realm; it is of record thatthey never looked into it from that hour forth. On the broad,vine-covered gallery they sat in dour silence and in silence took turnswith Deppy's binoculars in the trying effort to make out what was goingon in the offing. The company's tug seemed unusually active. It bustledabout the big steamer with an industriousness that seemed almostfrantic. The laziness that had marked its efforts of the day before wasamazingly absent. At last they saw it turn for the shore, racing inwardwith a great churning of waves and a vast ado in its smokestack.

From their elevated position, the occupants of the gallery could see thedistant pier. When the tug drew up to its moorings, the same motionlesshorde of white-robed natives lined up along the dock building. Trunks,boxes and huge crated objects were hustled off the boat with astonishingrapidity. Deppingham stared hard and unbelieving at this evidence ofhaste.

Five or six strangers stood upon the pier, very much as their party hadstood the day before. There were four women and—yes, two men. The menseemed to be haranguing the natives, although no gesticulations werevisible. Suddenly there was a rush for the trunks and boxes and crates,and, almost before the Lady Agnes could catch the breath she had lost,the whole troupe was hurrying up the narrow street, luggage and all. Theonce-sullen natives seemed to be fighting for the privilege of carryingsomething. A half dozen of them dashed hither and thither and returnedwith great umbrellas, which they hoisted above the heads of thenewcomers. Lady Agnes sank back, faint with wonder, as the concourselost itself among the houses of the agitated town.

Scarcely half an hour passed before the advance guard of the Brownecompany came into view at the park gates below. Deppingham recalled thefact that an hour and a half had been consumed in the accomplishmentyesterday. He was keeping a sharp lookout for the magic red jacket andthe Tommy Atkins lid. Quite secure from observation, he and his wifewatched the forerunners with the hand bags; then came the sweating trunkbearers and then the crated objects in—what? Yes, by the Lord Harry, inthe very carts that had been their private chariots the day before!

Deppingham's wrath did not really explode until the two were gazingopen-mouthed upon Robert Browne and his wife and his maidservants andhis ass—for that was the name which his lordship subsequently applied,with no moderation, to the unfortunate gentleman who served as Mr.Browne's attorney. The Americans were being swiftly, cozily carried totheir new home in litters of oriental comfort and elegance, fannedvigorously from both sides by eager boys. First came the Brownes,eager-faced, bright-eyed, alert young people, far better looking thantheir new enemies could conscientiously admit under the circ*mstances;then the lawyer from the States; then a pert young lady in a pink shirtwaist and a sailor hat; then two giggling, utterly un-English maids—andall of them lolling in luxurious ease. The red jacket was conspicuouslyabsent.

It is not to be wondered at that his lordship looked at his wife, gulpedin sympathy, and then said something memorable.

Almost before they could realise what had happened the newcomers werechattering in the spacious halls below, tramping about the rooms, andgiving orders in high, though apparently efficacious voices. Trunksrattled about the place, barefooted natives shuffled up and down thecorridors and across the galleries, quick American heels clattered onthe marble stairways; and all this time the English occupants sat incold silence, despising the earth and all that therein dwelt.

Mr. and Mrs. Browne evidently believed in the democratic firstprinciples of their native land: they did not put themselves above theirfellow-man. Close at their heels trooped the servants, all of whom tookpart in the discussion incident to fresh discoveries. At last they cameupon the great balcony, pausing just outside the French windows toexclaim anew in their delight.

"Great!" said the lawyer man, after a full minute. He was not at alllike Mr. Saunders, who looked on from an obscure window in the distantleft. "Finest I've ever seen. Isn't it a picture, Browne?"

"Glorious," said young Mr. Browne, taking a long breath. TheDeppinghams, sitting unobserved, saw that he was a tall, good-lookingfellow. They were unconscionably amused when he suddenly reached out andtook his wife's hand in his big fingers. Her face was flushed withexcitement, her eyes were wide and sparkling. She was very trim andcool-looking in her white duck; moreover, she was of the type that looksexceedingly attractive in evening dress—at least, that was Deppingham'sinnermost reflection. It was not until after many weeks had passed,however, that Lady Agnes admitted that Brasilia Browne was a very prettyyoung woman.

"Most American women are, after a fashion," she then confessed toDeppingham, and not grudgingly.

"What does Baedeker say about it, Bobby?" asked Mrs. Browne. Her voicewas very soft and full—the quiet, well-modulated Boston voice andmanner.

"Baedeker?" whispered Deppingham, passing his hand over his brow inbewilderment. His wife was looking serenely in the opposite direction.

The pert girl in the pink waist opened a small portfolio while theothers gathered around her. She read therefrom. The lawyer, when she hadconcluded, drew a compass from his pocket, and, walking over to thestone balustrade, set it down for observation. Then he pointed vaguelyinto what proved to be the southwest.

"We must tell Lady Deppingham not to take the rooms at this end," wasthe next thing that the listeners heard from Mrs. Browne's lips. Herladyship turned upon her husband with a triumphant sniff and a knowingsmile.

"What did I tell you?" she whispered. "I knew they'd want the best ofeverything. Isn't it lucky I pounced upon those rooms? They shan't turnus out. You won't let 'em, will you, Deppy?"

"The impudence of 'em!" was all that Deppy could sputter.

At that moment, the American party caught sight of the pair in thecorner. For a brief space of time the two parties stared at each other,very much as the hunter and the hunted look when they come face to facewithout previous warning. Then a friendly, half-abashed smile lightedBrowne's face. He came toward the Deppinghams, his straw hat in hishand. His lordship retained his seat and met the smile with a cold stareof superiority.

"I beg your pardon," said Browne. "This is Lord Deppingham?"

"Ya-as," drawled Deppy, with a look which was meant to convey theimpression that he did not know who the deuce he was addressing.

"Permit me to introduce myself. I am Robert Browne."

"Oh," said Deppy, as if that did not convey anything to him. Then as anafterthought: "Glad to know you, I'm sure." Still he did not rise, nordid he extend his hand. For a moment young Browne waited, a dull redgrowing in his temples.

"Don't you intend to present me to Lady Deppingham?" he demandedbluntly, without taking his eyes from Deppy's face.

"Oh—er—is that necess—"

"Lady Deppingham," interrupted Browne, turning abruptly from the man inthe chair and addressing the lady in azure blue who sat on thebalustrade, "I am Robert Browne, the man you are expected to marry.Please don't be alarmed. You won't have to marry me. Our grandfathersdid not observe much ceremony in mating us, so I don't see why we shouldstand upon it in trying to convince them of their error. We are here forthe same purpose, I suspect. We can't be married to each other. That'sout of the question. But we can live together as if we—"

"Good Lord!" roared Deppy, coming to his feet in a towering rage. Brownesmiled apologetically and lifted his hand.

"—as if we were serving out the prescribed period of courtship set downin the will. Believe me, I am very happily married, as I hope you are.The courtship, you will perceive, is neither here nor there. Please bearwith me, Lord Deppingham. It's the silly will that brings us together,not an affinity. Our every issue is identical, Lady Deppingham. Doesn'tit strike you that we will be very foolish if we stand alone and againsteach other?"

"My solicitor—" began Lady Deppingham, and then stopped. She wassmiling in spite of herself. This frank, breezy way of putting it hadnot offended her, after all, much to her surprise.

"Your solicitor and mine can get together and talk it over," said Browneblandly. "We'll leave it to them. I simply want you to know that I amnot here for the purpose of living at swords' points with you. I amquite ready to be a friendly ally, not a foe."

"Let me understand you," began Deppingham, cooling off suddenly. "Do youmean to say that you are not going to fight us in this matter?"

"Not at all, your lordship," said Browne coolly. "I am here to fightTaswell Skaggs and John Wyckholme, deceased. I imagine, if you'll have atalk with your solicitor, that that is precisely what you are here for,too. As next nearest of kin, I think both of us will run no risk if wesmash the will. If we don't smash it, the islanders will cheerfully takethe legacy off our hands."

"By Jove," muttered Deppy, looking at his wife.

"Thank you, Mr. Browne, for being so frank with us," she said coolly."If you don't mind, I will consult my solicitor." She bowed ever soslightly, indicating that the interview was at an end, and, moreover,that it had not been of her choosing.

"Any time, your ladyship," said Browne, also bowing. "I think Mrs.Browne wants to speak to you about the rooms."

"We are quite settled, Mr. Browne, and very well satisfied," she saidpointedly, turning red with a fresh touch of anger.

"I trust you have not taken the rooms at this end."

"We have. We are occupying them." She arose and started away, Deppinghamhesitating between his duty to her and the personal longing to pullBrowne's nose.

"I'm sorry," said Browne. "We were warned not to take them. They aresaid to be unbearable when the hot winds come in October."

"What's that?" demanded Deppingham.

"The book of instruction and description which we have secured sets allthat out," said the other. "Mr. Britt, my attorney, had his stenographertake it all down in Bombay. It's our private Baedeker, you see. Wecalled on the Bombay agent for the Skaggs-Wyckholme Company. He livedwith them in this house for ten months. No one ever slept in this end ofthe building. It's strange that the servants didn't warn you."

"The da—the confounded servants left us yesterday before we came—everymother's son of 'em. There isn't a servant on the place."

"What? You don't mean it?"

"Are you coming?" called Lady Deppingham from the doorway.

"At once, my dear," replied Deppingham, shuffling uneasily. "By Jove,we're in a pretty mess, don't you know. No servants, no food, no----"

"Wait a minute, please," interrupted Browne. "I say, Britt, come here amoment, will you? Lord Deppingham says the servants have struck."

The American lawyer, a chubby, red-faced man of forty, with clear greyeyes and a stubby mustache, whistled soulfully.

"What's the trouble? Cut their wages?" he asked.

"Wages? My good man, we've never laid eyes on 'em," said Deppingham,drawing himself up.

"I'll see what I can do, Mr. Browne. Got to have cooks, eh, LordDeppingham?" Without waiting for an answer he dashed off. His lordshipobserving that his wife had disappeared, followed Browne to thebalustrade, overlooking the upper terrace. The native carriers wereleaving the grounds, when Britt's shrill whistle brought them to astandstill. No word of the ensuing conversation reached the ears of thetwo white men on the balcony, but the pantomime was most entertaining.

Britt's stocky figure advanced to the very heart of the group. It wasquite evident that his opening sentences were listened to impassively.Then, all at once, the natives began to gesticulate furiously and toshake their heads. Whereupon Britt pounded the palm of his left handwith an emphatic right fist, occasionally pointing over his shoulderwith a stubborn thumb. At last, the argument dwindled down to a force oftwo—Britt and a tall, sallow Mohammedan. For two minutes they haranguedeach other and then the native gave up in despair. The lawyer waved atriumphant hand to his friends and then climbed into one of the litters,to be borne off in the direction of the town.

"He'll have the servants back at work before two o'clock," said Brownecalmly. Deppingham was transfixed with astonishment.

"How—how the devil do you—does he bring 'em to time like that?" hemurmured. He afterward said that if he had had Saunders there at thathumiliating moment he would have kicked him.

"They're afraid of the American battleship," said Browne.

"But where is the American battleship?" demanded Deppingham, lookingwildly to sea.

"They understand that there will be one here in a day or two if we needit," said Browne with a sly grin. "That's the bluff we've worked." Helooked around for his wife, and, finding that she had gone inside,politely waved his hand to the Englishman and followed.

At three o'clock, Britt returned with the recalcitrant servants—or atleast the "pick" of them, as he termed the score he had chosen from thehundred or more. He seemed to have an Aladdin-like effect over thehorde. It did not appear to depress him in the least that from among thepersonal effects of more than one peeped the ominous blade of a kris, orthe clutch of a great revolver. He waved his hand and snapped hisfingers and they herded into the servants' wing, from which in atwinkling they emerged ready to take up their old duties. They were nota liveried lot, but they were swift and capable.

Calmly taking Lord Deppingham and his following into his confidence, hesaid, in reply to their indignant remonstrances, later on in the day:

"I know that an American man-o'-war hasn't any right to fire uponBritish possessions, but you just keep quiet and let well enough alone.These fellows believe that the Americans can shoot straighter and withless pity than any other set of people on earth. If they ever find outthe truth, we won't be able to control 'em a minute. It won't hurt youto let 'em believe that we can blow the Island off the map in half aday, and they won't believe you if you tell 'em anything to thecontrary. They just simply know that I can send wireless messages andthat a cruiser would be out there to-morrow if necessary, pegging awayat these green hills with cannon balls so big that there wouldn't beanything left but the horizon in an hour or two. You let me do thetalking. I've got 'em bluffed and I'll keep 'em that way. Look at that!See those fellows getting ready to wash the front windows? They don'tneed it, I'll confess, but it makes conversation in the servants' hall."

Over in the gorgeous west wing, Lord Deppingham later on tried toconvince his sulky little wife that the Americans were an amazing lot,after all. Bromley tapped at the door.

"Tea is served in the hanging garden, my lady," she announced. Hermistress looked up in surprise, red-eyed and a bit dishevelled.

"The—the what?"

"It's a very pretty place just outside the rooms of the American ladyand gentleman, my lady. It's on the shady side and quite under the shelfof the mountain. There's a very cool breeze all the time, they say, fromthe caverns."

Deppingham glanced at the sun-baked window ledges of their own rooms andswore softly.

"Ask some one to bring the tea things in here, Bromley," she saidsternly, her piquant face as hard and set as it could possiblybe—which, as a matter of fact, was not noticeably adamantine. "Besides,I want to give some orders. We must have system here, not Americanisms."

"Very well, my lady."

After she had retired Deppingham was so unwise as to run his fingeraround the inside of his collar and utter the lamentation:

"By Jove, Aggie, it is hot in these rooms." She transfixed him with astare.

"I find it delightfully cool, George." She called him George only whenit was impossible to call him just what she wanted to.

The tea things did not come in; in their stead came pretty Mrs. Browne.She stood in the doorway, a pleading sincere smile on her face.

"Won't you please join Mr. Browne and me in that dear little garden?It's so cool up there and it must be dreadfully warm here. Really, youshould move at once into Mr. Wyckholme's old apartments across the courtfrom ours. They are splendid. But, now do come and have tea with us."

Whether it was the English love of tea or the American girl's method ofmaking it, I do not know, but I am able to record the fact that Lord andLady Deppingham hesitated ever so briefly and—fell.

"Extraordinary, Browne," said Deppingham, half an hour later. "Whatwonders you chaps can perform."

"Ho, ho!" laughed Browne. "We only strive to land on our feet, that'sall. Another cigarette, Lady Deppingham?"

"Thank you. They are delicious. Where do you get them, Mr. Browne?"

"From the housekeeper. Your grandfather brought them over from London.My grandfather stored them away."

CHAPTER VIII

THE MAN FROM BRODNEY'S

It was quite forty-eight hours before the Deppinghams surrendered to theBrownes. They were obliged to humbly admit, in the seclusion of theirown councils, that it was to the obnoxious but energetic Britt that theyowed their present and ever-growing comfort.

It is said that Mr. Saunders learned more law of a useful and purposefulcharacter during his first week of consultation with Britt than he couldhave dreamed that the statutes of England contained. Britt's brain was awhirlpool of suggestions, tricks, subterfuges and—yes, witticisms—thatSaunders never even pretended to appreciate, although he was obligingenough to laugh at the right time quite as often as at the wrong. "Hetalks about what Dan Webster said, how Dan Voorhees could handle a jury,why Abe Lincoln and Andy Jackson were so—" Saunders would begin in adazzled sort of way.

"Mr. Saunders, will you be good enough to ask Bromley to take Pong outfor a walk?" her ladyship would interrupt languidly, and Saunders woulddescend to the requirements of his position.

Late in the afternoon of the day following the advent of the Brownes,Lord and Lady Deppingham were laboriously fanning themselves in themidst of their stifling Marie Antoinette elegance.

"By Jove, Aggie, it's too beastly hot here for words," growled he forthe hundredth time. "I think we'd better move into your grandfather'srooms."

"Now, Deppy, don't let the Brownes talk you into everything theysuggest," she complained, determined to be stubborn to the end. "Theyknow entirely too much about the place already; please don't let themknow you as intimately."

"That's all very good, my dear, but you know quite as well as I that wemade a frightful mistake in choosing these rooms. It is cooler on thatside of the house. I'm not too proud to be comfortable, don't you know.Have you had a look at your grandfather's rooms?"

She was silent for a long time, pondering. "No, I haven't, Deppy, but Idon't mind going over there now with you—just for a look. We can do itwithout letting them see us, you know."

Just as they were ready to depart stealthily for the distant wing, aservant came up to their rooms with a note from Mrs. Browne. It was aninvitation to join the Americans at dinner that evening in the grandbanquet hall. Across the bottom of Mrs. Browne's formal little note, herhusband had jauntily scrawled: "Just to see how small we'll feel in aninety by seventy dining-room" Lady Deppingham flushed and her eyesglittered as she handed the note to her husband.

"Rubbish!" she exclaimed. Paying no heed to the wistful look in his eyesor to the appealing shuffle of his foot, she sent back a dignifiedlittle reply to the effect that "A previous engagement would prevent,etc." The polite lie made it necessary for them to venture forth atdinner time to eat their solitary meal of sardines and wafers in thegrove below. The menu was limited to almost nothing because Deppyrefused to fill his pockets with "tinned things and biscuit."

The next day they moved into the west wing, and that evening they hadthe Brownes to dine with them in the banquet hall. Deppingham awoke inthe middle of the night with violent cramps in his stomach. He sufferedin silence for a long time, but, the pain growing steadily worse, hisstoicism gave way to alarm. A sudden thought broke in upon him, and witha shout that was almost a shriek he called for Antoine. The valet foundhim groaning and in a cold perspiration.

"Don't say a word to Lady Deppingham," he grunted, sitting up in bed andgazing wildly at the ceiling, "but I've been poisoned. The demmedservants—ouch!—don't you know! Might have known. Silly ass! See what Imean? Get something for me—quick!"

For two hours Antoine applied hot water bags and soothing syrups, andhis master, far from dying as he continually prophesied, dropped offinto a peaceful sleep.

The next morning Deppingham, fully convinced that the native servantshad tried to poison him, inquired of his wife if she had felt thealarming symptoms. She confessed to a violent headache, but laid it tothe champagne. Later on, the rather haggard victim approached Brownewith subtle inquiries. Browne also had a headache, but said he wasn'tsurprised. Fifteen minutes later, Deppingham, taking the bit in hisquivering mouth, unconditionally discharged the entire force of nativeservants. He was still in a cold perspiration when he sent Saunders totell his wife what he had done and what a narrow escape all of them hadhad from the treacherous Moslems.

Of course, there was a great upheaval. Lady Agnes came tearing down tothe servants' hall, followed directly by the Brownes and Mr. Britt. Thenatives were ready to depart, considerably nonplussed, but not a littlerelieved.

"Stop!" she cried. "Deppy, what are you doing? Discharging them afterwe've had such a time getting them? Are you crazy?"

"They're a pack of snakes—I mean sneaks. They're assassins. They triedto poison every one of us last—"

"Nonsense! You ate too much. Besides, what's the odds between beingpoisoned and being starved to death? Where is Mr. Britt?" She gave asharp cry of relief as Britt came dashing down the corridor. "We mustengage them all over again," she lamented, after explaining thesituation. "Stand in the door, Deppy, and don't let them out until Mr.Britt has talked with them," she called to the disgraced nobleman.

"They won't stop for me," he muttered, looking at the half-dozen krisesthat were visible.

Britt smoothed the troubled waters with astonishing ease; the servantsreturned to their duties, but not without grumbling and no end of savageglances, all of which were levelled at the luckless Deppingham.

"By Jove, you'll see, sooner or later," he protested, like theschoolboy, almost ready to hope that the servants would bear him out bydoling out ample quantities of strychnine that very night.

"Why poison?" demanded Britt. "They've got knives and guns, haven'tthey?"

"My dear man, that would put them to no end of trouble, cleaning upafter us," said Deppingham, loftily.

The next day the horses were brought in from the valley, and the trapswere put to immediate use. A half-dozen excursions were planned by thenow friendly beneficiaries; life on the island, aside from certain legalrestraints, began to take on the colour of a real holiday.

Two lawyers, each clever in his own way, were watching every move withthe faithfulness of brooding hens. Both realised, of course, that thegreat fight would take place in England; they were simply active asoutposts in the battle of wits. They posed amiably as common allies inthe fight to keep the islanders from securing a single point of vantageduring the year.

"If they hadn't been in such a hurry to get married," Britt wouldlament.

"Do you know, I don't believe a man should marry before he's thirty, awoman twenty-six," Saunders would observe in return.

"You're right, Saunders. I agree with you. I was married twice before Iwas thirty," reflected Britt on one occasion.

"Ah," sympathised Saunders. "You left a wife at home, then?"

"Two of 'em," said Britt, puffing dreamily. "But they are other men'swives now." Saunders was half an hour grasping the fact that Britt hadbeen twice divorced.

Meanwhile, it may be well to depict the situation from the enemy's pointof view—the enemy being the islanders as a unit. They were prepared toabide by the terms of the will so long as it remained clear to them thatfair treatment came from the opposing interests. Rasula, the Aratatlawyer, in mass meeting, had discussed the document. They understood itsrequirements and its restrictions; they knew, by this time, that therewas small chance of the original beneficiaries coming into the propertyunder the provisions. Moreover, they knew that a bitter effort would bemade to break this remarkable instrument in the English courts. Theirattitude, in consequence, toward the grandchildren of their former lordswas inimical, to say the least.

"We can afford to wait a year," Rasula had said in another mass meetingafter the two months of suspense which preceded the discovery thatgrandchildren really existed. "There is the bare possibility that theymay never marry each other," he added sententiously. Later came the newsthat marriage between the heirs was out of the question. Then theislanders laughed as they toiled. But they were not to be caughtnapping. Jacob von Blitz, the superintendent, stolid German that he was,saw far into the future. It was he who set the native lawyerunceremoniously aside and urged competent representation in London. Thegreat law firm headed by Sir John Brodney was chosen; a wide-awakerepresentative of the distinguished solicitors was now on his way to theisland with the swarthy committee which had created so much interest inthe metropolis during its brief stay.

Jacob von Blitz came to the island when he was twenty years old. Thatwas twenty years before the death of Taswell Skaggs. He had worked inthe South African diamond fields and had no difficulty in securingemployment with Skaggs and Wyckholme. Those were the days when the twoEnglishmen slaved night and day in the mines; they needed white men tostand beside them, for they looked ahead and saw what the growingdiscontent among the islanders was sure to mean in the end.

Von Blitz gradually lifted labour and responsibility from theirshoulders; he became a valued man, not alone because of his ability asan overseer, but on account of the influence he had gained over thenatives. It was he who acted as intermediary at the time of the revolt,many years before the opening of this tale. Through him the two issueswere pooled; the present co-operative plan was the result. For this hewas promptly accepted by both sides as deserving of a sharecorresponding to that of each native. From that day, he cast his lotwith the islanders; it was to him that they turned in every hour ofdifficulty.

Von Blitz was shrewd enough to see that the grandchildren were notcoming to the island for the mere pleasure of sojourning there; theirmotive was plain. It was he who advised—even commanded—the horde ofservants to desert the château. If they had been able to follow hisadvice, the new residents would have been without "help" to the end oftheir stay. The end of their stay, he figured, would not be many weeksfrom its beginning if they were compelled to dwell there without theluxury of servants. Bowles often related the story of Von Blitz's ragewhen he found that the recalcitrants had been persuaded to resume workby the American lawyer.

He lived, with his three wives, in the hills just above and south of thetown itself. The Englishmen who worked in the bank, and the three Boerforemen also, had houses up there where it was cooler, but Von Blitz wasthe only one who practised polygamy. His wives were Persian women andhandsome after the Persian fashion.

There were many Persian, Turkish and Arabian women on the island, wivesof the more potential men. It was no secret that they had been purchasedfrom avaricious masters on the mainland, in Bagdad and Damascus and thePersian gulf ports—sapphires passing in exchange. Marriages wereperformed by the local priests. There were no divorces. Perhaps theremay have been a few more wife murders than necessary, but, if oneassumes to call wife murder a crime, he must be reminded that thenatives of Japat were fatalists. In contradiction to this belief,however, it is related that one night a wife took it upon herself toreverse the lever of destiny: she slew her husband. That, of course, wasa phase of fatalism that was not to be tolerated. The populace burnedher at a stake before morning.

One hot, dry afternoon about a week after the reopening of the château,the siesta of a swarthy population was disturbed by the shouts of thosewho kept impatient watch of the sea. Five minutes later the whole townof Aratat knew that the smoke of a steamer lay low on the horizon. Noone doubted that it came from the stack of the boat that was bringingRasula and the English solicitor. Joy turned to exultation when the wordcame down from Von Blitz that it was the long-looked-for steamship, theSir Joshua.

Just before dusk the steamer, flying the British colours, hove to offthe town of Aratat and signalled for the company's tug. There was no onein Aratat too old, too young or too ill to stay away from the pier andits vicinity. Bowles telephoned the news to the château, and theoccupants, in no little excitement, had their tea served on the grandcolonnade overlooking the town.

Von Blitz stood at the landing place to welcome Rasula and his comrades,and to be the first to clasp the hand of the man from London. For thefirst time in his life his stolidity gave way to something resemblingexhilaration. He cast more than one meaning glance at the château, andthose near by him heard him chuckle from time to time. The horde ofnatives seethed back and forth as the tug came running in; every eye wasstrained to catch the first glimpse of—Rasula? No! Of the man fromBrodney's!

At last his figure could be made out on the forward deck. His straw hatwas at least a head higher than the turban of Rasula, who was indicatingto him the interesting spots in the hills.

"He's big," commented Von Blitz, comfortably, more to himself than tohis neighbour. "And young," he added a few minutes later. Bowles,standing at his side, offered the single comment:

"Good-looking."

As the tall stranger stepped from the boat to the pier, Von Blitzsuddenly started back, a look of wonder in his soggy eyes. Then, athrill of satisfaction shot through his brain. He turned a look oftriumph upon Britt, who had elbowed through the crowd a moment beforeand was standing close by.

The newcomer was an American!

CHAPTER IX

THE ENEMY

"I've sighted the Enemy," exclaimed Bobby Browne, coming up fromNeptune's Pool—the largest of the fountains. His wife and LadyDeppingham were sitting in the cool retreat under the hanging garden."Would you care to have a peek at him?"

"I should think so," said his wife, jumping to her feet. "He's been onthe island three days, and we haven't had a glimpse of him. Come along,Lady Deppingham."

Lady Deppingham arose reluctantly, stifling a yawn.

"I'm so frightfully lazy, my dear," she sighed. "But," with a slightacceleration of speech, "anything in the shape of diversion is worth theeffort, I'm sure. Where is he?"

They had come to call the new American lawyer "The Enemy." No one knewhis name, or cared to know it, for that matter. Bowles, in answer to thetelephone inquiries of Saunders, said that the new solicitor had takentemporary quarters above the bank and was in hourly consultation withVon Blitz, Rasula and others. Much of his time was spent at the mines.Later on, it was commonly reported, he was to take up his residence inWyckholme's deserted bungalow, far up on the mountain side, in plainview from the château.

Life at the château had not been allowed to drag. The Deppinghams andthe Brownes confessed in the privacy of their chambers that there wasscant diplomacy in their "carryings-on," but without these indulgencesthe days and nights would have been intolerable.

The white servants had become good friends, despite the natural disdainthat the trained English expert feels for the unpolished Americandomestic. Antipathies were overlooked in the eager strife forcompanionship; the fact that one of Mrs. Browne's maids was of Irishextraction and the other a rosy Swede may have had something to do withtheir admission into the exclusive set below stairs, but that is outsidethe question. If the Suffolk maids felt any hesitancy about acceptingthe hybrid combination as their equals, it was never manifested by wordor deed. Even the astute Antoine, who had lived long in the boulevardsof Paris, and who therefore knew an American when he saw one at anydistance or at any price, evinced no uncertainty in proclaiming themAmericans.

Miss Pelham, the stenographer from West Twenty-third Street, might havebeen included in the circle from the first had not her dignity stood inthe way. For six days she held resolutely aloof from everything excepther notebook and her machine, but her stock of novels beginning to runlow, and the prospect of being bored to extinction for six months tocome looming up before her, she concluded to wave the olive branch inthe face of social ostracism, assuming a genial attitude ofcondescension, which was graciously overlooked by the others. As sheafterward said, there is no telling how low she might have sunk, had itnot entered her head one day to set her cap for the unsuspecting Mr.Saunders. She had learned, in the wisdom of her sex, that he was fancyfree. Mr. Saunders, fully warned against the American typewriter girl asa class, having read the most shocking jokes at her expense in the comicpapers, was rather shy at the outset, but Britt gallantly came to MissPelham's defence and ultimate rescue by emphatically assuring Saundersthat she was a perfect lady, guaranteed to cause uneasiness to no man'swife.

"But I have no wife," quickly protested Saunders, turning a dull red.

"The devil!" exclaimed Britt, apparently much upset by the revelation.

But of this more anon.

Browne conducted the two young women across the drawbridge and to thesunlit edge of the terrace, where two servants awaited them withparasols.

"Isn't it extraordinary, the trouble one is willing to take for themerest glimpse of a man?" sighed Lady Agnes. "At home we try to avoidthem."

"Indeed?" said pretty Mrs. Browne, with a slight touch of irony. It wasthe first sign of the gentle warfare which their wits were to wage.

"There he is! See him?" almost whispered Browne, as if the solitary,motionless figure at the foot of the avenue was likely to hear his voiceand be frightened away.

The Enemy was sitting serenely on one of the broad iron benches justinside the gates to the park, his arms stretched out along the back, hislegs extended and crossed. The great stone wall behind him affordedshelter from the broiling sun; satinwood trees lent an appearance ofcoolness that did not exist, if one were to judge by the absence of hatand the fact that his soft shirt was open at the throat. He was not morethan two hundred yards away from the clump of trees which screened hiswatchers from view. If he caught an occasional glimpse of dainty blueand white fabrics, he made no demonstration of interest oracknowledgment. It was quite apparent that he was lazily surveying thechâteau, puffing with consistent ease at the cigarette which droopedfrom his lips. His long figure was attired in light grey flannels; onecould not see the stripe at that distance, yet one could not helpfeeling that it existed—a slim black stripe, if any one should haveasked.

"Quite at home," murmured her ladyship, which was enough to show thatshe excused the intruder on the ground that he was an American.

"Mr. Britt was right," said Mrs. Browne irrelevantly. She was peering atthe stranger through the binoculars. "He is very good-looking."

"And you from Boston, too," scoffed Lady Deppingham. Mrs. Browneflushed, and smiled deprecatingly.

"Wonder what he's doing here in the grounds?" puzzled Browne.

"It's plain to me that he is resting his audacious bones," said herladyship, glancing brightly at her co-legatee. The latter's wife, in asudden huff, deliberately left them, crossing the macadam driveway inplain view of the stranger.

"She's not above an affair with him," was her hot, inward lament. Shewas mightily relieved, however, when the others tranquilly followed heracross the road, and took up a new position under the substitute clumpof trees.

The Enemy gave no sign of interest in these proceedings. If he wasconscious of being watched by these curious exiles, he was not in theleast annoyed. He did not change his position of indolence, nor did hepuff any more fretfully at his cigarette. Instead, his eyes were bentlazily upon the white avenue, his thoughts apparently far away from theview ahead. He came out of his lassitude long enough to roll and light afresh cigarette and to don his wide madras helmet.

Suddenly he looked to the right and then arose with some show ofalacrity. Three men were approaching by the path which led down from thefar-away stables. Browne recognised the dark-skinned men as servants inthe château—the major-domo, the chef, and the master of the stables.

"Lord Deppingham must have sent them down to pitch him over the wall,"he said, with an excited grin.

"Impossible! My husband is hunting for sapphires in the ravine backof—" She did not complete the sentence.

The Enemy was greeting the statuesque natives with a friendliness thatupset all calculations. It was evident that the meeting was prearranged.There was no attempt at secrecy; the conference, whatever its portent,had the merit of being quite above-board. In the end, the tallsolicitor, lifting his helmet with a gesture so significant that it leftno room for speculation, turned and sauntered through the broad gatewayand out into the forest road. The three servants returned as they hadcome, by way of the bridle path along the wall.

"The nerve of him!" exclaimed Browne. "That graceful attention was meantfor us."

"He is like the polite robber who first beats you to death and then saysthank you for the purse," said Lady Deppingham. "What a strangeproceeding, Mr. Browne. Can you imagine what it means?"

"Mischief of some sort, I'll be bound. I admire his nerve in holding theconfab under our very noses. I'll have Britt interview those fellows atonce. Our kitchen, our stable and our domestic discipline arethreatened."

They hastened to the château, and regaled the resourceful Britt with thedisquieting news.

"I'll have it out of 'em in a minute," he said confidently. "Where'sSaunders? Where's Miss Pelham? Confound the girl, she's never aroundwhen I want her these days. Hay, you!" to a servant. "Send Miss Pelhamto me. The one in pink, understand? Golden-haired one. Yes, yes, that'sright: the one who jiggles her fingers. Tell her to hurry."

But Miss Pelham was off in the wood, self-charged with the arousing ofMr. Saunders; an hour passed before she could be found and brought intothe light of Mr. Britt's reflections. If her pert nose was capable ofelevating itself in silent disdain, Mr. Saunders was not able to emulateits example. He was not so dazzled by the sunshine of her sprightlyrecitals but that he could look sheep-faced in the afterglow of Britt'sscorn.

Britt, with all his clever blustering, could elicit no information fromthe crafty head-servants. All they would say was that the strange sahibhad intercepted them on their way to the town, to ask if there were anyrooms to rent in the château.

"That's what he told you to say, isn't it?" demanded Britt angrily."Confounded his impudence! Rooms to rent!"

That evening he dragged the reluctant Saunders into the privacy of thehanging garden, and deliberately interrupted the game of bridge whichwas going on. If Deppingham had any intention to resent the intrusion ofthe solicitors, he was forestalled by the startling announcement of Mr.Britt, who seldom stood on ceremony where duty was concerned.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said Mr. Britt, calmly dropping into a chairnear by, "this place is full of spies."

"Spies!" cried four voices in unison. Mr. Saunders nodded a plaintiveapology.

"Yes, sir, every native servant here is a spy. That's what the Enemy washere for to-day. I've analysed the situation and I'm right. Ain't I, Mr.Saunders? Of course, I am. He came here to tell 'em what to do and howto report our affairs to him. See? Well, there you are. We've simply gotto be careful what we do and say in their presence. Leave 'em to me.Just be careful, that's all."

"I don't intend to be watched by a band of sneaks—" began LordDeppingham loftily.

"You can't help yourself," interrupted Britt.

"I'll discharge every demmed one of them, that's—"

"Leave 'em to me—leave 'em to me," exclaimed Britt impatiently. Hislordship stiffened but could find no words for instant use. "Now let metell you something. This lawyer of theirs is a smooth party. He's hereto look out for their interests and they know it. It's not to theirinterest to assassinate you or to do any open dirty work. He is tooclever for that. I've found out from Mr. Bowles just what the fellow hasdone since he landed, three days ago. He has gone over all of thecompany's accounts, in the office and at the mines, to see that we, asagents for the executors, haven't put up any job to mulct the nativesout of their share of the profits. He has organised the whole populationinto a sort of constabulary to protect itself against any shrewd move wemay contemplate. Moreover, he's getting the evidence of everybody toprove that Skaggs and Wyckholme were men of sound mind up to the hour oftheir death. He has the depositions of agents and dealers in Bombay,Aden, Suez and three or four European cities, all along that line. Hegoes over the day's business at the bank as often as we do as agents forthe executors. He knows just how many rubies and sapphires were washedout yesterday, and how much they weigh. It's our business, as youragents, to scrape up everything as far back as we can go to prove thatthe old chaps were mentally off their base when they drew up thatagreement and will. I think we've got a shade the best of it, eventhough the will looks good. The impulse that prompted it was a crazy onein the first place." He hesitated a moment and then went on carefully."Of course, if we can prove that insanity has always run through the twofamilies it—"

"Good Lord!" gasped Browne nervously.

"—it would be a great help. If we can show that you and Mrs.—er—LadyDeppingham have queer spells occasionally, it—"

"Not for all the islands in the world," cried Lady Deppingham. "Theidea! Queer spells! See here, Mr. Britt, if I have any queer spells tospeak of, I won't have them treated publicly. If Lord Deppingham canafford to overlook them, I daresay I can, also, even though it costs methe inheritance to do so. Please be good enough to leave me out of theinsanity dodge, as you Americans call it."

"Madam, God alone provides that part of your inheritance—" began Brittinsistently, fearing that he was losing fair ground.

"Then leave it for God to discover. I'll not be a party to it. It'sutter nonsense," she cried scathingly.

"Rubbish!" asserted Mr. Saunders boldly.

"What?" exclaimed Britt, turning upon Saunders so abruptly that thelittle man jumped, and immediately began to readjust his necktie."What's that? Look here; it's our only hope—the insanity dodge, I mean.They've got to show in an English court that Skaggs and—"

"Let them show what they please about Skaggs," interrupted Bobby Browne,"but, confound you, I can't have any one saying that I'm subject to fitsor spells or whatever you choose to call 'em. I don't have 'em, but evenif I did, I'd have 'em privately, not for the benefit of the public."

"Is it necessary to make my husband insane in order to establish thefact that his grandfather was not of sound mind?" queried pretty Mrs.Browne, with her calmest Boston inflection.

"It depends on your husband," said Britt coolly. "If he sticks atanything which may help us to break that will, he's certainly insane.That's all I've got to say about it."

"Well, I'm hanged if I'll pose as an insane man," roared Browne.

"Mr. Saunders hasn't asked me to be insane, have you, Mr. Saunders?"asked Lady Agnes in her sweetest, scorn.

"I don't apprehend—" began Saunders nervously.

"Saunders," said Britt, calculatingly and evenly, "next thing we'll haveto begin hunting for insanity in your family. We haven't heard anythingfrom you on this little point, Lord Deppingham."

"I don't know anything about Mr. Saunders's family," said Deppinghamstiffly. Britt looked at him for a moment, puzzled and uncertain. Thenhe gave a short, hopeless laugh and said, under his breath:

"Holy smoke!"

He immediately altered the course of the discussion and harked back tohis original declaration that spies abounded in the château. When hefinally called the conference adjourned and prepared to depart, hecalmly turned to the stenographer.

"Did you get all this down, Miss Pelham?"

"Yes, Mr. Britt."

"Good!" Then he went away, leaving the quartette unconsciously depressedby the emphasis he placed upon that single word.

The next day but one, it was announced that the Enemy had moved into thebungalow. Signs of activity about the rambling place could be made outfrom the hanging garden at the château. It was necessary, however, toemploy the binoculars in the rather close watch that was kept by theinterested aristocrats below. From time to time the grey, blue orwhite-clad figure of the Enemy could be seen directing the operations ofthe natives who were engaged in rehabilitating Wyckholme's "nest."

The château was now under the very eye of the Enemy.

CHAPTER X

THE AMERICAN BAR

"You're wanted at the 'phone, Mr. Britt," said Miss Pelham. It was latein the evening a day or two afterward. Britt went into the booth. He wasnot in there long, but when he came out he found that Miss Pelham haddisappeared. The coincidence was significant; Mr. Saunders was alsomissing from his seat on the window-sill at the far end of the longcorridor. Britt looked his disgust, and muttered somethingcharacteristic. Having no one near with whom he could communicate, heboldly set off for the hanging garden, where Deppingham had installedthe long-idle roulette paraphernalia. The quartette were placingprospective rubies and sapphires on the board, using gun-wads in lieu ofthe real article.

Britt's stocky figure came down through the maze of halls, across thevine-covered bridge and into the midst of a transaction which involvedperhaps a hundred thousand pounds in rubies.

"Say," he said, without ceremony, "the Enemy's in trouble. Bowles justtelephoned. There's a lot of excitement in the town. I don't know whatto make of it."

"Then why the devil are you breaking in here with it?" growledDeppingham, who was growing to hate Britt with an ardour that wasunmanageable.

"This'll interest you, never fear. There's been a row between Von Blitzand the lawyer, and the lawyer has unmercifully threshed Von Blitz. GoodLord, I'd like to have seen it, wouldn't you, Browne? Say, he's allright, isn't he?"

"What was it all about?" demanded Browne. They, were now listening, allattention.

"It seems that Von Blitz is in the habit of licking his wives," saidBritt. "Bowles was so excited he could hardly talk. It must have beenawful if it could get Bowles really awake."

"Miraculous!" said Deppingham conclusively.

"Well, as I get it, the lawyer has concluded to advance the Americanidiosyncrasy known as reform. It's a habit with us, my lady. We'll tryto reform heaven if enough of us get there to form a club. Von Blitzbeats his Persian wives instead of his Persian rugs, therefore he neededreforming. Our friend, the Enemy, met him this evening, and told himthat no white man could beat his wife, singular or plural, while he wasaround. Von Blitz is a big, ugly chap, and he naturally resented theinterference with his divine might. He told the lawyer to go hang orsomething equivalent. The lawyer knocked him down. By George, I'd liketo have seen it! From the way Bowles tells it, he must have knocked himdown so incessantly in the next five minutes that Von Blitz's attemptsto stand up were nothing short of a stutter. Moreover, he wouldn't letVon Blitz stab him worth a cent. Bowles says he's got Von Blitz cowed,and the whole town is walking in circles, it's so dizzy. Von Blitz'swives threaten to kill the lawyer, but I guess they won't. Bowles saysthat all the Persian and Turkish women on the island are crazy about thefellow."

"Mr. Britt!" protested Mrs. Browne.

"Beg pardon. Perhaps Bowles is wrong. Well, to make it short, the lawyerhas got Von Blitz to hating him secretly, and the German has a lot ofinfluence over the people. It may be uncomfortable for our good-lookingfriend. If he didn't seem so well able to look out for himself, I'd feelmighty uneasy about him. After all, he's a white man and a good fellow,I imagine."

"If he should be in great danger down there," said her ladyshipfirmly—perhaps consciously—"we must offer him a safe retreat in thechâteau." The others looked at her in surprise. "We can't stand off andsee him murdered, you know," she qualified hastily.

The next morning a messenger came up from the town with a letterdirected to Messrs. Britt and Saunders. It was from the Enemy, andrequested them to meet him in private conference at four that afternoon."I think it will be for the benefit of all concerned if we can gettogether," wrote the Enemy in conclusion.

"He's weakening," mused Britt, experiencing a sense of disappointmentover his countryman's fallibility. "My word for it, Saunders, he's goingto propose an armistice of some sort. He can't keep up the bluff."

"Shocking bad form, writing to us like this," said Saundersreflectively. "As if we'd go into any agreement with the fellow. I'msure Lady Deppingham wouldn't consider it for a moment."

The messenger carried back with him a dignified response in which thecounsellors for Mr. Browne and Lady Deppingham respectfully declined toengage in any conference at this time.

At two o'clock that afternoon the entire force of native servants pickedup their belongings, and marched out of the château. Britt stormed andthreatened, but the inscrutable Mohammedans shook their heads andhastened toward the gates. Despair reigned in the château; tears andlamentations were no more effective than blasphemy. The major-domo,suave and deferential, gravely informed Mr. Britt that they were leavingat the instigation of their legal adviser, who had but that hour issuedhis instructions.

"I hope you are not forgetting what I said about the American gunboats,"said Britt ponderously.

"Ah," said Baillo, with a cunning smile, "our man is also a greatAmerican. He can command the gunboats, too, sahib. We have told him thatyou have the great power. He shows us that he can call upon the Englishships as well, for he comes last from London. He can have both, whileyou have only one. Besides, he says you cannot send a message in theair, without the wire, unless he give permission. He have a littlemachine that catch all the lightning in the air and hold it till hereads the message. Our man is a great man—next to Mohammed."

Britt passed his hand over his brow, staggered by these statements.Gnawing at his stubby mustache, he was compelled to stand by helplessly,while they crowded through the gates like a pack of hounds at the callof the master. The deserters were gone; the deserted stood staring afterthem with wonder in their eyes. Suddenly Britt laughed and clappedDeppingham on the back.

"Say, he's smoother than I thought. Most men would have been damnedfools enough to say that it was all poppy-co*ck about me sending wirelessmessages and calling out navies; but not he! And that machine fortapping the air! Say, we'd better go slow with that fellow. If you sayso, I'll call him up and tell him we'll agree to his little oldconference. What say to that, Browne? And you, Deppy? Think we—"

"See here," roared Deppingham, red as a lobster, "I won't have youcalling me Deppy, confound your—"

"I'll take it all back, my lord. Slip of the tongue. Please overlook it.But, say, shall I call him up on the 'phone and head off the strike?"

"Anything, Mr. Britt, to get back our servants," said Lady Deppingham,who had come up with Mrs. Browne.

"I was just beginning to learn their names and to understand theirEnglish," lamented Mrs. Browne.

When Britt reappeared after a brief stay in the telephone booth he wasperspiring freely, and his face was redder, if possible, than everbefore.

"What did he say?" demanded Mrs. Browne, consumed by curiosity. Brittfanned himself for a moment before answering.

"He was very peremptory at first and very agreeable in the end, Mrs.Browne. I said we'd come down at four-thirty. He asked me to bring somecigarettes. Say, he's a strenuous chap. He wouldn't haggle for asecond."

Britt and Saunders found the Enemy waiting for them under the awning infront of the bank. He was sitting in a long canvas lounging chair, hisfeet stretched out, his hands clasped behind his head. There was afar-away, discontented look in his eyes. A native was fanning himindustriously from behind. There was no uncertainty in their judgment ofhim; he looked a man from the top of his head to the tips of his canvasshoes.

Every line of his long body indicated power, vitality, health. His lean,masterful face, with its clear grey eyes (the suspicion of a sardonicsmile in their depths), struck them at once as that of a man who couldand would do things in the very teeth of the dogs of war.

He arose quickly as they came under the awning. A frank, even joyous,smile now lighted his face, a smile that meant more than either of themcould have suspected. It was the smile of one who had almost forgottenwhat it meant to have the companionship of his fellow-man. Both men weresurprised by the eager, sincere manner in which he greeted them. Heclasped their hands in a grip that belied his terse, uncompromisingmanner at the telephone; his eyes were not those of the domineeringindividual whom conjecture had appraised so vividly a short time before.

"Glad to see you, gentlemen," he said. He was a head taller than either,coatless and hatless, a lean but brawny figure in white crash trousers.His shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, displaying hard, sinewyforearms, browned by the sun and wind. "It's very good of you to comedown. I'm sure we won't have to call out the British or Americangunboats to preserve order in our midst. I know something a great dealbetter than gunboats. If you'll come to my shack down the street, I'llmix you a real American co*cktail, a mint julep, a brandy smash oranything you like in season. There's a fine mint bed up my way, justback of the bungalow. It's more precious than a ruby mine, let me tellyou. And yet, I'll exchange three hundred carats of mint, Mr. Britt, fora dozen boxes of your Egyptian deities."

Then as they sauntered off into a narrow side street: "Do you know,gentlemen, I made the greatest mistake of my life in failing to bring aton of these little white sticks out with me? I thought of Gordon gin,both kinds of vermouth, brandy, and all that sort of thing, andcompletely forgot the staff of life. I happened to know that you have amillion packages of them, more or less, up at the château. My spies toldme. I daresay you know that I have spies up there all the time? Don'tpay any attention to them. You're at liberty to set spies on my trail atany time. Here we are. This is the headquarters for the Mine-owners'Association of Japat."

He led them down a flight of steps and into a long, cool-looking roomsome distance below the level of the street. Narrow windows near theceiling let in the light of day and yet kept out much of the oppressiveheat. A huge ice chest stood at one end of the room. At the other endwas his desk; a couch, two chairs, and a small deal table were the onlyother articles of furniture. The floor was covered with rugs; the wallswere hung with ancient weapons of offence and defence.

"The Mine-owners' Association, gentlemen, comprises the entirepopulation of Japat. Here is where I receive my clients; here is wherethey receive their daily loaf, if you will pardon the simile. I sit inthe chairs; they squat on the rugs. We talk about rubies and sapphiresas if they were peanuts. Occasionally we talk about our neighbours.Shall I make three mint juleps? Here, Selim! The ice, the mint and thestraws—and the bottles. Sit down, gentlemen. This is the American barthat Baedeker tells you about—the one you've searched all over Europefor, I daresay."

"Reminds me of home, just a little bit," said Britt, as the tall glasseswere set before them. The Englishman was still clothed in reticence. Hisslim, pinched body seemed more drawn up than ever before; the part inhis thatch of straw-coloured hair was as straight and undeviating as ifit had been laid by rule; his eyes were set and uncompromising. Mr.Saunders was determined that the two Americans should not draw him intoa trap; after what he had seen of their methods, and their amazingsimilarity of operation, he was quite prepared to suspect collusion."They shan't catch me napping," was the sober reflection of ThomasSaunders.

The Enemy planted the mint in its bed of chipped ice. "The sagacity thatTaswell Skaggs displayed in erecting an ice plant and cold storage househere is equalled only by John Wyckholme's foresightedness in maintaininga contemporaneous mint bed. I imagine that you, gentlemen, are hoping toprove the old codgers insane. Between the three of us, and man to man,how can you have the heart to propose anything so unkind when we look,as we now do, upon the result of their extreme soundness of mind? Here'show?"

Selim passed the straws and the three men took a long and simultaneous"pull" at the refreshing julep. Mr. Saunders felt something melt as hedrew the subsequent long and satisfying breath. It was the outer rim ofhis cautious reserve.

"I think we'll take you up on that proposition to trade mint forcigarettes," said Mr. Britt. "Mr. Browne, my client, for one, willsanction the deal. How about your client, Saunders?"

Saunders raised his eyes, but did not at once reply, for the verysignificant reason that he had just begun a second "pull" at his straw.

"I can't say as to Lady Deppingham," he responded, after touching hislips three or four times with his handkerchief, "but I'm quite sure hislordship will make no objection."

"Then we'll consider the deal closed. I'll send one of my boys overto-morrow with a bunch of mint. Telephone up to the bungalow when youneed more. By the way," dropping into a curiously reflective air, "may Iask why Lady Deppingham is permitted to ride alone through theunfrequented and perilous parts of the island?" The question wasdirected to her solicitor, who stared hard for a moment before replying.

"Perilous? What do you mean?"

"Just this, Mr. Saunders," said the Enemy, leaning forward earnestly."I'm not responsible for the acts of these islanders. You'll admit thatthere is some justification in their contention that the island and itstreasures may be snatched away from them, by some hook or crook. Well,there are men among them who would not hesitate to dispose of one orboth of the heirs if they could do it without danger to their interests.What could be more simple, Mr. Saunders, than the death of LadyDeppingham if her horse should stumble and precipitate her to the bottomof one of those deep ravines? She wouldn't be alive to tell how itreally happened and there would be no other witnesses. She's much tooyoung and beautiful to come to that sort of an end."

"My word!" was all that Saunders could say, forgetting his julep incontemplation of the catastrophe.

"He's right," said Britt promptly. "I'll keep my own client on thestraight and public path. He's liable to tip over, too."

"Deuce take your Browne," said Saunders with mild asperity. "He neverrides alone."

"I've noticed that," said the Enemy coolly. "He's usually with LadyDeppingham. It's lucky that Japat is free from gossips, gentlemen."

"Oh, I say," said Saunders, "none of that talk, you know."

"Don't lose your temper, Saunders," remonstrated Britt. "Browne's worthtwo of Deppingham."

"Gentlemen," said the Enemy, "please remember that we are not to discussthe habits of our clients. To change the subject, Britt, that was a—Oh,Selim, please step over to the bank and ask what time it is." As Selimdeparted, the Enemy remarked: "It won't do for him to hear too much. AsI was saying, that was a clever bluff of yours—I mean the gunboatgoblin. I have enlarged upon your story somewhat. You-----"

"Yes," said Britt, "you've added quite a bit to it."

"It's a sort of two-story affair now, don't you know," said Saunders,feeling the effect of the drink. They all laughed heartily, two, atleast, in some surprise. Saunders never let an opportunity escape torepeat the joke to his friends in after life; in fact, he made theopportunity more often than not.

"There's another thing I want to speak of," said the Enemy, arising toprepare the second round of juleps. "I hope you won't take mysuggestions amiss. They're intended for the peace and security of theisland, nothing else. Of course, I could sit back and say nothing,thereby letting your clients cut off their own noses, but it's hardlyfair among white people. Besides, it can have nothing to do with thelegal side of the situation. Well, here it is: I hear that your clientsand their partners for life are in the habit of gambling like fury upthere."

"Gambling?" said Britt. "What rot!"

"The servants say that they play Bridge every night for vast piles ofrubies, and turn the wheel daily for sapphires uncountable. Oh, I get itstraight."

"Why, man, it's all a joke. They use gun wads and simply play that theyare rubies."

"My word," said Saunders, "there isn't a ruby or sapphire in the party."

"That's all right," said the Enemy, standing before them with a bunch ofmint in one hand and the bowl of ice in the other. They could not butsee that his face was serious. "We know it's all right, but the servantsdon't. How do they know that the stakes are not what they're said to be?It may be a joke, but the people think you are playing for real stones,using gun wads as they've seen poker chips used. I've heard that as muchas £50,000 in precious gems change hands in a night. Well, the situationis obvious. Every man in Japat thinks that your people are gambling withjewels that belong to the corporation. They think there's somethingcrooked, d'ye see? My advice to you is: Stop that sort of joking. It'snot a joke to the islanders, as you may find out to your sorrow. Takethe tip from me, gentlemen. Let 'em play for pins or peppermint drops,but not for rubies red. Here's your julep, Mr. Saunders. Fresh straw?"

"By Jove," said Saunders, taking a straw, and at the same time staringin open-mouthed wonder at the tall host; "you appal me! It's mostextraordinary. But I see your point clearly, quite clearly. Do you,Britt?"

"Certainly," said Britt with a look of disdain. "I told 'em to lower thelimit long ago."

"This is all offered in a kindly spirit, you understand," said themagnanimous Enemy. "We might as well live comfortably as to dieunseasonably here. Another little suggestion, Mr. Saunders. Please tellLord Deppingham that if he persists in snooping about the ravines insearch of rubies, he'll get an unmanageable bullet in the back of hishead some day soon. He's being watched all the time. The natives resenthis actions, foolish as they may seem to us. This is not child's play.He has no right to a single ruby, even if he should see one and knowwhat it was. Just tell him that, please, Mr. Saunders."

"I shall, confound him," exploded Saunders, smiting the table mightily."He's too damned uppish anyhow. He needs taking down—"

"Ah, Selim," interrupted the Enemy, as the native boy entered, "no mail,eh?"

"No, excellency, the ship is not due to arrive for two weeks."

"Ah, but, Selim, you forget that I am expecting a letter from VonBlitz's wives. They promised to let me know how soon he is able toresume work at the mines."

"I hear you polished him off neatly," said Britt, with a grin.

"Just the rough edges, Mr. Britt. He is now a gem of purest ray serene.By the way, I hope you'll not take my mild suggestions amiss."

"There's nothing I object to except your power to call strikes among ourservants. That seems to me to be rather high-handed," said Brittgood-naturedly.

"No doubt you're right," agreed the other, "but you must remember that Ineeded the cigarettes."

"My word!" muttered Saunders admiringly.

"Look here, old man," said Britt, his cheeks glowing, "it's mighty goodof you to take this trouble for----"

"Don't mention it. I'd only ask in return that we three be a little moresociable hereafter. We're not here to cut each other's throats, youknow, and we've got a deadly half year ahead of us. What say?"

For answer the two lawyers arose and shook hands with the excellentEnemy. When they started for the château at seven o'clock, each with sixmint juleps about his person, they were too mellow for analysis. TheEnemy, who had drunk but little, took an arm of each and piloted themsturdily through the town.

"I'd walk up to the château if I were you," he said, when they clamouredfor a jinriksha apiece. "It will help pass away the time."

"By Jove," said Saunders, hunting for the Enemy's hand. "I'm going to'nform L-Lord Deppingham that he's 'nsufferable ass an'—an' I don'tcare who knows it."

"Saunders," said Britt, with rare dignity, "take your hand out of mypocket."

CHAPTER XI

THE SLOUGH OF TRANQUILLITY

Three months stole by with tantalising slowness. How the strangers onthe island of Japat employed those dull, simmering, idle weeks it wouldnot be difficult to relate. There was little or no incident to break themonotony of their enforced residence among the surly Japatites; the sameroutine obtained from day to day. Sultry, changeless, machine-like werethose hundred days and nights. They looked forward with hopeful, tiredeyes; never backward. There was nothing behind them but a dour waste, abog through which they had driven themselves with a lash of resolution.

Autumn passed on into winter without a change of expression in thebenign face of nature. Christmas day was as hot as if it had come inmidsummer; the natives were as naked, the trees as fully clad. Thecurious sun closed his great eye for a few hours in the twenty-four; theremainder of the time he glared down upon his victims with a malevolencethat knew no bounds. Soft, sweet winds came with the typhoon season,else the poor whites must have shrivelled and died while naturerevelled. Rain fell often in fitful little bursts of joyousness, but thehungry earth sipped its moisture through a million greedy lips, eager tothwart the mischievous sun. Through it all, the château gleamed red andpurple and gray against the green mountainside, baked where the suncould meet its face, cool where the caverns blew upon it with theirrich, damp breath.

The six months were passing away, however, in spite of themselves; tenweeks were left before the worn, but determined heirs could cast offtheir bonds and rush away to other climes. It mattered little whetherthey went away rich or poor; they were to go! Go! That was the richestthing the future held out to them—more precious than the wealth forwhich they stayed. Whatever was being done for them in London andBoston, it was no recompense for the weariness of heart and soul thatthey had found in the green island of Japat.

True, they rode and played and swam and romped without restraint, butbeneath all of their abandon there lurked the ever-present pathos of thejail, the asylum, the detention ward. The blue sky seemed streaked withthe bars of their prison; the green earth clanked as with the sombretread of feet crossing flagstones.

Not until the end of January was there a sign of revolt against theever-growing, insidious condition of melancholy. As they turned into thelast third of their exile, they found heart to rejoice in the thoughtthat release was coming nearer and nearer. The end of March! Eight weeksoff! Soon there would be but seven weeks—then six!

And, all this time, the islanders toiled as they had toiled for years;they reckoned in years, while the strangers cast up Time's account inweeks and called them years. Each day the brown men worked in the mines,piling gems into the vaults with a resoluteness that never faltered.They were the sons of Martha. The rubies of Mandalay and Mogok wererivalled by the takings of these indifferent stockholders in the greatJapat corporation. Nothing short of a ruby as large as the Tibet gemcould have startled them out of their state of taciturnity. Gemsweighing ten and fifteen carats already had been taken from the "byon"in the wash, and yet inspired no exaltation. Sapphires, nestling in thesoft ground near their carmine sisters, were rolling into the coffers ofthe company, but they were treated as so many pebbles in this ceaselesssearch.

The tiniest child knew that the ruby would not lose its colour by fire,while the blue of the sapphire would vanish forever if subjected toheat. All these things and many more the white strangers learned; theywere surfeited with a knowledge that tired and bored them.

From London came disquieting news for all sides to the controversy. Thestruggle promised to be drawn out for years, perhaps; the executorswould probably be compelled to turn over the affairs of the corporationto agents of the Crown; in the meantime a battle royal, long drawn out,would undoubtedly be fought for the vast unentailed estate left behindby the two legators.

The lonely legatees, marooned in the far South Sea, began to realisethat even after they had spent their six months of probation, they wouldstill have months, even years, of waiting before they could touch thefortune they laid claim to. The islanders also were vaguely awake to thefact that everything might be tied up for years, despite the provisionsof the will; a restless, stubborn feeling of alarm spread among them.This feeling gradually developed itself into bitter resentment; hatredfor the people who were causing this delay was growing deeper andfiercer with each succeeding day of toil.

Their counsellor, the complacent Enemy, was in no sense immune to theblandishments of the climate. His tremendous vitality waned; he slowlydrifted into the current with his fellows, although not beside them. Forsome unaccountable reason, he held himself aloof from the men and womenthat his charges were fighting. He met the two lawyers often, butnothing passed between them that could have been regarded as theslightest breach of trust. He lived like a rajah in his shady bungalow,surrounded by the luxuries of one to whom all things are broughtindivisible. If he had any longing for the society of women of his ownrace and kind, he carefully concealed it; his indifference to the subtlethough unmistakable appeals of the two gentlewomen in the château wasirritating in the extreme. When he deliberately, though politely,declined their invitation to tea one afternoon, their humiliation knewno bounds. They had, after weeks of procrastination, surrendered to theinevitable. It was when they could no longer stand out against thecommon enemy—Tranquillity! Lord Deppingham and Bobby Browne suffered insilence; they even looked longingly toward the bungalow for the reliefthat it contained and refused to extend.

Lady Deppingham and Mrs. Browne should not be misunderstood by thereader. They loved their husbands—I am quite sure of that; but theywere tired of seeing no one else, tired of talking to no one else.Moreover, in support of this one-sided assertion, they experienced fromtime to time the most melancholy attacks of jealousy. The drag of timehung so heavily upon them that any struggle to cast it off wasimmediately noticeable. If Mrs. Browne, in plain despair, went off for aday's ride with Lord Deppingham, that gentleman's wife was sick withjealousy. If Lady Agnes strolled in the moonlit gardens with Mr. Browne,the former Miss Bate of Boston could scarcely control her emotions. Theyshed many tears of anguish over the faithlessness of husbands; tears ofhatred over the viciousness of temptresses. Their quarrels were fierce,their upbraidings characteristic, but in the end they cried and kissedand "made up"; they actually found some joy in creating these littlefeuds and certainly there was great exhilaration in ending them.

They did not know, of course, that the wily Britt, despite his owndepression, was all the while accumulating the most astounding lot ofevidence to show that a decided streak of insanity existed in the twoheirs. He won Saunders over to his way of thinking, and that faithfulagent unconsciously found himself constantly on the watch for "signs,"jotting them down in his memorandum book. Britt was firm in his purposeto make them out as "mad as March hares" if needs be; he slyly pattedhis typewritten "manifestations" and said that it would be easy sailing,so far as he was concerned. One choice bit of evidence he secured in amost canny manner. He was present when Miss Pelham, at the bank, was"taking" a dictation for the Enemy—some matter pertaining to the outputof the mines. Lady Deppingham had just been guilty of a most astoundingpiece of foolhardiness, and he was discussing it with the Enemy. She hadforced her horse to leap across a narrow fissure in the volcano the daybefore. Falling, she would have gone to her death three hundred feetbelow.

"She must be an out and out lunatic," the Enemy had said. Britt lookedquickly at Miss Pelham and Mr. Bowles. The former took down thestatement in shorthand and Bowles was afterward required to sign "hisdeposition." Such a statement as that, coming from the source it did,would be of inestimable value in Court.

"If they could only be married in some way," was Britt's private lamentto Saunders, from time to time, when despair overcame confidence.

"I've got a ripping idea," Saunders said one day.

"Let's have it. You've always got 'em. Why not divide with me?"

"Can't do it just yet. I've been looking up a little matter. I'll springit soon."

"How long have you been working on the idea?"

"Nearly four months," said Saunders, yawning.

"'Gad, this climate is enervating," was Britt's caustic comment.

Saunders was heels over head in love with Miss Pelham at this time, soit is not surprising that he had some sort of an idea about marriage, nomatter whom it concerned.

Night after night, the Deppinghams and Brownes gave dinners, balls,musicales, "Bridges," masques and theatre suppers at the château. Firstone would invite the other to a great ball, then the other would respondby giving a sumptuous dinner. Their dinners were served with as muchpunctiliousness as if the lordliest guests were present; their dancingparties, while somewhat barren of guests, were never dull for longerthan ten minutes after they opened. Each lady danced twice and thenpleaded a headache. Whereupon the "function" came to a close.

For a while, the two hostesses were not in a position to ask any oneoutside their immediate families to these functions, but one day Mrs.Browne was seized by an inspiration. She announced that she was going tosend regular invitations to all of her friends at home.

"Regular written invitations, with five-cent stamps, my dear," sheexplained enthusiastically. "Just like this: 'Mrs. Robert Brownerequests the pleasure of Miss So-and-so's company at dinner on the 17thof Whatever-it-is. Please reply by return steamer.' Won't it be fun?Bobby, please send down to the bank for the stamps. I'm going to makeout a list."

After that it was no unusual thing to see large packages of carefullystamped envelopes going to sea in the ships that came for the mail.

"And I'd like so much to meet these native Americans that you areasking," said Lady Agnes sweetly, and without malice. "I've alwayswondered if the first families over there show any trace of theirwonderful, picturesque Indian blood."

"Our first families came from England, Lady Deppingham," said Drusilla,biting her lips.

"Indeed? From what part of England?" Of course, that query killed everychance for a sensible discussion.

One morning during the first week in February, the steamer from Adenbrought stacks of mail—the customary newspapers, magazines, novels,telegrams and letters. It was noticed that her ladyship had severalhundred letters, many bearing crests or coats-of-arms.

At last, she came to a letter of many pages, covered with a scrawl thatlooked preposterously fashionable.

"Nouveau riche," thought Drusilla Browne, looking up from her ownletters. Lady Agnes gave a sudden shriek, and, leaping to her feet,performed a dance that set her husband and Bobby Browne to gasping.

"She's coming!" she cried ecstatically, repeating herself a dozen times.

"Who's coming, Aggie?" roared her husband for the sixth time.

"She!"

"She may be a steamship for all I know, if—"

"The Princess! Deppy, I'm going to squeeze you! I must squeeze somebody!Isn't it glorious? Now—now! Now life will be worth living in thisbeastly place."

Her dearest friend, the Princess, had written to say that she was comingto spend a month with her. Her dear schoolmate of the old days inParis—her chum of the dear Sacred Heart Convent when it flourished inthe Boulevard des Invalides—her roommate up to the day when thatinstitution was forced to leave Paris for less unfriendly fields!

"In her uncle's yacht, Deppy—the big one that came to Cowes last year,don't you know? Of course, you do. Don't look so dazed. He's cruisingfor a couple of months and is to set her down here until the yachtreturns from Borneo and the Philippines. She says she hopes it will bequiet here! Quiet! She hopes it will be quiet! Where are thecigarettes, Deppy? Quick! I must do something devilish. Yes, I know Iswore off last week, but—please let me take 'em." The four of themsmoked in wondrous silence for two or three minutes. Then Browne spokeup, as if coming from a dream:

"I say, Deppingham, you can take her out walking and pick up a crownfulof fresh rubies every day or so."

"Hang it all, Browne, I'm afraid to pluck a violet these days. Everytime I stoop over I feel that somebody's going to take a shot at me. Iwonder why the beggars select me to shoot at. They're not always poppingaway at you, Browne. Why is it? I'm not looking for rubies every time Istoop over. They shot at me the other day when I got down to pick up mycrop."

"It's all right so long as they don't kill you," was Browne's consolingremark.

"By Jove!" said Deppingham, starting up with a look of horror in hiseyes, sudden comprehension rushing down upon him. "I wonder if theythink I am you, Browne! Horrible!"

CHAPTER XII

WOMEN AND WOMEN

The Enemy's office hours were from three to five in the afternoon. Itwas of no especial consequence to his clients that he frequentlytransferred the placard from the front of the company's bank to the morealluring doorway of the "American bar;" all was just and fair so long ashe was to be found where the placard listed. Twice a week, Miss Pelhamcame down from the château in a gaily bedecked jinriksha to sit oppositeto him in his stuffy corner of the banking house, his desk between them,her notebook trembling with propinquity. Mr. Britt generously loaned thepert lady to the Enemy in exchange for what he catalogued as "happydays."

Miss Pelham made it a point to look as fascinating as possible on theoccasion of these interesting trips into the Enemy's territory.

The Enemy, doing his duty by his clients with a determination thatseemed incontestable, suffered in the end because of his veryzealousness. He took no time to analyse the personal side of his work;he dealt with the situation from the aspect of a man who serves but oneinterest, forgetting that it involved the weal of a thousand units. Forthat reason, he was the last to realise that an intrigue was shapingitself to combat his endeavours. Von Blitz, openly his friend and ally,despite their sad encounter, was the thorn which pricked the nativesinto a state of uneasiness and doubt as to their agent's sincerity.

Von Blitz, cunning and methodical, sowed the seed of distrust; itsprouted at will in the minds of the uncouth, suspicious islanders. Theybegan to believe that no good could come out of the daily meetings ofthe three lawyers. A thousand little things cropped out to prove thatthe intimacy between their man and the shrewd lawyers for the oppositionwas inimical to their best interests.

It was Von Blitz who told the leading men of the island that theirwives—the Persians, the Circassians, the Egyptians and the Turkishhouris—were in love with the tall stranger. It was he who advised themto observe the actions, to study the moods of their women.

If he spoke to one of the women, beautiful or plain, the whole malepopulation knew of it, and smiled derisively upon the husband. Von Blitzhad turned an adder loose among these men; it stung swiftly and returnedto sting again.

The German knew the condition of affairs in his own household. Hisoverthrow at the hands of the American had cost him more than physicalignominy; his wives openly expressed an admiration for their champion.

He knew too well the voluptuous nature of these creamy, unloved women,who had come down to the island of Japat in exchange for the baublesthat found their way into the crowns of Persian potentates. He knew toowell that they despised the men who called them wives, even though fearheld them constantly in bond. Rebuffed, unnoticed, scorned, the womenthemselves began to suspect and hate each other. If he spoke kindly toone of them, be she fair and young or old and plain, the eyes of all theothers blazed with jealousy. Every eye in Japat was upon him; every handwas turning against him.

It was Miss Pelham who finally took it upon herself to warn the lonelyAmerican. The look of surprise and disgust that came into his facebrought her up sharply. She had been "taking" reports at his dictation;it was during an intermission of idleness on his part that she broachedthe subject.

"Miss Pelham," he said coldly, "will you be kind enough to carry mycondolences to the ladies at court, and say that I recommend reading asan antidote for the poison which idleness produces. I've no doubt thatthey, with all the perspicacity of lonely and honest women, imagine thatI maintain a harem as well as a bar-room. Kindly set them right aboutit. Neither my home nor my bar-room is open to ladies. If you don't mindwe'll go on with this report."

Miss Pelham flushed and looked very uncomfortable. She had more to say,and yet hesitated about bearding the lion. He noticed the pain anduncertainty in her erstwhile coquettish eyes, and was sorry.

"I beg your pardon," he said gently.

"You're wrong about Lady Deppingham and Mrs. Browne," she beganhurriedly. "They've never said anything mean about you. It was just mymiserable way of putting it. The talk comes from the islanders. Mr.Bowles has told Mr. Britt and Mr. Saunders. He thinks Von Blitz isworking against you, and he is sure that all of the men are furiouslyjealous."

"My dear Miss Pelham, you are very good to warn me," said he easily. "Ihave nothing to fear. The men are quite friendly and—" He stoppedabruptly, his eyes narrowing in thought. A moment later he arose andwalked to the little window overlooking the square. When he turned toher again his face wore a more serious expression. "Perhaps there issomething in what you say. I'm grateful to you for preparing me." It hadsuddenly come to mind that the night before he had seen a man skulkingin the vicinity of the bungalow. His body servant, Selim, had told himthat very morning that this same man, a native, had stood for hoursamong the trees, apparently watching the house.

"I just thought I'd tell you," murmured Miss Pelham nervously, "I—wedon't want to see you get into trouble—none of us."

"Thank you," After a long pause, he went on, lowering his voice: "MissPelham, I have had a hard time here, in more ways than I care to speakof. It may interest you to know that I had decided to resign next monthand go home. I'm a living man, and a living man objects to a livingdeath. It's worse than I had thought, I came out here in the hope thatthere would be excitement, life, interest. The only excitement I get iswhen the ships call twice a month. I've even prayed that our beastly oldvolcano might erupt and do all sorts of horrible things. It might, atleast, toss old Mr. Skaggs back into our midst; that would be a relief,even if he came up as a chunk of lava. But nothing happens—nothing!These Persian fairies you talk about—bah! I said I'd decided to resign,to get out of the infernal place. But I've changed my mind. I'll stickmy time out. I've got three months longer to stay and I'll stay. If VonBlitz thinks he can drive me out, he's mistaken. I'll be here after youand your friends up there have sailed away, Miss Pelham—God bless you,you're all white!—and I'll be here when Von Blitz and his wives aredancing to the tunes I play. Now let's get back to work."

"All right; but please be careful," she urged. "Don't let them catch youunprepared. If you need help, I know the men at the château will come atyour call."

One of those bright, enveloping smiles swept over his face—the smilethat always carried the little stenographer away with it. A merrychuckle escaped his lips. "Thanks, but you forget that I can call outthe American and British navies."

She looked doubtful. "I know," she said, "but I'm afraid Von Blitz isscuttling your ships."

"If poor little Bowles can conquer them with a red jacket that's toosmall for him, to say nothing of the fit it would give to the Britisharmy, I think I can scrape up a garment or two that will startle them inanother way. Please don't worry about me. I shall call my clientstogether and have it out with them. If Von Blitz is working in the dark,I'll compel him to show his hand. And, Miss Pelham," he concluded veryslowly, "I'll promise to use a club, if necessary, to drive the Persianladies away. So please rest easy on my account."

Poor little Miss Pelham left him soon afterward, her head and heartringing with the consciousness that she had at last driven him out ofhis customary reserve. Mr. Saunders was pacing the street in theneighbourhood of the bank. He had been waiting an hour or more, and hewas green with jealousy. She nodded sweetly to him and called him to theside of her conveyance. "Don't you want to walk beside me?" she asked.And he trotted beside her like a faithful dog, all the way to thedistant château.

The next morning the town bustled with a new excitement. A trim,beautiful yacht, flying strange colours, steamed into the little harbourof Aratat.

She came to anchor much closer in than ships usually ventured, and anofficer put off in the small boat, heading for the pier, which wasalready crowded with the native women and children. Every one knew thatthe yacht brought the Princess who was to visit her ladyship; nothingelse had been talked of among the women since the word first came downfrom the château that she was expected.

The Enemy came down from his bungalow, attracted by the unusual andinspiring spectacle of a ship at anchor. A line of anxiety marked hisbrow. Two figures had watched his windows all night long, sinistershadows that always met his eye when it penetrated the gloom of themoonlit forest.

Lord and Lady Deppingham were on the pier before him. Excitement and joyillumined her face; her eyes were sparkling with anticipation; he couldalmost see that she trembled in her eagerness. He came quite close tothem before they saw him. Exhilaration no doubt was responsible for thevery agreeable smile of recognition that she bestowed upon him. Or,perhaps it was inspired by womanly pity for the man whose loneliness waseven greater and graver than her own. The Enemy could do no less than goto them with his pleasantest acknowledgment. His rugged face relaxedinto a most charming, winsome smile, half-diffident, half-assured.

He passed among the wives of his clients without so much as a sign ofrecognition, coolly indifferent to the admiring glances that sought hisface. The dark, langourous eyes that flashed eager admiration a momentbefore now turned sullen with disappointment. He had ignored theirowners; he had avoided them as if they were dust heaps in the path; hehad spurned them as if they were dogs by the roadside. And yet he smiledupon the Englishwoman, he spoke with her, he admired her! The sharpintake of breath that swept through the crowd told plainer than wordsthe story of the angry eyes that followed him to the end of the pier,where the officer's boat was landing.

"I have heard that you expect a visitor," said the Enemy in his mostagreeable manner. Lady Deppingham had just told him that she had afriend aboard the yacht.

"Won't you go aboard with us," asked Deppingham, at a loss for anythingbetter to say. The Enemy shook his head and smiled.

"You are very good, but I believe my place is here," he said, with aswift, sardonic glance toward his herd of followers. Lady Deppinghamraised her delicate eyebrows and gave him the cool, intimate smile ofcomprehension. He flushed. "I am one of the lowly and the despised," heexplained humbly.

"The Princess is to be with me for a month. We expect more sunshine thanever at the château," ventured her ladyship.

"I sincerely hope you may be disappointed," said he commiseratingly,fanning himself with his hat. She laughed and understood, but Deppinghamwas half way out to the yacht before it became clear to him that theEnemy hoped literally, not figuratively.

The Enemy sauntered back toward the town, past and through the staringcrowd of women. Here and there in the curious throng the face of aPersian or an Egyptian stared at him from among the brown Arabians.There was no sign of love in the glittering eyes of these traffickedwomen of Japat. One by one they lifted their veils to their eyes andslowly faded into the side streets, each seeking the home she despised,each filled with a hatred for the man who would not feast upon herbeauty.

The man, all unconscious of the new force that was to oppose him fromthat hour, saw the English people go aboard. He waited until the owner'slaunch was ready to return to the pier with its merry company, and thenslowly wended his way to the "American bar," lonelier than ever beforein his life. He now knew what it was that he had missed more than allelse—Woman!

Britt and Saunders were waiting for him under the awning outside. Theywere never permitted to enter, except by the order or invitation of theEnemy. Selim stood guard and Selim loved the tall American, who could beand was kind to him.

"Hello," called Britt. "We saw you down there, but couldn't get near. Byginger, old man, I had no idea your Persians were so beautiful. They areOriental gems of—"

"My Persians? What the devil do you mean, Britt? Come in and sit down; Iwant to talk to you fellows. See here, this talk about these women hasgot to be stopped. It's dangerous for you and it's dangerous for me. Itis so full of peril that I don't care to look at them, handsome as yousay they are. Do you know what I was thinking of as I came over here,after leaving one of the most charming of women?—your Lady Deppingham.I was thinking what a wretched famine there is in women. I'm speaking ofwomen like Lady Deppingham and Mrs. Browne—neither of whom I know andyet I've known them all my life. The kind of women we love—not the kindwe despise or pity. Don't you see? I'm hungry for the very sight of awoman."

"You see Miss Pelham often enough," said Saunders surlily. The Enemy wasmaking a pitcher of lemonade.

"My dear Saunders, you are quite right. I do see Miss Pelham oftenenough. In my present frame of mind I'd fall desperately in love withher if I saw her oftener." Saunders blinked and glared at him throughhis pale eyes.

"My word," he said. Then he got up abruptly and stalked out of the room.Britt laughed immoderately.

"He's a lucky dog," reflected the Enemy. "You see, he loves her,Britt—he loves little Miss Pelham. Do you know what that means? Itmeans everything is worth while. Hello! Here he is back! Come in,Saunders. Here's your lemo!"

Saunders was excited. He stopped in the doorway, but looked over hisshoulder into the street.

"Come along," he exclaimed. "They're going up to the château—thePrincess and her party. My word, she's ripping!" He was off again,followed more leisurely by the two Americans.

At the corner they stopped to await the procession of palanquins andjinrikshas, which had started from the pier. The smart English victoriafrom the château, drawn by Wyckholme's thoroughbreds, was coming on inadvance of the foot brigade. Half a dozen officers from the yacht, asmany men in civilian flannels, and a small army of servants were beingborne in the palanquins. In the rear seat of the victoria sat LadyDeppingham and one who evidently was the Princess. Opposite to them sattwo older but no less smart-looking women.

Britt and the Enemy moved over to the open space in front of the mosque.They stood at the edge of and apart from the crowd of curious Moslems,who had moved up in advance of the procession.

"A gala day in Aratat," observed the stubby Mr. Britt. "We are to havethe whole party over night up at the château. Perhaps the advent ofstrangers may heal the new breach between Mrs. Browne and LadyDeppingham. They haven't been on speaking terms since day beforeyesterday. Did Miss Pelham tell you about it? Well, it seems that Mrs.Browne thinks that Lady Agnes is carrying on a flirtation withBrowne—Hello! By thunder, old man, she's—she's speaking to you!" Heturned in astonishment to look at his companion's face.

The Enemy was staring, transfixed, at the young woman in white who satbeside Lady Deppingham. He seemed paralysed for the moment. Then hishelmet came off with a rush; a dazed smile of recognition lighted hisface. The very pretty young woman in the wide hat was leaning forwardand smiling at him, a startled, uncertain look in her eyes. LadyDeppingham was glancing open-mouthed from one to the other. The Enemystood there in the sun, bareheaded, dazed, unbelieving, while thecarriage whirled past and up the street. Both women turned to look backat him as they rounded the corner into the avenue; both were smiling.

"I must be dreaming," murmured the Enemy.

Britt took him by the arm. "Do you know her?" he asked. The Enemy turnedupon him with a radiant gleam in his once sombre disconsolate eyes.

"Do you think I'd be grinning at her like a damned fool if I didn't? Whythe dickens didn't you tell me that it was the Princess Genevra ofRapp-Thorberg who was coming?"

"Never thought of it. I didn't know you were interested in princesses,Chase."

CHAPTER XIII

CHASE PERFORMS A MIRACLE

Hollingsworth Chase now felt that he was on neutral ground with thePrincess Genevra. He could hardly credit his senses. When he leftRapp-Thorberg in disgrace some months before, his susceptibilities werein a most thoroughly chastened condition; a cat might look at a king,but he had forsworn peeping into the secret affairs of princesses.

His strange connection with the Skaggs will case is easily explained.After leaving Thorberg he went directly to Paris; thence, after tendays, to London, where he hoped to get on as a staff correspondent forone of the big dailies. One day at the Savage Club, he listened to arecital of the amazing conditions which attended the execution ofSkaggs's will. He had shot wild game in South Africa with Sir JohnBrodney, chief counsellor for the islanders, and, as luck would have it,was to lunch with him on the following day at the Savoy.

His soul hungered for excitement, novelty. The next day, when Sir Johnsuddenly proposed that he go out to Japat as the firm's representative,he leaped at the chance. There would be no difficulty about certainlittle irregularities, such as his nationality and the fact that he wasnot a member of the London bar: Sir John stood sponsor for him, and theislanders would take him on faith.

In truth, Rasula was more than glad to have the services of an American.He had heard Wyckholme talk of the manner in which civil causes wereconducted and tried in the United States, and he felt that one Yankee onthe scene was worth ten Englishmen at home. Doubtless he got hisimpressions of the genus Englishman by observation of the devotedBowles.

The good-looking Mr. Chase, writhing under the dread of exposure as aninternational jackass, welcomed the opportunity to get as far away fromcivilisation as possible. He knew that the Prince Karl story would notlie dormant. It would be just as well for him if he were where the lashof ridicule could not reach him, for he was thin-skinned.

We know how and when he came to the island and we have renewed our shortacquaintance with him under peculiar circ*mstances. It would be sadlyremiss, however, to suppress the information that he could not banishthe fair face of the Princess Genevra from his thoughts during the longvoyage; nor would it be stretching the point to say that his day dreamswere of her as he sat and smoked in his bungalow porch.

Before Chase left London, Sir John Brodney bluntly cautioned him againstthe dangers that lurked in Lady Deppingham's eyes.

"She won't leave you a peg to stand on, Chase, if you seek anencounter," he said. "She's pretty and she's clever, and she's madefools of better men than you, my boy. I don't say she's a bad lot,because she's too smart for that. But I will say that a dozen men are inlove with her to-day. I suppose you'll say that she can't help that. I'monly warning you on the presumption that they don't seem to be able tohelp it, either. Remember, my boy, you are going out there to offset,not to beset, Lady Deppingham."

Chase learned more of the attractive Lady Agnes and her court before heleft England. Common report credited her with being dangerously pretty,scandalously unwise, eminently virtuous, distractingly adventurous inthe search for pleasure, charmingly unscrupulous in her treatment ofmen's hearts, but withal, sufficiently clever to dodge the consequencesof her widespread though gentle iniquities. He was quite prepared toadmire her, and yet equally resolved to avoid her. Something told himthat he was not of the age and valor of St. Anthony. He went out toJapat with a stern resolution to lead himself not into temptation; tosteer clear of the highway of roses and stick close to the thorny pathsbelow. Besides, he felt that he deserved some sort of punishment forlooking so high in the Duchy of Rapp-Thorberg.

Not that he was in love with the proud Princess Genevra; he denied thatto himself a hundred times a day as he sat in his bungalow and smokedthe situation over.

He had proved to himself, quite beyond a doubt, that he was not in love,when, like a bolt from a clear sky, she stepped out of the oblivion intowhich he had cast her, to smile upon him without warning. It was mostunfair. Her smile had been one of the most difficult obstacles toovercome in the effort to return a fair and final verdict.

As he sat in the shade of his bungalow porch on the afternoon of herarrival, he lamented that every argument he had presented in the causeof common sense had been knocked into a co*cked hat by that electricsmile. Could anything be more miraculous than that she should come tothe unheard-of island of Japat—unless, possibly, that he should bethere when she came? She was there for him to look upon and love andlose, just as he had dreamed all these months. It mattered little thatshe was now the wife of Prince Karl of Brabetz; to him she was still thePrincess Genevra of Rapp-Thorberg.

If he had ever hoped that she might be more to him than an unattainabledivinity, he was not fool enough to imagine that such a hope could berealised. She was a princess royal, he the slave who stood afar off andworshipped beyond the barrier of her disdain. In his leather pocketbooklay the ever-present reminder that she could be no more than a dream tohim. It was the clipping from a Paris newspaper, announcing that thePrincess Genevra was to wed Prince Karl during the Christmas holidays.

He had seen the Christmas holidays come and go with the certainknowledge in his heart that they had given her to Brabetz as the mostglorious present that man had ever received. If he was tormented by thisthought at the happiest season of the year, his crustiness wasattributed by others to the loneliness of his life on the island. If hegrew leaner and more morose, no one knew that it was due to the passingof a woman.

Now she was come to the island and, so far as he had been able to see,there was no sign of the Prince of Brabetz in attendance. The absence ofthe little musician set Chase to thinking, then to speculating and, inthe end, to rejoicing. Her uncle by marriage, an English nobleman ofhigh degree, in gathering his friends for the long cruise, evidently hadleft the Prince out of his party, for what reason Chase could notimagine. To say that the omission was gratifying to the tall Americanwould be too simple a statement. There is no telling to what heights histhoughts might have carried him on that sultry afternoon if they had notbeen harshly checked by the arrival of a messenger from the château. Hisblood leaped with anticipation. Selim brought word that the messengerwas waiting to deliver a note. The Enemy, who shall be called by histrue name hereafter, steadied himself and commanded that the man bebrought forthwith.

Could it be possible—but no! She would not be writing to him. What aridiculous thought! Lady Deppingham? Ah, there was the solution! She wasacting as the go-between, she was the intermediary! She and the Princesshad put their cunning heads together—but, alas! His hopes fell flat asthe note was put into his eager hand. It was from Britt.

Still he broke the seal with considerable eagerness. As he perused thesomewhat lengthy message, his disappointment gave way to a no uncertainform of excitement; with its conclusion, he was on his feet, his eyesgleaming with enthusiasm.

"By George!" he exclaimed. "What luck! Things are coming my way with avengeance. I'll do it this very night, thanks to Britt. And I must notforget Browne. Ah, what a consolation it is to know that there areAmericans wherever one goes. Selim! Selim!" He was standing as straightas a corporal and his eyes were glistening with the fire of battle whenSelim came up and forgot to salute, so great was his wonder at thetransformation. "Get word to the men that I want every mother's son of'em to attend a meeting in the market-place to-night at nine. Veryimportant, tell 'em. Tell Von Blitz that he's got to be there. I'mgoing to show him and my picturesque friend, Rasula, that I am here tostay. And, Selim, tell that messenger to wait. There's an answer."

Long before nine o'clock the men of Japat began to gather in the marketand trading place. It was evident that they expected and were preparedfor the crisis. Von Blitz and Rasula, who had played second fiddle untilhe could stand it no longer, were surprised and somewhat staggered bythe peremptory tone of the call, but could see no chance for theAmerican to shift his troublesome burden. The subdued, sullen air of themen who filled the torchlighted market-place brooded ill for any attemptChase might make to reconcile them to his peculiar views, no matter howthoroughly they may have been misunderstood by the people. Explanationswere easy to make, but difficult to establish. Chase could convincethem, no doubt, that he was not guilty of double dealing, but it wouldbe next to impossible to extinguish the blaze of jealousy that wasconsuming the reason of the head men of Japat, skilfully fed by thetortured Von Blitz and blown upon ceaselessly by the breath of scandal.

Five hundred dark, sinister men were gathered in knots about the square.They talked in subdued tones and looked from fiery eyes that beliedtheir outward calm.

Hollingsworth Chase, attended by Selim, came down from his mountainretreat. He heard the sibilant hiss of the scorned Persians as he passedamong them on the outskirts of the crowd; he observed the threateningattitude of the men who waited and watched; he saw the white, ugly faceof Von Blitz quivering with triumph; he felt the breath of disaster uponhis cheek. And yet he walked among them without fear, his head erect,his eyes defiant. He knew that a crisis had come, but he smiled as hewalked up to meet it, with a confidence that was sublime.

The market-place was a large open tract in the extreme west end of thetown, some distance removed from the business street and the pier. Ontwo sides were the tents of the fruit peddlers and the vegetablehucksters, negroes who came in from the country with their produce. Theother sides were taken up by the fabric and gewgaw venders, while in thecentre stood the platforms from which the auctioneers offered treasuresfrom the Occident. Through a break in the foothills, the château wasplainly discernible, the sea being obscured from view by the denseforest that crowned the cliffs.

Chase made his way boldly to the nearest platform, exchanging bows withthe surprised Von Blitz and the saturnine Rasula, who stood quite near.The men of Japat slowly drew close in as he mounted the platform, Thegleaming eyes that shone in the light of the torches did not create anyvisible sign of uneasiness in the American, even though down in hisheart he trembled. He knew the double chance he was to take. From wherehe stood looking out over those bronze faces, he could pick out thescowling husbands who hated him because their wives hated them. He couldsee Ben Ali, the master of two beauties from Teheran and the handsomedancing girl from Cairo; there was Amriph, who basked erstwhile in thesunshine of a bargain from Damascus and a seraph from Bagdad, but whonow groped about in the blackness of their contempt; and others, all ofwhom felt in their bitter hearts that their misery was due to theprowess of this gallant figure.

Afar off stood the group of women who had inspired this hatred anddistrust. Behind them, despised and uncountenanced by the Orientalelect, were crowded the native women, who, down in their hearts, loathedthe usurpers. It was Chase's hope that the husbands of these simplewomen would ultimately stand at his side in the fight for supremacy—andthey were vastly in the majority. If he could convince these men thathis dealings with them were honest, Von Blitz could "go hang."

He faced the crowd, knowing that all there were against him. "VonBlitz!" he called suddenly. The German started and stepped backinvoluntarily, as if he had been reprimanded.

"I've called this meeting in order to give you a chance to say to myface some of the things you are saying behind my back. Thank God, all ofyou men understand English. I want you to hear what Von Blitz has to sayin public, and then I want you to hear what I say to him. Incidentally,you may have something to say for yourselves. In the first place, I wantyou all to understand just how I stand in respect to my duties as yourlegal representative. Von Blitz and Rasula and others, I hear, haveundertaken to discredit my motives as the agent of your London advisers.Let me say, right here, that the man who says that I have played youfalse in the slightest degree, is a liar—a damned liar, if you preferit that way. You have been told that I am selling you out to the lawyersfor the opposition. That is lie number one. You have been led to believethat I make false reports to your London solicitors. Lie number two. Youhave been poisoned with the story that I covet certain women in thistown—too numerous to mention, I believe. That is lie number three. Theyare all beautiful, my friends, but I wouldn't have one of 'em as a gift.

"For the past few nights my home has been watched. I want to announce toyou that if I see anybody hanging around the bungalow after to-day, I'mgoing to put a bullet through him, just as I would through a dog. Pleasebear that in mind. Now, to come down to Von Blitz. You can't drive meout of this island, old man. You have lied about me ever since I beatyou up that night. You are sacrificing the best interests of thesepeople in order to gratify a personal spite, in order to wreak apersonal vengeance. Stop! You can talk when I have finished. You haveset spies upon my track. You have told these husbands that their wivesneed watching. You have turned them against me and against their wives,who are as pure and virtuous as the snow which you never see. (God,forgive me!) All this, my friend, in order to get even with me. I don'task you to retract anything you've said. I only intend you to know thatI can crush you as I would a peanut, if you know what that is. You----"

Von Blitz, foaming with rage, broke in: "I suppose you vill call out derwarships! We are not fools! You can fool some of----"

"Now, see here, Von Blitz, I'll show whether I can call out a warshipwhenever I need one. I have never intended to ask naval help except incase of an attack by our enemies up at the château. You can't believethat I seek to turn those big guns against my own clients—the clients Icame out here to serve with my life's blood if necessary. But, hear me,you Dutch lobster! I can have a British man-of-war here in ten hours totake you off this island and hang you from a yard arm on the charge ofconspiracy against the Crown."

Von Blitz and Rasula laughed scornfully and turned to the crowd. Thelatter began to harangue his fellows. "This man is a—a—" he began.

"A bluff!" prompted Von Blitz, glaring at his tall accuser.

"A bluff," went on Rasula. "He can do none of these things. Nor can theAmericans at the château. I know that they are liars. They—"

"I'll make you pay for that, Rasula. Your time is short. Men of Japat, Idon't want to serve you unless you trust me—"

A dozen voices cried: "We don't trust you!" "Dog of a Christian! Son ofa snake!" Von Blitz glowed with satisfaction.

"One moment, please! Rasula knows that I came out here to represent SirJohn Brodney. He knows how I am regarded in London. He is jealousbecause I have not listened to his chatter. I am not responsible for theprobable delay in settling the estate. If you are not very careful, youwill ruin every hope for success that you may have had in the beginning.The Crown will take it out of your hands. You've got to show yourselvesworthy of handling the affairs of this company. You can't do it if youlisten to such carrion as Von Blitz and Rasula. Oh, I'm not afraid ofyou! I know that you have written to Sir John, Rasula, asking that I berecalled. He won't recall me, rest assured, unless he throws up thecase. I have his own letters to prove that he is satisfied with my workout here. I am satisfied that there are enough fair-minded men in thiscrowd to protect me. They will stand by me in the end. I call upon—"

But a howl of dissent from the throng brought him up sharply. His facewent white and for a moment he feared the malevolence that stared at himfrom all sides. He looked frequently in the direction of the distantchâteau. An anxious gleam came into his eyes—was it of despair? Ahundred men were shouting, but no one seemed to have the courage tobreak over the line that he had drawn. Knives slipped from many sashes;Von Blitz was screaming with insane laughter, pointing his finger at thediscredited American. While they shouted and cursed, his gaze never leftthe cleft in the hills. He did not attempt to cry them down; the effortwould have been in vain. Suddenly a wild, happy light came into hisanxious, searching eyes. He gave a mighty shout and raised his hands,commanding silence.

Selim, clinging to his side, also had seen the sky-rocket which arose upfrom the château and dropped almost instantly into the wall of trees.

There was something in the face and voice of the American that quelledthe riotous disorder.

"You fools!" he shouted, "take warning! I have told you that I would notturn the guns of England and America against you unless you turnedagainst me. I am your friend—but, by the great Mohammed you'll pay formy life with every one of your own if you resort to violence. Listen!To-day I learned that my life was threatened. I sent a message in theair to the nearest battleship. There is not an hour in the day or nightthat I or the people in the château cannot call upon our governments forhelp. My call to-day has been answered, as I knew it would be. There isalways a warship near at hand, my friends. It is for you to say whethera storm of shot and shell—"

Von Blitz leaped upon a platform and shouted madly: "Fools! Don'tbelieve him! He cannot bring der ships here! He lies—he lies! He—"

At that moment, a shrill clamour of voices arose in the distance—thecries of women and children. Chase's heart gave a great bound of joy. Heknew what it meant. The crowd turned to learn the cause of this suddendisturbance. Across the square, coming from the town, raced the womenand children, gesticulating wildly and screaming with excitement.

Chase pointed his finger at Von Blitz and shouted:

"I can't, eh? There's a British warship standing off the harbour now,and her guns are trained—"

But he did not complete the astounding, stupefying sentence. The womenwere screaming:

"The warship! The warship! Fly! Fly!"

In a second, the entire assemblage was racing furiously, doubtingly, yetfearfully toward the pier. Von Blitz and Rasula shouted in vain. Theywere left with Chase, who smiled triumphantly upon their ghastly faces.

"Gentlemen, they are not deceived. There is a warship out there. Youcame near to showing your hand to-night. Now come along with me, andI'll show my hand to you. Rasula, you'd better draw in your claws.You're entitled to some consideration. But Von Blitz! Jacob, you arestanding on very thin ice. I can have you shot to-morrow morning."

Von Blitz sputtered and snarled. "It is all a lie! It is a trick!" Hewould have drawn his revolver had not Rasula grasped his arm. The nativelawyer dragged him off toward the pier, half-doubting his own senses.

Just outside the harbour, plainly distinguishable in the moonlight, laya great cruiser, her searchlights whipping the sky and sea with longwhite lashes.

The gaping, awe-struck crowd in the street parted to let Chase passthrough on his way to the bungalow. He was riding one of Wyckholme'sthoroughbreds, a fiery, beautiful grey. His manner was that of amedieval conqueror. He looked neither to right nor to left, but kept hiseyes straight ahead, ignoring the islanders as completely as if they didnot exist.

"It's more like a Christian Endeavour meeting than it was ten minutesago," he was saying to himself, all the time wondering when somereckless unbeliever would hurl a knife at his back. He gravely winkedhis eye in the direction of the château. "Good old Britt!" he mutteredin his exultation.

CHAPTER XIV

THE LANTERN ABOVE

Chase sat for hours on his porch that night, gazing down upon thechâteau. Lights gleamed in a hundred of its windows. He knew thatrevelry held forth in what he was pleased enough to call the feudalcastle, and yet his heart warmed toward the gay people who danced andsang while he thirsted at the gates.

The bitterness of his own isolation, the ostracism that circ*mstance hadforced upon him, would have been maddening on this night had not allrancour been tempered by the glorious achievement in the market-place.He wondered if the Princess knew what he had dared and what he hadaccomplished in the early hours of the night. He wondered if they hadpointed out his solitary light to her—if, now and then, she bestowed acasual glance upon that twinkling star of his. The porch lantern hungalmost directly above his head.

He was not fool enough to think that he had permanently pulled the woolover the eyes of the islanders. Sooner or later they would come to knowthat he had tricked them, and then—well, he could only shake his headin dubious contemplation of the hundred things that might happen. Hesmiled as he smoked, however, for he looked down upon a world thatthought only of the night at hand.

The château was indeed the home of revelry. The pent-up, strugglingspirits of those who had dwelt therein for months in solitude arose inthe wild stampede for freedom. All petty differences between LadyDeppingham and Drusilla Browne, and they were quite common now, wereforgotten in the whirlwind of relief that came with the strangers fromthe yacht. Mrs. Browne's good-looking eager husband revelled in theprospect of this delirious night—this almost Arabian night. He wasswept off his feet by the radiant Princess—the Scheherezade of hisboyhood dreams; his blithe heart thumped as it had not done since he wasa boy. The duch*ess of N---- and the handsome Marchioness of B---- cameinto his tired, hungry life at a moment when it most needed the light.It was he who fairly dragged Lady Agnes aside and proposed the banquet,the dance, the concert—everything—and it was he who carried out thehundred spasmodic instructions that she gave.

Late in the night, long after the dinner and the dance, the tired buthappy company flocked to the picturesque hanging garden for rest and thelast refreshment. Every man was in his ducks or flannels, every woman inthe coolest, the daintiest, the sweetest of frocks. The night was clearand hot; the drinks were cold.

The hanging garden was a wonderfully constructed open-air plaisancesuspended between the château itself and the great cliff in whose shadowit stood. The cliff towered at least three hundred feet above the roofof the spreading château, a veritable stone wall that extended for amile or more in either direction. Its crest was covered with treesbeyond which, in all its splendour, rose the grass-covered mountainpeak. Here and there, along the face of this rocky palisade, tinystreams of water leaked through and came down in a never-ending spray,leaving the rocks cool and slimy from its touch.

Near the château there was a real waterfall, reminding one in no smallsense of the misty veils at Lauterbrunnen or Giesbach. The swift streamwhich obtained life from these falls, big and little, ran along the baseof the cliff for some distance and was then diverted by means of a deep,artificial channel into an almost complete circuit of the château,forming the moat. It sped along at the foot of the upper terrace, a widetorrent that washed between solid walls of masonry which rose to aheight of not less than ten feet on either side. There were twodrawbridges—seldom used but always practicable. One, a handsome exampleof bridge building, crossed the current at the terminus of the grandapproach which led up from the park; the other opened the way to thestables and the servants' quarters at the rear. A small, stationarybridge crossed the vicious stream immediately below the hanging gardenand led to the ladders by which one ascended to the caverns that ran farback into the mountain.

Two big, black, irregular holes in the face of the cliff marked theentrance to these deep, rambling caves, wonderful caverns wrought by theconvulsions of the dead volcano, cracks made by these splinteringearthquakes when the island was new.

The garden hung high between the building and the cliff, swung by ascore of great steel cables. These cables were riveted soundly in thesolid rock of the cliff at one end and fastened as safely to the stonewalls of the château at the other. It swung staunchly from its moorings,with the constancy of a suspension bridge, and trembled at the slightesttouch.

It was at least a hundred feet square. The floor was covered with a footor more of soil in which the rich grass and plants of the tropicsflourished. There were tiny flower beds in the center; baby palms,patchouli plants and a maze of interlacing vines marked the edges ofthis wonderful garden in mid-air. Cool fountains sprayed the air ateither end of the green enclosure: the illusion was complete.

The walls surrounding the garden were three feet high and were intendedto represent the typical English garden wall of brick. To gain access tothe hanging garden, one crossed a narrow bridge, which led from thesecond balcony of the château. There was not an hour in the day whenprotection from the sun could not be found in this little paradise.

Bobby Browne was holding forth, with his usual exuberance, on themagnificence of the British navy. The Marquess of B----, uncle to thePrincess, swelled with pride as he sat at the table and tasted his julepthrough the ever-obliging straw. The Princess, fanning herself wearily,leaned back and looked up into the mystic night, the touch of dreamlandcaressing her softly. The others—eight or ten men and half as manywomen—listened to the American in twice as many moods.

"There she is now, sleeping out there in the harbour, a great, big thingwith the kindest of hearts inside of those steel ribs. Her Majesty'sship, the King's Own! Think of it! She convoys a private yacht; shestops off at this beastly island to catch her breath and to see that allare safe; then she charges off into the horizon like a bird that has nohome. Ah, I tell you, it's wonderful. Samrat, fill the Count's glassagain. May I offer you a cigarette, Princess? By the way, I wonder howChase came off with his side show?"

"Saunders tells me that he was near to being butchered, but luck waswith him," said Deppingham. "His ship came home."

"It was a daring trick. I'm glad he pulled it off. He's a man, thatfellow is," said Browne. "See, Princess, away up there in the mountainis his home. There's a light—see it? He keeps rather late hours, yousee."

"Tell me about him," said the Princess suddenly. She arose and walked tothe vine-covered wall, followed by Bobby Browne.

"I don't know much to tell you," said he. "He's made an enemy or two andthey are trying to drive him out. I'd be rather sorry to see him go.We've asked him down here, just because we can't bear to think of afellow-creature wasting his days in utter loneliness. But he has, sofar, declined with thanks. The islanders are beginning to hate him. Theydistrust him, Britt says. Of course, you know why we are here, you—"

"Every one knows, Mr. Browne. You are the most interesting quartette inthe world just now. Every one is wondering how it is going to end. Whata pity you can't marry Lady Agnes."

"Oh, I say!" protested Browne. She laughed merrily.

"But how dull it must be for Mr. Chase! Does he complain?"

"I can't say that he does. Britt—that's my lawyer—Britt says he'snever heard a murmur from him. He takes his medicine with a smile. Ilike that sort of a fellow and I wish he'd be a little more friendly. Itcouldn't interfere with his duties and I don't see where the harm wouldcome in for any of us."

"He has learned to know and keep his place," said she coolly. Perhapsshe was thinking of his last night in the palace garden. Away up therein the darkness gleamed his single, lonely, pathetic little light."Isn't it rather odd, Mr. Browne, that his light should be burning attwo o'clock in the morning? Is it his custom to sit up—"

"I've never noticed it before, now you speak of it. I hope nothingserious has happened to him. He may have been injured in—I say, if youdon't mind, I'll ask some one to telephone up to his place. It would bebeastly to let him lie up there alone if we can be of any service to—"

"Yes, do telephone," she broke in. "I am sure Lady Deppingham willapprove. No, thank you; I will stand here a while. It is cool and I lovethe stars." He hurried off to the telephone, more eager than ever, nowthat she had started the new thought in his brain. Five minutes later hereturned to her, accompanied by Lady Agnes. She was still lookingat—the stars? The little light among the trees could easily have beenmistaken for a star.

"Lady Deppingham called him up," said Bobby.

"And he answered in person," said her ladyship. "He seemed strangelyagitated for a moment or two, Genevra, and then he laughed—yes, laughedin my face, although it was such a long way off. People can do what theylike over the telephone, my dear. I asked him if he was ill, or had beenhurt. He said he never felt better in his life and hadn't a scratch. Helaughed—I suppose to show me that he was all right. Then he said he wasmuch obliged to me for calling him up. He'd quite forgotten to go tobed. He asked me to thank you for bringing a warship. You saved hislife. Really, one would think you were quite a heroine—or a Godsend orsomething like that. I never heard anything sweeter than the way he saidgood-night to me. There!"

The light in the bungalow bobbed mysteriously for an instant and thenwent out.

"How far is it from here?" asked the Princess abruptly.

"Nearly two miles as the crow flies—only there are no crows here. Fivemiles by the road, I fancy, isn't it, Bobby? I call him Bobby, you know,when we are all on good terms. I don't see why I shouldn't if you stopto think how near to being married to each other we are at this veryinstant."

"I wonder if help could reach him quickly in the event of an attack?"

"It could, if he'd have the kindness to notify us by 'phone," saidBrowne.

"But he wouldn't telephone to us," said Lady Deppingham ruefully. "He'snot so communicative as that."

"Surely he would call upon you for help if he----"

"You don't know him, Genevra."

The Princess smiled in a vague sort of way. "I've met him quiteinformally, if you remember."

"I should say it was informally. It's the most delicious story I've everheard. You must tell it to Mr. Browne, dear. It's all about the Enemy inThorberg, Mr. Browne. There's your wife calling, Bobby. She wants you totell that story again, about the bishop who rang the door bell."

The next morning the captain of the King's Own came ashore and wastaken to the château for dejeuner. Late in the afternoon, the Marquessand his party, saying farewell to the Princess and the revived legatees,put out to the yacht and steamed away in the wake of the great warship.The yacht was to return in a month, to pick up the Princess.

Genevra, her maids, her men and her boxes, her poodle and her dachshund,were left behind for the month of March. Not without misgiving, it mustbe said, for the Marquess, her uncle, was not disposed to look upon theisland situation as a spot of long-continued peace, even though itshereditary companion, Prosperity, might reign steadily. But she refusedto listen to their warnings. She smiled securely and said she had cometo visit Lady Agnes and she would not now disappoint her for the world.All this, and much more, passed between them.

"You won't be able to get help as cleverly and as timely as thatAmerican chap got it last night," protested the Marquess. "Warshipsdon't browse around like gulls, you know. Karl will never forgive me ifI leave you here----"

"Karl is of a very forgiving nature, uncle, dear," said Genevra sweetly."He forgave you for defending Mr. Chase, because you are such a niceEnglishman. I've induced him to forgive Mr. Chase because he's such anice American-—although Mr. Chase doesn't seem to know it-—and I'm quitesure Karl would shake his hand if he should come upon him anywhere.Leave Karl to me, uncle."

"And leave you to the cannibals, or whatever they are. I can't think ofit! It's out of the—"

"Take him away, Aunt Gretchen. 'And come again some other day,'" shesang blithely.

And so they sailed away without her, just as she had intended from thebeginning. Lord Deppingham stood beside her on the pier as the shoreparty waved its adieus to the yacht.

"By Jove, Genevra, I hope no harm comes to you here in this beastlyplace," said he, a look of anxiety in his honest eyes. "There goes oursalvation, if any rumpus should come up. We can't call 'em out of thesky as Chase did last night. Lucky beggar! That fellow Chase is ripping,by Jove. That's what he is. I wish he'd open up his heart a bit and askus into that devilish American bar of his."

"He owes us something for the warship we delivered to him last night,"said Bobby. "He has made good with his warship story, after all, thanksto the King's Own and Britt."

"And the fairy Princess," added Lady Deppingham.

"I am doubly glad I came, if you include me in the miracle," saidGenevra, shuddering a little as she looked at the lounging natives."Isn't it rather more of a miracle that I should come upon mine ancientchampion in this unheard-of corner of the globe?"

"I'd like to hear the story of Chase and his Adventures in the Queen'sGarden," reminded Bobby Browne.

"I'll tell it to you to-night, my children," said the Princess, as theystarted for the palanquins.

Hollingsworth Chase dodged into the American bar just in time to escapethe charge of spying.

CHAPTER XV

MR. SAUNDERS HAS A PLAN

Miss Pelham's affair with Thomas Saunders by this time had reached thestage where observers feel a hesitancy about twitting the parties mostconcerned. Even Britt, the bravest jester of them all, succumbed to theprevailing wind when he saw how it blew. He got in the lee of popularopinion and reefed the sails of the good ship Tantalus.

"Let true love take its course," he remarked to Bobby Browne one day,after they had hearkened to Deppingham's furious complaint that hecouldn't find Saunders when he wanted him if he happened to be wantedsimultaneously by Miss Pelham. "Miss Pelham is a fine girl. Your wifelikes her and looks after her. She's a clever girl, much cleverer thanSaunders would be if he were a girl. She's found out that he earns athousand a year and that his mother is a very old woman. That showsforesight. She says she's just crazy about London, although she doesn'tknow where Hammersmith is. That shows discretion. She's anxious to seethe boats at Putney and talks like an encyclopaedia about Kew Gardens.That shows diplomacy. You see, Saunders lives in Hammersmith, not farfrom the bridge, all alone with his mother, who owns the house andgarden. It's all very appealing to Miss Pelham, who has got devilishtired of seeing the universe from a nineteenth story in Broadway. Iheard her tell Saunders that she keeps a couple of geranium pots on thewindow sill near which she sits all day. She says she's keen aboutgarden flowers. Looks serious to me."

"She's a very nice girl," agreed Bobby Browne.

"A very saucy one," added Deppingham, who had come a severe cropper inhis single attempt to interest her in a mild flirtation.

"She's off with Saunders now," went on Britt. "That's why you can't findhim, my lord. If you really want him, however, I think you can reach himby strolling through the lower end of the park and shouting. Forheaven's sake, don't fail to shout."

"I do want him, confound him. I want to ask him how many days thereare left before our time is up on the island. Demmed annoying, that Ican't have legal advice when I—"

"How many days have you been here?"

"How the devil should I know? That's what we've got Saunders here for.He's supposed to tell us when to go home, and all that sort of thing,you know."

"It isn't going to be so bad, now that the Princess has come to cheer usup a bit," put in Bobby Browne. "Life has a new aspect."

"I say, Browne," burst out Deppingham, irrelevantly, his eyeglassclenched in the tight grasp of a perplexed frown, "would you mindtelling me that story about the bishop and the door bell again?"

Britt laughed hoarsely, his chubby figure shivering with emotion."You've heard that story ten times, to my certain knowledge,Deppingham."

His lordship glared at him. "See here, Britt, you'll oblige me by—"

"Very well," interrupted Britt readily. "I forget once in a while."

"The trouble with you Americans is this," growled Deppingham, turning toBrowne and speaking as if Britt was not in existence: "you have nodividing line. 'Gad, you wouldn't catch Saunders sticking his nose inwhere he wasn't wanted. He's—"

"I was under the impression that you wanted him," interrupted Britt,most good-naturedly, his stubby legs far apart, his hands in hispockets.

"I say, Browne, would you mind coming into my room? I want to hear thatstory, but I'm hanged if I'll listen to it out here."

The oft-told story of the bishop and the bell, of course, has no bearingupon the affairs of Miss Pelham and Thomas Saunders. And, for thatmatter, the small affairs of that worthy couple have little or nobearing upon the chief issue involved in this tale. Nobody cares a rapwhether Saunders, middle-aged and unheroic bachelor, with his preciselittle "burnsides," won the heart of the pert Miss Pelham, precise incharacter if not always so in type. It is of no serious consequence thatshe kept him from calling her Minnie until the psychological moment, andit really doesn't matter that Thomas was days in advancing to themoment. It is only necessary to break in upon them occasionally for thepurpose of securing legal advice, or the equally unromantic desire tohave a bit of typewriting done. We are not alone in this heartless anduncharitable obtrusion. Deppingham, phlegmatic soul, was foreverdisturbing Saunders with calls to duty, although Saunders was brutishenough, in his British way, to maintain (in confidence, of course) thathe was in the employ of Lady Deppingham, or no one at all. Nevertheless,he always lived under the shadow of duty. At any moment, his lordshipwas liable to send for him to ask the time of day—or some equallyimportant question. And this brings us to the hour when Saundersunfolded his startling solution to the problem that confronted them all.

First, he confided in Britt, soberly, sagely and in perfect good faith.Britt was bowled over. He stared at Saunders and gasped. Nearly twominutes elapsed before he could find words to reply; which provesconclusively that it must have been something of a shock to him. When atlast he did express himself, however, there was nothing that could havebeen left unsaid—absolutely nothing. He went so far as to call Saundersa doddering fool and a great many other things that Saunders had not inthe least expected.

The Englishman was stubborn. They had it back and forth, from legal andother points of view, and finally Britt gave in to his colleague,reserving the right to laugh when it was all over. Saunders, with adetermination that surprised even himself, called for a conference ofall parties in Wyckholme's study, at four o'clock.

It was nearly six before Lady Deppingham arrived, although she had butforty steps to traverse. Mr. and Mrs. Browne were there fully half anhour earlier. Deppingham appeared at four and then went away. He wasdiscovered asleep in the hanging garden, however, and at once joined theothers. Miss Pelham was present with her note book. The Princess wasinvited by Lady Deppingham, who held no secrets from her, but the royalyoung lady preferred to go out walking with her dogs. Pong, the redco*cker, attended the session and twice snarled at Mr. Saunders, for noother reason than that it is a dog's prerogative to snarl when and atwhom he chooses.

"Now, what's it all about, Saunders?" demanded Deppingham, with a wideyawn. Saunders looked hurt.

"It is high time we were discussing some way out of our difficulties,"he said. "Under ordinary circ*mstances, my lady, I should not havecalled into joint consultation those whom I may be pardoned fordesignating as our hereditary foes. Especially Mr. Browne. But, as myplan to overcome the obstacle which has always stood in our way requiresthe co-operation of Mr. Browne, I felt safe in asking him to be present.Mrs. Browne's conjugal interest is also worthy of consideration." Mrs.Browne sniffed perceptibly and stared at the speaker. "But five weeksremain before our stay is over. We all know, by this time, that there islittle or no likelihood of the estate being closed on schedule time. Ithink it is clear, from the advices we have, that the estate will betied up in the courts for some time to come, possibly a year or two.From authoritative sources, we learn that the will is to be broken. Theapparent impossibility of marriage between Lady Deppingham and Mr.Browne naturally throws our joint cause into jeopardy. There would be nocontroversy, of course, if the terms of the will could be carried out inthat respect. The islanders understand our position and seem secure intheir rights. They imagine that they have us beaten on the face ofthings. Consequently they are jolly well upset by the news that we areto contest the will in the home courts. They are, from what I hear andobserve, pretty thoroughly angered. Now, the thing for us to do is toget married."

He came to this conclusion with startling abruptness. Four of hishearers stared at him in blank amazement.

"Get married?" murmured first one, then another.

"Are you crazy?" demanded Browne. Britt was grinning broadly.

"Certainly not!" snapped Saunders.

"Oh, by Jove!" exclaimed Deppingham, relieved. "I see. You mean youcontemplate getting married. I congratulate you. You gave me quite ashock, Saund—"

"I don't mean anything of the sort, my lord," said Saunders getting veryred in the face. Miss Pelham looked up from her note book quickly. Hewinked at her, and her ladyship saw him do it. "I mean that it is hightime that Lady Deppingham and Mr. Browne were getting married. Wehaven't much time to spare. It—"

"Good Lord!" gasped Bobby Browne. "You are crazy, after all."

"Open the window and give some air," said Britt coolly.

"See here, Saunders, what the devil is the matter with you?" roaredDeppingham.

"My lord, I am here to act as your legal adviser," said Saunders withdignity. "May I be permitted to proceed?"

"Rather queer legal advice, 'pon my word."

"Please let him explain," put in Mrs. Browne, whose sense of humour wasstrongly attracted by this time. "If there is anything more to belearned concerning matrimony, I'd like to know it."

"Yes, Mr. Saunders, you may proceed," said Lady Agnes, passing a handover her bewildered eyes.

"Thank you, my lady. Well, here it is in a nutshell: I have not spokenof it before, but you and Mr. Browne can very easily comply with theprovisions of the will. You can be married at any time. Now, I—"

"And where do I come in?" demanded Deppingham, sarcastically.

"Yes, and I?" added Mrs. Browne. "You forget us, Mr. Saunders."

"I include Mrs. Browne," amended Deppingham. "Are we to be assassinated?By Jove, clever idea of yours, Saunders. Simplifies matterstremendously."

"I hear no objection from the heirs," remarked Saunders, meaningly.Whereupon Lady Agnes and Bobby came out of their stupor and protestedvigorously.

"Miss Pelham," said Britt, breaking in sharply, "I trust you are gettingall of this down. I wish to warn you, ladies and gentlemen, that Iexpect to overthrow the will on the ground that there is insanity onboth sides. You'll oblige me by uttering just what you feel."

"Why, this is perfectly ridiculous," cried Lady Agnes. "Our souls arenot our own."

"Your minds are the only things I am interested in," said Britt calmly.

"My plan is very simple—" began Saunders helplessly.

"Demmed simple," growled Deppingham.

"We are living on an island where polygamy is practised and tolerated.Why can't we take advantage of the custom and beat the natives at theirown game? That's the ticket!"

Of course, this proposition, simple as it sounded, brought forth a stormof laughter and expostulation, but Saunders held his ground. He listenedto a dozen jeering remarks in patient dignity, and then got the flooronce more.

"You have only to embrace Mohammedanism or Paganism, or whatever it is,temporarily. Just long enough to get married and comply with the terms.Then, I daresay, you could resume your Christian doctrine once more,after a few weeks, I'd say, and the case is won."

"I pay Lady Deppingham the compliment by saying that it would be mostdifficult for me to become a Christian again," said Browne smoothly,bowing to the flushed Englishwoman.

"How very sweet of you," she said, with a grimace which made Drusillashiver with annoyance.

"You don't need to live together, of course," floundered Saunders,getting rather beyond his depth.

"Well, that's a concession on your part," said Mrs. Browne, a flash inher eye.

"I never heard of such an asinine proposition," sputtered Deppingham.Saunders went completely under at that.

"On the other hand," he hastened to remark, "I'm sure it would be quitelegal if you did live to----"

"Stop him, for heaven's sake," screamed Lady Agnes, bursting intouncontrollable laughter.

"Stop him? Why?" demanded her husband, suddenly seeing what he regardedas a rare joke. "Let's hear him out. By Jove, there's more to it than Ithought. Go on, Saunders."

"Of course, if you are going to be nasty about it—" began Saunders in ahuff.

"I can't see anything nasty about it," said Browne. "I'll admit that ourwife and our husband may decide to be stubborn and unreasonable, but itsounds rather attractive to me."

"Robert!" from his wife.

"He's only joking, Mrs. Browne," explained Deppingham magnanimously."Now, let me understand you, Saunders. You say they can be marriedaccording to the customs—which, I take it, are the laws—of theislanders. Wouldn't they be remanded for bigamy sooner or later?"

"They don't bother the Mormons, do they, Mr. Browne?" asked Saunderstriumphantly. "Well, who is going to object among us?"

"I am!" exclaimed Deppingham. "Your plan provides Browne with twocharming wives and gives me but one. There's nothing to compel Mrs.Browne to marry me."

"But, my lord," said Saunders, "doesn't the plan give Lady Deppinghamtwo husbands? It's quite a fair division."

"It would make Lord Deppingham my husband-in-law, I imagine," saidDrusilla quaintly. "I've always had a horror of husbands-in-law."

"And you would be my wife-in-law," supplemented Lady Agnes. "Howinteresting!"

"Saunders," said Deppingham soberly, "I must oppose your plan. It'squite unfair to two innocent and uninvolved parties. What have we donethat we should be exempt from polygamy?"

"You are not exempt," exclaimed the harassed solicitor. "You are merelynot obliged to, that's all. You can do as you choose about it, I'msure. I'm sorry my plan causes so much levity. It is meant for the goodof our cause. The will doesn't say how many wives Mr. Browne shall have.It simply says that Agnes Ruthven shall be his wife. He isn'trestricted, you know. He can be a polygamist if he likes. I ask Mr.Britt if there is anything in the document which specifically says heshall not have more than one wife. Polygamy is quite legal in theUnited States, and he is an American citizen. I read about a Mormon chapmarrying a whole Sunday-school class not long ago."

"You're right," said Britt. "The will doesn't specify. But, my dearSaunders, you are overlooking your own client in this plan."

"I don't quite understand, Mr. Britt."

"As I understand the laws on this island—the church laws at least—aman can have as many wives as he likes. Well, that's all very well forMr. Browne. But isn't it also a fact that a woman can have no more thanone husband? Lady Deppingham has one husband. She can't take anotherwithout first getting rid of this one."

"And, I say, Saunders," added Deppingham, "the native way of disposingof husbands is rather trying, I've heard. Six or seven jabs with a longknife is the most approved way, isn't it, Britt?"

"Imagine Lady Deppingham going to the altar all covered with gore!" saidBritt.

"Saunders," said Deppingham, arising and lighting a fresh cigarette,"you have gone clean daft. You're loony with love. You've got marriageon the brain. I'd advise you to take some one for it,"

"Do you mean that for me. Lord Deppingham?" demanded Miss Pelhamsharply. She glared at him and then slammed her note book on the table."You can josh Mr. Saunders, but you can't josh me. I'm sick of this job.Get somebody else to do your work after this. I'm through."

"Oh!" exclaimed every one in a panic. It took nearly ten minutes topacify the ruffled stenographer. She finally resumed her place at thetable, but her chin was in the air and she turned the pages with avehemence that left nothing to the imagination.

"I can arrange everything, my lady, so that the ceremony will beregular," pleaded the unhappy Saunders. "You have only to go through theform—"

"But what kind of a form does she follow in stabbing me to mincemeat?That's the main law point," said Deppingham. "You seem to forget that Iam still alive."

"Perhaps we could arrange for a divorce all round," cried Saunders,suddenly inspired.

"On what grounds?" laughed Browne.

"Give me time," said the lawyer.

"It's barely possible that there is no divorce law in Japat," remarkedBritt, keenly enjoying his confrère's misery.

"Are you quite sure?"

"Reasonably. If there was such a law, I'll bet my head two-thirds of themen in Aratat would be getting rid of wives before night."

Britt, after this remark, sat very still and thoughtful. He was turningover the divorce idea in his mind. He had ridiculed the polygamy scheme,but the divorce proposition might be managed.

"I'm tired," said Lady Deppingham suddenly. She yawned and stretched herarms. "It's been very entertaining, Saunders, but, really, I think we'dbetter dress for dinner. Come, Mr. Browne, shall we look for thePrincess?"

"With pleasure, if you'll promise to spare Deppingham's life."

"On condition that you will spare Deppingham's wife," very prettily andairily. Mrs. Browne laughed with amazing good grace, but there was a newexpression in her eyes.

"Your ladyship," called Saunders desperately, "do you approve of myplan? It's only a subterfuge—"

"Heartily!" she exclaimed, with one of her rarest laughs. "The onlyobjection that I can see to it is that it leaves out my husband and Mrs.Browne. They are very nice people, Saunders, and you should be moreconsiderate of them. Come, Mr. Browne." She took the American's arm andgaily danced from the room. Lord Deppingham's eyes glowed with pride inhis charming wife as he followed with the heartsick Drusilla. Brittsauntered slowly out and down the stairway, glancing back but once atthe undone Saunders.

"I would have won them over if Britt had not interfered," almost wailedlittle Mr. Saunders, his eyes glazed with mortification.

"I'm getting to hate that man," said Miss Pelham loyally. "And theothers! They give me a pain! Don't mind them, Tommy, dear."

Lady Deppingham and Browne came upon the Princess quite unexpectedly.She was in the upper gallery, leaning against the stone rail and gazingsteadily through the field glasses in the direction of the bungalow.They held back and watched her, unseen. The soft light of early eveningfell upon her figure as she stood erect, lithe and sinuous in the openspace between the ivy-clad posts; her face and hands were soft tinted bythe glow from the reflecting east, her hair was like a bronze reliefa*gainst the dark green of the mountain. She was dressed in white—amodish gown of rich Irish lace. One instantly likened this rare youngcreature to a rare old painting.

Genevra smiled securely in her supposed aloofness from the world. Then,suddenly moved by a strange impulse, she gently waved her handkerchief,as if in greeting to some one far off in the gloaming. The action was amischievous one, no doubt, and it had its consequences—rather suddenand startling, if the observers were to judge by her subsequentmovements. She lowered the glass instantly; there was a quick catch inher breath—as if a laugh had been checked; confusion swept over her,and she drew back into the shadows as a guilty child might have done.They distinctly heard her murmur as she crossed the flags anddisappeared through the French window, without seeing them:

"Oh, dear, what a crazy thing to do!"

Genevra, peering through the glasses, had discovered the figure of Chaseon the bungalow porch. She was amused to find that he, from his distantpost, was also regarding the château through a pair of glasses. A spiritof adventure, risk, mischief, as uncontrolled as breath itself, impelledher to flaunt her handkerchief. That treacherous spirit deserted hermost shamelessly when her startled eyes saw that he was waving aresponse. She laid awake for a long time that night wondering what hewould think of her for that wretched bit of frivolity. Then at last anew thought came to her relief, but it did not give her the peace ofmind that she desired.

He may have mistaken her for Lady Deppingham.

CHAPTER XVI

TWO CALLS FROM THE ENEMY

Deppingham was up and about quite early the next morning—that is, quiteearly for him. He had his rolls and coffee and strolled out in the shadypark for a smoke. The Princess, whose sense of humiliation had not beenlessened by the fitful sleep of the night before, was walking in theshade of the trees on the lower terrace, beyond the fountains and theartificial lake. A great straw hat, borrowed from Lady Agnes, shaded herface from the glare of the mid-morning sun. Farther up the slope, one ofthe maids was playing with the dogs. She waved her hand gaily and pausedto wait for him.

"I was thinking of you," she said in greeting, as he came up.

"How nice you are," he said. "But, my dear, is it wise in you to bethinking of us handsome devils? It's a most dangerous habit—thinking ofother men."

"But, Deppy, dear, the Prince isn't here," she said, falling into hishumour. "That makes quite a difference, doesn't it?"

"Your logic is splendid. Pray resume your thoughts of me—if they werepleasant and agreeable. I'll not blow on you to Karl."

"I was just thinking what a lucky fellow you are to have such a darlingas Agnes for a wife."

"You might as well say that Agnes ought to feel set up because Pong hasa nice coat. By the way, I have a compliment for you—no, not one oftheir beastly trade-lasts! Browne says your hair is more beautiful thanPong's. That's quite a compliment, Titian never even dreamed of hairlike Pong's."

"You know, Deppy," she said with a pout, "I am very unhappy about myhair. It is quite red. I don't see why I should have hair like that of ared co*cker. It seems so animalish."

"Rubbish! Why should you complain? Look at my hair. It's been likenedmore than once to that of a jersey cow."

"Oh, how I adore jersey cows! Now, I wouldn't mind that a bit."

They were looking toward the lower gates while carrying on thisfrivolous conversation. A man had just entered and was coming towardthem. Both recognised the tall figure in grey flannels. Deppingham'semotion was that of undisguised amazement; Genevra's that of confusionand embarrassment. She barely had recovered her lost composure when thenewcomer was close upon them.

There was nothing in the manner of Chase, however, to cause theslightest feeling of uneasiness. He was frankness itself. His smile wasone of apology, almost of entreaty; his broad grass helmet was in hishand and his bow was one of utmost deference.

"I trust I am not intruding," he said as he came up. His gaze was asmuch for Deppingham as for the Princess, his remark quite impersonal.

"Not at all, not at all," said Deppingham quickly, his heart leaping tothe conclusion that the way to the American bar was likely to be openedat last. "Charmed to have you here, Mr. Chase. You've been mostunneighbourly. Have you been presented to her Highness, the—Oh, to besure. Of course you have. Stupid of me."

"We met ages ago," she said with an ingenuous smile, which would havedisarmed Chase if he had been prepared for anything else. As a matter offact, he had approached her in the light of an adventurer who expectsnothing and grasps at straws.

"In the dark ages," said he so ruefully that her smile grew. He hadcome, in truth, to ascertain why her husband had not come with her.

"But not the forgotten variety, I fancy," said Deppingham shrewdly.

"It would be impossible for the Princess to forget the greatest of allfools," said Chase.

"He was no worse than other mortals," said she.

"Thank you," said Chase. Then he turned to Lord Deppingham. "My visitrequires some explanation, Lord Deppingham. You have said that I amunneighbourly. No doubt you appreciate my reasons. One has to respectappearances," with a dry smile. "When one is in doubt he must do as theMoslems do, especially if the Moslems don't want him to do as he wantsto do."

"No doubt you're right, but it sounds a bit involved," murmuredDeppingham. "Now that you are here you must do as the Moslems don't.That's our Golden Rule. We'll consider the visit explained, but notcurtailed. Lady Deppingham will be delighted to see you. Are you readyto come in, Princess?"

They started toward the château, keeping well in the shade of the boxedtrees, the Princess between the two men.

"I say, Chase, do you mind relieving my fears a bit? With all duerespect to your estimable clients, it occurs to me that they are likelyto break over the traces at any moment, and raise the very old Harry atsomebody else's expense. I'd like to know if my head is really safe.Since your experience the other night, I'm a bit apprehensive."

"I came to see you in regard to that very thing, Lord Deppingham. Idon't want to alarm you, but I do not like the appearance of things.They don't trust me and they hate you—quite naturally. I'm rather sorrythat our British man-of-war is out of reach. Pray, don't be alarmed,Princess. It is most improbable that anything evil will happen. And, inany event, we can hold out against them until relief comes."

"We?" demanded Deppingham.

"Certainly. If it comes to an assault of any kind upon the château, Itrust that I may be considered as one of you. I won't serve assassinsand bandits—at least, not after they've got beyond my control. Besides,if the worst should come, they won't discriminate in my favour."

"Why do you stay here, Mr. Chase?" asked the Princess. "You admit thatthey do not like you or trust you. Why do you stay?"

"I came out here to escape certain consequences," said he candidly."I'll stay to enjoy the uncertain ones. I am not in the least alarmed onmy own account. The object of my visit, Lord Deppingham, is to ask youto be on your guard up here. After the next steamer arrives, and theylearn that Sir John will not withdraw me in submission to Rasula'sdemand, with the additional news that your solicitors have filedinjunctions and have begun a bitter contest that may tie up the estatefor years—then, I say, we may have trouble. It is best that you shouldknow what to expect. I am not a traitor to my cause, in telling youthis; it is no more than I would expect from you were the conditionsreversed. Moreover, I do not forget that you gave me the man-of-waropportunity. That was rather good fun."

"It's mighty decent in you, Chase, to put us on our guard. Would youmind talking it over with Browne and me after luncheon? You'll stay toluncheon, of course?"

"Thank you. It may be my death sentence, but I'll stay."

In the wide east gallery they saw Lady Deppingham and Bobby Browne,deeply engrossed in conversation. They were seated in the shade of thewisteria, and the two were close upon them before they heard theirvoices. Deppingham started and involuntarily allowed his hand to go tohis temple, as if to check the thought that flitted through his brain.

"Good Lord," he said to himself, "is it possible that they areconsidering that demmed Saunders's proposition? Surely they can't bethinking of that!"

As he led the way across the green, Browne's voice came to themdistinctly. He was saying earnestly:

"The mere fact that we have come out to this blessed isle is a point infavour of the islanders. Chase won't overlook it and you may be sure SirJohn Brodney is making the most of it. Our coming is a guarantee that weconsider the will valid. It is an admission that we regard it as sound.If not, why should we recognise its provisions, even in the slightestdetail? Britt is looking for hallucinations and all—"

"Sh!" came in a loud hiss from somewhere near at hand, and the two inthe gallery looked down with startled eyes upon the distressed face ofLord Deppingham. They started to their feet at once, astonishment andwonder in their faces. They could scarcely believe their eyes. TheEnemy!

He was smiling broadly as he lifted his helmet, smiling in spite of thediscomfort that showed so plainly in Deppingham's manner.

Chase was warmly welcomed by the two heirs. Lady Agnes was especiallycordial. Her eyes gleamed joyously as she lifted them to meet hisadmiring gaze. She was amazingly pretty. The conviction that Chase hadmistaken her for Lady Agnes, the evening before, took a fresh grasp uponthe mind of the Princess Genevra. A shameless wave of relief surgedthrough her heart.

Chase was presented to Drusilla Browne, who appeared suddenly upon thescene, coming from no one knew where. There was a certain strained lookin the Boston woman's face and a suspicious redness near the bridge ofher little nose. As she had not yet acquired the Boston habit of wearingglasses, whether she needed them or not, the irritation could hardly beattributed to tight pince nez. Genevra made up her mind on the instantthat Drusilla was making herself unhappy over her good-looking husband'sattentions to his co-legatee.

"It's very good of you," said the Enemy, after all of them had joined inthe invitation. There was a peculiar twinkle in his eye as he asked thisrather confounding question: "Why is it that I am more fortunate thanyour own attorneys? I am but a humble lawyer, after all, no better thanthey. Would you mind telling me why I am honoured by an invitation tosit at the table with you?" The touch of easy sarcasm was softened bythe frank smile that went with it. Deppingham, having been the first tooffend, after a look of dismay at his wife, felt it his duty to explain.

"It's—it's—er—oh, yes, it's because you're a diplomat," he finallyremarked in triumph. It was a grand recovery, thought he. "Saunders isan ass and Britt would be one if Browne could only admit it, as I do.Rubbish! Don't let that trouble you. Eh, Browne?"

"Besides," said Bobby Browne breezily, "I haven't heard of your clientsinviting you to lunch, Mr. Chase. The cases are parallel."

"I'm not so sure about his clients' wives," said Deppingham, with a vasthaw-haw! Chase looked extremely uncomfortable.

"I am told that some of them are very beautiful," said Genevra sedately.

"Other men's wives always are, I've discovered," said Chase gallantly.

The party had moved over to the great stone steps which led down intothe gardens. Chase was standing beside Lady Deppingham and both of themwere looking toward his distant bungalow. He turned to the Princess withthe remark:

"That is my home. Princess. It is the first time I have seen it fromyour point of view, Lady Deppingham. I must say that it doesn't seem asfar from the château to the bungalow as it does from the bungalow to thechâteau. There have been times when the château seemed to be thousandsof miles away."

"When in reality it was at your very feet," she said with a bright lookinto his eyes. For some unaccountable reason, Genevra resented that lookand speech. Perhaps it was because she felt the rift of an undercurrent.

"Is that really where you live?" she asked, so innocently that Chase haddifficulty in controlling his expression.

At that instant something struck sharply against the stone column aboveChase's head. At least three persons saw the little puff of smoke in thehills far to the right. Every one heard the distant crack of a rifle.The bullet had dropped at Chase's feet before the sound of the reportcame floating to their ears. No one spoke as he stooped and picked upthe warm, deadly missile. Turning it over in his fingers, an ugly thingto look at, he said coolly, although his cheek had gone white:

"With Von Blitz's compliments, ladies and gentlemen. He is calling onme, by proxy."

"Good God, Chase," cried Browne, "they're trying to murder us. Get back,every one! Inside the doors!"

The women, white-faced and silent for the moment, turned to follow thespeaker.

"I'm sorry to bring my troubles to your door," said Chase. "It was meantfor me, not for any of you. The man who fired that did not intend tokill me. He was merely giving voice to his pain and regret at seeing mein such bad company." He was smiling calmly and did not take a singlestep to follow them to safety.

"Come in, Chase! Don't stand out there to be shot at."

"I'll stay here for a few minutes, Mr. Browne, if you don't mind, justto convince you all that the shot was not intended to kill. They're notready to kill me yet. I'm sure Lord Deppingham will understand. He hasbeen shot at often enough since he came to the island."

"By Jove, I should rather say I have," blurted out Deppingham. "'Pon myword, they had a shot at me every time I tried to pluck a flower at theroadside. I've got so used to it that I resent it when they don't have atry at me."

"Think it was Von Blitz?" asked Browne.

"No. He couldn't hit the château at two hundred yards. It is a native.They shoot like fury." He lighted a cigarette and coolly leaned againstthe column, his gaze bent on the spot where the smoke had been seen. Theothers were grouped inside the doors, where they could see without beingseen. A certain sense of horror possessed all of the watchers. It was asif they were waiting to see him fall with a bullet in hisbreast—executed before their eyes. Several minutes passed.

"For heaven's sake, why does he stand there?" cried the Princess atlast. "I can endure it no longer. It may be as he says it is, but it isfoolhardy to stand there and taunt the pride of that marksman. I can'tstay here and wait for it to come. How can—"

"He's been there for ten minutes, Princess," said Browne. "Plenty oftime for another try."

"I am not afraid to stand beside him," said Lady Agnes suddenly. She hadconquered her dread and saw the chance for something theatrical. Herhusband grasped her arm as she started toward the Enemy.

"None of that, Aggie," he said sharply.

Before they were aware of her intention, the Princess left the shelterand boldly walked across the open space to the side of the man. Hestarted and opened his lips to give vent to a sharp command.

"It is so easy to be a hero, Mr. Chase, when one is quite sure there isno real danger," she said, with distinct irony in her tones. "One canafford to be melodramatic if he knows his part so well as you knowyours."

Chase felt his face burn. It was a direct declaration that he hadplanned the whole affair in advance. He flicked the ashes from hiscigarette and then tossed it away, hesitating long before replying.

"Nevertheless, I have the greatest respect for the courage which bringsyou to my side. I daresay you are quite justified in your opinion of me.It all must seem very theatrical to you. I had not thought of it in thatlight. I shall now retire from the centre of the stage. It will beperfectly safe for you to remain here—just as it was for me." He wasleaving her without another word or look. She repented.

"I am sorry for what I said," she said eagerly. "And—" she looked up atthe hills with a sudden widening of her eyes—"I think I shall notremain."

He waited for her and they crossed to the entrance together.

Luncheon was quite well over before the spirits of the party reactedfrom the depression due to the shooting. Chase made light of theoccurrence, but sought to impress upon the others the fact that it wasprophetic of more serious events in the future. In a perfectlycold-blooded manner he told them that the islanders might rise againstthem at any time, overstepping the bounds of England's law in a returnto the primeval law of might. He advised the occupants of the château toexercise extreme caution at all times.

"The people are angry and they will become desperate. Their interestsare mine, of course. I am perfectly sincere in saying to you, LadyDeppingham, and to you, Mr. Browne, that in time they will win outagainst you in the courts. But they are impatient; they are not the kindwho can wait and be content. It is impossible for you to carry out theprovisions of the will, and they know it. That is why they resent thedelays that are impending."

Deppingham told him of the scheme proposed by Saunders, treating it as avast joke. Chase showed a momentary sign of uneasiness, but covered itinstantly by laughing with the others. Strange to say, he had beeninstructed from London to look out for just such a coup on the part ofthe heirs. Not that the marriage could be legally established, but thatit might create a complication worth avoiding.

He could not help looking from Lady Deppingham to Bobby Browne, acalculating gleam in his grey eyes. How very dangerous she could be! Hewas quite ready to feel very sorry for pretty Mrs. Browne. Browne, ofcourse, revealed no present symptom of surrender to the charms of hisco-legatee. Later on, he was to recall this bit of calculation and toenlarge upon it from divers points of view.

Just now he was enjoying himself for the first time since his arrival inJapat. He sat opposite to the Princess; his eyes were refreshingthemselves after months of fatigue; his blood was coursing through newveins. And yet, his head was calling his heart a fool.

CHAPTER XVII

THE PRINCESS GOES GALLOPING

A week passed—an interesting week in which few things happened openly,but in which the entire situation underwent a subtle but completechange. The mail steamer had come and gone. It brought disconcertingnews from London. Chase was obliged to tell the islanders that notice ofa contest had been filed. The lineal heirs had pooled their issues andwere now fighting side by side. The matter would be in chancery formonths, even years. He could almost feel the gust of rage anddisappointment that swept over the island—although not a word came fromthe lips of the sullen population. The very silence was foreboding.

He did not visit the château during that perplexing week. It was hard,but he resolutely kept to the path of duty, disdaining the pleasuresthat beckoned to him. Every day he saw and talked with Britt andSaunders. They, as well as the brisk Miss Pelham, gave him the "familynews" from the château. Saunders, when he was not moping with the agueof love, indulged in rare exhibitions of joy over the turn affairs weretaking with his client and Bobby Browne. It did not requireextraordinary keenness on Chase's part to gather that her ladyship andBrowne had suddenly decided to engage in what he would call a mildflirtation, but what Saunders looked upon as a real attack of love.

"If I had the nerve, I'd call Browne good and hard," said Britt, overhis julep. "It isn't right. It isn't decent. No telling what it willcome to. The worst of it is that his wife doesn't blame him. She blamesher. They disappear for hours at a time and they've always got theirheads together. I've noticed it for a month, but it's got worse in thelast week. Poor little Drusilla. She's from Boston, Chase, and can'tretaliate. Besides, Deppingham wouldn't take notice if she tried."

"There's one safeguard," said Chase. "They can't elope on this island."

"They can't, eh? Why, man, they could elope in the château and nobodycould overtake 'em. You've no idea how big it is. The worst of it is,Deppingham has got an idea that they may try to put him out of theway—him and Drusilla. Awful, isn't it?"

"Perfect rot, Britt. You'll find that it turns out all right in the end.I'd bank on Lady Deppingham's cool little head. Browne may be mad, butshe isn't."

"It won't help me any unless both of 'em are mad," said Britt, with awry face. "And, say, by the way, Saunders is getting to dislike youintensely."

"I can't help it if he loves the only stenographer on the island," saidChase easily. "You seem to be the only one who isn't in hot water allthe time, Britt."

"Me and the Princess," said Britt laconically. Chase looked up quickly,but the other's face was as straight as could be. "If you were a realgentleman you would come around once in a while and give her somethingto talk to, instead of about."

"Does she talk about me?" quite steadily.

"They all do. I've even heard the white handmaidens discussing you inglowing terms. You're a regular matinee hero up there, my—"

"Selim!" broke in Chase. The Arab came to the table immediately. "Don'tput so much liquor in Mr. Britt's drinks after this. Mostly water."Britt grinned amiably.

They sipped through their straws in silence for quite a while. Both werethinking of the turn affairs were taking at the château.

"I say, Britt, you're not responsible for this affair between Browne andLady Deppingham, are you?" demanded Chase abruptly.

"I? What do you mean?"

"I was just wondering if you could have put Browne up to the game in thehope that a divorce or two might solve a very difficult problem."

"Now that you mention it, I'm going to look up the church and colonialdivorce laws," said Britt non-committally, after a moment.

"I advise you to hurry," said Chase coolly. "If you can divorce andmarry 'em inside of four weeks, with no court qualified to try the casenearer than India, you are a wonder."

Chase was in the habit of visiting the mines two or three times a weekduring work hours. The next morning after his conversation with Britt,he rode out to the mines. When he reached the brow of the last hill,overlooking the wide expanse in which the men toiled, he drew reinsharply and stared aghast at what lay before him.

Instead of the usual activity, there was not a man in sight. It was sometime before his bewildered brain could grasp the meaning of the puzzle.Selim, who rode behind, came up and without a word directed his master'sattention to the long ridge of trees that bordered the broken hillsides.Then he saw the miners. Five hundred half-naked brown men werecongregated in the shade of the trees, far to the right. By the aid ofhis glasses he could see that one of their number was addressing them inan earnest, violent harangue. It was not difficult, even at thatdistance, to recognise the speaker as Von Blitz. From time to time, thesilent watchers saw the throng exhibit violent signs of emotion. Therewere frequent gesticulations, occasional dances; the faint sound ofshouts came across the valley.

Chase shuddered. He knew what it meant. He turned to Selim, who satbeside him like a bronze statue, staring hard at the spectacle.

"How about Allah now, Selim?" he asked sententiously.

"Allah is great, Allah is good," mumbled the Moslem youth, but withoutheart.

"Do you think He can save me from those dogs?" asked the master, with akindly smile.

"Sahib, do not go among them to-day," implored Selim impulsively.

"They are expecting me, Selim. If I don't come, they will know that Ihave funked. They'll know I am afraid of them."

"Do not go to-day," persisted Selim doggedly. Suddenly he started,looking intently to the left along the line of the hill. Chase followedthe direction of his gaze and uttered a sharp exclamation of surprise.

Several hundred yards away, outlined against the blue sky beyond theknob, stood the motionless figure of a horse and its rider—a woman in agreen habit. Chase could hardly believe his eyes. It did not require asecond glance to tell him who the rider was; he could not be mistaken inthat slim, proud figure. Without a moment's hesitation he turned hishorse's head and rode rapidly toward her. She had left the road to rideout upon the crest of the green knob. Chase was in the mood to curse hertemerity.

As he came up over the slope, she turned in the saddle to watch hisapproach. He had time to see that two grooms from the stables were inthe road below her. There was a momentary flash of surprise andconfusion in her eyes, succeeded at once by a warm glow of excitement.She smiled as he drew up beside her, not noticing his unconscious frown.

"So those are the fabulous mines of Japat," she said gaily, withoutother greeting. "Where is the red glow from the rubies?"

His horse had come to a standstill beside hers. Scarcely a footseparated his boot from her animal's side. If she detected the seriouslook in his face, she chose to ignore it.

"Who gave you permission to ride so far from the château?" he demanded,almost harshly. She looked at him in amazement.

"Am I a trespasser?" she asked coldly.

"I beg your pardon," he said quickly. "I did not mean to offend. Don'tyou know that it is not safe for you to—"

"Nonsense!" she exclaimed. "I am not afraid of your shadows. Why shouldthey disturb me?"

"Look!" He pointed to the distant assemblage. "Those are not shadows.They are men and they are making ready to transform themselves intobeasts. Before long they will strike. Von Blitz and Rasula have sunk mywarships. You must understand that it is dangerous to leave thechâteau on such rides as this. Come! We will start back together—atonce."

"I protest, Mr. Chase, that you have no right to say what I shall door—"

"It isn't a question of right. You are nearly ten miles from thechâteau, in the most unfrequented part of the island. Some day you willnot return to your friends. It will be too late to hunt for you then."

"How very thrilling!" she said with a laugh.

"I beg of you, do not treat it so lightly," he said, so sharply that sheflushed. He was looking intently in the direction of the men. She wasnot slow to see that their position had been discovered by the miners."They have seen us," he said briefly. "It is quite possible that they donot mean to do anything desperate at this time, but you can readily seethat they will resent this proof of spying on our part. They mistake mefor one of the men from the château. Will you come with me now?"

"It seems so absurd—but I will come, of course. I have no desire tocause you any uneasiness."

As they rode swiftly back to the tree-lined road, a faint chorus ofyells came to them across the valley. For some distance they rodewithout speaking a word to each other. They had traversed two miles ofthe soft dirt road before Chase discovered that Selim was the only manfollowing them. The two men who had come out with the Princess were notin sight. He mentioned the fact to her, with a peculiar smile on hislips. They slackened the pace and Chase called Selim up from behind. Thelittle Arab's face was a study in its display of unwonted emotion.

"Excellency," he replied, in answer to Chase's question, his voicetrembling with excitement, "they left me at the bend, a mile back. Theywill not return to the château."

"The dogs! So, you see, Princess, your escort was not to be trusted,"said Chase grimly.

"But they have stolen the horses," she murmured irrelevantly. "Theybelong to the château stables."

"Which direction did they take, Selim?"

"They rode off by the Carter's highway, Excellency, toward Aratat."

"It may not appeal to your vanity, your Highness, but it is my duty toinform you that they have gone to report our clandestine meeting."

"Clandestine! What do you mean, sir?"

"The islanders are watching me like hawks. Every time I am seen with anyone from the château, they add a fresh nail to the coffin they arepreparing for me. It's really more serious than you imagine. I must,therefore, forbid you to ride outside of the park."

They rode swiftly for another mile, silence being unbroken between them.She was trying to reconcile her pride to the justice of his command.

"I daresay you are right, Mr. Chase," she said at last, quite frankly."I thank you."

"I am glad that you understand," he said simply. His gaze was setstraight before him, keen, alert, anxious. They were riding through adark stretch of forest; the foliage came down almost to their faces;there was an almost impenetrable green wall on either side of them. Heknew, and she was beginning to suspect, that danger lurked in thepeaceful, sweet-smelling shades.

"I begin to fear, Mr. Chase," she said, with a faint smile, "that LadyDeppingham deceived me in suggesting Japat as a rest cure. It mayinterest you to know that the court at Rapp-Thorberg has been very gaythis winter. Much has happened in the past few months."

"I know," he said briefly, almost bitterly.

"My brother, Christobal, has been with us after two years' absence. Hecame with his wife from the ends of the earth, and my father forgave himin good earnest. Christobal was very disobedient in the old days. Herefused to marry the girl my father chose for him. Was it not foolish ofhim?"

"Not if it has turned out well in the end."

"I daresay it has—or will. She is delightful. My father loves her. Andmy father—the Grand Duke, I should say—does not love those who crosshim. One is very fortunate to have been born a prince." He thought hedetected a note of bitterness in this raillery.

"I can conceive of no greater fortune than to have been born Prince Karlof Brabetz," he said lightly. She flashed a quick glance at his face,her eyes narrowing in the effort to divine his humour. He saw the cloudwhich fell over her face and was suddenly silent, contrite for someunaccountable reason.

"As I was saying," she resumed, after a moment, "Lady Deppingham haslured me from sunshowers into the tempest. Mr. Chase," and her face wassuddenly full of real concern, "is there truly great danger?"

"I fear so," he answered. "It is only a question of time. I have triedto check this uprising, but I've failed. They don't trust me. Last nightVon Blitz, Rasula and three others came to the bungalow and coollyinformed me that my services were no longer required. I told them to—togo to—"

"I understand," she said quickly. "It required courage to tell themthat." He smiled.

"They protested friendship, but I can read very well as I run. But can'twe find something more agreeable to talk about? May I say that I havenot seen a newspaper in three months? The world has forgotten me. Theremust be news that you can give me. I am hungry for it."

"You poor man! No newspapers! Then you don't know what has happened inall these months?"

"Nothing since before Christmas. Would you like to see a bit of newsthat I clipped from the last Paris paper that came into my hands?"

"Yes," she said, vaguely disturbed. He drew forth his pocketbook andtook from its interior a small bit of paper, which he handed to her, ashamed smile in his eyes. She read it at a glance and handed it back. Afaint touch of red came into her cheeks.

"How very odd! Why should you have kept that bit of paper all thesemonths?"

"I will admit that the announcement of the approaching nuptials of twopersons whom I had met so casually may seem a strange thing to cherish,but I am a strange person. You have been married nearly three months,"he said reflectively. "Three months and two days, to be precise."

She laughed outright, a bewitching, merry laugh that startled him.

"How accurate you would be," she exclaimed. "It would be a highlyinteresting achievement, Mr. Chase, if it were only borne out by facts.You see, I have not been married so much as three minutes."

He stared at her, uncomprehending.

She went on: "Do you consider it bad luck to postpone a wedding?"

Involuntarily he drew his horse closer to hers. There was a new gleam inhis eyes; her blood leaped at the challenge they carried.

"Very bad luck," he said quite steadily; "for the bridegroom."

In an instant they seemed to understand something that had not even beenconsidered before. She looked away, but he kept his eyes fast upon herhalf-turned face, finding delight in the warm tint that surged soshamelessly to her brow. He wondered if she could hear the pounding ofhis heart above the thud of the horses' feet.

"We are to be married in June," she said somewhat defiantly. Some of thelight died in his eyes. "Prince Karl was very ill. They thought he mightdie. His—his studies—his music, I mean, proved more than he couldcarry. It—it is not serious. A nervous break-down," she explainedhaltingly.

"You mean that he—" he paused before finishing thesentence—"collapsed?"

"Yes. It was necessary to postpone the marriage. He will be quite wellagain, they say—by June."

Chase thought of the small, nervous, excitable prince and in his mindthere arose a great doubt. They might pronounce him cured, but would itbe true? "I hope he may be fully recovered, for your sake," he managedto say.

"Thank you." After a long pause, she turned to him again and said: "Weare to live in Paris for a year or two at least."

Then Chase understood. Prince Karl would not be entirely recovered inJune. He did not ask, but he knew in some strange way that hisphysicians were there and that it would be necessary for him to be nearthem.

"He is in Paris now?"

"No," she answered, and that was all. He waited, but she did not expandher confidence.

"So it is to be in June?" he mused.

"In June," she said quietly. He sighed.

"I am more than sorry that you are a princess," he said boldly.

"I am quite sure of that," she said, so pointedly that he almost gasped.She was laughing comfortably, a mischievous gleam in her dark eyes. Hislaugh was as awkward as hers was charming.

"You do like to be flattered," he exclaimed at random. "And I shalltake it upon myself to add to to-day's measure." He again drew forth hispocketbook. She looked on curiously. "Permit me to restore the lacehandkerchief which you dropped some time ago. I've been keeping it formyself, but----"

"My handkerchief?" she gasped, her thoughts going at once to thatridiculous incident of the balcony. "It must belong to Lady Deppingham."

"Oh, it isn't the one you used on the balcony," he protested coolly. "Itantedates that adventure."

"Balcony? I don't understand you," she contested.

"Then you are exceedingly obtuse."

"I never dreamed that you could see," she confessed pathetically.

"It was extremely nice in you and very presumptuous in me. But, yourhighness, this is the handkerchief you dropped in the Castle garden sixmonths ago. Do you recognise the perfume?"

She took it from his fingers gingerly, a soft flush of interestsuffusing her cheek. Before she replied, she held the dainty bit of laceto her straight little nose.

"You are very sentimental," she said at last. "Would you care to keepit? It is of no value to me."

"Thanks, I will keep it."

"I've changed my mind," she said inconsequently, stuffing the fabric inher gauntlet. "You have something else in that pocketbook that I shouldvery much like to possess."

"It can't be that Bank of England—"

"No, no! You wrapped it in a bit of paper last week and placed it therefor safe keeping."

"You mean the bullet?"

"Yes. I should like it. To show to my friends, you know, when I tellthem how near you were to being shot." Without a word he gave her thebullet that had dropped at his feet on that first day at the château."Thank you. Oh, isn't it a horrid thing! Just to think, it might havestruck you!" She shuddered.

He was about to answer in his delirium when a sharp turn in the roadbrought them in view of the château. Not a hundred yards ahead of themtwo persons were riding slowly, unattended, very much occupied inthemselves. Their backs were toward Chase and the Princess, but it wasan easy matter to recognise them. The glance which shot from thePrincess to Chase found a peculiar smile disappearing from his lips.

"I know what you are thinking," she cried impulsively "You arewrong—very wrong, Mr. Chase. Lady Deppingham is a born coquette—a borntrifler. It is ridiculous to think that she can be seriously engaged ina—"

"It isn't that, Princess," he interrupted, a dark loo in his eyes. "Iwas merely wondering whether dear little Mrs. Browne is as happy as shemight be."

Genevra was silent for a moment.

"I had not thought of that," she said soberly.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE BURNING OF THE BUNGALOW

He went in and had tiffin with them in the hanging garden. Deppinghamwas surly and preoccupied. Drusilla Browne was unusually vivacious. Atbest, she was not volatile; her greatest accomplishment lay in theability to appreciate what others had to say. This in itself is a treatso unusual that one feels like commending the woman who carries it toexcess.

Her husband, aside from a natural anxiety, was the same blithe optimistas ever. He showed no sign of restraint, no evidence of compunction.Chase found himself secretly speculating on the state of affairs. Werethe two heirs working out a preconceived plan or were they, after all,playing with the fires of spring? He recalled several of Miss Pelham'ssocialistic remarks concerning the privileges of the "upper ten," theintolerance of caste and the snobbish morality which attaches folly tonone but the girl who "works for a living."

Immediately after tiffin, Genevra carried Lady Deppingham off to herroom. When they came forth for a proposed stroll in the grounds, LadyAgnes was looking very meek and tearful, while the Princess had abouther the air of one who has conquered by gentleness. In the uppercorridor, where it was dark and quiet, the wife of Deppingham haltedsuddenly and said:

"It has been so appallingly dull, Genevra, don't you understand? That'swhy. Besides, it isn't necessary for her to be so horrid about it.She—"

"She isn't horrid about it, dear. She's most self-sacrificing."

"Rubbish! She talks about the Puritans, and all that sort of thing. Iknow what she means. But there's no use talking about it. I'll do as yousay—command, I mean. I'll try to be a prude. Heaven alone knows what areal prude is. I don't. All this tommy-rot about Bobby and me wouldn'texist if that wretched Chase man had been a little more affable. Henever noticed us until you came. No wife to snoop after him and—why, mydear, he would have been ideal."

"It's all very nice, Agnes, but you forget your husband," said Genevra,with a tolerant smile.

"Deppy? Oh, my dear," and she laughed gaily once more. "Deppy doesn'tmind. He rather likes me to be nice to other men. That is, if they arenice men. Indeed, I don't forget Deppy! I shall remember him to my dyingday."

"Your point of view is quite different from that of a Boston wife, I'dsuggest."

"Certainly. We English have a colonial policy. We've spread out, mydear."

"You are frivolous once more, Agnes."

"Genevra," said Lady Agnes solemnly, "if you'd been on a barren islandfor five months as I have, with nothing to look at but your husband andthe sunsets, you would not be so hard on me. I wouldn't take Drusilla'shusband away from her for the world; I wouldn't even look at him if hewere not on the barren island, too. I've read novels in which a man andwoman have been wrecked on a desert island and lived there for months,even years, in an atmosphere of righteousness. My dear, those novelistsare ninnies. Nobody could be so good as all that without getting wings.And if they got wings they'd soon fly away from each other. Angels arethe only creatures who can be quite circ*mspect, and they're not real,after all, don't you know. Drusilla may not know it yet, but she's notan angel, by any means; she's real and doesn't know it, that's all. I amreal and know it only too well. That's the difference. Now, come along.Let's have a walk. I'm tired of men and angels. That's why I want youfor awhile. You've got no wings, Genevra; but it's of no consequence, asyou have no one to fly away from."

"Or to, you might add," laughed Genevra.

"That's very American. You've been talking to Miss Pelham. She's alwaysadding things. By the way, Mr. Chase sees quite a lot of her. She typesfor him. I fancy she's trying to choose between him and Mr. Saunders. Ifyou were she, dear, which would you choose?"

"Mr. Saunders," said Genevra promptly. "But if I were myself, I'd chooseMr. Chase."

"Speaking of angels, he must have wings a yard long. He has been chosenby an entire harem and he flies from them as if pursued by the devil. Iimagine, however, that he'd be rather dangerous if his wings were to getout of order unexpectedly. But he's nice, isn't he?"

The Princess nodded her head tolerantly.

Her ladyship went on: "I don't want to walk, after all. Let us sit herein the corridor and count the prisms in the chandeliers. It's such fun.I've done it often. You can imagine how gay it has been here, dear. Haveyou heard the latest gossip? Mr. Britt has advanced a new theory. We areto indulge in double barrelled divorce proceedings. As soon as they areover, Mr. Browne and I are to marry. Then we are to hurry up and getanother divorce. Then we marry our own husband and wife all over again.Isn't it exciting? Only, of course, it isn't going to happen. It wouldbe so frightfully improper—shocking, don't you know. You see, I shouldgo on living with my divorced husband, even after I was married toBobby. I'd be obliged to do that in order to give Bobby grounds for adivorce as soon as the estate is settled. There's a whole lot more toMr. Britt's plan that I can't remember. It's a much gentler solutionthan the polygamy scheme that Mr. Saunders proposes; I will say that forit. But Deppy has put his foot down hard. He says he had trouble enoughgetting me to marry him the first time; he won't go through it again.Besides, he loathes grass widows, as Mrs. Browne calls them. Mr. Britttold him he'll be sure to love me more than ever as soon as I become aguileless divorcee. Of course, it's utter nonsense."

"A little nonsense now and then is—" began the Princess, and pausedamiably.

"Is Mr. Chase to stay for lunch?" asked Lady Agnes irrelevantly.

"How should I know? I am not his hostess."

"Hoity-toity! I've never known you to look like that before. A littledash of red sets your cheeks off—" But Genevra threw up her hands indespair and started toward the stairway, her chin tilted high. LadyAgnes, laughing softly, followed. "It's too bad she's down to marry thathorrid little Brabetz," she said to herself, with a sudden wistfulglance at the proud, vibrant, loveable creature ahead. "She deserves abetter fate than that."

Genevra waited for her at the head of the stairway.

"Agnes, I'd like you to promise that you will keep your avaricious clawsoff Mrs. Browne's husband," she said, seriously.

"I'll try, my dear," said Lady Agnes meekly.

When they reached the garden, they found Deppingham smoking furiouslyand quite alone. Chase had left some time before, to give warning to theEnglish bank that trouble might be expected. The shadow ofdisappointment that flitted across Genevra's face was not observed bythe others. Bobby Browne and his wife were off strolling in the lowerend of the park.

"Poor old Deppy," cried his wife. "I've made up my mind to beexceedingly nice to you for a whole day."

"I suppose I ought to beat you," he said slowly.

"Beat me? Why, pray?"

"I received an anonymous letter this morning, telling me of yourgoings-on with Bobby Browne," said he easily. "It was stuck under mydoor by Bromley, who said that Miss Pelham gave it to her. Miss Pelhamreferred me to Mr. Britt and Mr. Britt urged me to keep the letter forfuture reference. I think he said it could be used as Exhibit A. Then headvised me to beat you only in the presence of witnesses."

"The whole household must be going mad," cried Genevra with a laugh.

"Oh, if something only would happen!" exclaimed her ladyship. "A riot, amassacre—anything! It all sounds like a farce to you, Genevra, but youhaven't been here for five months, as we have."

As they moved away from the vine-covered nook in the garden, a handparted the leaves in the balcony above and a dark, saturnine faceappeared behind it. The two women would have felt extremelyuncomfortable had they known that a supposedly trusted servant hadfollowed them from the distant corridor, where he had heard every wordof their conversation. This secret espionage had been going on for daysin the château; scarcely a move was made or a word spoken by the whitepeople that escaped the attention of a swarthy spy. And, curiouslyenough, these spies were no longer reporting their discoveries toHollingsworth Chase.

The days passed. Hollingsworth Chase now realised that he no longer hadauthority over the natives; they suffered him to come and go, but gaveno heed to his suggestions. Rasula made the reports for the islandersand took charge of the statements from the bank.

Every morning he rode boldly into the town, transacted what business hecould, talked with the thoroughly disturbed bankers, and then defiantlymade his way to the château. He was in love with thePrincess—desperately in love. He understood perfectly—for he was a manof the world and cosmopolitan—that nothing could come of it. She was aprincess and she was not in a story book; she could not marry him. Itwas out of the question; of that he was thoroughly convinced, even inthe beginning.

So far as Genevra was concerned, on her part it could mean no more thana diversion, a condescension to coquetry, a simple flirtation; it meantthe passing of a few days, the killing of time, the pleasure of gentleconquest, and then—forgetfulness. All this he knew and reckoned with,for she was a princess and he but a plebeian passing by.

At first she revolted against the court he so plainly paid to her inthese last few days; it was bold, conscienceless, impertinent. Sheavoided him; she treated him to a short season of disdain; she did allin her power to rebuke his effrontery—and then in the end shesurrendered to the overpowering vanity which confronts all women who putthe pride of caste against the pride of conquest.

She decided to give him as good as he sent in this brief battle offolly; it mattered little who came off with the fewest scars, for in afortnight or two they would go their separate ways, no better, no worsefor the conflict. And, after all, it was very dull in these last days,and he was very attractive, and very brave, and very gallant, and, aboveall, very sensible. It required three days of womanly indecision tobring her to this way of looking at the situation.

They rode together in the park every morning, keeping well out of rangeof marksmen in the hills. A sense of freedom replaced the naturalreserve that had marked their first encounters in this little campaignof tenderness; they gave over being afraid of each other. He was tooshrewd, too crafty to venture an open declaration; too much of agentleman to force her hand ruthlessly. She understood and appreciatedthis considerateness. Their conflict was with the eyes, the tone of thevoice, the intervals of silence; no touch of the hand—nothing, exceptthe strategies of Eros.

What did it matter if a few dead impulses, a few crippled ideals, a fewblasted hopes were left strewn upon the battlefield at the end of thefortnight? What mattered if there was grave danger of one or both ofthem receiving heart wounds that would cling to them all their lives?What did anything matter, so long as Prince Karl of Brabetz was notthere?

One night toward the end of this week of enchanting rencontres—thisweek of effort to uncover the vulnerable spot in the other'sarmour—Genevra stood leaning upon the rail which enclosed the hanginggarden. She was gazing abstractedly into the black night, out of which,far away, blinked the light in the bungalow. A dreamy languor lay uponher. She heard the cry of the night birds, the singing of woodlandinsects, but she was not aware of these persistent sounds; far below inthe grassy court she could hear Britt conversing with Saunders and MissPelham; behind her in the little garden, Lady Deppingham and Browne hadtheir heads close together over a table on which they were playing anewly discovered game of "solitaire"; Deppingham and Mrs. Browne leanedagainst the opposite railing, looking down into the valley. The softnight wind fanned her face, bringing to her nostrils the scent of thefragrant forest. It was the first night in a week that he had missedcoming to the château.

She missed him. She was lonely.

He had told her of the meeting that was to be held at the bungalow thatnight, at which he was to be asked to deliver over to Rasula's committeethe papers, the receipts and the memoranda that he had accumulatedduring his months of employment in their behalf. She had a feeling ofdread—a numb, sweet feeling that she could not explain, except thatunder all of it lay the proud consciousness that he was a man who hadcourage, a man who was not afraid.

"How silly I am," she said, half aloud in her abstraction.

She turned her gaze away from the blinking light in the hills, a queer,guilty smile on her lips. The wistful, shamed smile faded as she lookedupon the couple who had given her so much trouble a week ago. She felt,with a hot flash of self-abasem*nt, as if she was morally responsiblefor the consequences that seemed likely to attend Lady Deppingham'sindiscretions.

Across the garden from where she was flaying herself bitterly, LadyDeppingham's husband was saying in low, agitated tones to Bobby Browne'swife, with occasional furtive glances at the two solitaire workers:

"Now, see here, Brasilia, I'm not saying that our—that is, LadyDeppingham and Bobby—are accountable for what has happened, but thatdoesn't make it any more pleasant! It's of little consequence who istrying to poison us, don't you know. And all that. They wouldn't doit, I'm sure, but somebody is! That's what I mean, d'ye see? LadyDep—"

"I know my husband wouldn't—couldn't do such a thing, LordDeppingham," came from Drusilla's stiff lips, almost as a moan. She wasvery miserable.

"Of course not, my dear Drusilla," he protested nervously. Thensuddenly, as his eye caught what he considered a suspicious movement ofBobby's hand as he placed a card close to Lady Deppingham's fingers:"Demme, I—I'd rather he wouldn't—but I beg your pardon, Drusilla! It'sall perfectly innocent."

"Of course, it's innocent!" whispered Drusilla fiercely.

"You know, my dear girl, I—I don't hate your husband. You may have afeeling that I do, but----"

"I suppose you think that I hate your wife. Well, I don't! I'm very fondof her."

"It's utter nonsense for us to suspect them of—Pray don't be so upset,Drusilla. It's all right----"

"If you think I am worrying over your wife's harmless affair with myhusband, you are very much mistaken."

Deppingham was silent for a long time.

"I don't sleep at all these night," he said at last, miserably. Shecould not feel sorry for him. She could only feel for herself and hersleepless nights. "Drusilla, do—do you think they want to get rid ofus? We're the obstacles, you know. We can't help it, but we are.Somebody put that pill in my tea to-day. It must have been a servant. Itcouldn't have been—er----"

"My husband, sir?"

"No; my wife. You know, Drusilla, she's not that sort. She has a horrorof death and—" he stopped and wiped his brow pathetically.

"If the servants are trying to poison any of us, Lord Deppingham, it isreasonable to suspect that your wife and my husband are the ones theywant to dispose of, not you and me. I don't believe it was poison youfound in your tea. But if it was, it was intended for one of the heirs."

"Well, there's some consolation in that," said Deppy, smiling for thefirst time. "It's annoying, however, to go about feeling all the timethat one is likely to pass away because some stupid ass of an assassinmakes a blunder in giving—"

The sharp rattle of firearms in the distance brought a sudden stop tohis lugubrious reflections. Five, a dozen—a score of shots were heard.The blood turned cold in the veins of every one in the garden; facesblanched suddenly and all voices were hushed; a form of paralysis seizedand held them for a full minute.

Then the voice of Britt below broke harshly upon the tense, still air:"Good God! Look! It is the bungalow!"

A bright glow lighted the dark mountain side, a vivid red painted thetrees; the smell of burning wood came down with the breezes. Two orthree sporadic shots were borne to the ears of those who looked towardthe blazing bungalow.

"They've killed Chase!" burst from the stiff lips of Bobby Browne.

"Damn them!" came up from below in Britt's hoarse voice.

CHAPTER XIX

CHASE COMES FROM THE CLOUDS

For many minutes, the watchers in the château stared at the burningbungalow, fascinated, petrified. Through the mind of each man ran thesudden, sharp dread that Chase had met death at the hands of hisenemies, and yet their stunned sensibilities refused at once to graspthe full horror of the tragedy.

Genevra felt her heart turn cold; then something seemed to clutch her bythe throat and choke the breath out of her body. Through her brain wentwhirling the recollection of his last words to her that afternoon:"They'll find me ready if they come for trouble." She wondered if he hadbeen ready for them or if they had surprised him! She had heard theshots. Chase could not have fired them all. He may have firedonce—perhaps twice—that was all! The fusilade came from the guns ofmany, not one. Was he now lying dead in that blazing—She screamed aloudwith the thought of it!

"Can't something be done?" she cried again and again, without taking hergaze from the doomed bungalow. She turned fiercely upon Bobby Browne,his countryman. Afterward she recalled that he stood staring as she hadstared, Lady Deppingham clasping his arm with both of her hands. Theglance also took in the face of Deppingham. He was looking at his wifeand his eyes were wide and glassy, but not with terror. "It may not betoo late," again cried the Princess. "There are enough of us here tomake an effort, no matter how futile. He may be alive and trapped, up—"

"You're right," shouted Browne. "He's not the kind to go down with thefirst rush. We must go to him. We can get there in ten minutes. Britt!Where are the guns? Are you with us, Deppingham?"

He did not wait for an answer, but dashed out of the garden and down thesteps, calling to his wife to follow.

"Stop!" shouted Deppingham. "We dare not leave this place! If they haveturned against Chase, they are also ready for us. I'm not a coward,Browne. We're needed here, that's all. Good God, man, don't you see whatit means? It's to be a general massacre! We all are to go to-night. Theservants may even now be waiting to cut us down. It's too late to helpChase. They've got him, poor devil! Everybody inside! Get to the guns ifpossible and cut off the servants' quarters. We must not let themsurprise us. Follow me!"

There was wisdom in what he said, and Browne was not slow to see itclearly. With a single penetrating glance at Genevra's despairing face,he shook his head gloomily, and turned to follow Deppingham, who washurrying off through the corridor with her ladyship.

"Come," he called, and the Princess, feeling Drusilla's hand graspingher arm, gave one helpless look at the fire and hastened to obey.

In the grand hallway, they came upon Britt and Saunders white-faced andexcited. The white servants were clattering down the stairways, filledwith alarm, but there was not one of the native attendants in sight.This was ominous enough in itself. As they huddled there for a moment,undecided which way to turn, the sound of a violent struggle in thelower corridor came to their ears. Loud voices, blows, a single shot,the rushing of feet, the panting of men in fierce combat—and then, evenas the whites turned to retreat up the stairway, a crowd of men surgedup the stairs from below, headed by Baillo, the major-domo.

"Stop, excellencies!" he shouted again and again. Bobby Browne andDeppingham were covering the retreat, prepared to fight to the end fortheir women, although unarmed. It was the American who first realisedthat Baillo was not heading an attack upon them. He managed to conveythis intelligence to the others and in a moment they were listening inwonder to the explanations of the major-domo.

Surprising as it may appear, the majority of the servants were faithfulto their trust, Baillo and a score of his men had refused to join thestable men and gardeners in the plot to assassinate the white people. Asa last resort, the conspirators contrived to steal into the château,hoping to fall upon their victims before Baillo could interpose. Themajor-domo, however, with the wily sagacity of his race, anticipated themove. The two forces met in the south hall, after the plotters hadeffected an entrance from the garden; the struggle was brief, for theconspirators were outnumbered and surprised. They were even now lyingbelow, bound and helpless, awaiting the disposition of their intendedvictims.

"It is not because we love you, excellencies," explained Baillo, with asudden fierce look in his eyes, "but because Allah has willed that weshould serve you faithfully. We are your dogs. Therefore we fight foryou. It is a vile dog which bites its master."

Browne, with the readiness of the average American, again assumedcommand of the situation. He gave instructions that the prisoners, sevenin number, be confined in the dungeon, temporarily, at least. Bobby didnot make the mistake of pouring gratitude upon the faithful servitors;it would have been as unwise as it was unwelcome. He simply issuedcommands; he was obeyed with the readiness that marks the soldier whodies for the cause he hates, but will not abandon.

"There will be no other attack on us to-night," said Browne, rejoiningthe women after his interview with Baillo. "It has missed fire for thepresent, but they will try to get at us sooner or later from theoutside. Britt, will you and Mr. Saunders put those prisoners throughthe 'sweat' box? You may be able to bluff something out of them, if youthreaten them with death. They—"

"It won't do, Browne," said Deppingham, shaking his head. "They arefatalists, they are stoics. I know the breed better than you. Questionif you like, but threats will be of no avail. Keep 'em locked up, that'sall."

Firearms and ammunition were taken from the gunroom to the quartersoccupied by the white people. Every preparation was made for a defencein the event of an attack from the outside or inside. Strict orders weregiven to every one. From this night on, the occupants of the châteauwere to consider themselves in a state of siege, even though the enemymade no open display against them. Every precaution against surprise wastaken. The white servants were moved into rooms adjoining theiremployers; Britt and Saunders transferred their belongings to certaingorgeous apartments; Miss Pelham went into a Marie Antoinette suiteclose by that of the Princess. The native servants retained theircustomary quarters, below stairs. It was a peculiar condition that allof the native servants were men; no women were employed in the greatestablishment, nor ever had been.

Far in the night, Genevra, sleepless and depressed, stole into thehanging garden. Her mind was full of the horrid thing that had happenedto Hollingsworth Chase. He had been nothing to her—he could not havebeen anything to her had he escaped the guns of the assassins. And yether heart was stunned by the stroke that it had sustained. Wide-eyed andsick, she made her way to the railing, and, clinging to the vines,stared for she knew not how long at the dull red glow on the mountain.The flames were gone, but the last red tinge of their anger still clungto the spot where the bungalow had stood. Behind her, there were lightsin a dozen rooms of the château. She knew that she was not the onlysleepless one. Others were lying wide awake and tense, but for reasonsscarcely akin to hers; they were appalled, not heartsick.

The night was still and ominously dark. She had never known a nightsince she came to Japat when the birds and insects were so mute. Asombre, supernatural calm hung over the island like a pall. Far off,over the black sea, pulsed the fitful glow of an occasional gleam oflightning, faint with the distance which it traversed. There was nomoon; the stars were gone; the sky was inky and the air somnolent. Thesmell of smoke hung about her. She could not help wondering if his fine,strong body was lying up there, burnt to a crisp. It was far pastmidnight; she was alone in the garden. Sixty feet below her was theground; above, the black dome of heaven.

She was not to know till long afterward that one of her faithfulThorberg men stood guard in the passage leading up from the garden,armed and willing to die. One or the other slept in front of her doorthrough all those nights on the island.

Something hot trickled down her cheeks from the wide, pitying eyes thatstared so hard. She was wondering now if he had a mother—sisters. Howtheir hearts would be wrenched by this! A mute prayer that he might havedied in the storm of bullets before the fire swept over him struggledagainst the hope that he might have escaped altogether. She was thinkingof him with pity and horror in her heart, not love.

A question was beginning to form itself vaguely in her troubled mind.Were all of them to die as Chase had died?

Suddenly there came to her ears the sound of something swishing throughthe air. An instant later, a solid object fell almost at her feet. Shestarted back with a cry of alarm. A broad shaft of light crossed thegarden, thrown by the lamps in the upper hall of the château. Her eyesfell upon a wriggling, snakelike thing that lay in this path of light.

Fascinated, almost paralysed, she watched it for a full minute beforerealising that it was the end of a thick rope, which lost itself in theheavy shadows at the cliff end of the garden. Looking about in terror,as if expecting to see murderous forms emerge from the shadows, sheturned to flee. At the head of the steps which led downward into thecorridor, she paused for a moment, glancing over her shoulder at themysterious, wriggling thing. She was standing directly in the shaft oflight. To her surprise, the wriggling ceased. The next moment, a faint,subdued shout was borne to her ears. Her flight was checked by thatshout, for her startled, bewildered ears caught the sound of her ownname. Again the shout, from where she knew not, except that it wasdistant; it seemed to come from the clouds.

At last, far above, she saw the glimmer of a light. It was too large tobe a star, and it moved back and forth.

Sharply it dawned upon her that it was at the top of the cliff whichoverhung the garden and stretched away to the sea. Some one was up therewaving a lantern. She was thinking hard and fast, a light breaking inupon her understanding. Something like joy shot into her being. Who elsecould it be if not Chase? He alone would call out her name! He wasalive!

She called out his name shrilly, her face raised eagerly to the bobbinglight. Not until hours afterward was Genevra to resent the use of herChristian name by the man in the clouds.

In her agitation, she forgot to arouse the château, but undertook toascertain the truth for herself. Rushing over, she grasped the knottedend of the rope. A glance and a single tug were sufficient to convinceher that the other end was attached to a support at the top of thecliff. It hung limp and heavy, lifeless. A sharp tug from above causedit to tremble violently in her hands; she dropped it as if it were aserpent. There was something weird, uncanny in its presence, losingitself as it did in the darkness but a few feet above her head. Againshe heard the shout, and this time she called out a question.

"Yes," was the answer, far above. "Can you hear me?" Greatly excited,she called back that she could hear and understand. "I'm coming down therope. Pray for us—but don't worry! Please go inside until we land inthe garden. It's a long drop, you know."

"Are you quite sure—is it safe?" she called, shuddering at the thoughtof the perilous descent of nearly three, hundred feet, sheer through thedarkness.

"It's safer than stopping here. Please go inside."

She dully comprehended his meaning: he wanted to save her from seeinghis fall in the event that the worst should come to pass. Scarcelyknowing what she did, she moved over into the shadow near the walls andwaited breathlessly, all the time wondering why some one did not comefrom the château to lend assistance.

At last that portion of the rope which lay in the garden began to jerkand writhe vigorously. She knew then that he was coming down, hand overhand, through that long, dangerous stretch of darkness. Elsewhere inthis narrative, it has been stated that the cliff reared itself sheer tothe height of three hundred and fifty feet directly behind the château.At the summit of this great wall, a shelving ledge projected over thehanging garden; a rope dangling from this ledge would fall into thegarden not far from the edge nearest the cliff. The summit of the cliffcould be gained only by traversing the mountain slope from the otherside; it was impossible to scale it from the floor of the valley whichit bounded. A wide table-land extended back from the ledge for severalhundred yards and then broke into the sharp, steep incline to the summitof the mountain. This table-land was covered by large, stout trees,thickly grown.

The rope was undoubtedly attached to the trunk of a sturdy tree at thebrow of the cliff.

She could look no longer; it seemed hours since he started from the top.Every heart-beat brought him nearer to safety, but would he hold out?Any instant might bring him crashing to her feet—dead, after all thathe may have lived through during that awful night.

At last she heard his heavy panting, groaning almost; the creaking andstraining of the rope, the scraping of his hands and body. She openedher eyes and saw the bulky, swaying shadow not twenty feet above thegarden. Slowly it drew nearer the grass-covered floor—foot by foot,straining, struggling, gasping in the final supreme effort—and then,with a sudden rush, the black mass collapsed and the taut rope sprungloose, the end switching and leaping violently.

Genevra rushed frantically across the garden, half-fearful, half-joyous.As she came up, the mass seemed to divide itself into two parts. Onesank limply to the ground, the other stood erect for a second and thendropped beside the prostrate, gasping figure.

Chase had come down the rope with another human being clinging to hisbody!

Genevra fell to her knees beside the man who had accomplished thismiracle. She gave but a passing glance at the other dark figure besideher. All of her interest was in the writhing, gasping American. Shegrasped his hands, warm and sticky with blood; she tried to lift hishead from the ground, moaning with pity all the time, uttering words ofencouragement in his ear.

Many minutes passed. At last Chase gave over gasping and began tobreathe regularly but heavily. The strain had been tremendous; onlysuperhuman strength and will had carried him through the ordeal. Hegroaned with pain as the two beside him lifted him to a sitting posture.

"Tell Selim to come ahead," he gasped, his bloody hand at his throat."We're all right!"

Then, for the first time, Genevra peered in the darkness at the figurebeside her. She stared in amazement as it sprang lightly erect andglided across to the patch of light. It was then that she recognised thefigure of a woman—a slight, graceful woman in Oriental garb. The womanturned and lifted her face to the heights from which she had descended.In a shrill, eager voice she called out something in a language strangeto the Princess, who knelt there and stared as if she were looking upona being from another world. A faint shout came from on high, and oncemore the rope began to writhe.

The Princess passed her hand over her eyes, bewildered. The face of thewoman in the light, half-shaded, half-illumined, was gloriouslybeautiful—young, dark, brilliant!

"Oh!" she exclaimed, starting to her feet, a look of understandingcoming into her eyes. This was one of the Persians! He had saved her! Afeeling of revulsion swept over her, combatting the first natural,womanly pride in the deed of a brave man.

Chase struggled weakly to his feet. He saw the tense, strained figurebefore him, and, putting out his hand, said:

"She is Selim's wife. I am stronger than he, so I brought her down."Then looking upward anxiously, he shouted:

"Be careful, Selim! It's easy if you take your time to it."

CHAPTER XX

NEENAH

"Selim's wife, Neenah, saved my life." It was the next morning and Chasewas relating his experiences to an eager marvelling company in thebreakfast room. "She has a sister whose husband was one of the leadersin the attack. Neenah told Selim and Selim told me. That's all. We wereprepared for them when they came last night. Days ago, Selim and Icached the rope at the top of the cliff, anticipating just such anemergency as this, and intending to use it if we could reach the châteauin no other way. I figured that they would cut off all other means ofgetting into your grounds.

"Neenah came up from the village ahead of the attacking party, out ofbreath and terribly frightened. We didn't waste a second, let me tellyou. Grabbing up our guns, we got out through the rear and made a dashacross the stable yard. It was near midnight. I had received thecommittee at nine and had given them my reasons for not resigning thepost. They went away apparently satisfied, which aroused my suspicions.I knew that there was something behind that exhibition of meekness.

"The servants, all of whom were up and ready to join in the fight,attempted to head us off. We had a merry little touch of real warfarejust back of the stables. It was as dark as pitch, and I don't believewe hit anybody. But it was lively scrambling for a minute or two, let metell you." Chase shook his head in sober recollection of the preliminaryaffray.

Deppingham's big blue eyes were fairly snapping. His wife put her handon his shoulder with an impulse strange to her and Genevra saw a lightblaze in her eyes. "I hope you potted a few of 'em. Serve 'em jolly wellright if----"

"Selim says he stumbled over something that groaned as we were racingfor the back road. I was looking out for Neenah." He glancedinvoluntarily from Lady Agnes to the Princess, a touch of confusionsuddenly assailing him. "Selim covered the retreat," he added hastily."Instead of keeping the road, we turned up the embankment and struckinto the forest. Dropping down behind the bushes, we watched thosedevils from the town race pell-mell, howling and shooting, down thechâteau road. There must have been a hundred of 'em. Five minutes later,the bungalow was afire. It was as bright as day and I had no trouble inrecognising Rasula in the crowd. Selim led the way and I followed withNeenah. It was hard going, let me tell you, up hill and down, stumblesand tumbles, scratches and bumps, through five miles of the blackestnight imaginable. Hang it all, Browne, I didn't have time to save thatcase of cigarettes; I'm out nearly a hundred boxes. And those novels youlent me, Lady Deppingham—I can't return. Sorry."

"You might have saved the cigarettes and novels if you hadn't been sooccupied in saving the fair Neenah," said her ladyship, with a provokingsmile.

"Alas! I thought of that also, but too late. Still, virtue was its ownreward. Imagine my delight when we stopped to rest to have Neenah divideher own little store of Turkish cigarettes with me. We had a bully smokeup there in the wood."

"Selim, too?" asked Browne casually.

"Oh, no! Selim was exploring," said Chase easily.

"Neenah is very beautiful," ventured Lady Agnes.

"She is exquisite," replied Chase with the utmost sang froid. "Selimbought her last winter for a ten karat ruby and a pint of sapphires."

"That explains her overwhelming love for Selim," said the Princessquietly. Chase looked into her eyes for a moment and smiled inwardly.

"I'll be happy to tell you all about her some other time," he said. "Herstory is most interesting."

"That will be perfectly delightful," chimed in Drusilla. "We shan't missthose racy novels, after all."

"We finally got to the edge of the cliff and unearthed the rope, whichwe already had fastened to the trunk of a tree. It had been securelyspliced in three places beforehand, giving us the proper length. It wasa frightful trip we had over the ridge. Exhibit: the scratches upon myerstwhile beautiful countenance; reserved: the bruises upon my unhappyknees and elbows. I was obliged to carry Neenah for the last quarter ofa mile, poor little girl. She was tied to my back, leaving my throat andchest free, and down we came. Simplest thing in the world. Presto! Heream I, with my happy family at my heels."

"Well, we can't sit here and dawdle all day," exclaimed Deppingham. "Wemust be moving about—arrange our batteries, and all that, don't youknow. Get out a skirmish line, nominate our spies, bolster up ourdefences, set a watch, court-martial the prisoners, and look into thecommissariat. We've got to stave these devils off for two or threeweeks, at least, and we'll have to look sharp. Browne, that's the thirdcup of coffee you've had. Come along! This isn't Boston."

As they left the breakfast room, Chase stepped to Genevra's side andwalked with her. They traversed the full length of the long hall insilence. At the foot of the stairs, where they were to part, sheextended her hand, a bright smile in her eyes.

"You were and are very brave and good," she said. He withheld his handand she dropped hers, hurt and strangely vexed. "Don't you care for myapproval? Or do you—"

"You forget, Princess, that my hands are still suffering from thebravery you would laud," he said, holding them resolutely behind hisback.

"Oh, I remember!" she cried in quick comprehension. "They were cut andbruised by the rope. How thoughtless of me. What are you doing for them?Come, Mr. Chase, may I not dress them for you? I am capable—I am notafraid of wounds. We have had many of them in our family—and fatal onestoo." She was eager now, and earnest.

He shook his head, with a smile on his lips. "I thank you. They arebetter—much better, and they have been quite properly bandagedalready."

"Neenah?"

"Yes," he replied gently. She seemed to search his mind with a quick,intense look into his eyes. Then she smiled and said: "I'll promise notto bruise the wounds if you'll only be so good as to shake hands withme."

He took her slender hand in his broad, white-swathed palm and pressed itfervently, regardless of the pain which would have caused him to cringeif engaged in any other pursuit.

The forenoon was fully occupied with the preparations for defence. Everyprecaution was taken to circumvent the plans of the enemy. There was nolonger any doubt as to the intentions of the disappointed islanders. VonBlitz and Rasula had convinced them that their cause was seriouslyjeopardised; they were made to see the necessity for permanentlyremoving the white pretenders from their path.

Deppingham, on account of his one time position in the British army, waschosen chief officer of the beleaguered "citadel." A strict espionagewas set upon the native servants, despite Baillo's assurances ofloyalty. Lookouts were posted in the towers and a ceaseless watch was tobe kept day and night. Chase, on his first visit to the west tower,discovered a long unused searchlight of powerful dimensions. Fortunatelyfor the besieged, the electric-light plant was located in the châteaugrounds and could not be tampered with from the outside. A quantity offuel, sufficient to last for a couple of months, was found in the bins.

Britt was put in charge of the night patrol, Saunders the day. Strictorders were given that no one was to venture into that portion of thepark open to long-range shots from the hills. Chase set the minds of allat rest by announcing that the islanders would not seek to set fire tothe château from the cliffs: such avaricious gentlemen as Von Blitz andRasula would never consent to the destruction of property so valuable.Selim, under orders, had severed the long rope with a single rifle shot;no one could hope to reach the château by way of the cliff.

Extra precautions were taken to guard the women from attacks from theinside. The window bars were locked securely and heavy bolts were placedon the doors leading to the lower regions. It was now only too apparentthat Skaggs and Wyckholme had wrought well in anticipation of arebellion by the native shareholders. Each window had its adjustablegrates, every outer door was protected by heavy iron gates.

By nightfall Deppingham's forces were in full possession of everyadvantage that their position afforded. In the cool of the evening, theysat down to rest in the great stone gallery overlooking the sea,satisfied that they were reasonably secure from any assault that theirfoes might undertake. No sign of hostility had been observed during theday. Japat looked, as observed from the château, to be the most peacefulspot in the world.

Chase came from his room, still stiff and sore, but with fresh, whitebandages on his blistered hands. He asked and received permission tolight a cigarette, and then dropped wearily into a seat near thePrincess, who sat upon the stone railing. She was leaning back againstthe column and looking dreamily out across the lowlands toward thestarlit sea. The never-ceasing rush of the mountain stream came plainlyup to them from below; now and then a cool dash of spray floated totheir faces from the waterfall hard by.

The soft light from the shaded windows fell upon her glorious face.Chase sat in silence for many minutes, covertly feasting his eyes uponher loveliness. Her trim, graceful, seductive figure was outlinedagainst the darkness; a delicate, sensuous fragrance exhaled from herperson, filling him with an indescribable delight and languor; the spellof her beauty was upon him and he felt the leap of his blood.

"If I were you," he said at last, reluctant to despoil the picture, "Iwouldn't sit up there. It would be a very simple matter for one of ourfriends to pick you off with a shot from below. Please let me pull up achair for you."

She smiled languidly, without a trace of uneasiness in her manner.

"Dear officer of the day, do you think they are so foolish as to pick usoff in particles? Not at all. They will dispose of us wholesale, not bythe piece. By the way, has Neenah been made quite comfortable?"

"I believe so. She and Selim have the room beyond mine, thanks to LadyDeppingham."

"Agnes tells me that she is very interesting—quite like a princess outof a fairy book. You recall the princesses who were always beingcaptured by ogres and evil princes and afterward satisfactorily rescuedby those dear knights admirable? Did Selim steal her in the beginning?"

"You forget the pot of sapphires and the big ruby."

"They say that princesses can be bought very cheaply."

"Depends entirely upon the quality of princess you desire. It's verymuch like buying rare gems or old paintings, I'd say."

"Very much, I'm sure. I suppose you'd call Neenah a rare gem?"

"She is certainly not an old painting."

"How old is she, pray?"

"Seventeen—by no means an antique. Speaking of princesses and ogres,has it occurred to you that you would bring a fortune in the market?"

"Mr. Chase!"

"You know, it's barely possible that you may be put in a matrimonialshop window if Von Blitz and his friends should capture you alive. Everthink of that?"

"Good heavens! You—why, what a horrible thing to say!"

"You won't bring as much in the South Sea market as you would inRapp-Thorberg or Paris, but I daresay you could be sold for—"

"Please, Mr. Chase, don't suggest anything so atrocious," she cried,something like terror in her voice.

"Neenah's father sold her for a handful of gems," said he, with distinctmeaning in his voice. She was silent, and he went on after a moment. "Isthere so much difference, after all, where one is sold, just so long asthe price is satisfactory to all concerned?"

"You are very unkind, Mr. Chase," she said with quiet dignity. "I do notdeserve your sarcasm."

"I humbly plead for forgiveness," he said, suddenly contrite. "It wasbeastly."

"American wit, I imagine you call it," she said scornfully. "I don'tcare to talk with you any longer."

"Won't you forgive me? I'm a poor brute—don't lash me. In two or threeweeks I'll step down and out of your life; that will be penalty enough,don't you think?"

"For whom?" she asked in a voice so low that he could scarcely hear thewords. Then she laughed ironically. "I do forgive. It is all that aprince or a princess is ever asked to do, I'm beginning to believe. Ialso forgive you for coming into my life."

"If I had been a trifle more intelligent, I should not have come into itat all," he said. She turned upon him quickly, stung by the remark.

"Is that the way you feel about it?" she asked sharply.

"You don't understand. A man of intelligence would never have kickedPrince Karl. As a matter of fact, in trying to kick Prince Karl out ofyour life, I kicked myself into it. A very simple process, and yetscarcely intellectual. A jackass could have done as much."

"A jackass may kick at a king," she paraphrased casually. "A cat mayonly look at him. But let us go back to realities. Do you mean to tellme that they—these wretches—would dare to sell me—us, I mean—intothe kind of slavery you mention?" A trace of anxiety deepened the toneof her voice. She was now keenly alert and no longer trivial.

"Why not?" he asked soberly, arising and coming quite close to her side."You are beautiful. If they should take you alive, it would be a verysimple matter for any one of these men to purchase you from the others.You might easily be kept on this island for the rest of your days, andthe world would be none the wiser. Or you could be sold into Persia, orArabia, or Turkey. I am not surprised that you shudder. Forgive me foralarming you, perhaps needlessly. Nevertheless, it is a thing toconsider. I have learned all of the plans from Selim's wife. They do notcontemplate the connubial traffic, 'tis true, but that would be anatural consequence. Von Blitz and Rasula mean to destroy all of us. Weare to disappear from the face of the earth. When our friends come tolook for us, we will have died from the plague and our bodies will havebeen burned, as they always are in Japat. There will be no one left todeny the story. All outsiders are to be destroyed—even the Persian andTurkish women, who hate their liege lords too well. After to-morrow, noship is due to put in here for three weeks. They will see to it thatnone of us get out to that ship; nor will the ship's officers know ofour peril. The word will go forth that the plague has come to theisland. That is the first step, your highness. But there is one obstaclethey have overlooked," he concluded. She looked up inquiringly.

"My warships," he said, the whimsical smile broadening.

CHAPTER XXI

THE PLAGUE IS ANNOUNCED

The next morning, a steamship flying the English flag came to anchor offAratat, delivered and received mail bags, and after an hour's staysteamed away in the drift of the southeast trade winds, Bombay to CapeColony. The men at the château gazed longingly, helplessly through theirglasses at this black hulled visitor from the world they loved; theywatched it until nothing was left to be seen except the faint cloud ofsmoke that went to a pin point in the horizon. There had been absolutelyno opportunity to communicate with the officers of the ship; they sailedaway hurriedly, as if in alarm. Their haste was significant.

"I guess we'd better not tell the women," said Bobby Browne, heaving adeep sigh. "It won't add to their cheerfulness if they hear that a shiphas called here."

"It couldn't matter in any event," said Deppingham. "We've got to stickhere two weeks longer, no matter how many ships call. I'm demmed if I'llfunk now, after all these rotten months."

"Perhaps Bowles succeeded in getting a word with the officer who cameashore," said Browne hopefully. "He knows the danger we are in."

"My dear Browne, Bowles hadn't the ghost of a chance to communicate withthe ship," said Chase. "He can't bully 'em any longer with his TommyAtkins coat. They've outgrown it, just as he has. It was splendid whileit lasted, but they're no more afraid of it now than they are of mywarships. I wish there was some way to get him and his Englishassistants into the château. It's awful to think of what is coming tothem, sooner or later."

"Good God, Chase, is there no way to help them?" groaned Deppingham.

"I'll never forget poor Bowles, the first time I saw him in his dinkyred jacket and that Hooligan cap of his," reflected Chase, as if he hadnot heard Deppingham's remark. "He put them on and tried to overawe thecrowd that night when I was threatened in the market-place. He did hisbest, poor chap, and I----"

"Look!" exclaimed Britt suddenly, pointing toward one of the big gatesin the upper end of the park. "I believe they're making an attack!"

The next instant the men in the balcony were leaving it pell-mell,picking up the ever-ready rifles as they dashed off through the hallsand out into the park. What they had seen at the gate—which was onerarely used—was sufficient to demand immediate action on their part; ademonstration of some sort was in progress at this particular entranceto the grounds. Saunders was left behind with instructions to guard thechâteau against assault from other sources. Headed by Chase, the fourmen hurried across the park, prepared for an encounter at the gate. Theykept themselves as well covered as possible by the boxed trees, althoughup to this time there had been no shooting.

Chase, in advance, suddenly gave vent to a loud cry and boldly dashedout into the open, disregarding all shelter. Two of the native parkpatrol were hastening toward the gate from another direction. Outsidethe huge, barred gate a throng of men and women were congregated. Someof the men were vigorously slashing away at the bars with sledges andcrow-bars; others were crouching with rifles levelled—in the otherdirection!

"It's Bowles!" shouted Chase eagerly.

The situation at once became clear to those inside the walls. Bowles andhis friends, a score all told, had managed to reach the upper gate andwere now clamouring for admission, beset on all sides by the pickets whowere watching the château. Bowles, with his pathetic red jacket, couldbe distinguished in the midst of his huddled followers, shoutingfrantically for haste on the part of those inside. Some one was waving awhite flag of truce. A couple of shots were fired from the forest above,and there were screams from the frightened women, shouts from the men,who had ceased battering the gates at the signs of rescue from within.

"For God's sake, be quick," shouted Bowles. "There's a thousand of themcoming up the mines' road!"

The gates were unlocked by the patrol and the panic-stricken throngtumbled through them and scattered like sheep behind the high,sheltering walls. Once more the massive gates were closed and the boltsthrown down, just in time to avoid a fusillade of bullets from theoutside. It was all over in a minute. A hundred throats emitted shoutsof rage, curses and threats, and then, as if by magic, the forest becameas still as death.

Once inside the château, the fugitives, shivering with terror, fairlycollapsed. There were three Englishmen in the party besides Bowles,scrubby, sickly chaps, but men after all. It was with unfeigned surprisethat Chase recognised the Persian wives of Jacob von Blitz among thewomen who had been obliged to cast their lot with the refugees fromAratat. The sister of Neenah and five or six other women who had beensold into the island made up the remainder of the little group oftrembling females. Their faces were veiled; their persons were bedeckedwith all of the gaudy raiment and jewels that their charms had won fromtheir liege lords. They were slaves, these Persians and Turks andEgyptians, but they came out of bondage with the trophies of queensstuck in their hair, in their ears, on their hands and arms and abouttheir waists and throats.

The remainder of the men in the party, fourteen or fifteen in all, wereof many castes and nationalities, and of various ages. There werebrown-skinned fellows from Calcutta, a couple of sturdy Greeks, anEgyptian and a Persian, three or four Assyrians and as many Maori. As totheir walks in life: among them were clerks and guards from the bank,members of the native constabulary, Indian fakirs and showmen, andvenders of foreign gewgaws.

Bowles, his thin legs still shaking perceptibly, although he strovemightily to hold them at strict "attention," was the spokesman. Avaliant heart thumped once more against the seams of the little redjacket; if his hand trembled and his voice shook, it was because of theunwonted exertion to which both had been put in that stirring flight atdawn. He had eager, anxious listeners about him, too—and of thenobility. Small wonder that his knees were intractable.

"For some time we have been preparing for the outbreak," he said,fingering the glass of brandy that Britt had poured for him. "Ever sinceChase began to go in so noticeably for the ladies—ahem!"

Chase glared at him. The others tittered.

"I don't mean the old story, sir, of the Persians—and I'm saying, sir,what's more, there wasn't a word of truth in it—I mean the ladies ofthe château, begging pardon, too. Von Blitz came to me often withcomplaints that you were being made a fool of by a pretty face or two,and that you were going over to the enemy, body and soul. Of course, Istood out for you, sir. It wasn't any use. They'd made up their minds toget rid of you. When I heard that they tried to kill you the nightbefore last, I made up my mind that no white man was to be left to tellthe tale. Last night we locked all the company's books in the vaults,got together all the banknotes and gold we had on hand, and madepreparations to go on board the steamer when she called this morning. Myplan was to tell them of the trouble here and try to save you. We wereall expected to die of the plague, that's what we were, and I realisedthat Tommy Atkins was off the boards forever.

"We hadn't any more than got the cash and valuables ready to smuggleaboard, when down came Rasula upon us. Ten o'clock last night, yourlordship. That's what it was—ten P.M. He had a dozen men with him andhe told every mother's son of us that our presence in the town was notdesired until after the ship had sailed away. We were ordered to leavethe town and go up into the hills under guard. There wasn't any chanceto fight or argue. We said we'd go, but we'd have the government on themfor the outrage. We left the rooms in the bank building, carrying awaywhat money we could well conceal. Later we were joined by the other menyou found with us, all of whom had refused to join in the outrage.

"We were taken up into the hills by a squad of men. There wasn't a manamong us that didn't know that we were to be killed as soon as the shiphad gone. With our own eyes, we saw the mail bags rifled, and nearly allof the mail destroyed. The pouches from the château were burned. Rasulapolitely informed us that the plague had broken out among the châteauservants and that no mail could be sent out from that place. He said heintended to warn the ship's officer of the danger in landing and—well,that explains the short stay of the ship and the absence of nearly allmail from the island. We had no means of communicating with theofficers. There won't be another boat for three weeks, and they won'tland because of the plague. They will get word, however, that every onein the château has died of the disease, and that scores of natives aredying every day.

"Well, we decided to break away from the guard and try to get to thechâteau. It was our only chance. It was their intention to take some ofus back to the bank this morning to open the vault and the safes. Thatwas to be our last act, I fancy. I think it was about four this morningwhen a dozen of the women came up to where we were being held. They wereflying from the town and ran into the arms of our guard before they knewof their presence. It seems that those devils down there had set out tokill their women because it was known that one of them had warned Mr.Chase of his danger. According to the women who came with us, at least ascore of these unlucky wives were strangled. Von Blitz's wives succeededin getting word to a few of their friends and they fled.

"During the excitement brought about by their arrival in our camp, wemade a sudden attack upon our guards. They were not expecting it and wehad seized their rifles before they could recover from their surprise. Iregret to say that we were obliged to kill a few of them in the row thatfollowed. But that is neither here nor there. We struck off for thelower park as lively as possible. The sun was well up, and we had notime to lose. We found the gates barred and went on to the upper gates.You let us in just in time. The alarm had gone back to the town and wecould see the mob coming up the mines' road. My word, it was a closeshave."

He mopped his brow with trembling hand and smiled feebly at hiscountrymen for support. The colour was coming back into their faces andthey could smile with the usual British indifference.

"A very close shave, my crimes!" vouchsafed the stumpy gentleman whokept the books at the bank.

"It's an ill wind that blows all evil," said Deppingham. "Mr. Bowles,you are most welcome. We were a bit short of able-bodied soldiers. Maywe count on you and the men who came with you?"

"To the end, my lord," said Bowles, almost bursting his jacket byinflation. The others slapped their legs staunchly.

"Then, we'll all have breakfast," announced Lord Deppingham. "Mr.Saunders, will you be good enough to conduct the recruits to quarters?"

The arrival of the refugees from Aratat gave the château a staunchlittle garrison, not counting the servants, whose loyalty was anuncertain quantity. The stable men in the dungeon below served asillustrations of what might be expected of the others, despite theirprofession of fidelity. Including the house servants, who, perforce,were loyal, there was an able-bodied garrison of sixty men. Afterluncheon, Deppingham called his forces together. He gave freshinstructions, exacted staunch promises, and heard reports from all ofhis aides. The château by this time had been made practicallyimpregnable to attack from the outside.

"For the time being we are as snug as bugs in a rug," said Deppingham,when all was over. "Shall we rejoin the ladies, gentlemen?" He was ascalm as a May morning.

The three leaders found the ladies in the shaded balcony, lounginglazily as if no such thing as danger existed. Below them in the grassycourtyard, a dozen indolent, sensuous Persians were congregated, lyingabout in the shade with all the abandon of absolute security. The threewomen in the balcony had been watching them for an hour, commentingfreely upon these creatures from another world. Neenah, the youngest andprettiest of them all, had wafted kisses to the proud dames above. Shehad danced for their amusem*nt. Her companions sat staring at the ladiesat the railing, dark eyes peering with disdain above the veils which hidtheir faces.

Lady Agnes waved her hand lazily toward the group below, sending amocking smile to Chase. "The Asiatic plague," she said cheerfully.

"The deuce," broke in her husband, not catching her meaning. "Has itreally broken out—"

"Deppy, you are the dumbest creature I know," exclaimed his wife.

Chase smiled broadly. "She refers to the newly acquired harem, LordDeppingham. We're supposed to die with the Asiatic plague, not to—notto—"

"Not to live with it! Ho, ho, I see, by Jove!" roared Deppinghamamiably. "Splendid! Harem! I get the point. Ripping!"

"They're not so bad, are they, Bobby?" asked Lady Agnes coolly, going toBrowne's side at the railing. Chase hesitated a moment and then walkedover to Drusilla Browne, who was looking pensively into the courtyardbelow. He was sorry for her. She laughed and chatted with him for tenminutes, but there was a strained note in her voice that did not escapehis notice. It may not have been true that Browne was in love with LadyDeppingham, but it was more than evident that his wife felt convincedthat he was.

"Splendid!" was the sudden exclamation of Drusilla's vagrant lord. Theothers looked up, interested. "Say, everybody, Lady Agnes and I have hitupon a ripping scheme. It's great!"

"To better our position?" asked Deppingham.

"Position? What—oh, I see. Not exactly. What do you say to a charityball, the proceeds to go to the survivors of the plague we're expectedto have?"

The Princess gave a quick, involuntary look at Chase's face. Browne'stall fellow-countryman was now leaning against the rail beside herchair. She saw a look of surprised amusem*nt flit across his face,succeeded almost instantly by a hard, dark frown of displeasure. Hewaited a moment and then looked down at her with unmistakable shame anddisapproval in his eyes. Bobby Browne was going on volubly about thecharity ball, Deppingham listening with a fair show of tolerance.

"We might just as well be merry while we can," he was saying. "Think ofwhat the French did at the time of the Commune. They danced and diedlike ladies and gentlemen. And our own forefathers, Chase, at the timeof the American Revolution—remember them, too. They gave their ballsand parties right under the muzzles of British cannon. AndVicksburg—New Orleans, too—in the Civil War! Think of 'em! Whyshouldn't we be as game and as gay as they?"

"But they were earnest in their distractions," observed Deppingham, witha glance at his wife's eager face. "This could be nothing more than atravesty, a jest."

"Oh, let us be sports," cried Lady Agnes, falling into an Americanismreadily. "It may be a jest, but what odds? Something to kill time with."

Chase and the Princess watched Deppingham's expressionless face as helistened to his wife and Bobby Browne. They were talking ofarrangements. He looked out over the roof of the opposite wing, beyondthe group of Persians, and nodded his head from time to time. There wasno smile on his lips, however.

"I don't like Mr. Browne," whispered Genevra suddenly. Chase did notreply. She waited a moment and then went on. "He is not like Deppingham.Do you understand?"

Lady Deppingham came over to them at that instant, her eyes sparkling.

"It's to be to-night," she said. "A fashionable charity ball—everythingexcept the newspaper accounts, don't you know. Committees and all that.It's short notice, of course, but life may be short. We'll have Arabacrobatics, Persian dances, a grand march, electric lights andabsolutely no money to distribute. That's the way it usually is. Now,Mr. Chase, don't look so sour! Be nice, please!" She put her hand on hisarm and smiled up at him so brightly that he could not hold out againsther. She caught the touch of disapproval in Genevra's glance, and asharp, quick flash of rebellion came into her own eyes—a stubborn linestopped for an instant at the corners of her mouth.

"What is a charity ball?" asked Genevra after a moment.

"A charity ball is a function where one set of women sit in the boxesand say nasty things about the women on the floor, and those on thefloor say horrid things about the women in the boxes. It's great fun."

"Charity is simply a hallucination, then?"

"Yes, but don't mention it aloud. Mr. Britt is trying with might andmain to prove that Bobby and I have hallucinations without end. If Ihappen to look depressed at breakfast time, he jots it down—spells ofdepression and melancholia, do you see? He's a dreadful man."

Saunders was approaching from the lower end of the balcony. He appearedflustered. His face was red and perspiring and his manner distrait.Saunders, since his failure to establish the advantages of polygamy, hadshrunk farther into the background than ever, quite unlike Britt, whohad not lost confidence in the divorce laws. The sandy-haired solicitorwas now exhibiting symptoms of unusual discomfiture.

"Well, Saunders?" said Deppingham, as the lawyer stopped to clear histhroat obsequiously.

"I have found sufficient food of all descriptions, sir, to last for amonth, at least," said Saunders, in a strained, unnatural voice.

"Good! Has Miss Pelham jilted you, Saunders?" He put the question in ajocular way. Its effect on Saunders was startling. His face turnedalmost purple with confusion.

"No, sir, she has not, sir," he stammered.

"Beg pardon, Saunders. I didn't mean to offend. Where is she, pray, withthe invoice?"

"I'm—I'm sure I don't know, sir," responded Saunders, striving toregain his dignity.

"Have a cigarette, Deppy?" interposed Browne, seeing that something wasamiss with Saunders. In solemn order the silver box went the rounds.Drusilla alone refused to take one. Her husband looked surprised.

"Want one, Drusie?"

"No, thank you, Bobby," she said succinctly. "I've stopped. I don'tthink it's womanly."

Lady Deppingham's hand was arrested with the match half way to her lips.She looked hard at Drusilla for a moment and then touched the lightserenely to her cigarette.

"Pooh!" was all that she said. Genevra did not light hers at all.

Saunders spoke up, as if suddenly recollecting something. "I have alsoto report, sir, that the stock of cigarettes is getting very low. Theycan't last three days at this rate, sir."

The three men stared at him.

"Good Lord!" exclaimed Chase, who could face any peril and relish theexperience if needs be, but who now foresaw a sickening deprivation."You can't mean it, Saunders?"

"I certainly do, sir. The mint is holding out well, though, sir. I thinkit will last."

"By George, this is a calamity," groaned Chase. "How is a man to fightwithout cigarettes?"

Genevra quietly proffered the one she had not lighted, a quizzical smilein her eyes.

"My contribution to the cause," she said gaily. "What strange creaturesmen are! You will go out and be shot at all day and yet—" she pausedand looked at the cigarette as if it were entitled to reverence.

"It does seem a bit silly, doesn't it?" lamented the stalwart Chase.Then he took the cigarette.

CHAPTER XXII

THE CHARITY BALL

They were not long in finding out what had happened to Saunders. Afterluncheon, while Browne and the three ladies were completing thepreparations for the entertainment. Miss Pelham appeared beforeDeppingham and Chase in the former's headquarters. She had asked for aninterview and was accompanied by Mr. Britt.

"Lord Deppingham," she began, seating herself coolly before the two men,her eyes dark with decision, "I approach you as the recognised head ofthis establishment. I shan't detain you long. My attorney, Mr. Britt,will explain matters to you after I have retired. He—"

"Your attorney? What does this mean?" gasped Deppingham, visions ofblackmail in mind. "What's up, Britt? I deny every demmed word of it,whatever it is!"

"Just a little private affair," murmured Britt, uncomfortably.

"Private?" sniffed Miss Pelham, involuntarily rearranging her hat. "Ithink it has been quite public, Mr. Britt. That's the trouble." LordDeppingham looked worried and Chase had the feeling that some wretcheddisclosure was about to be made by the sharp-tongued young woman. Helooked at her with a hard light in his eyes. She caught the glance andstared back for a moment defiantly. Then she appeared to remember thatshe always had longed for his good opinion—perhaps, she had dreamed ofsomething more—and her eyes fell; he saw her lip tremble. "I've simplycome to ask Lord Deppingham to stand by me. Mr. Saunders is in hisemploy—or Lady Deppingham's, I should say—"

"Which is the same thing," interposed Deppingham, drawing a deeperbreath. He had been trying to recollect if he ever had said anything toMiss Pelham that might not appear well if repeated.

"Mr. Saunders has deceived me," she announced steadily. "I leave it toyou if his attentions have not been most pronounced. Of course, if Iwanted to, I could show you a transcript of everything he has said to mein the last couple of months. He didn't know it, but I managed to getmost everything down in shorthand. I did it at the risk, too, yourlordship, of being considered cold and unresponsive by him. It's mostdifficult to take conversation without the free use of your hands, Imust say. But I've preserved in my own black and white, every promise hemade and—"

"I'm afraid it won't be good evidence," volunteered her lawyer. "It willhave to be substantiated, my dear."

"Please don't call me 'my dear,' Mr. Britt. Never you mind about it notbeing good evidence. Thomas Saunders won't enjoy hearing it read incourt, just the same. What I want to ask of you, Lord Deppingham, as afriend, is to give Mr. Britt your deposition regarding Mr. Saunders'sattitude toward me, to the best of your knowledge and belief. I'll takeit verbatim and put it into typewriting, free of charge. I—I don't seeanything to laugh at, Mr. Chase!" she cried, flushing painfully.

"My dear girl," he said, controlling himself, "I think you aremisjudging the magnitude of a lover's quarrel. Don't you think it israther a poor time to talk breach of promise with the guns of an enemyready to take a pop at us at any moment?"

"It's no worse than a charity ball, Mr. Chase," she said severely."Charity begins at home, gentlemen, and I'm here to look out for myself.No one else will, let me tell you that. I want to get the deposition ofevery person in the château. They can be sworn to before Mr. Bowles, whois a magistrate, I'm told. He can marry people and—"

"By Jove!" exclaimed Deppingham suddenly. "Can he? Upon my soul!"

"His manner changed as soon as that horrid little wife of Selim came tothe château. I don't like the way she makes eyes at him and I told himso this morning, down in the storerooms. My, but he flew up! He saidhe'd be damned if he'd marry me." She began to use her handkerchiefvigorously. The men smiled as they looked away.

"I—I intend to sue him for breach of promise," she said thickly.

"Is it as bad as all that?" asked Deppingham consolingly.

"What do you mean by 'bad as all that'? He's kissed me time and again,but that's all."

"I'll send for Saunders," said Deppingham sternly.

"Not while I'm here," she exclaimed, getting up nervously.

"Just as you like, Miss Pelham. I'll send for you after we've talked itover with Saunders. We can't afford a scandal in the château, don't youknow."

"No, I should think not," she said pointedly. Then she looked at Chaseand winked, with a meaning nod at the unobserving Deppingham. Chasefollowed her into the hall.

"None of that, Miss Pelham," he said severely.

Saunders came in a few minutes later, nervous and uncomfortable.

"You sent for me, my lord," he said weakly.

"Sit down, Saunders. Your knees seem to be troubling you. Miss Pelham isgoing to sue you for breach of promise."

"Good Lord!"

"What have you promised her, sir?"

"That I wouldn't marry her, that's all, sir," floundered Saunders."She's got no right to presume, sir. Gentlemen always indulge in littleaffairs—flirtations, I might say, sir—it's most common. Of course, Ithought she'd understand."

"Don't you love her, Saunders?"

"Oh, I say, my lord, that's rather a pointed question. My word, it is,sir! There may have been a bit of—er—well, you know—between us, sir,but—that's all, that's quite all. Absurdly all, 'pon my soul."

"Saunders," said Britt solemnly, "I am her attorney. Be careful what yousay in my presence."

"Britt," said Saunders distinctly, "you are a blooming traitor! You toldme yourself that she was used to all that sort of thing and wouldn'tmind. Now, see what you do? It's—it's outrageous!" He was half intears. Then turning to Deppingham, he went on fiercely, "I won't bebullyragged by any woman, sir. We got along beautifully until she beganto shy figurative pots at me because Selim's wife looked at meoccasionally. Hang it all, sir, I can't help it if the ladies choose tolook at me. Minnie—Miss Pelham—was perfectly silly about it. GoodLord," he groaned in recollection. "It was a very trying scene she made,sir. More than ever, it made me realise that I can't marry beneath me.You see, my lord, we've got a fairish sort of social position outHammersmith way—as far out as Putney, I might say, where we have ratherswell friends, my mother and I—and I don't think—"

"Saunders," said Lord Deppingham sternly, "she loves you. I don'tunderstand why or how, but she does. Just because you have obtained anexalted social position at Hammersmith Bridge is no reason you shouldbecome a snob. I daresay she stands just as well at Brooklyn Bridge asyou do at Hammersmith. She's a fine girl and would be an adornment toyou, such as Hammersmith could be proud of. If you want my candidopinion, Saunders, I think you're a silly ass!"

"Do you really, my lord?" quite humbly.

"Shall I prove it to you by every man on the place? Miss Pelham is quitegood enough for any one of us. I'd be proud to have her as my wife—if Ilived at Hammersmith Bridge."

"You amaze me, sir!"

"She's a very pretty girl," volunteered Chase glibly.

"Oh, she could marry like a flash in New York," said Britt. "A dozen menI know of are crazy about her. Good-looking chaps, too," The sarcasmescaped Saunders, who was fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Of course—you know—the breaking of the engagement—I should say therow, wasn't of my doing," he submitted, pulling at his finger jointsnervously.

"I'm afraid it can't be patched up, either," said Britt dolefully."She's been insulted, you see—"

"Insulted? My eye! I wouldn't say anything to hurt her for the world. Imay have been agitated—very likely I said a sharp word or two. But asfor insulting her—never! She's told me herself a thousand times thatshe doesn't mind the word 'damn' in the least. That may have misledme—"

"Saunders, we can't have our only romance marred by a breach of promisesuit," said his lordship resolutely. "There is simply got to be awedding in the end or the whole world will hate us. Every romance musthave its young lovers, and even though it doesn't run smooth, love willtriumph. So far you have been our prize young lover. You are theundisputed hero. Don't spoil everything at the last moment, Saunders.Patch it up, and let's have a wedding in the last chapter. You shouldnot forget that it was you who advocated multi-marriage. Try it once foryourself, and, if you like it, by Jove, we'll all come to yoursucceeding marriages and bless you, no matter how many wives you takeunto yourself."

Saunders, very much impressed by these confidences, bowed himself out ofthe room, followed by Britt, of whom he implored help in the effort tobring about a reconciliation. He was sorely distressed by Britt'sapparent reluctance to compromise the case without mature deliberation.

"You see, old chap," mused Deppingham, after their departure, "matrimonyis no trifling thing, after all. No matter whether it contemplates agarden in Hammersmith or an island in the South Seas, it has itsdrawbacks."

The charity ball began at ten o'clock, schedule time. If all of thosewho participated were not in perfect sympathy with the spirit of the madwhim, they at least did not deport themselves after the fashion of wetblankets. To be quite authentic, but two of the promoters were heartilyinvolved in the travesty—Lady Agnes, whose sprightliness was neverdormant, and Bobby Browne, who shone in the glamour of his firstencounter with the nobility. Drusilla Browne, asserting herself as anAmerican matron, insisted that the invitation list should include thelowly as well as the mighty. She had her way, and as a result, the bankemployés, the French maids, Antoine and the two corporals ofRapp-Thorberg's Royal Guard appeared on the floor in the grand marchdirectly behind Mr. Britt, Mr. Saunders, and Miss Pelham.

"One cannot discriminate at the charity ball," Drusilla had stoutlymaintained. "The hoi polloi and the riff-raff always get in at home.So, why not here? If we're going to have a charity ball, let's give itthe correct atmosphere."

"I shall feel as if I were dancing with my green grocer," lamented LadyAgnes. Later on, when the dancing was at its height, she exclaimed withall the fervour of a charmed imagination: "I feel as the duch*ess deWhat's-her-name must have felt, Bobby, when she danced all night at herown ball, and then dressed for the guillotine instead of going to bed.We may all be shot in the morning."

The Indian fakirs and showmen gave a performance in the courtyard atmidnight. They were followed by the Bedouin tumblers and the inspiredPersians, who danced with frantic abandon and the ripe lust of joy.There was but one unfortunate accident. Mr. Rivers, formerly of thebank, got very tight and fell down the steps leading to the courtyard,breaking his left arm.

Lord Deppingham and Chase kept their heads. They saw to it that thewatch over the grounds and about the château was strictly maintained.The former led the grand march with the Princess. She was moreravishingly beautiful than ever. Her gown, exquisitely cool and simple,suggested that indefinable, unmistakable touch of class that alwaysmarks the distinction between the woman who subdues the gown and thegown which subdues the woman.

Hollingsworth Chase was dazzled. He discovered, much to his subsequentamusem*nt, that he was holding his breath as he stared at her from theopposite side of the banquet hall, which had been transformed into aballroom. She had just entered with the Deppinghams. Something seemed toshout coarsely, scoffingly in his ear: "Now, do you realise the distancethat lies between? She was made for kings and princes, not for such asyou!"

He waited long before presenting himself in quest of the dance hehungered for so greedily—afraid of her! She greeted him with a new,brighter light in her eyes; a quiver of delight, long in restraint, cameinto her voice; he saw and felt the welcome in her manner.

The blood surged to his head; he mumbled his request. Then, for thefirst time, he was near to holding her close in his arms—he wasclasping her fingers, touching her waist, drawing her gently toward hisheart. Once, as they swept around the almost empty ballroom, she lookedup into his eyes. Neither had spoken. His lips parted suddenly and hisfingers closed down upon hers. She saw the danger light in his eyes andknew the unuttered words that struggled to his lips and stopped there.She never knew why she did it, but she involuntarily shook her headbefore she lowered her eyes. He knew what she meant. His heart turnedcold again and the distance widened once more to the old proportions.

He left her with Bobby Browne and went out upon the cool, starlitbalcony. There he gently cursed himself for a fool, a dolt, an idiot.

The shouts of laughter and the clapping of hands on the inside did notdraw him from his unhappy reverie. He did not know until afterward thatthe official announcement of the engagement of Miss Minnie Pelham andThomas Saunders was made by Bobby Browne and the health of the coupledrunk in a series of bumpers.

Chase's bitter reflections were at last disturbed by a sound that camesharply to his attention. He was staring moodily into the night, hiscigarette drooping dejectedly in his lips. The noise came from directlybelow where he stood. He peered over the stone railing. The terrace wasbarely ten feet below him; a mass of bushes fringed the base of thewall, dark, thick, fragrant. Some one was moving among these stubbornbushes; he could hear him plainly. The next moment a dark figure shotout from the shadows and slunk off into night, followed by another andanother and yet others, seven in all. Chase's mind refused to workquickly. He stood as one petrified for a full minute, unable to at oncegrasp the meaning of the performance.

Then the truth suddenly dawned upon him. The prisoners had escaped fromthe dungeon!

He dashed into the ballroom and shouted the alarm. Confusion ensued. Hecalled out sharp commands as he rushed across to where Deppingham waschatting with the Princess.

"There's been treachery," he explained quickly. "Some one has releasedthe prisoners. We must keep them from reaching the walls. They willoverpower our guards and open the gates to the enemy. Britt, see thatthe searchlight is trained on the gates. We must stop those fellowsbefore it is too late. Time enough to hunt for the traitor later on!"

Two minutes later, a swarm of armed men forsook the mock charity balland sallied forth to engage in realities. Firing was soon heard at thewestern gate, half a mile away. Thither, the eager pursuers rushed. Thewide ray from the searchlight swung down upon this gate and revealed theforms of struggling men.

The prisoners had fallen suddenly upon the two Greeks who guarded thewestern gate, surprising them cleverly. The Greeks fought for theirlives, but were overwhelmed in plain view of the relief party whichraced toward them. Both fell under the clubbed guns of theiradversaries.

Chase and Selim were not more than a hundred yards away when thedesperate Greeks went down. The blinding glare of the searchlight aidedthe pursuers, who kept outside its radius. The fugitives, bewildered,confused by the bright glare in which they found themselves, faced thelight boldly, five of them kneeling with guns raised to protect theirtwo companions who started across the narrow strip which separated themfrom the massive gate. Selim gave a shout and stopped suddenly, throwinghis rifle to his shoulder.

"They have the keys!" he cried. "Shoot!"

His rifle cracked a second later and one of the two men leaped into theair and fell like a log. Chase understood the necessity for quick workand fired an instant later. The second man fell in a heap, thirty feetfrom the gate. His companions returned the fire at random in thedirection from which the well-aimed shots had come.

"Under cover!" shouted Chase. He and Selim dropped into the shrubbery intime to escape a withering fire from outside the gates. The searchlightrevealed a compact mass of men beyond the walls. It was then that theinsiders realised how near they had come to being surprised anddestroyed. A minute more, and the gates would have been opened to thismerciless horde.

The prisoners, finding themselves trapped, threw themselves upon theground and shrieked for mercy. Lord Deppingham and the others came upand, scattering well, began to fire at the mass outside the wall. Theislanders were at a disadvantage. They could not locate the opposingmarksmen on account of the blinding light in their faces. It was but amoment before they were scampering off into the dark wood, shriekingwith rage.

The five fugitives were compelled to carry their fallen comrades and thetwo Greeks from the open space in front of the gates to a point where itwas safe for the defenders to approach them without coming in line witha possible volley from the forest.

A small force was left to guard the gate; the remainder returned asquickly as possible to the château. The Greeks were unconscious, badlybattered by the clubbed guns. Browne, once more the doctor, attendedthem and announced that they would be on their feet in a day or two—"ifcomplications don't set in." One of the prisoners was dead, shot throughthe heart by the deadly Selim. The other had a shattered shoulder.

Immediately upon the return to the château, an inspection of thedungeons was made, prior to an examination of the servants in the effortto apprehend the traitor.

The three men who went down into the damp, chill regions below groundsoon returned with set, pale faces. There had been no traitor!

The man whose duty it was to guard the prisoners was found lying insidethe big cell, his throat cut from ear to ear, stone dead!

There was but one solution. He had been seized from within as he came tothe grating in response to a call. While certain fingers choked him intosilence, others held his hands and still others wrenched the keys fromhis sash. After that it was easy. Deppingham, Chase and Selim looked ateach other in horror—and, strange as it may seem, relief.

Death was there, but, after all, Death is no traitor.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE JOY OF TEMPTATION

The revolting details were kept from the women. They were not permittedto know of the ugly thing that sweltered in the dark corridor belowtheir very feet. Late in the night, a small body of men, acting underorders, carried the unfortunate guard down into the valley and buriedhim. Only the most positive stand on the part of the white men preventedthe massacre of the prisoners by the friends and fellow-servants of themurdered man. A secret trial by jury, at a later day, was promised byLord Deppingham.

There was but little sleep in the château that night. The charity ballwas forgotten—or if recalled at all, only in connection with thethought of what it came so near to costing its promoters.

No further disturbances occurred. A strict watch was preserved; thepicturesque drawbridge was lifted and there were lights on the terraceand galleries; men slept within easy reach of their weapons. The siegehad begun in earnest. Men had been slain and their blood was crying outfor vengeance; the voice of justice was lost in the clamourings of rage.

Breakfast found no laggards; the lazy comforts of the habitually latewere abandoned for the more stirring interests that had come to occupythe time and thoughts of all concerned. The Princess was quite serene.She lightly announced that the present state of affairs was no worsethan that which she was accustomed to at home. The court ofRapp-Thorberg was ever in a state of unrest, despite its outwardsuggestion of security. Outbreaks were common among the masses; somehow,they were suppressed before they grew large enough to be noticed by thewide world.

"We invariably come out on top," she philosophised, "and so shall wehere. At home we always eat, drink and make merry, for to-morrow nevercomes."

"That's all very nice," said Lady Agnes plaintively, "but I'm thinkingof yesterday. Those fellows who were killed can't die to-morrow, youknow; it occurred to them yesterday. It's always yesterday after onedies."

Soon after breakfast was over, Chase announced his intention to visiteach of the gates in turn. The Princess strolled with him as far as thebridge at the foot of the terrace. They stopped in the shade of a clumpof trees that hung upon the edge of the stream. As they were gravelydiscussing the events of the night, Neenah came up to them from beyondthe bridge. Her dark, brilliant face was glowing with excitement; thecheerful adoration that one sees in a dog's eyes shone in hers as shesalaamed gracefully to the "Sahib." She had no eyes for royalty.

"Excellency," she began breathlessly, "it is Selim who would haveprivate speech with the most gracious sahib. It is to be quick,excellency. Selim is under the ground, excellency."

"In the cellars?"

"Yes, excellency. It is so dark there that one cannot see, but Neenahwill lead you. Selim has sent me. But come now!"

Chase felt his ears burn when he turned to find a delicate, significantsmile on Genevra's lips. "Don't let me detain you," she said, ever sopolitely.

"Wait, please!" he exclaimed. "Is Selim hurt?" he demanded of Neenah,who shook her head vigorously.

"Then, there is no reason why you should not accompany us. Princess."

"I am not at all necessary to the undertaking," she said coldly, turningto leave him.

"Selim has found fuses and gunpowder laid in the cellars, excellency—inthe secret vaults," began Neenah eagerly, divining the cause of thewhite lady's hesitation.

This astounding piece of news swept away the feeble barrier Genevrawould have erected in her pique. Eagerly she joined in questioning thePersian girl, but Neenah would only reply that Selim was waiting for thesahib. The Princess was immeasurably consoled to find that thebody-servant had destroyed the fuses and that they were in no immediatedanger of being blown to pieces. She consented to accompany Chase intothe cellars, a spirit of adventure overcoming certain scruples whichmight have restrained her under other conditions.

Neenah led them through the wine cellars and down into the vaults beyondthe dungeons. They descended three steep flights of stone steps, intothe cold, damp corridors of the lowermost cellars. Neenah explained thatit was necessary to move cautiously and without lights. Selim wasconfident that there was at least one traitor among the servants. ThePrincess clutched Chase's hand tightly as they stole through the bleak,chill corridor; she found herself wondering if the girl was to betrusted. What if she were leading them into a trap? She would havewhispered her fears into Chase's ear had not a sharp "sh!" come from thegirl who was leading. Genevra felt a queer little throb of hatred forthe girl—she could not explain it.

The dungeon was off to the right. They could hear the insistent murmurof voices, with now and then a laugh from the distant cells. The guardcould be heard scoffing at his charges. With a caution that seemedwholly absurd to the two white people, Neenah guided them through themaze of narrow passages, dark as Erebus and chill as the grave. Chasechecked a hysterical impulse to laugh aloud at the proceedings; it waslike playing at a children's game.

He was walking between the two women, Neenah ahead, Genevra behind; eachclasped one of his hands. Suddenly he found himself experiencing anoverpowering desire to exert the strength of his arm to draw thePrincess close—close to his insistent body. The touch of her flesh, theclutch of her cold little hand, filled him with the most exquisite senseof possession; the magnetism of life charged from one to the other,striking fire to the blood; sex tingled in this delicious riot of thesenses; all went to inspire and encourage the reckless joy that wasmastering him. He felt his arm grow taut with the irresistible impulse.He was forgetting Neenah, forgetting himself—thinking only of theopportunity and its fascination. In another instant he would have drawnher hand to his lips: Neenah came to a standstill and uttered a warningwhisper. Chase recovered himself with a mighty start, a chill as of oneavoiding an unseen peril sweeping over him. Genevra heard the sharp,painful intake of his breath and felt the sudden relaxation of hisfingers. She was not puzzled; she, too, had felt the magic of the touchand her blood was surging red; she knew, then, that she had beenclasping his hand with a fervour that was as unmistakable as it wasshameless.

She was again forgetting that princesses should dwell in the narrowrealm of self.

Neenah may have felt the magnetic current that coursed through thesesurcharged creatures: she was smiling mysteriously to herself.

"Wait here," she whispered to Chase, ever so softly. She released hishand and moved off in the blackness of the passage. "I will bringSelim," came back to them.

"Oh!" fell faintly, tremulously from Genevra's lips. It was a trap,after all! But it was not the trap laid by a traitor. She fell alla-quiver. Her heart fluttered violently, her breath came quickly. Alonewith him—and their blood leaping to the touch that thrilled!

Chase could no more have restrained the hand that went out suddenly inquest of hers than he could have checked his own heart throbs. A wave ofexquisite joy swept over him—the joy of a temptation that knew no fearor conscience. He found her cold little hand and clasped it in tensefingers—fingers that throbbed with the call to passion. He drew herclose—their bodies touched and sweetly trembled. His lips were close toher ear—the smell of her hair was in his quivering nostrils. He heardher quick, sharp breathing.

"Are you afraid?" he whispered in tones he had never heard before.

"Yes," she murmured convulsively—"of you! Please, please, don't!" Atthe same time, she tightened her clutch upon his hand and crept closerto him, governed by an unconquerable craving. Chase had the sensation ofsmothering; he could not believe the senses which told him that she wasresponding to his appeal. His brain was whirling, his heart boundinglike mad. Her voice, soft and appealing, turned his blood to fire.

"Genevra!" he murmured—almost gasped—in his delirium. Their bodieswere pressed close to each other—his arms went about her slender figuresuddenly and she was strained to his breast, locked to him with bondsthat seemed unbreakable. Her face was lifted to his. The blackness ofthe passage was impenetrable, but love was the guide. He found her lipsin one wild, glorious kiss.

A door creaked sharply. He released her. Their quivering arms fell away;they drew ever so slightly apart, still under the control of theinfluence which had held them for that brief moment. She was tremblingviolently. A soft, wailing sigh, as of pain, came from her lips.

Then the glimmer of a light came to them through the half open door atthe end of the passage. They gazed at it without comprehension, dumb intheir sudden weakness. A shadowy figure came out through the door andSelim's voice, low and tense, called to them.

Still speechless, they moved forward involuntarily. He did not attemptto take her hand. He was afraid—vastly afraid of what he had done,unaccountable as it may seem. That piteous sigh wrought shame in hisheart. He felt that he had wronged her—had seized upon a willing,hapless victim when she had not the power to defend herself against herown impulses.

"Forgive me," he murmured.

"It is too late," she replied. Then his hand sought hers again and,dizzy with emotion, he led her up to the open door. As they passed intothe huge, dimly lighted chamber, he turned to look into her face. Shemet his gaze and there were tears in her eyes. Selim was ahead of them.She shook her head sadly and he understood.

"Can we ever forget?" she murmured plaintively.

"Never!" he whispered.

"Then we shall always regret—always regret!" she said, withdrawing herhand. "It was the beginning and the end."

"Not the end, dearest one—if we are always to regret," he interposedeagerly. "But why the end? You do love me! I know it! And I worshipyou—oh, you don't know how I worship you, Genevra! I—"

"Hush! We were fools! Don't, please! I do not love you. I was carriedaway by—Oh, can't you understand? Remember what I am! You knew and yethave degraded me in my own eyes. Is my own self-respect nothing? Youwill laugh and you may boast after I am married to—"

"Genevra!" he protested as if in great pain.

"Excellency," came from the lips of Selim, at the lower end of thechamber, breaking in sharply upon their little world. "There is no timeto be lost." Time to be lost! And he had held her in his arms! Time tobe lost! All the rest of Time was to be lost! "They may return at anymoment."

Chase pulled himself together. He looked into her eyes for a moment,finding nothing there but a command to go. She stood straight andunyielding on the very spot which had seen her trembling with emotionbut a moment before.

"Coming, Selim," he said, and moved away from her side as Neenah cametoward them from the opposite wall. Genevra did not move. She stoodquite still and numb, watching his tall figure crossing the stone floor.Ah, what a man he was! The little Persian wife of Selim, after waitingfor a full minute, gently touched the arm of the Princess. Genevrastarted and looked down into the dark, accusing, smiling eyes. Sheflushed deeply and hated herself.

"Shall we go back?" she asked nervously. "I—I have seen enough. Come,Neenah. Lead me back to—"

"Most glorious excellency," said Neenah, shaking her pretty head, "weare to wait here. The sahib and Selim will join us soon."

"Where are they going?" demanded the Princess, a feeling of awe comingover her. "I don't want to be left here alone." Chase and Selim hadopened a low, heavy iron door at the lower end and were peering into thedarkness beyond.

"Selim will explain. He has learned much. It is the secret passage tothe coast. Be not afraid."

Genevra looked about her for the first time. They were standing in along, low room, the walls of which reeked with dampness and gave out anoxious odour. A single electric light provided a faint, almostunnatural light. Selim raised a lighted lantern as he led Chase throughthe squat door. Behind Genevra were enormous casks, a dozen or more,reaching almost to the ceiling. A number of boxes stood close by, whileon the opposite side of the chamber four small iron chests were to beseen, dragged out from recesses in the distant corner. It was not unlikethe mysterious treasure cave of the pirates that her brother hadstealthily read about to her in childhood days. Observing her look ofwonder, Neenah vouchsafed a casual explanation.

"It is the wine cellar and the storeroom. The iron chests contain thesilver and gold plate that came from the great Rajah of Murpat inexchange for the five huge rubies which now adorn his crown. The Rajahbartered his entire service of gold and silver for those wonderful gems.The old sahibs stored the chests here many years ago. But few know oftheir existence. See! They were hidden in the walls over there. VonBlitz has found them."

"Von Blitz!" in amazement.

"He has been here. He has carried away many chests. There were twenty inall."

"And—and he will return for these?" queried the Princess in alarm.

"Assuredly, most glorious one. Soon, perhaps. But be not afraid. Selimcan close the passage door. He cannot get in. He will be fooled, eh? Whyshould you be afraid? Have you not with you the most wonderful, the mostbrave sahib? Would he not give his life for you?" The dark eyes sparkledwith understanding—aye, even mischief. Genevra felt that this Orientalwitch knew everything. For a long time she looked in uncertain mood uponthat smiling, wistful face. Then she said softly, moved by anirresistible impulse to confess something, even obscurely:

"Oh, if only I were such as you, Neenah, and could live forever on thisdear island!"

Neenah's smile deepened, her eyes glowed with discernment. With ameaning gleam in their depths, she said: "But, most high, there are noprinces here. There is no one to whom the most gracious one could besold. No one who could pay more than a dozen rubies. Women are cheaphere, and you would be a woman, not a most beautiful princess."

"I would not care to be a princess, perhaps."

"You love my Sahib Chase?" demanded Neenah abruptly, eagerly.

"Neenah!" gasped Genevra, with a startled look. Neenah looked intentlyinto the unsteady, blue-grey eyes and then bent over to kiss the hand ofthe Princess. The latter laughed almost aloud in her confusion. Shecaught herself up quickly and said with some asperity: "You foolishchild, I am to become a prince's wife. How can I love your sahib? Whatnonsense! I am to marry a prince and he is not to pay for me in rubies."

"Ah, how wonderful!" cried Neenah, with ravishing candour. "A prince fora husband and the glorious Sahib Chase for a lover all your life! Ah!"The exclamation was no less than a sigh of rapturous endorsem*nt.

The Princess stared at her first in consternation, then in dismay.Before she could find words to combat this alarming prophecy, soingenuously presented to her reflections, Selim and Hollingsworth Chasereturned to the chamber. She was distressed, even confounded, to findthat she was staring at Chase with a strange, abashed curiosity growingin her eyes—a stare that she suddenly was afraid he might observe andappreciate. A wave of revulsion, of shame, spread over her whole being.She shuddered slightly as she turned her face away from his eager gaze:it was as if she recognised the fear that he was even now contemplatingthe future as Neenah had painted it for her.

She caught and checked a horrid arraignment of herself. Such conditionsas Neenah presented were not unknown to her. With the swiftness oflightning, she recalled the things that had been said of more than onegrand dame in Europe—aye, of women at her own court. Even a princessshe had known who—but for shame! she cried in her heart. It could notbe! Despite herself, a cruel, distressing shyness came over her as heapproached, his eyes glowing with the light she feared yet craved. Wasthis man to remain in her life? Was he? Would he come to her and wagethe unfair war? Was he honest? Was he even now coveting her as other menhad coveted the women she knew and despised? She found herselfconfronted by the shocking conviction that he knew she could never behis wife. He knew she was to wed another, and yet—It wasunbelievable!

She met his eager advance with a quick, shrill laugh of defiance, andnoted the surprise in his eyes. Dim as the light was, she could havesworn that the look in those eyes was honest. Ah, that silly Neenah! Thereaction was as sudden as the revolt had been. Her smile grew warm andshy.

"Von Blitz has been here," he was saying, half diffidently, stillsearching deep in her eyes. "He's played hob. And he's likely to returnat any minute."

"Then let us go quickly. I have no desire to meet the objectionable Mr.Von Blitz. Isn't it dreadfully dangerous here, Mr. Chase?" He mistookthe slight tremour in her voice for that of fear. A quaint look cameinto his face, the lines about the corners of his mouth droopingdolefully.

"Mr. Chase?" he said, with his winning smile. "Now?"

"Yes, now and always, Mr. Chase," she said steadily. "You know that itcannot be otherwise. I can't always be a fool."

His face turned a deep red; his lips parted for retort to this truculentestimate, but he controlled himself.

"Yes, it is dangerous here," he said quietly, answering her question."As soon as Selim bars that door upon the inside, we'll go. I was a foolto bring you here."

"How could you know what the dangers would be?" she asked.

"I'll confess I didn't expect Von Blitz," he said drily.

"But you did expect—" she began, with a start, biting her lips.

"There's a vast difference between expectation and hope, Princess."Neenah had joined Selim at the door when the men re-entered the chamber.Now she was approaching with her husband.

"May Allah bless you and profit for Himself, excellencies," said thegood Selim. Neenah plainly had advanced her suspicions to the brownbody-servant. Genevra blushed and then her eyes blazed. She gave thegirl a scornful look; Neenah smiled happily, unreservedly in return.

"Allah help us, you should say, if Von Blitz returns," interposed Chasehastily. "Is the door barred?"

"No, excellency. The bars have sprung, I cannot drop them in place. Asyou know, the lock has been blown away. The charge sprung the bolts. Wemust go at once."

"Then there is no way to keep them out of the château?" cried Genevraanxiously.

"They can go no farther than this room," explained Selim. "We lock thedouble iron doors from the other side—the door through which you came,most glorious excellency—and they cannot enter the cellars above. Thisis the chamber which opens into the underground passage to the coast.The passage was made for escape from the château in case of trouble andwas known to but few. My father was the servant of Sahib Wyckholme, andI used to live in the château. We came to the island when I was a baby.My father had been with the sahib in Africa. I came to know of thispassage, for my father and my mother were to go with the masters ifthere was an attack. Five years ago I was given a place in the company'soffice, and I never came up here after my parents died of the plague. Wewere—"

"The plague!" cried the Princess.

"It was said to have been the plague," said Selim bitterly. "They diedin great convulsions while spending the night in the Khan. That's theinn of Aratat, excellencies. The great sahibs sent their stomachs awayto be examined—"

"Never mind, Selim," said Chase. "Tell us about the passage there."

"Once there was a boat—a launch, which lay hidden below the cliffs onthe north coast. The passage led to this boat. It was always ready toput out to sea. But one night it was destroyed by the great rocks whichfell from the cliffs in an earthquake. When I came here, I at oncethought of the passage. You will see that the doors into the cellarcannot be opened from this chamber; the locks and bolts are on the otherside. I knew where the keys were hidden. It was easy to unlock the doorsand come into this room. I found that some one had been here before me.The door to the passage had been forced open from without—cracked bydynamite. Many of the treasure boxes have been removed. Von Blitz washere not an hour ago. He wears boots. I saw the footprints among thenaked ones in the passage. They will come back for the other chests.Then they will blow up the passage way with powder and escape from thechâteau through it will be cut off. I have found the kegs of powder inthe passage and have destroyed the fuses. It will be of no avail, sahib.They will blow it up at the other end, which will be just the same."

"There's no time to be lost," cried Chase. "We must bring enough mendown here to capture them when they return—shoot 'em if necessary. Comeon! We can surprise them if we hurry."

They were starting across the chamber toward the door, when a gruff,sepulchral oath came rolling up to the chamber through the secretpassage. Quick as a flash Selim, who realised that they could not reachand open the door leading to the stairs, turned in among the huge winecasks, first blinding his lantern. He whispered for the others tofollow. In a moment they were squeezing themselves through the narrowspaces between the dark, strong-smelling casks, back into a darkness soopaque that it seemed lifeless. Selim halted them in a recess near thewall and there they huddled, breathlessly awaiting the approach of theinvaders.

"They won't suspect that we are here," whispered Selim as the door tothe passage creaked. "Keep quiet! Don't breathe!"

The single electric light was still burning, as Selim had found it whenhe first came. The door swung open slowly, heavily, and Jacob von Blitz,half naked, mud-covered, reeking with perspiration, and pantingsavagely, stepped into the light. Behind him came a man with a lantern,and behind him two others.

They were white men, all. Von Blitz turned suddenly and cursed the manwith the lantern. The fellow was ready to drop with exhaustion.Evidently it had been no easy task to remove the chests.

CHAPTER XXIV

SEVERAL PHILOSOPHERS

The four burly men sat down upon the chests, Von Blitz alone beingvisible to the watchers. They were fa*gged to the last extreme.

"Dis is der last," panted Von Blitz, blowing hard and stretching his bigarms. The guttural German tones were highly accentuated by the effortrequired in speaking. His three helpers said nothing in reply. For fullyfive minutes the quartette sat silent, collecting their strength for thenext trip with the chests. Again it was Von Blitz who spoke. He had beenstaring savagely at the floor for several minutes, brooding deeply.

"I fix him," he growled. "His time vill come, by tarn! I let him know hecan't take my vives avay mit him. Der dog! I fix him some day purdysoon. Und dem tarn vimmens! Dem tarn hyenas! Dey run avay mit him, eh?Ach, Gott, if I could only put my hands by deir necks yet!"

"Vat for you fret, Yacob?" growled one of the Boers. "You couldn't takedose vimmens back by Europe mit you. I tink you got goot luck by losingdem. Misder Chase can't take dem back needer—so, dey go to hell yet.Don't fret."

"Veil," said Von Blitz, arising. "Come on, boys. Dis is der lasd of dem.Den ve blow der tarn t'ing up. Grab hold dere, Joost. Up mit it, Jan.Vat? No?"

"Gott in himmel, Yacob, vait a minutes. My back is proke," protestedJoost stubbornly. Von Blitz swore steadily for a minute, but could notmove the impassive Boers. He began pacing back and forth, growling tohimself. At last he stopped in front of the tired trio.

"Vat for you tink I vant you in on dis, you svine? To set aroundt unddream? Nobody else knows aboud dis treasures, und ve got it all forourselves—ve four und no more, und you say, 'Vat's der hurry?' It's allours. Ve divide it oop in der cave mit all der money ve get from derbank. Vat? Yes? Den, ven der time comes, ve send it all by Australia undno von is der viser. Der natives von't know und der white peebles von'tbe alive to care aboudt it. Ve let it stay hided in der cave undil disdrouble is all over und den it vill be easy to get it avay from derisland, yoost so quiet. Come on, boys! Don't be lazy!"

"I don't like dot scheme to rob der bank," growled Jan. "If der peeplesget onto us, dey vould cut us to bieces."

"But dey von't get onto us, you fool. Dey vouldn't take it demselves ifit vas handed to dem. Dey're too honest, yes. Vell, don't dey say ve'rehonest, too? Vell, vat more you vant? Dey don't know how much money undrubies dere is in der bank. Ve von't take all of it—und dey von't knowder difference. Ve burn der books. Das is all. Ve get in by der bankto-night, boys."

"I don't like id," said Joost. "Id's stealing from our freunds, Yacob.Besides, if der oder heirs should go before der government mit derstory. Vat den?"

"Der oder heirs vill never get der chance, boys. Dey vill die mit derplague—ha, ha! Sure! Dere von't be no oder heirs. Rasula says it mustbe so. Ve can'd vait, boys. It vill be years before der business issettled. Ve must get vat ve can now and vait for der decisionaftervards. Brodney has wrote to Rasula, saying dat dot Chase feller isto stay here vedder ve vant him or not. He says Chase is a goot man! Bytarn, it makes me cry to fink of vot he has done by me—dot goot man!"

To the amazement of all, the burly German began to blubber.

"Don't cry, Yacob," cried Joost, coming to his master's side and shakinghim by the shoulder. "You can get oder vives some day—besser as dese,yes!"

"Joost, I can't help crying—I can't. Ven I t'ink how I got to kill demyet! I hates to kill vimmens."

They permitted him to weep and swear for a few minutes. Then, withoutoffering further consolation, the three foremen made ready to take upthe remaining chests.

"Come on, Yacob," said Jan gruffly.

Von Blitz shook his fist at the door across the chamber and thunderedhis final maledictions.

"Sir John says in der letter to Misder Chase dere is a movements on footin London to settle der contest out of court," volunteered Joost.

"Sure, but he also say dat ve all may die mit old age before it is overyet."

"Don't forget der plague!" said Jan.

They groaned mightily as they lifted the heavy chests to their shouldersand started for the door.

"Close der door, Jan," commanded Von Blitz from the passage. "Ve villlight der fuse ven ve haf got beyond der first bend. Vat? Look! By tam,von of you swine has broke der fuse. Vait! Ve vill fix him now."

The door was closed behind them, but the listeners could hear themrepairing the damage that Selim had done to the fuse.

Led by Selim, the four made a rush for the door leading into thechâteau. They threw it open and passed through, flying as if for theirlives. No one could tell how soon an explosion might bring disaster tothe region; they put distance between them and the powder keg. Selimpaused long enough to drop the bolts and turn the great key with thelever. At the second turn in the narrow corridor, he overtook Chase andthe scurrying women.

"Is there nothing to be done?" cried the Princess. "Can we not preventthe explosion? They will cut off our means of escape in that—"

"I know too much about gunpowder, Princess," said Chase drily, "to foolwith it. It's like a mule. It kicks hard. 'Gad, it was hard to standthere and hear those brutes planning it all and not be able to stopthem."

The Princess was once more at his side; he had clasped her arm to leadher securely in the wake of Neenah's electric lantern. She came to asudden stop.

"And pray, Mr. Chase," she said sharply, as if the thought occurred toher for the first time, "why didn't you stop them? You had theadvantage. You and Selim could have surprised them—you could have takenthem without a struggle!"

He laughed softly, deprecatingly, not a little impressed by the justiceof her criticism.

"No doubt you consider me a coward," he said ruefully.

"You know that I do not," she protested. "I—I can't understand yourmotive, that is all."

"You forget that I am the representative of these very men. I am thetrusted agent of Sir John Brodney, who has refused to supplant me withanother. All this may sound ridiculous to you, when you take myanomalous position into account. I can't very well represent Sir Johnand at the same time make prisoners or corpses of his clients, eventhough I am being shielded by their legal foes. I don't mean to say thatI condone the attempt Von Blitz is making to rob his fellow-workmen ofthis hidden plate and the plunder in the bank. They are traitors totheir friends and I shall turn them over sooner or later to the peoplethey are looting. I'll not have Von Blitz saying, even to himself, thatI have not only stolen his wives but have also cast him into the handsof his philistines. It may sound quixotic to you, but I think that LordDeppingham and Mr. Browne will understand my attitude."

"But Von Blitz has sworn to kill you," she expostulated with some heat."You are wasting your integrity, I must say, Mr. Chase."

"Would you have me shoot him from ambush?" he demanded.

"Not at all. You could have taken him captive and held him safe untilthe time comes for you to leave the island."

"He would not have been my captive in any event. I could do no more thandeliver him into the hands of his enemies. Would that be fair?"

"But he is a thief!"

"No more so than Taswell Skaggs and John Wyckholme, who unquestionablycheated the natives out of the very treasure we have seen carried away."

"Admitting all that, Mr. Chase, you still forget that he has stolenproperty which now belongs quite as much to Lady Deppingham and Mr.Browne as it does to the natives."

"Quite true. But I am not a constable nor a thief catcher. I am asoldier of the defence, not an officer of the Crown at this stage of thegame. To-day I shall contrive to send word to Rasula that Von Blitz hasstolen the treasure chests. Mr. Von Blitz will have a sad timeexplaining this little defection to his friends. We must not overlookthe fact that Lady Deppingham and Robert Browne are quite willing totake everything from the islanders. Everything that Taswell Skaggs andJohn Wyckholme possessed in this island belongs to them under the termsof the will."

They were at the top of the second flight of stairs by this time andquite a distance from the treasure chamber. His coolness, the absence ofany sign of returning sentiment, was puzzling her sorely. Every vestigeof that emotion which had overwhelmed him during their sweet encounterwas gone, to all appearances: he was as calm and as matter-of-fact as ifshe were the merest stranger. She was trying to find thesolution—trying to read the mind of this smiling philosopher. Half anhour before, she had been carried away, rendered, helpless by thepassion that swayed him; now he spoke and looked as if he had forgottenthe result of his storming. Strangely enough, she was piqued.

When they came into the well-lighted upper corridor he proceededruthlessly to upset all of her harsh calculations. They were nowtraversing the mosaic floors of the hall that led to the lower terraces.He stopped suddenly, stepping directly in front of her. As she drew upin surprise, he reached down and took both of her hands in his. For themoment, she was too amazed to oppose this sudden action. She looked upinto his face, many emotions in her own—reproof, wonder, dismay,hauteur—joy!

"Wait," he said gently. They were quite alone. The stream of daylightfrom the distant French windows barely reached to this quiet spot. Shesaw the most wonderful light in his grey eyes; her lips parted in quick,timorous confusion. "I love you. I am sorry for what I did down there. Icouldn't help it—nor could you. Yet I took a cruel advantage of you. Iknow what you've been thinking, too. You have been saying to yourselfthat I wanted to see how far I could go—don't speak! I know. You arewrong. I've absolutely worshipped you since those first days inThorberg—wildly, hopelessly—day and night. I was afraid of you—yes,afraid of you because you are a princess. But I've got over all that,Genevra. You are a woman—a living, real woman with the blood and theheart and the lips that were made for men to crave. I want to tell youthis, here in the light of day, not in the darkness that hid all thetruth in me except that which you might have felt in my kiss."

"Please, please don't," she said once more, her lip trembling, her eyesfull of the softness that the woman who loves cannot hide. "You shallnot go on! It is wrong!"

"It is not wrong," he cried passionately. "My love is not wrong. I wantyou to understand and to believe. I can't hope that you will be mywife—it's too wildly improbable. You are not for such as I. You arepledged to a man of your own world—your own exalted world. But listen,Genevra—see, my eyes call you darling even though my lips dare not---Genevra, I'd give my soul to hear you say that you will be my wife. Youdo understand how it is with me?"

The delicious sense of possession thrilled her; she glowed with thereturn of her self-esteem, in the restoration of that quality whichproclaimed her a princess of the blood. She was sure of him now! She wassure of herself. She had her emotions well in hand. And so, despite thedelicious warmth that swept through her being, she chose to reveal nosign of it to him.

"I do understand," she said quietly, meeting his gaze with a directnessthat hurt him sorely. "And you, too, understand. I could not be yourwife. I am glad yet sorry that you love me, and I am proud to have heardyou say that you want me. But I am a sensible creature, Mr. Chase, and,being sensible, am therefore selfish. I have seen women of my unhappystation venture out side of their narrow confines in the search forlife-long joy with men who might have been kings had they not been bornunder happier stars—men of the great wide world instead of thesoulless, heartless patch which such as I call a realm. Not one in ahundred of those women found the happiness they were so sure of graspingjust outside their prison walls. It was not in the blood. We are theembodiment of convention, the product of tradition. Time has proved innearly every instance that we cannot step from the path our prejudicesknow. We must marry and live and die in the sphere to which we wereborn. It must sound very bald to you, but the fact remains, just thesame. We must go through life unloved and uncherished, bringing princesinto the world, seeing happiness and love just beyond our reach all thetime. We have hearts and we have blood in our veins, as you say, and wemay love, too, but believe me, dear friend, we are bound by chains noforce can break—the chains of prejudice."

She had withdrawn her hands from his; he was standing before her as calmand unmoved as a statue.

"I understand all of that," he said, a faint smile moving his lips. Shewas not expecting such resignation as this.

"I am glad that you—that you understand," she said.

"Just the same," he went on gently, "you love me as I love you. Youkissed me. I could feel love in you then. I can see it in you now.Perhaps you are right in what you say about not finding happinessoutside the walls, but I doubt it, Genevra. You will marry Prince Karlin June, and all the rest of your life will be bleak December. You willnever forget this month of March—our month." He paused for a moment tolook deeply into her incredulous eyes. His face writhed in sudden pain.Then he burst forth with a vehemence that startled her. "My God, I pityyou with all my soul! All your life!"

"Don't pity me!" she cried fiercely. "I cannot endure that!"

"Forgive me! I shouldn't say such things to you. It's as if I werebullying you,"

"You must not think of me as unhappy—ever. Go on your own way,Hollingsworth Chase, and forget that you have known me. You will findhappiness with some one else. You have loved before; you can and willlove again. I--- I have never loved before—but perhaps, like you, Ishall love again. You will love again?" she demanded, her liptrembling with an irresolution she could not control.

"Yes," he said calmly, "I'll love the wife of Karl Brabetz." His eyesswept hungrily over the golden bronze hair; then he turned away with theshort, hard laugh of the man who scoffs at his own despair. She startedviolently; her cheek went red and white and her eyes widened as thoughthey were looking upon something unpleasant; her thoughts went back tothe naïve prophecy in the treasure chamber.

She followed him slowly to the terrace. He stopped in the doorway andleisurely drew forth his cigarette case.

"Shall we wait for the explosion?" he asked without a sign of theemotion that had gone before. She gravely selected a cigarette from thecase which he extended. As he lighted his own, he watched her draw fromher little gold bag a diamond-studded case, half filled. Without a wordof apology, she calmly deposited the cigarette in the case and restoredit to the bottom of the bag.

Then she looked up brightly. "I am not smoking, you see," she said, witha smile. "I am saving all of these for you when the famine comes."

"By Jove!" he exclaimed, something like incredulity in the smile thattransfigured his face.

"I could be a thrifty housewife, couldn't I?" she asked naïvely.

At that moment, a dull, heavy report, as of distant thunder, came totheir ears. The windows rattled sharply and the earth beneath themseemed to quiver. Involuntarily she drew nearer to him, casting a glanceof alarm over her shoulder in the direction from which they had come.

"You could, if you had half a chance," he said drily, and then casuallyremarked the explosion.

CHAPTER XXV

THE DISQUIETING END OF PONG

Later on, he and Deppingham visited the underground chamber, accompaniedby Mr. Britt. They found that the door to the passage had been blownaway by the terrific concussion. Otherwise, the room was, to allappearances, undamaged, except that some of the wine casks were leaking.The subterranean passage at this place was completely filled with earthand stone.

Deppingham stared at the closed mouth of the passage. "They've cut offour exit, but they've also secured us from invasion from this source. Iwonder if the beggars were clever enough to carry the plunder above theflood line. If not, they've had their work for nothing."

"Selim says there is a cave near the mouth of the passage," said Chase."The tunnel comes out half way up the side of the mountain, overlookingthe sea, and the hole is very carefully screened by the thick shrubbery.Trust Von Blitz to do the safe thing."

"I don't mind Von Blitz escaping so much, Chase," said his lordshipearnestly, "as I do the unfortunate closing of what may have been ouronly way to leave the château in the end."

"You must think me an ungrateful fool," said Chase bitterly. He hadalready stated his position clearly.

"Not at all, old chap. Don't get that into your head. I only meant thata hole in the ground is worth two warships that won't come when we need'em."

Chase looked up quickly. "You don't believe that I can call thecruisers?"

"Oh, come now, Chase, I'm not a demmed native, you know."

The other grinned amiably. "Well, you just wait, as the boy says."

Deppingham put his eyeglass in more firmly and stared at his companion,not knowing whether to take the remark as a jest or to begin to look forsigns of mental collapse. Britt laughed shortly.

"I guess we'll have to," said the stubby lawyer.

After satisfying themselves that there was no possibility of the enemyever being able to enter the château through the collapsed passage, thetrio returned to the upper world.

Involuntarily their gaze went out searchingly over the placid sea. Thewhole sky glared back at them, unwrinkled, smokeless, cloudless. Chaseturned to Deppingham, a word of encouragement on his lips. His lordshipwas looking intently toward the palm-shaded grotto at the base of thelower terrace. Britt moved uneasily and then glanced at hisfellow-countryman, a queer expression in his eyes. A moment laterDeppingham was clearing his throat for the brisk comment on the beautyof the view from the rather unfrequented spot on which they stood.

Robert Browne and Lady Agnes were seated on the edge of the fountain inApollo's Grotto, conversing earnestly, even eagerly, with Mr. Bowles,who stood before them in an unmistakable attitude of indecision andperturbation. Deppingham's first futile attempt to appear unconcernedwas followed by an oppressive silence, broken at last by the Englishman.He gave Chase a look which plainly revealed his uneasiness.

"Ever since I've heard that Bowles has the power to marry people, Chase,I've been upset a bit," he explained nervously.

"You don't mean to say, Lord Deppingham, that you're afraid the heirswill follow the advice of that rattle-headed Saunders," said Chase, witha laugh, "Why, it wouldn't hold in court for a second. Ask Britt."

Britt cleared his throat. "Not for half a second," he said. "I'm onlywondering if Bowles has authority to grant divorces."

"I daresay he has," said Deppingham, tugging at his moustache."He's—he's a magistrate."

"It doesn't follow," said Chase, "that he has unlimited legal powers."

"But what are they ragging him about down there, Chase," blurted outthe unhappy Deppingham.

"Come in and have a drink," said Chase suddenly. Deppingham wasshivering. "You've got a chill in that damp cellar. I can assure youpositively, as representative of the opposition, that the grandchildrenof Skaggs and Wyckholme are not going to divorce or marry anybody whileI'm here, Britt and Saunders and Bowles to the contrary. And LadyDeppingham is no fool. Come on and have something to warm the co*ckles.You're just childish enough to have the croup to-night." He said it withsuch fine humour that Deppingham could not take offence.

"All right, old chap," he said with a laugh. "I am chilled to the bone.I'll join you in a few minutes." To their surprise, he started offacross the terrace in the direction of the consulting trio. Chase andBritt silently watched his progress. They saw him join the others,neither of whom seemed to be confused or upset by his appearance, andsubsequently enter into the discussion that had been going on.

"Just the same, Chase," said Britt, after a long silence, "he's worried,and not about marriage or divorce, either. He's jealous. I didn'tbelieve it was in him."

"See here, Britt, you've no right to stir him up with those confoundedremarks about divorce. You know that it's rot. Don't do it."

"My dear Chase," said Britt, waving his hand serenely, "we can't alwayssee what's in the air, but, by the Eternal, we usually can feel it.'Nough said. Give you my word, I can't help laughing at the positionyou're in at present. It doesn't matter what you get onto in connectionwith our side of the case, you're where you can't take advantage of itwithout getting killed by your own clients. Horrible paradox, eh?"

When Deppingham rejoined them, he was pale and very nervous. His wife,who had been weeping, came up with him, while Browne went off toward thestables with the ex-banker.

"What do you think has happened?" demanded his lordship, addressing thetwo men, who stood by, irresolutely. "Somebody's trying to poison us!"

"What!" from both listeners.

"I've said it all along. Now, we know! Lady Deppingham's dog isdead—poisoned, gentlemen." He was wiping the moisture from his brow.

"I'm sorry, Lady Deppingham," said Chase earnestly. "He was a nice dog.But I hardly think he could have eaten what was intended for any of us.If he was poisoned, the poison was meant for him and for no one else. Hebit one of the stable boys yesterday. It—"

"That may all be very true, Chase," protested his lordship, "but don'tyou see, it goes to show that some one has a stock of poison on hand,and we may be the next to get it. He died half an hour aftereating—after eating a biscuit that was intended for me! It's—it'sdemmed uncomfortable, to say the least."

"Mr. Bowles has been questioning the servants," said Lady Agnesmiserably.

"Of course," said Chase philosophically, "it's much better that Pongshould have got it than Lord Deppingham. By the way, who gave him thebiscuit?"

"Bromley. She tossed it to him and he—he caught it so cleverly. Youknow how cunning he was, Mr. Chase. I loved to see him catch—"

"Then Bromley has saved your life, Deppingham," said Chase. "I'm sureyou need the brandy, after all this. Come along. Will you join us, LadyDeppingham?"

"No. I'm going to bed!" She started away, then stopped and looked at herhusband, her eyes wide with sudden comprehension. "Oh, Deppy, I shouldhave died! I should have died!"

"My dear!"

"I couldn't have lived if—"

"But, my dear, I didn't eat it—and here we are! God bless you!" Heturned abruptly and walked off beside her, ignoring the two distressedAmericans. As they passed through the French window, Deppingham put hisarm about his wife's waist. Chase turned to Britt.

"I don't know what you're thinking, Britt, but it isn't so, whatever itis."

"Good Lord, man, I wasn't thinking that!"

A very significant fact now stared the occupants of the château in theface. There was not the slightest doubt in the minds of those conversantwith the situation that the poison had been intended for either Lord orLady Deppingham. The drug had been subtly, skilfully placed in one ofthe sandwiches which came up to their rooms at eleven o'clock, the hourat which they invariably drank off a cup of bouillon. Lady Deppinghamwas not in her room when Bromley brought the tray. She was on thegallery with the Brownes. Bromley came to ask her if she desired to havethe bouillon served to her there. Lady Agnes directed her to fetch thetray, first inviting Mrs. Browne to accept Lord Deppingham's portion.Drusilla declined and Bromley tossed a sandwich to Pong, who was alwayslying in wait for such scraps as might come his way. Lady Agnes alwaysate macaroons—never touching the sandwiches. This fact, of course, itwas argued, might not have been known to the would-be poisoner. Herladyship, as usual, partook of the macaroons and felt no ill effects. Itwas, therefore, clear that the poison was intended for but one of them,as, on this occasion, a single sandwich came up from the buffet. No onebut Deppingham believed that it was intended for him.

In any event, Pong, the red co*cker, was dead. He was in convulsionsalmost immediately after swallowing the morsel he had begged for, and inless than three minutes was out of his misery, proving conclusively thata dose of deadly proportions had been administered. It is no wonder thatDeppingham shuddered as he looked upon the stiff little body in theupper hall.

Drusilla Browne was jesting, no doubt, but it is doubtful if any onegrasped the delicacy of her humour when she observed, in mock concern,addressing the assembled mourners, that she believed the heirs weretrying to get rid of their incumbrances after the good old Borgiafashion, and that she would never again have the courage to eat amouthful of food so long as she stood between her husband and a hymenealfortune.

"You know, my dear," she concluded, turning to her Husband, "that Imight have had Lord Deppingham's biscuit. His wife asked me to takeit. Goodness, you're a dreadful Borgia person, Agnes," she went on,smiling brightly at her ladyship. Deppingham was fumbling nervously athis monocle. "I should think you would be nervous, Lord Deppingham."

The most rigid questioning elicited no information from the servants.Baillo's sudden, involuntary look of suspicion, directed toward LadyAgnes and Robert Browne, did not escape the keen eye of HollingsworthChase.

"Impossible!" he said, half aloud. He looked up and saw that thePrincess was staring at him questioningly. He shook his head, withoutthinking.

Despair settled upon the white people. They were confronted by a new andserious peril: poison! At no time could they feel safe. Chase took itupon himself to talk to the native servants, urging them to do nothingthat might reflect suspicion upon them. He argued long and forcefullyfrom the standpoint of a friend and counsellor. They listened stolidlyand repeated their vows of fidelity and integrity. He was astute enoughto take them into his confidence concerning the treachery of Jacob VonBlitz. It was only after most earnest pleading that he persuaded themnot to slay the German's wives as a temporary expedient.

One of the stable boys volunteered to carry a note from Chase to Rasula,asking the opportunity to lay a question of grave importance before him.Chase suggested to Rasula that he should meet him that evening at thewest gate, under a flag of truce. The tone of the letter was more orless peremptory.

Rasula came, sullen but curious. At first he would not believe; butChase was firm in his denunciation of Jacob von Blitz. Then he waspleased to accuse Chase of duplicity and double-dealing, going so far asto charge the deposed American with plotting against Von Blitz tofurther his own ends in more ways than one. At last, however, when hewas ready to give up in despair, Chase saw signs of conviction in themanner of the native leader. His own fairness, his courage, had appealedto Rasula from the start. He did not know it then, but the dark-skinnedlawyer had always felt, despite his envy and resentment, a certainrespect for his integrity and fearlessness.

He finally agreed to follow the advice of the American; grudgingly, tobe sure, but none the less determined.

"You will find everything as I have stated it, Rasula," said Chase. "I'msorry you are against me, for I would be your friend. I've told you howto reach the secret cave. The chests are there. The passage is closed.You can trap him in the attempt to rob the bank. I could have taken himred-handed and given him over to Lord Deppingham. But you would neverhave known the truth. Now I ask you to judge for yourselves. Give him afair trial, Rasula—as you would any man accused of crime—and be just.If you need a witness—an eye-witness—call on me. I will come and Iwill appear against him. I've been honest with you. I am willing totrust you to be honest with me."

CHAPTER XXVI

DEPPINGHAM FALLS ILL

That evening Lord Deppingham took to his bed with violent chills. Heshivered and burned by turns and spent a most distressing night. BobbyBrowne came in twice to see him before retiring. For some reason unknownto any one but himself, Deppingham refused to be treated by the youngman, notwithstanding the fact that Browne laid claim to a physician'scertificate and professed to be especially successful in breaking up"the ague." Lady Agnes entreated her liege lord to submit to the doses,but Deppingham was resolute to irascibility.

"A Dover's powder, Deppy, or a few grains of quinine. Please besensible. You're just like a child."

"What's in a Dover's powder?" demanded the patient, who had never beenill in his life.

"Ipecac and opium, sugar of milk or sulphate of potash. It's an anodynediaphoretic," said Browne.

"Opium, eh?" came sharply from the couch. "Good Lord, an overdose of itwould—" he checked the words abruptly and gave vent to a nervous fit oflaughter.

"Don't be a fool, George," commanded his wife. "No one is trying topoison you."

"Who's saying that he's going to poison me?" demanded Deppinghamshortly. "I'm objecting because I don't like the idea of taking medicinefrom a man just out of college. Now judge for yourself, Browne: wouldyou take chances of that sort, away off here where there isn't aphysician nearer than twelve hundred miles? Come now, be frank."

Bobby Browne leaned back and laughed heartily. "I daresay you're right.I should be a bit nervous. But if we don't practise on some one, how arewe to acquire proficiency? It's for the advancement of science. Lots ofpeople have died in that service."

"By Jove, you're cold-blooded about it!" He stared helplessly at hiswife's smiling face. "It's no laughing matter, Agnes. I'm a very sickman."

"Then, why not take the powders?"

"I've just given my wife a powder, old man. She's got a nervousheadache," urged Browne tolerantly.

"Your wife?" exclaimed Deppingham, sitting up. "The devil!" He lookedhard at Browne for a moment. "Oh, I say, now, old chap, don't you thinkit's rather too much of a coincidence?"

Browne arose quickly, a flash of resentment in his eyes. "See here,Deppingham—"

"Don't be annoyed, Bobby," pleaded Lady Agnes. "He's nervous. Don't mindhim."

"I'm not nervous. It's the beastly chill."

"Just the same. Lady Agnes, I shall not give him a grain of anything ifhe persists in thinking I'm such a confounded villain as to—"

"I apologise, Browne," said Deppingham hastily. "I'm not afraid of yourmedicine. I'm only thinking of my wife. If I should happen to die,don't you know, there would be people who might say that you could havecured me. See what I mean?"

"You dear old goose," cried his wife.

"I fancy Selim or Baillo or even Bowles knows what a fellow doseshimself with when he's bowled over by one of these beastly islandailments. Oblige me, Agnes, and send for Bowles."

Bowles came bowing and scraping into the room a few minutes later. Heimmediately recommended an old-fashioned Dover's powder and ventured theopinion that "good sweat" would soon put his lordship on his feet,"better than ever." Deppingham kept Bowles beside him while Brownegenerously prepared and administered the medicine.

Later in the night the Princess came to see how the patient was gettingon. He was in a dripping perspiration.

Genevra drew a chair up beside his couch and sat down.

Lady Agnes was yawning sleepily over a book.

"Do you know, I believe I'd feel better if I could have another chill,"he said. "I'm so beastly hot now that I can't stand it. Aggie, why don'tyou turn out on the balcony for a bit of fresh air? I'm a brute to havekept you moping in here all evening."

Lady Agnes sighed prettily and—stepped out into the murky night. Therewere signs of an approaching storm in the sultry air.

"I say, Genevra, what's the news?" demanded his lordship.

"The latest bulletin says that you are very much improved and that youexpect to pass a comfortable night."

"'Gad I do feel better. I'm not so stuffy. Where is Chase?"

Now, the Princess, it is most distressing to state, had wilfully avoidedMr. Chase since early that morning.

"I'm sure I don't know. I had dinner with Mrs. Browne in her room. Ifancy he's off attending to the guard. I haven't seen him."

"Nice chap," remarked Deppingham. "Isn't that he now, speaking to Agnesout there?"

Genevra looked up quickly. A man's voice came in to them from thebalcony, following Lady Deppingham's soft laugh.

"No," she said, settling back calmly. "It's Mr. Browne."

"Oh," said Deppingham, a slight shadow coming into his eyes. "Nice chap,too," he added a moment later.

"I don't like him," said she, lowering her voice. Deppingham was silent.Neither spoke for a long time The low voices came to them indistinctlyfrom the outside.

"I've no doubt Agnes is as much to blame as he," said his lordship atlast. "She's made a fool of more than one man, my dear. She rather likesit."

"He's behaving like a brute. They've been married less than a year."

"I daresay I'd better call Aggie off," he mused.

"It's too late."

"Too late? The deuce—"

"I mean, too late to help Drusilla Browne. She's had an idealshattered."

"It really doesn't amount to anything, Genevra," he argued. "It willblow over in a fortnight. Aggie's always doing this sort of thing, youknow."

"I know, Deppy," she said sharply. "But this man is different. He's nota gentleman. Mr. Skaggs wasn't a gentleman. Blood tells. He will boastof this flirtation until the end of his days."

"Aggie's had dozens of men in love with her—really in love," heprotested feebly. "She's not—"

"They've come and gone and she's still the same old Agnes and you're thesame old Deppy. I'm not thinking of you or Aggie. It's Drusilla Browne."

"I see. Thanks for the confidence you have in Aggie. I daresay I knowhow Drusilla feels. I've—I've had a bad turn or two, myself, lately,and—but, never mind." He was silent for some time, evidently turningsomething over in his mind. "By the way, what does Chase say about it?"he asked suddenly.

She started and caught her breath. "Mr. Chase? He—he hasn't saidanything about it," she responded lamely. "He's—he's not that sort,"

"Ah," reflected Deppingham, "he is a gentleman?"

Genevra flushed. "Yes, I'm sure he is."

"I say, Genevra," he said, looking straight into her rebellious eyes,"you're in love with Chase. Why don't you marry him?"

"You—you are really delirious, Deppy," she cried. "The fever has----"

"He's good enough for any one—even you," went on his lordship coolly.

"He may have a wife," said she, collecting her wits with rare swiftness."Who knows? Don't be silly, Deppy."

"Rubbish! Haven't you stuffed Aggie and me full of the things you foundout concerning him before he left Thorberg—and afterward? The lettersfrom the Ambassador's wife and the glowing things your St. Petersburgfriends have to say of him, eh? He comes to us well recommended by noother than the Princess Genevra, a most discriminating person. Besides,he'd give his head to marry you—having already lost it."

"You are very amusing, Deppy, when you try to be clever. Is there aclause in that silly old will compelling me to marry any one?"

"Of course not, my dear Princess; but I fancy you've got a will of yourown. Where there's a will, there's a way. You'd marry him to-morrowif—if----"

"If I were not amply prepared to contest my own will?" she suppliedairily.

"No. If your will was not wrapped in convention three centuries old. Youwon't marry Chase because you are a princess. That's the long and theshort of it. It isn't your fault, either. It's born in you. I daresay itwould be a mistake, after a fashion, too. You'd be obliged to give upbeing a princess, and settle down as a wife. Chase wouldn't let youforget that you were a wife. It would be hanging over you all the time.Besides, he'd be a husband. That's something to beware of, too."

"Deppy, you are ranting frightfully," she said consolingly. "You shouldgo to sleep."

"I'm awfully sorry for you, Genevra."

"Sorry for me? Dear me!"

"You're tremendously gone on him."

"Nonsense! Why, I couldn't marry Mr. Chase," she exclaimed, irritable atlast. "Don't put such things into my head—I mean, don't get such thingsinto that ridiculous old head of yours. Are you forgetting that I am tobecome Karl's wife in June? You are babbling, Deppy----"

"Well, let's say no more about it," he said, lying back resignedly."It's too bad, that's all. Chase is a man. Karl isn't. You loathe him. Idon't wonder that you turn pale and look frightened. Take my advice!Take Chase!"

"Don't!" she cried, a break in her voice. She arose and went swiftlytoward the window. Then she stopped and turned upon him, her lips partedas if to give utterance to the thing that was stirring her heart soviolently. The words would not come. She smiled plaintively and saidinstead: "Good-night! Get a good sleep."

"The same to you," he called feverishly.

"Deppy," she said firmly, a red spot in each cheek, her voice tense andstrained to a high pitch of suppressed decision, "I shall marry KarlBrabetz. That will be the end of your Mr. Chase."

"I hope so," he said. "But I'm not so sure of it, if you continue tolove him as you do now."

She went out with her cheeks burning and a frightened air in her heart.What right, what reason had he to say such things to her? Her thoughtsraced back to Neenah's airy prophecy.

Bobby Browne and Agnes were approaching from the lower end of thebalcony. She drew back into the shadow suddenly, afraid that they mightdiscover in her flushed face the signs of that ugly blow to her prideand her self-respect. "I'm not so sure of it," was whirling in herbrain, repeating itself a hundred times over, stabbing her each time ina new and even more tender spot.

"If you continue to love him as you do now," fought its way through themaze of horrid, disturbing thoughts. How could she face the charge: "I'mnot so sure of it," unless she killed the indictment "if you love him asyou do now?"

Lady Agnes and Browne passed by without seeing her and entered thewindow. She heard him say something to his companion, softly,tenderly—she knew not what it was. And Lady Agnes laughed—yes,nervously. Ah, but Agnes was playing! She was not in love with this man.It was different. It was not what Neenah meant—nor Deppingham, honestfriend that he was.

Down below she heard voices. She wondered—inconsistently alert—whetherhe was one of the speakers. Thomas Saunders and Miss Pelham werecoming in from the terrace. They were in love with each other! Theycould be in love with each other. There was no law, no convention thatsaid them nay! They could marry—and still love! "If you continue tolove him as you do now," battered at the doors of her conscience.

Silently she stole off to her own rooms; stealthily, as if afraid ofsomething she could not see but felt creeping up on her with an evilgrin. It was Shame!

Her maid came in and she prepared for bed. Left alone, she perchedherself in the window seat to cool her heated face with the breezes thatswept on ahead of the storm which was coming up from the sea. Her heartwas hot; no breeze could cool it—nothing but the ice of decision coulddrive out the fever that possessed it. Now she was able to reason calmlywith herself and her emotions. She could judge between them. Threesentences she had heard uttered that day crowded upon each other to beuppermost: not the weakest of which was one which had fallen from thelips of Hollingsworth Chase.

"It is impossible—incredible!" she was saying to herself. "I could notlove him like that. I should hate him. God above me, am I not differentfrom those women whom I have known and pitied and despised? Am I notdifferent from Guelma von Herrick? Am I not different from PrinceHenri's wife? Ah, and they loved, too! And is he not different fromthose other men—those weak, unmanly men, who came into the lives ofthose women? Ah, yes, yes! He is different."

She sat and stared out over the black sea, lighted fitfully by thedistant lightning. There, she pronounced sentence upon him—and herself.There was no place for him in her world. He should feel her disdain—heshould suffer for his presumption. Presumption? In what way had heoffended? She put her hands to her eyes but her lips smiled—smiled withthe memory of the kiss she had returned!

"What a fool! What a fool I am," she cried aloud, springing upresolutely. "I must forget. I told him I couldn't, but I—I can." Halfway across the room she stopped, her hands clenched fiercely. "If—ifKarl were only such as he!" she moaned.

She went to her dressing table and resolutely unlocked one of thedrawers, as one would open a case in which the most precious oftreasures was kept. A cautious, involuntary glance over her shoulder,and then she ran her hand into the bottom of the drawer.

"It was so silly of me," she muttered. "I shall not keep them for him."The drawer was partly filled with cigarettes. She took one from amongthe rest and placed its tip in her red lips, a reckless light in hereyes. A match was struck and then her hand seemed to be in the clutch ofsome invisible force. The light flickered and died in her fingers. Ablush suffused her face, her eyes, her neck. Then with a guilty, shamed,tender smile she dropped the cigarette into the drawer. She turned thekey.

"No," she said to herself, "I told him that I was keeping them for him."

CHAPTER XXVII

THE TRIAL OF VON BLITZ

The next morning found the weather unsettled. There had been a fiercestorm during the night and a nasty mist was blowing up from the sea.Deppingham kept to his room, although his cold was dissipated. For thefirst time in all those blistering, trying months, they felt a chill inthe air; raw, wet, unexpected.

Chase had been up nearly all of the night, fearful lest the islandersshould seize the opportunity to scale the walls under cover of thetempest. All through the night he had been possessed of a spirit of wildbravado, a glorious exaltation: he was keeping watch over her, standingbetween her and peril, guarding her while she slept. He thought of thatmass of Henner hair—he loved to think of her as a creation of thefanciful Henner—he thought of her asleep and dreaming in blissfulsecurity while he, with all the loyalty of an imaginative boy, wasstanding guard just as he had pictured himself in those heroic days whenhe substituted himself for the story-book knight who stood beneath thebattlements and defied the covetous ogre. His thoughts, however, did notcontemplate the Princess fair in a state of wretched insomnia, withhimself as the disturbing element.

He looked for her at breakfast time. They usually had their rolls andcoffee together. When she did not appear, he made more than one pretextto lengthen his own stay in the breakfast-room. "She's trying to forgetyesterday," he reflected. "What was it she said about always regretting?Oh, well, it's the way of women. I'll wait," he concluded with theutmost confidence in the powers of patience.

Selim came to him in the midst of his reflections, bearing a thick,rain-soaked envelope.

"It was found, excellency, inside the southern gate, and it is meant foryou," said Selim. Chase gingerly slashed open the envelope with hisfruit knife. He laughed ruefully as he read the simple but laboriousmessage from Jacob von Blitz.

"Where are your warships all this time? They are not coming to youever. Good-bye. You got to die yet, too. Your friend, Jacob von Blitz.And my wives, too."

Chase stuffed the blurred, sticky letter into his pocket and arose tostretch himself.

"There's something coming to you, Jacob," he said, much to the wonder ofSelim. "Selim, unless I miss my guess pretty badly, we'll be having amessage—not from Garcia—but from Rasula before long. You've neverheard of Garcia? Well, come along. I'll tell you something about him aswe take our morning stroll. How are my cigarettes holding out?"

"They run low, sahib. Neenah has given all of hers to me for you,excellency, and I have demanded those of the wives of Von Blitz."

"Selim, you must not forget that you are a gentleman. That was mostungallant. But I suppose you got them?"

"No, sahib. They refused to give them up. They are saving them for Mr.Britt," said Selim dejectedly.

"Ah, the ficklety of women!" he sighed. "There's a new word for you,Selim—ficklety. I like it better than fickleness, don't you? Soundslike frailty, too. Was there any shooting after I went to bed?" Hismanner changed suddenly from the frivolous to the serious.

"No, sahib."

"I don't understand their game," he mused, a perplexed frown on hisbrow. "They've quit popping away at us."

It was far past midday when he heard from Rasula. The disagreeableweather may have been more or less responsible for the ruffling ofChase's temper during those long, dreary hours of waiting. Be that as itmay, he was sorely tried by the feeling of loneliness that attacheditself to him. He had seen the Princess but once, and then she waswalking briskly, wrapped in a rain coat, followed by her shivering dogs,and her two Rapp-Thorberg soldiers! Somehow she failed to see Chase ashe sauntered hungrily, almost imploringly across the upper terrace, inplain view. Perhaps, after all, it was not the weather.

Rasula's messenger came to the gates and announced that he had a letterfor Mr. Chase. He was admitted to the grounds and conducted to the sickchamber of "the commandant." Hollingsworth Chase read the carefullyworded, diplomatic letter from the native lawyer, his listeners payingthe strictest attention. After the most courteous introductory, Rasulahad this to say:

"We have reason to suspect that you were right in your suspicions. Thegolden plate has been found this day in the cave below the château, justas you have said. This much of what you have charged against Jacob vonBlitz seems to be borne out by the evidence secured. Last night therewas an attempt to rob the vaults in the company's bank. Again I followedyour advice and laid a trap for the men engaged. They were slain in thestruggle which followed. This fact is much to be deplored. Your commandthat these men be given a fair trial cannot be obeyed. They diedfighting after we had driven them to the wall. I have to inform you,sir, that your charge against Jacob von Blitz does not hold good in thecase of the bank robbery. Therefore, I am impelled to believe that youmay have unjustly accused him of being implicated in the robbery of thetreasure chests. He was not among the bank thieves. There were but threeof them—the Boer foremen. Jacob von Blitz came up himself and joined usin the fight against the traitors. He was merciless in his anger againstthem. You have said that you will testify against him. Sir, I have takenit upon myself to place him under restraint, notwithstanding his actionsagainst the Boers. He shall have a fair trial. If it is proved that heis guilty, he shall pay the penalty. We are just people.

"Sir, we, the people of Japat, will take you at your word. We ask you toappear against the prisoner and give evidence in support of your charge.He shall be placed on trial to-morrow morning at ten o'clock. On myhonour as a man and a Believer, I assure safety to you while you areamong us on that occasion. You shall find that we are honourable—morehonourable than the people you now serve so dearly. I, Rasula, will meetyou at the gates and will conduct you back to them in safety. If you area true man, you will not evade the call. I beg to assure you that yourtestimony against Jacob von Blitz shall be weighed carefully and withoutprejudice by those who are to act as his judges. My messenger will carryyour reply to us. RASULA."

"Well, it looks as though Von Blitz has spiked your guns," saidDeppingham. "The dog turns against his confederates and saves his ownskin by killing them."

"In any event," said Browne, "you spoiled his little game. He loses thetreasure and he didn't get into the vaults. Rasula should take thosepoints into consideration."

"He won't forget them, rest assured. That's why I'm sure that he'll takemy word at the trial as against that of Von Blitz," said Chase.

"You—you don't mean to say, Mr. Chase, that you are going into thetown?" cried Lady Agnes, wide-eyed.

"Certainly, Lady Deppingham. They are expecting me."

"Don't be foolhardy, Chase. They will kill you like a rat," exclaimedDeppingham.

"Oh, no, they won't," said the other confidently. "They've given theirpromise through Rasula. Whatever else they may be, they hold a promisesacred. They know I'll come. If I don't, they'll know that I am acoward. You wouldn't have them think I am a coward, would you, LadyDeppingham?" he said, turning to look into her distressed face with hismost winning smile.

The next morning he coolly set forth for the gates, scarcely thinkingenough of the adventure to warrant the matter-of-fact "good-byes" thathe bestowed upon those who were congregated to see him off. His heartwas sore as he strode rapidly down the drive. Genevra had not come downto say farewell.

"By heaven," he muttered, strangely vexed with her, "I fancy she meansit. She's bent on showing me my place. But she might have come down andwished me good luck. That was little enough for her to do. Ah, well," hesighed, putting it away from him.

As he turned into the tree-lined avenue near the gate, a slender youngwoman in a green and white gown arose from a seat in the shade andstepped a pace forward, opening her parasol quite leisurely as hequickened his steps. His eyes gleamed with the sudden rush of joy thatfilled his whole being. She stood there, waiting for him, under thetrees. There was an expression in her face that he had never seen therebefore. She was smiling, it is true, but there was something likedefiance—yes, it was the set, strained smile of resolution that greetedhis eager exclamation. Her eyes gleamed brightly and she was breathingas one who has run swiftly.

"You are determined to go down there among those men?" she demanded, thesmile suddenly giving way to a look of disapproval. She ignored hishand.

"Certainly," he said, after the moment of bewilderment. "Why not? I—Ithought you had made up your mind to let me go without a—a word forgood luck." She found great difficulty in meeting the wistful look inhis eyes. "You are good to come down here to say good-bye—and howdy do,for that matter. We're almost strangers again."

"I did not come down to say good-bye," she said, her lips trembling everso slightly.

"I don't understand," he said.

"I am going with you into the town—as a witness," she said, and herface went pale at the thought of it. He drew back in amazement, staringat her as though he had not heard aright.

"Genevra," he cried, "you—you would do that?"

"Why not, Mr. Chase?" She tried to speak calmly, but she was trembling.After all, she was a slender, helpless girl—not an Amazon! "I saw andheard everything. They won't believe you unsupported. They won't harmme. They will treat me as they treat you. I have as much right to beheard against him as you. If I swear to them that what you say is truethey----"

Her hand was on his arm now, trembling, eager, yet charged with fear atthe prospect ahead of her. He clasped the little hand in his and quicklylifted it to his lips.

"I'm happy again," he cried. "It's all right with me now." She withdrewher hand on the instant.

"No, no! It isn't that," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Don'tmisinterpret my coming here to say that I will go. It isn't because—no,it isn't that!"

He hesitated an instant, looking deep into the bewildered eyes that methis with all the honesty that dwelt in her soul. He saw that she trustedhim to be fair with her.

"I was unhappy because you had forsaken me," he said gently. "You arebrave—you are wonderful! But I can't take you down there. I know whatwill happen if they find him guilty. Good-bye, dear one. I'll comeback—surely I'll come back. Thank you for sending me away happy."

"Won't you let me go with you?" she asked, after a long, penetratinglook into his eyes.

"I would not take you among them for all the world. You forget. Neitherof us would come back."

"Neither of us?" she said slowly.

"I wouldn't come back without you," he said quietly, earnestly. Sheunderstood. "Good-bye! Don't worry about me. I am in no danger."

"Good-bye," she said, the princess once more. "I shall pray foryou—with all my soul." She gave him her hand. It was cold and lifeless.He pressed it warmly and went quickly away, leaving her standing therein the still shade of the satinwoods, looking after him with eyes thatgrew wider and wider with the tears that welled up from behind.

Hours went by—slow, tortuous hours in which the souls of those whowatched and waited for his return were tried to the utmost. A restless,uncanny feeling prevailed: as if they were prisoners waiting in deadsilence for the sickening news that the trap on the scaffold had beendropped with all that was living of a fellow-cellmate, whom they hadknown and pitied for weeks.

Once there came to the ears of the watchers on the mountainside thesound of distant shouts, later, the brief rattle of firearms. The bloodof every one turned cold with, apprehension; every voice was stilled,every eye wide with dread. Neenah screamed as she fled across theterrace toward the drawbridge, where Selim stood as motionless as astatue.

Luncheon-time passed, and again, as if drawn by a magnet, the entirehousehold made its way to the front of the château.

At last Selim uttered a shout of joy. He forgot the deference due hisbetters and unceremoniously dashed off toward the gates, followed byNeenah, who seemed possessed of wings.

Chase was returning!

They saw him coming up the drive, his hat in his hand, his whiteumbrella raised above his head. He drew nearer, sauntering as carelesslyas if nothing unusual lay behind him in the morning hours. The eager,joyous watchers saw him greet Selim and his fluttering wife; they sawSelim fall upon his knees, and they felt the tears rushing to their owneyes.

"Hurray!" shouted little Mr. Saunders in his excitement. Bowles and thethree clerks joined him in the exhibition. Then the Persians and theTurks and the Arabs began to chatter; the servants, always cold andmorose, revealed signs of unusual emotion; the white people laughed asif suddenly delivered from extreme pain. The Princess was conscious ofthe fact that at least five or six pairs of eyes were watching her face.She closed her lips and compelled her eyelids to obey the dictates of aresentful heart: she lowered them until they gave one the impression ofindolent curiosity, even indifference. All the while, herincomprehensible heart was thumping with a rapture that knew noallegiance to royal conventions.

A few minutes later he was among them, listening with his cool,half-satirical smile to their protestations of joy and relief, assailedby more questions than he could well answer in a day, his everyexpression a protest against their contention that he had done a braveand wonderful thing.

"Nonsense," he said in his most deprecating voice, taking a seat besidethe Princess on the railing and fanning himself lazily with his hat tothe mortification of his body-servant, who waved a huge palm leaf invigorous adulation. "It was nothing. Just being a witness, that's all.You'll find how easy it is when you get back to London and have totestify in the Skaggs will contest. Tell the truth, that's all." ThePrincess was now looking at his brown face with eyes over which she hadlost control. "Oh, by the by," he said, as if struck by a suddenthought. He turned toward the shady court below, where the eagerrefugees from Aratat were congregated. A deep, almost sepulchral tonecame into his voice as he addressed himself to the veiled wives of Jacobvon Blitz. "It is my painful duty to announce to the Mesdames von Blitzthat they are widows."

There was a dead silence. The three women stared up at him,uncomprehending.

"Yes," he went on solemnly, "Jacob is no more. He was found guilty byhis judges and executed with commendable haste and precision. I will saythis for your lamented husband: he met his fate like a man and aGerman—without a quiver. He took his medicine bravely—twelve leadenpills administered by as many skilful surgeons. It is perhaps just aswell for you that you are widows. If he had lived long enough he wouldhave made a widower of himself." The three wives of Von Blitz huggedthemselves and cried out in their joy! "But it is yet too early tocongratulate yourselves on your freedom. Rasula has promised to kill allof us, whether we deserve it or not, so I daresay we'd better postponethe celebration until we're entirely out of the woods."

"They shot him?" demanded Deppingham, when he had finished.

"Admirably. By Jove, those fellows can shoot! They accepted my wordagainst his—which is most gratifying to my pride. One other mantestified against him—a chap who saw him with the Boers not ten minutesbefore the attempt was made to rob the vaults. Rasula appeared ascounsel for the defence. Merely a matter of form. He knew that he wasguilty. There was no talk of a new trial; no appeal to the supremecourt, Britt; no expense to the community."

He was as unconcerned about it as if discussing the most trivialhappening of the day. Five ancient men had sat with the venerable Cadias judges in the market-place. There were no frills, no disputes, nosumming up of the case by state or defendant. The judges weighed theevidence; they used their own judgment as to the law and the penalty.They found him guilty. Von Blitz lived not ten minutes after sentencewas passed.

"As to their intentions toward us," said Chase, "they are firm in theirdetermination that no one shall leave the château alive. Rasula wasquite frank with me. He is a cool devil. He calmly notified me that wewill all be dead inside of two weeks. No ships will put in here so longas the plague exists. It has been cleverly managed. I asked him how wewere to die and he smiled as though he was holding something back as asurprise for us. He came as near to laughing as I've ever seen him whenI asked him if he'd forgotten my warships. 'Why don't you have themhere?' he asked. 'We're not ready,' said I. 'The six months are not upfor nine days yet.' 'No one will come ashore for you,' he saidpointedly. I told him that he was making a great mistake in the attitudehe was taking toward the heirs, but he coolly informed me that it wasbest to eradicate all danger of the plague by destroying the germs, soto speak. He agreed with me that you have no chance in the courts, butmaintains that you'll keep up the fight as long as you live, so youmight just as well die to suit his convenience. I also made theinteresting discovery that suits have already been brought in England tobreak the will on the grounds of insanity."

"But what good will that do us if we are to die here?" exclaimed BobbyBrowne.

"None whatsoever," said Chase calmly. "You must admit, however, that youexhibited signs of hereditary insanity by coming here in the firstplace. I'm beginning to believe that there's a streak of it in myfamily, too."

"And you—you saw him killed?" asked the Princess in an awed voice, lowand full of horror.

"Yes. I could not avoid it."

"They killed him on your—on your—" she could not complete thesentence, but shuddered expressively.

"Yes. He deserved death, Princess. I am more or less like the Moslem inone respect. I might excuse a thief or a murderer, but I have no pityfor a traitor."

"You saw him killed," she said in the same awed voice, involuntarilydrawing away from him.

"Yes," he said, "and you would have seen him killed, too, if you hadgone down with me to appear against him."

She looked up quickly and then thanked him, almost in a whisper.

CHAPTER XXVIII

CENTURIES TO FORGET

"My lord," said Saunders the next day, appearing before his lordshipafter an agitated hour of preparation, "it's come to a point wheresomething's got to be done." He got that far and then turned quitepurple; his collar seemed to be choking him.

"Quite right, Saunders," said Deppingham, replacing his eyeglassnervously, "but who's going to do it and what is there to be done?"

"I'm—er—afraid you don't quite understand, sir," mumbled the littlesolicitor, glancing uneasily over his shoulder. "If what Mr. Chase saysis true, we've got a precious short time to live. Well, we've—we'veconcluded to get all we can out of the time that's left, my lord."

"I see," said the other, but he did not see.

"So I've come to ask if it will be all right with you and her ladyship,sir. We don't want to do anything that would seem forward and out ofplace, sir."

"It's very considerate of you, Saunders; but what the devil are youtalking about?"

"Haven't you heard, sir?"

"That we are to die? Certainly."

"That's not all, sir. Miss—Miss Pelham and I have decided toget—er—get married before it is too late."

Deppingham stared hard for a moment and then grinned broadly.

"You mean, before you die?"

"That's it exactly, my lord. Haw, haw! It would be a bit late,wouldn't it, if we waited till afterward? Haw, haw! Splendid! Butseriously, my lord, we've talked it all over and it strikes us both as avery clever thing to do. We had intended to wait till we got to London,but that seems quite out of the question now. Unless we do it up prettysharp, sir, we are likely to miss it altogether. So I have come to askif you think it will interfere with your arrangements if—if we shouldbe married to-night."

"I'm sure, Saunders, that it won't discommode me in the least," said hislordship genially. "By all means, Saunders, let it be to-night, forto-morrow we may die."

"Will you kindly speak to her ladyship, sir?"

"Gladly. And I'll take it as an honour if you will permit me to giveaway the bride."

"Thank you, my lord," cried Saunders, his face beaming. His lordshipshook hands with him, whereupon his cup of happiness overflowed,notwithstanding the fact that his honeymoon was likely to be of scarcelyany duration whatsoever. "I've already engaged Mr. Bowles, sir, for halfpast eight, and also the banquet hall, sir," he said, with his frankassurance.

"And I'll be happy, Saunders, to see to the wedding supper and therice," said his lordship. "Have you decided where you will go on yourwedding journey?"

"Yes, sir," said Saunders seriously, "God helping us, we'll go toEngland."

The wedding took place that night in the little chapel. It was not animposing celebration; neither was it attended by the gladsome revelrythat usually marks the nuptial event, no matter how humble. The veryfact that these two were being urged to matrimony by the uncertaintiesof life was sufficient to cast a spell of gloom over the guests and highcontracting parties alike. The optimism of Hollingsworth Chase lightenedthe shadows but little.

Chase deliberately took possession of the Princess after the hollowwedding supper had come to an end. He purposely avoided the hanginggarden and kept to the vine-covered balcony overlooking the sea. Hermood had changed. Now she was quite at ease with him; the taunting gleamin her dark eyes presaged evil moments for his peace of mind.

"I'm inspired," he said to her. "A wedding always inspires me."

"It's very strange that you've never married," she retorted. She wasstriding freely by his side, confident in her power to resist sentimentwith mockery.

"Will you be my wife?" he asked abruptly. She caught her breath beforelaughing tolerantly, and then looked into his eyes with a tantalisingingenuousness.

"By no means," she responded. "I am not oppressed by the same views thatactuated Miss Pelham. You see, Mr. Chase, I am quite confident that weare not to die in two weeks."

"I could almost wish that we could die in that time," he said.

"How very diabolical!"

"It may seem odd to you, but I'd rather see you dead than married toPrince Karl." She was silent. He went on: "Would you consent to be mywife if you felt in your heart that we should never leave this island?"

"You are talking nonsense," she said lightly.

"Perhaps. But would you?" he insisted.

"I think I shall go in, Mr. Chase," she said with a warning shake of herhead.

"Don't, please! I'm not asking you to marry me if we should leave theisland. You must give me credit for that," he argued whimsically.

"Ah, I see," she said, apparently very much relieved. "You want me onlywith the understanding that death should be quite close at hand torelieve you. And if I were to become your wife, here and now, and weshould be taken from this dreadful place—what then?"

"You probably would have to go through a long and miserable career asplain Goodwife Chase," he explained.

"If it will make you any happier," she said, with a smile in which therelurked a touch of mischievous triumph, "I can say that I might consentto marry you if I were not so positive that I will leave the islandsoon. You seem to forget that my uncle's yacht is to call here, eventhough your cruisers will not."

"I'll risk even that," he maintained stoutly.

She stopped suddenly, her hand upon his arm.

"Do you really love me?" she demanded earnestly.

"With all my soul, I swear to you," he replied, staggered by the abruptchange in her manner.

"Then don't make it any harder for me," she said. "You know that I couldnot do what you ask. Please, please be fair with me. I—I can't evenjest about it. It is too much to ask of me," she went on with a strangefirmness in her voice. "It would require centuries to make me forgetthat I am a princess, just as centuries were taken up in creating mewhat I am. I am no better than you, dear, but—but—you understand?" Shesaid it so pleadingly, so hopelessly that he understood what it was thatshe could not say to him. "We seldom if ever marry the men whom God hasmade for us to love."

He lifted her hands to his breast and held them there. "If you will justgo on loving me, I'll some day make you forget you're a princess." Shesmiled and shook her head. Her hair gleamed red and bronze in the kindlylight; a soft perfume came up to his nostrils.

The next day three of the native servants became violently ill, seizedby the most appalling convulsions. At first, a thrill of horror ranthrough the château. The plague! The plague in reality! Faces blanchedwhite with dread, hearts turned cold and sank like lead; a hundred eyeslooked out to sea with the last gleam of hope in their depths.

But these fears were quickly dissipated. Baillo and the other nativesunhesitatingly announced that the men were not afflicted with the "fatalsickness." As if to bear out these positive assertions, the suffererssoon began to mend. By nightfall they were fairly well recovered. Themysterious seizure, however, was unexplained. Chase alone divined thecause. He brooded darkly over the prospect that suddenly had presenteditself to his comprehension. Poison! He was sure of it! But who thepoisoner?

All previous perils and all that the future seemed to promise wereforgotten in the startling discovery that came with the fall of night.The first disclosures were succeeded by a frantic but ineffectual searchthroughout the grounds; the château was ransacked from top to bottom.

Lady Deppingham and Robert Browne were missing! They had disappeared asif swallowed by the earth itself!

Neenah, the wife of Selim, was the last of those in the château to seethe heirs. When the sun was low in the west, she observed them strollingleisurely along the outer edge of the moat. They crossed the swifttorrent by the narrow bridge at the base of the cliff and stopped belowthe mouth of the cavern which blew its cool breath out upon the hanginggarden. Later on, she saw them climb the staunch ladder and stand in theblack opening, apparently enjoying the cooling wind that came from thedamp bowels of the mountain. Her attention was called elsewhere, andthat was the last glimpse she had of the two people about whom centredthe struggle for untold riches.

It was not an unusual thing for the inhabitants of the château to climbto the mouth of the cavern. The men had penetrated its depths forseveral hundred yards, lighting their way by means of electric torches,but no one among them had undertaken the needless task of exploring itto the end. This much they knew: the cavern stretched to endlessdistances, wide in spots, narrow in others, treacherous yet attractivein its ugly, grave-like solitudes.

"God, Chase, they are lost in there!" groaned Deppingham, numb withapprehension. He was trembling like a leaf.

"There's just one thing to do," said Chase, "we've got to explore thatcavern to the end. They may have lost their bearings and strayed offinto one of the lateral passages."

"I—I can't bear the thought of her wandering about in that horribleplace," Deppingham cried as he started resolutely toward the ladders.

"She'll come out of it all right," said Chase, a sudden compassion inhis eyes.

Drusilla Browne was standing near by, cold and silent with dread, a setexpression in her eyes. Her lips moved slowly and Deppingham heard thebitter words:

"You will find them, Lord Deppingham. You will find them!"

He stopped and passed his hand over his eyes. Then, without a word, hesnatched a rifle from the hands of one of the patrol, and led the way upthe ladder. As he paused at the top to await the approach of hiscompanions, Chase turned to the white-faced Princess and said, betweenhis teeth:

"If Skaggs and Wyckholme had been in the employ of the devil himselfthey could not have foreseen the result of their infernal plotting. I amafraid—mortally afraid!"

"Take care of him, Hollingsworth," she whispered shuddering.

The last glow of sunset, reflected in the western sky, fell upon thetall figure of the Englishman in the mouth of the cavern. Tragedy seemedto be waiting to cast its mantel about him from behind.

"Good-bye, Genevra, my Princess," said Chase softly, and then was offwith Britt and Selim. As he passed Drusilla, he seized her hand andpaused long enough to say:

"It's all right, little woman, take my word for it. If I were you, I'dcry. You'll see things differently through your tears."

The four men, with their lights, vanished from sight a few momentslater. Chase grasped Deppingham's arm and held him back, gravelysuggesting that Selim should lead the way.

They were to learn the truth almost before they had fairly begun theirinvestigations.

The heirs already were in the hands of their enemies, the islanders!

The appalling truth burst upon them with a suddenness that stunned theirsensibilities for many minutes. All doubt was swept away by therevelation.

The eager searchers, shouting as they went, had picked their way downthe steps in the sloping floor of the cavern, down through the windinggalleries and clammy grottoes, their voices booming ever and anonagainst the silent walls with the roar of foghorns. Now they had come towhat was known as "the Cathedral." This was a wide, lofty chamber, hungwith dripping stalactites, far below the level at which they began thedescent. The floor was almost as flat and even as that of a moderndwelling. Here the cavern branched off in three or four directions, likethe tentacles of a monster devilfish, the narrow passages leading no oneknew whither in that tomb-like mountain.

Selim uttered the first shout of surprise and consternation. Then thefour of them rushed forward, their eyes almost starting from theirsockets. An instant later they were standing at the edge of a vast holein the floor—newly made and pregnant with disaster.

A current of air swept up into their faces. The soft, loose earth aboutthe rent in the floor was covered with the prints of naked feet; thebottom of the hole was packed down in places by a multitude of tracks.Chase's bewildered eyes were the first to discover the presence ofloose, scattered masonry in the pile below and the truth dawned upon himsharply. He gave a loud exclamation and then dropped lightly into theshallow hole.

"I've got it!" he shouted, stooping to peer intently ahead. "Von Blitz'spowder kegs did all this. The secret passage runs along here. One of thedischarges blew this hole through the roof of the passage. Here are thewalls of the passage. By heaven, the way is open to the sea!"

"My God, Chase!" cried Deppingham, staggering toward the opening. "Thesefootprints are—God! They've murdered her! They've come in here andsurprised----"

"Go easy, old man! We need to be cool now. It's all as plain as day tome. Rasula and his men were exploring the passage after the discovery ofthe treasure chests. They came upon this new-made hole and then crawledinto the cavern. They surprised Browne and—Yes, here are the prints ofa woman's shoe—and a man's, too. They're gone, God help 'em!"

He climbed out of the hole and rushed about "the Cathedral" in search offurther evidence. Deppingham dropped suddenly to his knees and buriedhis face in his hands, sobbing like a child.

It was all made plain to the searchers. Signs of a fierce struggle werefound near the entrance to the Cathedral. Bobby Browne had made agallant fight. Blood stains marked the smooth floor and walls, and therewas evidence that a body had been dragged across the chamber.

Britt put his hand over his eyes and shuddered. "They've settled thiscontest, Chase, forever!" he groaned.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE PURSUIT

Deppingham sprang to his feet with a fierce oath on his lips. Hisusually lustreless eyes were gleaming with something more than despair;there was the wild light of unmistakable relief in them. It was as if ahorrid doubt had been scaled from the soul of Lady Deppingham's husband.

"We must follow!" shouted his lordship, preparing to lower himself intothe jagged opening. "We may be in time!"

"Stop, Deppingham!" cried Chase, leaping to his side. "Don't rushblindly into a trap like that. Let's consider for a moment."

They had it back and forth for many minutes, the united efforts of thethree men being required to keep the half-frantic Englishman fromrushing alone into the passage. Reason at last prevailed.

"They've got an hour or more start of us," argued Chase. "Nothing willbe accomplished by rushing into an ambush. They'd kill us like rats.Rasula is a sagacious scoundrel. He'll not take the entireresponsibility. There will be a council of all the head men. It will beof no advantage to them to kill the heirs unless they are sure that wewon't live to tell the tale. They will go slow, now that they have thechief obstacles to victory in their hands."

"If they will give her up to me, I will guarantee that Lady Agnes shallrelinquish all claim to the estate," announced the harassed husband.

"They won't do that, old man. Promises won't tempt them," protestedChase. "We've got to do what we can to rescue them. I'm with you,gentlemen, in the undertaking, first for humanity's sake; secondly,because I am your friend; lastly, because I don't want my clients tolose all chance of winning out in this controversy by acting likeconfounded asses. It isn't what Sir John expects of me. Now, let'sconsider the situation sensibly."

In the meantime, the anxious coterie in the château were waiting eagerlyfor the return of the searchers. Night had fallen swiftly. The Princessand Drusilla were walking restlessly back and forth, singularly quietand constrained. The latter sighed now and then in a manner that wentdirectly to the heart of her companion. Genevra recognised the futilityof imposing her sympathies in the face of this significant reserve.

Drusilla made one remark, half unconsciously, no doubt, that rasped inthe ears of the Princess for days. It was the cold, bitter, resignedepitome of the young wife's thoughts.

"Robert has loved her for months." That was all.

Mr. and Mrs. Saunders, thankful that something had happened to divertattention from their own conspicuous plight, were discoursing freely inthe centre of a group composed of the four Englishmen from the bank, allof whom had deserted their posts of duty to hear the details of theamazing disappearance.

"It's a plain out and out elopement," said Mrs. Saunders, fanningherself vigorously.

"But, my dear," expostulated her husband, blushing vividly over thefirst public use of the appellation, "where the devil could they elopeto?"

"I don't know, Tommy, but elopers never take that into consideration. Dothey, Mr. Bowles?"

Mr. Bowles readjusted the little red forage cap and said he'd be hangedif he knew the eloping symptoms.

At last the four men appeared in the mouth of the cavern. The watchersbelow fell into chilled silence when they discovered that the missingones were not with them. Stupefied with apprehension, they watched themen descend the ladder and cross the bridge.

"They are dead!" fell from Brasilia Browne's lips. She swayed for aninstant and then sank to the ground, unconscious.

In the conference which followed the return of the searchers, it wassettled that three of the original party should undertake the furtherprosecution of the hunt for the two heirs. Lord Deppingham found readyvolunteers in Chase and the faithful Selim. They prepared to go out inthe hills before the night was an hour older. Selim argued that theabductors would not take their prisoners to the town of Aratat. Heunderstood them well enough to know that they fully appreciated thedanger of an uprising among those who were known to be openly opposed tothe high-handed operations of Rasula and his constituency. He convincedChase that the wily Rasula would carry his captives to the mines, wherehe was in full power.

"You're right, Selim. If he's tried that game we'll beat him at it. Tento one, if he hasn't already chucked them into the sea, they're nowconfined in one of the mills over there."

They were ready to start in a very short time. Selim carried a quantityof food and a small supply of brandy. Each was heavily armed andprepared for a stiff battle with the abductors. They were to go by wayof the upper gate, taking chances on leaving the park without discoveryby the sentinels.

"We seem constantly to be saying good-bye to each other." Thus spoke thePrincess to Chase as he stood at the top of the steps waiting for Selim.The darkness hid the wan, despairing smile that gave the lie to hersprightly words.

"And I'm always doing the unexpected thing—coming back. This time I mayvary the monotony by failing to return."

"I should think you could vary it more pleasantly by not going away,"she said. "You will be careful?"

"The danger is here, not out there," he said meaningly.

"You mean—me? But, like all danger, I soon shall pass. In a few days, Ishall say good-bye forever and sail away."

"How much better it would be for you if this were the last good-bye—andI should not come back."

"For me?"

"Yes. You could marry the Prince without having me on your conscienceforevermore."

"Mr. Chase!"

"It's easier to forget the dead than the living, they say."

"Don't be too sure of that."

"Ah, there's Selim! Good-bye! We'll have good news for you all, I hope,before long. Keep your eyes on Neenah. She and Selim have arranged a setof signals. Don't lie awake all night—and don't pray for me," hescoffed, in reckless mood.

The three men stole out through the small gate in the upper end of thepark. Selim at once took the lead. They crept off into the black forest,keeping clear of the mountain path until they were far from the walls.It was hard going among the thickly grown, low-hanging trees. They werewithout lights; the jungle was wrapped in the blackness of night; thetrail was unmade and arduous. For more than a mile they crept throughthe unbroken vegetation of the tropics, finally making their way down tothe beaten path which led past the ruins of the bungalow and up to themountain road that provided a short cut around the volcano to thehighlands overlooking the mines district in the cradle-like valleybeyond.

Deppingham had not spoken since they left the park grounds. He camesecond in the single file that they observed, striding silently andobediently at the given twenty paces behind Selim. They kept to thegrassy roadside and moved swiftly and with as little noise as possible.By this time, their eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness; theycould distinguish one another quite clearly. The starlight filtered downthrough the leafy canopy above the road, increasing rather thandecreasing the density of the shadows through which they sped. None butstrong, determined, inspired men could have followed the pace set by thelithe, surefooted Selim.

Mile after mile fell behind them, with no relaxation of energy orpurpose. Chase found time and opportunity to give his thoughts over toGenevra. A mighty longing to clasp her in his arms and carry her to theends of the earth took possession of him: a longing to drag her far fromthe conventions which bound her to a world he could not enter into. Downin his heart, he knew that she loved him: it was not a play-day follywith her. And yet he knew that the end would be as she had said. Shewould be the wife of the man she did not love. Fate had given her to himwhen the world was young; there was no escape. In story-books, perhaps,but not in real life. And how he had come to love her!

They were coming to the ridge road and Selim fell back to explain theneed for caution. The ridge road crept along the brow of the deep canyonthat ran down to the sea. This was the road, in all likelihood, heexplained, that the abductors would have used in their flight from thecavern. Two miles farther south it joined the wide highway that ran fromAratat to the mines.

Selim crept on ahead to reconnoitre. He was back in ten minutes with theinformation that a party of men had but lately passed along the roadtoward the south. Their footprints in the soft, untraveled road werefresh. The stub of a cigarette that had scarcely burned itself outproved to him conclusively that the smoker, at least, was not far aheadof them.

They broke away from the road and took a less exposed course through theforest to their right, keeping well within earshot of the ridge, butmoving so carefully that there was slight danger of alarming the partyahead. The fact that the abductors—there seemed to be no doubt as toidentity—had spent several hours longer than necessary in traversingthe distance between the cave and the point just passed, proving ratherconclusively that they were encumbered by living, not dead, burdens.

At last the sound of voices came to the ears of the pursuers. As theycrept closer and closer, they became aware of the fact that the partyhad halted and were wrangling among themselves over some point indispute. With Selim in the lead, crawling like panthers through thedense undergrowth, the trio came to the edge of the timber land. Beforethem lay the dark, treeless valley; almost directly below them, notfifty yards away, clustered the group of disputing islanders, a dozenmen in all, with half as many flaring torches.

They had halted in the roadway at the point where a sharp defile throughthe rocks opened a way down into the valley. Like snakes the pursuerswriggled their way to a point just above the small basin in which theparty was congregated.

A great throb of exultation leaped up from their hearts, In plain view,at the side of the road, were the two persons for whom they weresearching.

"God, luck is with us," whispered Chase unconsciously.

Lady Agnes, dishevelled, her dress half stripped from her person, wasseated upon a great boulder, staring hopelessly, lifelessly at the crowdof men in the roadway. Beside her stood a tall islander, watching herand at the same time listening eagerly to the dispute that went onbetween his fellows. She was not bound; her hands and feet and lips werefree. The glow from the torches held by gesticulating hands fell uponher tired, frightened face. Deppingham groaned aloud as he looked downupon the wretched, hopeless woman that he loved and had come out to diefor.

Bobby Browne was standing near by. His hands were tightly bound behindhis back. His face was blood-covered and the upper part of his body wasalmost bare, evidence of the struggle he had made against overwhelmingodds. He was staring at the ground, his head and shoulders drooping inutter dejection.

The cause of the slow progress made by the attacking party was alsoapparent after a moment's survey of the situation. Three of the treasurechests were standing beside the road, affording seats for as many wearycarriers. It was all quite plain to Chase. Rasula and his men hadchanced upon the two white people during one of their trips to the cavefor the purpose of removing the chests. Moreover, it was reasonable toassume that this lot of chests represented the last of those stored awayby Von Blitz. The others had been borne away by detachments of men wholeft the cave before the discovery and capture of the heirs.

Rasula was haranguing the crowd of men in the road. The hidden listenerscould hear and understand every word he uttered.

"It is the only way," he was shouting angrily. "We cannot take them intothe town to-night—maybe not for two or three days. Some there are inAratat who would end their lives before sunrise. I say to you that wecannot put them to death until we are sure that the others have nochance to escape to England. I am a lawyer. I know what it would mean ifthe story got to the ears of the government. We have them safely in ourhands. The others will soon die. Then—then there can be no mistake!They must be taken to the mines and kept there until I have explainedeverything to the people. Part of us shall conduct them to the lowermill and the rest of us go on to the bank with these chests of gold." Inthe end, after much grumbling and fierce quarreling, in which theprisoners took little or no interest, the band was divided into twoparts. Rasula and six of the sturdiest men prepared to continue thejourney to Aratat, transporting the chests. Five sullen, resentfulfellows moved over beside the captives and threw themselves down uponthe grassy sward, lighting their cigarettes with all the philosophicalindifference of men who regard themselves as put upon by others at atime when there is no alternative.

"We will wait here till day comes," growled one of them defiantly. "Whyshould we risk our necks going down the pass to-night? It is oneo'clock. The sun will be here in three hours. Go on!"

"As you like, Abou Dal," said Rasula, shrugging his pinched shoulders."I shall come to the mill at six o'clock." Turning to the prisoners, hebowed low and said, with a soft laugh: "Adios, my lady, and you, mostnoble sir. May your dreams be pleasant ones. Dream that you are weddedand have come into the wealth of Japat, but spare none of your dream tothe husband and wife, who are lying awake and weeping for the foolishones who would go searching for the forbidden fruit. Folly is a hard roadto travel and it leads to the graveyard of fools. Adios!"

Lady Agnes bent over and dropped her face into her hands. She wastrembling convulsively. Browne did not show the slightest sign that hehad heard the galling words.

At a single sharp command, the six men picked up the three chests andmoved off rapidly down the road Rasula striding ahead with the flaringtorch.

They were barely out of sight beyond the turn in the hill whenDeppingham moved as though impulse was driving him into immediate attackupon the guards who were left behind with the unhappy prisoners. Chaselaid a restraining hand upon his arm.

"Wait! Plenty of time. Wait an hour. Don't spoil everything. We'll savethem sure," he breathed in the other's ear. Deppingham's groan wasalmost loud enough to have been heard above the rustling leaves and thecollective maledictions of the disgusted islanders.

The minutes slipped by with excruciating slowness The wakeful eyes ofthe three watchers missed nothing that took place in the littlegrass-grown niche below them They could have sprung almost into thecentre of the group from the position they occupied. Utterly unconsciousof the surveillance, the islanders gradually sunk into a morose, stupidsilence. If the watchers hoped that they might go to sleep they were tobe disappointed Two of the men sat with their backs to the rocks, theirrifles across their knees. The others sprawled lazily upon the softgrass. Two torches, stuck in the earth, threw a weird light over thescene.

Bobby Browne was now lying with his shoulder against a fallentree-trunk, staring with unswerving gaze at the woman across the way.She was looking off into the night, steadfastly refusing to glance inhis direction. For fully half an hour this almost speaking tableaupresented itself to the spectators above.

Then suddenly Lady Agnes arose to her feet and lifted her hands hightoward the black dome of heaven, Salammbo-like, and prayed aloud to herGod, the sneering islanders looking on in silent derision.

CHAPTER XXX

THE PERSIAN ANGEL

The man called Abou suddenly leaped to his feet, and, with the cry of aneager animal, sprang to her side. His arms closed about her slenderfigure with the unmistakable lust of the victor. A piteous,heart-rending shriek left her lips as he raised her clear of the groundand started toward the dense shadows across the road. Herterror-stricken face was turned to the light; her cries for mercy weredirected to the brute's companions.

They did not respond, but another did. A hoarse, inarticulate cry ofrage burst from Deppingham's lips. His figure shot out through the airand down the short slope with the rush of an infuriated beast. Even asthe astonished Abou dropped his struggling burden to meet the attack ofthe unexpected deliverer, he was felled to the earth by a mighty blowfrom the rifle which his assailant swung swift and true. His skull wascrushed as if it were an eggshell.

Lady Agnes struggled to her feet, wild-eyed, half crazed by the doubleassault. The next instant she fell forward upon her face, dead to allthat was to follow in the next few minutes. Her glazed eyes caught afleeting glimpse of the figures that seemed to sweep down from the sky,and then all was blank.

There was no struggle. Chase and Selim were upon the stupefied islandersbefore they could move, covering them with their rifles. The wretchesfell upon their knees and howled for mercy. While Deppingham was holdinghis wife's limp form in his arms, calling out to her in the agony offear, utterly oblivious to all else that was happening about him, histwo friends were swiftly disarming the grovelling natives. Selim's knifesevered the cords that bound Bobby Browne's hands; he was staringblankly, dizzily before him, and many minutes passed before he was ableto comprehend that deliverance had come.

Ten minutes later Chase was addressing himself to the four islanders,who, bound and gagged, were tied by their own sashes to trees somedistance from the roadside.

"I've just thought of a little service you fellows can perform for me inreturn for what I've done for you. All the time you're doing it,however, there will be pistols quite close to your backs. I find thatLady Deppingham is much too weak to take the five miles' walk we've gotto do in the next two hours—or less. You are to have the honour ofcarrying her four miles and a half, and you will have to get along thebest you can with the gags in your mouths. I'm rather proud of theinspiration. We were up against it, hard, until I thought of you fellowswasting your time up here in the woods. Corking scheme, isn't it? Two ofyou form a basket with your hands—I'll show you how. You carry her forhalf a mile; then the other two may have the satisfaction of doingsomething just as handsome for the next half mile—and so on. Great,eh?"

And it was in just that fashion that the party started off without delayin the direction of the château. Two of the cowed but eager islanderswere carrying her ladyship between them, Deppingham striding closebehind in a position to catch her should she again lose consciousness.Her tense fingers clung to the straining shoulders of the carriers, and,although she swayed dizzily from time to time, she maintained her tryingposition with extreme courage and cool-headedness. Now and then shebreathed aloud the name of her husband, as if to assure herself that hewas near at hand. She kept her eyes closed tightly, apparently unitingevery vestige of force in the effort to hold herself together throughthe last stages of the frightful ordeal which had fallen to her thatnight.

With Selim in the lead, the little procession moved swiftly butcautiously through the black jungle, bent on reaching the gate ifpossible before the night lifted. Chase and Bobby Browne brought up therear with the two reserve carriers in hand. Browne, weak and sufferingfrom torture and exposure, struggled bravely along, determined not toretard their progress by a single movement of indecision. He had talkedvolubly for the first few minutes after their rescue, but now was silentand intent upon thoughts of his own. His head and face were bruised andcut; his body was stiff and sore from the effects of his valiant battlein the cavern and the subsequent hardships of the march.

In his heart Bobby Browne was now raging against the fate that hadplaced him in this humiliating, almost contemptible position. He, and healone, was responsible for the sufferings that Lady Agnes had endured:it was as gall and wormwood to him that other men had been ordained tosave her from the misery that he had created. He could almost havewelcomed death for himself and her rather than to have been saved byGeorge Deppingham. As he staggered along, propelled by the resistlessforce which he knew to be a desire to live in spite of it all, he waswondering how he could ever hold up his head again in the presence ofthose who damned him, even as they had prayed for him.

His wife! He could never be the same to her. He had forfeited the trustand confidence of the one loyal believer among them all.... And now,Lady Deppingham loathed him because his weakness had been greater thanhers!

When he would have slain the four helpless islanders with his own hands,Hollingsworth Chase had stayed his rage with the single, causticadjuration:

"Keep out of this, Browne! You've been enough of a damned bounderwithout trying that sort of thing."

Tears were in Bobby Browne's eyes as, mile after mile, he blunderedalong at the side of his fellow-countryman, his heart bleeding itselfdry through the wound those words had made.

It was still pitch dark when they came to the ridge above the park.Through the trees the lights in the château could be seen. Lady Agnesopened her eyes and cried out in tremulous joy. A great wave ofexaltation swept over Hollingsworth Chase. She was watching andwaiting there with the others!

"Dame Fortune is good to us," he said, quite irrelevantly. Selimmuttered the sacred word "Allah." Chase's trend of thought, whatever itmay have been, was ruthlessly checked. "That reminds me," he saidbriskly, "we can't waste Allah's time in dawdling here. Luck has beenwith us—and Allah, too—great is Allah! But we'll have to do someskilful sneaking on our own hook, just the same. If the upper gate isbeing watched—and I doubt it very much—we'll have a hard time gettinginside the walls, signal or no signal. The first thing for us to do isto make everything nice and snug for our four friends here. You'velaboured well and faithfully," he said to the panting islanders, "andI'm going to reward you. I'm going to set you free. But not yet. Don'trejoice. First, we shall tie you securely to four stout trees just offthe road. Then we'll leave you to take a brief, much-needed rest. LadyDeppingham, I fancy, can walk the rest of the way through the woods.Just as soon as we are inside the walls, I'll find some way to let yourfriends know that you are here. You can explain the situation to thembetter than I can. Tell 'em that it might have been worse."

He and Selim promptly marched the bewildered islanders into the wood.Bobby Browne, utterly exhausted, had thrown himself to the soft earth.Lady Deppingham was standing, swaying but resolute, her gaze upon thedistant, friendly windows.

At last she turned to look at her husband, timorously, an appeal in hereyes that the darkness hid. He was staring at her, a stark figure in thenight. After a long, tense moment of indecision, she held out her handsand he sprang forward in time to catch her as she swayed toward him. Shewas sobbing in his arms. Bobby Browne's heavy breathing ceased in thatinstant, and he closed his ears against the sound that came to them.

Deppingham gently implored her to sit down with him and rest. Togetherthey walked a few paces farther away from their companion and sat downby the roadside. For many minutes no word was spoken; neither couldwhisper the words that were so hard in finding their way up from thedepths. At last she said:

"I've made you unhappy. I've been so foolish. It has not been fun,either, my husband. God knows it hasn't. You do not love me now."

He did not answer her at once and she shivered fearfully in his arms.Then he kissed her brow gently.

"I do love you, Agnes," he said intensely. "I will answer for my ownlove if you can answer for yours. Are you the same Agnes that you were?My Agnes?"

"Will you believe me?"

"Yes."

"I could lie to you—God knows I would lie to you."

"I—I would rather you lied to me than to---"

"I know. Don't say it. George," as she put her hands to his face andwhispered in all the fierceness of a desperate longing to convince him,"I am the same Agnes. I am your Agnes. I am! You do believe me?"

He crushed her close to his breast and then patted her shoulder as afather might have touched an erring child.

"That's all I ask of you," he said. She lay still and almost breathlessfor a long time.

At last she spoke: "It is not wholly his fault, George. I was to blame.I led him on. You understand?"

"Poor devil!" said he drily. "It's a way you have, dear."

The object of this gentle commiseration was staring with gloomy eyes atthe lights below. He was saying to himself, over and over again: "If Ican only make Drusie understand!"

Chase and Selim came down upon this little low-toned picture. The formerpaused an instant and smiled joyously in the darkness.

"Come," was all he said. Without a word the three arose and started offdown the road. A few hundred feet farther on, Selim abruptly turned offamong the trees. They made their way slowly, cautiously to a pointscarcely a hundred feet from the wall and somewhat to the right of thesmall gate. Here he left them and crept stealthily away. A few minuteslater he crept back to them, a soft hiss on his lips.

"Five men are near the gate," he whispered. "They watch so closely thatno one may go to rescue those who have disappeared. Friends are hiddeninside the wall, ready to open the gate at a signal. They have waitedwith Neenah all night. And day is near, sahib."

"We must attack at once," said Chase. "We can take them by surprise. Nokilling, mind you. They're not looking for anything to happen outsidethe walls. It will be easy if we are careful. No shooting unlessnecessary. If we should fail to surprise them, Selim and I will dash offinto the forest and they will follow us, Then, Deppingham, you andBrowne get Lady Deppingham inside the gate. We'll look out forourselves. Quiet now!"

Five shadowy figures soon were distinguished huddled close to the wallbelow the gate. The sense of sight had become keen during those tryinghours in the darkness.

The islanders were conversing in low tones, a word or two now and thenreaching the ears of the others. It was evident from what was beingsaid, that, earlier in the evening, messengers had carried the news fromRasula to the town; the entire population was now aware of theastounding capture of the two heirs. There had been rejoicing; it waseasy to picture the populace lying in wait for the expected relief partyfrom the château.

Suddenly a blinding, mysterious light flashed upon the muttering group.As they fell back, a voice, low and firm, called out to them:

"Not a sound or you die!"

Four unwavering rifles were bearing upon the surprised islanders andfour very material men were advancing from the ghostly darkness. Anelectric lantern shot a ray of light athwart the scene.

"Drop your guns—quick!" commanded Chase. "Don't make a row!"

Paralysed with fear and amazement, the men obeyed. They could not havedone otherwise. The odds were against them; they were bewildered; theyknew not how to combat what seemed to them an absolutely supernaturalforce.

While the three white men kept them covered with their rifles, Selim ranto the gate, uttering the shrill cry of a night bird. There was a rushof feet inside the walls, subdued exclamations, and then a glad cry.

"Quick!" called Selim. The keys rattled in the locks, the bolts werethrown down, and an instant later, Lady Deppingham was flying across thespace which intervened between her and the gate, where five or sixfigures were huddled and calling out eagerly for haste.

The men were beside her a moment later, possessed of the weapons of thehelpless sentinels. With a crash the gates were closed and a joyouslaugh rang out from the exultant throat of Hollingsworth Chase.

"By the Lord Harry, this is worth while!" he shouted. Outside, themaddened guards were sounding the tardy alarm. Chase called out to themand told them where they could find the four men in the forest. Then heturned to follow the group that had scurried off toward the château. Thefirst grey shade of day was coming into the night.

He saw Neenah ahead of him, standing still in the centre of thegravelled path. Beyond her was the tall figure of a man.

"You are a trump, Neenah," cried Chase, hurrying up to her. "A Persianangel!"

It was not Neenah's laugh that replied. Chase gasped in amazement andthen uttered a cry of joy.

The Princess Genevra, slim and erect, was standing before him, her handtouching her turban in true military salute, soft laughter rippling fromher lips.

In the exuberance of joy, he clasped that little hand and crushed itagainst his lips.

"You!" he exclaimed.

"Sh!" she warned, "I have retained my guard of honour."

He looked beyond her and beheld the tall, soldierly figure of aRapp-Thorberg guardsman.

"The devil!" fell involuntarily from his lips.

"Not at all. He is here to keep me from going to the devil," she criedso merrily that he laughed aloud with her in the spirit of unboundedjoy. "Come! Let us run after the others. I want to run and dance andsing."

He still held her hand as they ran swiftly down the drive, followedclosely by the faithful sergeant.

"You are an angel," he said in her ear. She laughed as she looked upinto his face.

"Yes—a Persian angel," she cried. "It's so much easier to run well in aPersian angel's costume," she added.

CHAPTER XXXI

A PRESCRIBED MALADY

"You are wonderful, staying out there all night watching for—us." Hewas about to say "me."

"How could any one sleep? Neenah found this dress for me—aren't thesebaggy trousers funny? She rifled the late Mr. Wyckholme's wardrobe. Thiscostume once adorned a sultana, I'm told. It is a most pricelesstreasure. I wore it to-night because I was much less conspicuous as asultana than I might have been had I gone to the wall as a princess."

"I like you best as the Princess," he said, frankly surveying her in thegrey light.

"I think I like myself as the Princess, too," she said naïvely. Hesighed deeply. They were quite close to the excited group on the terracewhen she said: "I am very, very happy now, after the most miserablenight I have ever known. I was so troubled and afraid----"

"Just because I went away for that little while? Don't forget that I amsoon to go out from you for all time. How then?"

"Ah, but then I will have Paris," she cried gaily. He was puzzled by hermood—but then, why not? What could he be expected to know of the moodsof royal princesses? No more than he could know of their loves.

Lady Deppingham was got to bed at once. The Princess, more thrilled byexcitement than she ever had been in her life, attended her friend. Inthe sanctity of her chamber, the exhausted young Englishwoman bared hersoul to this wise, sympathetic young woman in Persian vestment.

"Genevra," she said solemnly, in the end, "take warning from my example.When you once are married, don't trifle with other men—not even if youshouldn't love your husband. Sooner or later you'd get tripped up. Itdoesn't pay, my dear. I never realised until tonight how much I reallycare for Deppy and I am horribly afraid that I've lost something I cannever recover. I've made him unhappy and—and—all that. Can you tell mewhat it is that made me—but never mind! I'm going to be good."

"You were not in love with Mr. Browne. That is why I can't understandyou, Agnes."

"My dear, I don't understand myself. How can I expect you or my husbandto understand me? How could I expect it of Bobby Browne? Oh, dear; oh,dear, how tired I am! I think I shall never move out of this bed again.What a horrible, horrible time I've had." She sat up suddenly and staredwide-eyed before her, looking upon phantoms that came out of the hoursjust gone.

"Hush, dear! Lie down and go to sleep. You will feel better in a littlewhile." Lady Agnes abruptly turned to her with a light in her eyes thatchecked the kindly impulses.

"Genevra, you are in love—madly in love with Hollingsworth Chase. Takemy advice: marry him. He's one man in a—" Genevra placed her hand overthe lips of the feverish young woman.

"I will not listen to anything more about Mr. Chase," she said firmly."I am tired—tired to death of being told that I should marry him."

"But you love him," Lady Agnes managed to mumble, despite the gentleimpediment.

"I do love him, yes, I do love him," cried the Princess, castingreserve to the winds. "He knows it—every one knows it. But marry him?No—no—no! I shall marry Karl. My father, my mother, my grandfather,have said so—and I have said it, too. And his father and grandfatherand a dozen great grandparents have ordained that he shall marry aprincess and I a prince, That ends it, Agnes! Don't speak of it again."She cast herself down upon the side of the bed and clenched her hands inthe fierceness of despair and—decision. After a moment, Lady Agnes saiddreamily: "I climbed up the ladder to make a 'ladyship' of myself bymarriage and I find I love my husband. I daresay if you should go downthe ladder a few rounds, my dear, you might be as lucky. But take myadvice, if you won't marry Hollingsworth Chase, don't let him come toParis."

The Princess Genevra lifted her face instantly, a startled expression inher eyes.

"Agnes, you forget yourself!"

"My dear," murmured Lady Agnes sleepily, "forgive me, but I have such ashockingly absent mind." She was asleep a moment later.

In the meantime, Bobby Browne, disdaining all commands and entreaties,refused to be put to bed until he had related the story of their captureand the subsequent events that made the night memorable. He talkedrapidly, feverishly, as if every particle of energy was necessary to thetask of justifying himself in some measure for the night's mishap. Hesat with his rigid arm about his wife's shoulders. Drusilla was strokingone of his hands in a half-conscious manner, her eyes staring past hisface toward the dark forest from which he had come. Mr. Britt wasordering brandy and wine for his trembling client.

"After all," said Browne, hoarse with nervousness, "there is some goodto be derived from our experiences, hard as it may be to believe. I havefound out the means by which Rasula intends to destroy every livingcreature in the château." He made this statement at the close of thebrief, spasmodic recital covering the events of the night. Every onedrew nearer. Chase threw off his spell of languidness and looked hard atthe speaker. "Rasula coolly asked me, at one of our resting places, ifthere had been any symptoms of poisoning among us. I mentioned Pong andthe servants. The devil laughed gleefully in my face and told me that itwas but the beginning. I tell you. Chase, we can't escape the diabolicalscheme he has arranged. We are all to be poisoned—I don't see how wecan avoid it if we stay here much longer. It is to be a case of slowdeath by the most insidious scheme of poisoning imaginable, or, on theother hand, death by starvation and thirst. The water that comes to usfrom the springs up there in the hills is to be poisoned by thosedevils."

There were exclamations of unbelief, followed by the sharp realisationthat he was, after all, pronouncing doom upon each and every one ofthose who listened.

"Rasula knows that we have no means of securing water except from thesprings. Several days ago his men dumped a great quantity of some sortof poison into the stream—a poison that is used in washing or polishingthe rubies, whatever it is. Well, that put the idea into his head. He isgoing about it shrewdly, systematically. I heard him giving instructionsto one of his lieutenants. He thought I was still unconscious from ablow I received when I tried to interfere in behalf of Lady Agnes, whowas being roughly dragged along the mountain road. Day and night adetachment of men are to be employed at the springs, deliberatelyengaged in the attempt to change the flow of pure water into a slow,subtle, deadly poison, the effects of which will not be immediatelyfatal, but positively so in the course of a few days. Every drop ofwater that we drink or use in any way will be polluted with this deadlycyanide. It's only a question of time. In the end we shall sicken anddie as with the scourge. They will call it the plague!"

A shudder of horror swept through the crowd. Every one looked into hisneighbour's face with a profound inquiring light in his eyes, seekingfor the first evidence of approaching death.

Hollingsworth Chase uttered a short, scornful laugh as he unconcernedlylifted a match to one of his precious cigarettes. The others stared athim in amazement. He had been exceedingly thoughtful and preoccupied upto that moment.

"Great God, Chase!" groaned Browne. "Is this a joke?"

"Yes—and it's on Rasula," said the other laconically.

"But even now, man, they are introducing this poison into oursystems----"

"You say that Rasula isn't aware of the fact that you overheard what hesaid to his man? Then, even now, in spite of your escape, he believesthat we may go on drinking the water without in the least suspectingwhat it has in store for us. Good! That's why I say the joke is on him."

"But, my God, we must have water to drink," cried Britt. Mrs. Saundersalone divined the thought that filled Chase's mind. She clapped herhands and cried out wonderingly:

"I know! I—I took depositions in a poisoning case two years ago. Why,of course!"

"Browne, you are a doctor—a chemist," said Chase calmly, firstbestowing a fine smile upon the eager Mrs. Saunders. "Well, we'll distiland double and triple distil the water. That's all. A schoolboy mighthave thought of that. It's all right, old man. You're fa*gged out; yourbrain isn't working well. Don't look so crestfallen. Mr. Britt, you andMr. Saunders will give immediate instructions that no more water is tobe drunk—or used—until Mr. Browne has had a few hours' rest. He cantake an alcohol bath and we can all drink wine. It won't hurt us. At teno'clock sharp Dr. Browne will begin operating the distilling apparatusin the laboratory. As a matter of fact, I learned somewhere—at college,I imagine—that practically pure water may be isolated from wine." Hearose painfully and stretched himself. "I think I'll get a littlemuch-needed rest. Do the same, Browne—and have a rub down. By Jove,will you listen to the row my clients are making out there in the woods!They seem to be annoyed over something."

Outside the walls the islanders were shouting and calling to each other;rifles were cracking, far and near, voicing, in their peculiarlyspiteful way, the rage that reigned supreme.

As Chase ascended the steps Bobby Browne and his wife came up besidehim.

"Chase," said Browne, in a low voice, his face turned away to hide themortification that filled his soul, "you are a man! I want you to knowthat I thank you from the bottom of my heart."

"Never mind, old man! Say no more," interrupted Chase, suddenlyembarrassed.

"I've been a fool, Chase. I don't deserve the friendship of any one—noteven that of my wife. It's all over, though. You understand? I'm not acoward. I'll do anything you say—take any risk—to pay for the troubleI've caused you all. Send me out to fight----"

"Nonsense! Your wife needs you, Browne. Don't you, Mrs. Browne? There,now! It will be all right, just as I said. I daresay, Browne, that Iwouldn't have been above the folly that got the better of you. Only—"he hesitated for a minute—"only, it couldn't have happened to me if Ihad a wife as dear and as good and as pretty as the one you have."

Browne was silent for a long time, his arm still about Drusilla'sshoulder. At the end of the long hall he said with decision in hisvoice:

"Chase, you may tell your clients that so far as I am concerned they mayhave the beastly island and everything that goes with it. I'm throughwith it all. I shall discharge Britt and----"

"My dear boy, it's most magnanimous of you," cried Chase merrily. "ButI'm afraid you can't decide the question in such an off-hand, dégagémanner. Sleep over it. I've come to the conclusion that it isn't so muchof a puzzle as to how you are to get the island as how to get off ofit. Take good care of him, Mrs. Browne. Don't let him talk."

She held out her hand to him impulsively. There was an unfathomable,unreadable look in her dark eyes. As he gallantly lifted the coldfingers to his lips, she said, without taking her almost hungry gazefrom his face:

"Thank you, Mr. Chase. I shall never forget you."

He stood there looking after them as they went up the stairway, apuzzled expression in his face. After a moment he shook his head andsmiled vaguely as he said to himself:

"I guess he'll be a good boy from now on." But he wondered what it wasthat he had seen or felt in her sombre gaze.

In fifteen minutes he was sound asleep in his room, his long framerelaxed, his hands wide open in utter fatigue. He dreamed of a Hennergirl with Genevra's brilliant face instead of the vague, greenishfeatures that haunt the vision with their subtle mysticism.

He was awakened at noon by Selim, who obeyed his instructions to theminute. The eager Arab rubbed the soreness and stiffness out of hismaster's body with copious applications of alcohol.

"I'm sorry you awoke me, Selim," said the master enigmatically. Selimdrew back, dismayed. "You drove her away." Selim's eyes blinked withbewilderment. "I'm afraid she'll never come back."

"Excellency!" trembled on the lips of the mystified servant.

"Ah, me!" sighed the master resignedly. "She smiled so divinely. Hennergirls never smile, do they, Selim? Have you noticed that they are alwayspensive? Perhaps you haven't. It doesn't matter. But this one smiled. Isay," coming back to earth, "have they begun to distil the water? I'vegot a frightful thirst."

"Yes, excellency. The Sahib Browne is at work. One of the servantsbecame sick to-day. Now no one is drinking the water. Baillo is bringingin ice from the storehouses and melting it, but the supply is not large.Sahib Browne will not let them make any more ice at present." Nothingmore was said until Chase was ready for his rolls and coffee. Then Selimasked hesitatingly, "Excellency, what is a bounder? Mr. Browne says----"

"I believe I did call him a bounder," interrupted Chase reminiscently."I spoke hastily and I'll give him a chance to demand an explanation.He'll want it, because he's an American. A bounder, Selim? Well,"closing one eye and looking out of the window calculatingly, "a bounderis a fellow who keeps up an acquaintance with you by persistentlydunning you for money that you've owed to him for four or five years.Any one who annoys you is a bounder."

Selim turned this over in his mind for some time, but the puzzled airdid not lift from his face.

"Excellency, you will take Selim to live with you in Paris?" he saidafter a while wistfully. "I will be your slave."

"Paris? Who the dickens said anything about Paris?" demanded Chase,startled.

"Neenah says you will go there to live, sahib."

"Um—um," mused Chase; "what does she know about it?"

"Does not the most glorious Princess live in Paris?"

"Selim, you've been listening to gossip. It's a frightful habit to getinto. Put cotton in your ears. But if I were to take you, what wouldbecome of little Neenah?"

"Oh, Neenah?" said Selim easily. "If she would be a trouble to you,excellency, I can sell her to a man I know."

Chase looked blackly at the eager Arab, who quailed.

"You miserable dog!"

Selim gasped. "Excellency!"

"Don't you love her?"

"Yes, yes, sahib—yes! But if she would be a trouble to you—no!"protested the Arab anxiously. Chase laughed as he came to appreciate thesacrifice his servant would make for him.

"I'll take you with me, Selim, wherever I go—and if I go—but, my lad,we'll take Neenah along, too, to save trouble. She's not for sale, mygood Selim." The husband of Neenah radiated joy.

"Then she may yet be the slave of the most glorious Princess! Allah isgreat! The most glorious one has asked her if she will not come withher----"

"Selim," commanded the master ominously, "don't repeat the gossip youpick up when I'm not around."

CHAPTER XXXII

THE TWO WORLDS

Two days and nights crept slowly into the past, and now the white peopleof the château had come to the eve of their last day's stay on theisland of Japat: the probationary period would expire with the sun onthe following day, the anniversary of the death of Taswell Skaggs. Thesix months set aside by the testator as sufficient for all therequirements of Cupid were to come to an inglorious end at seven o'clockon March 29th. According to the will, if Agnes Ruthven and Robert Brownewere not married to each other before the close of that day all of theirrights in the estate were lost to them.

To-morrow would be the last day of residence required, but, alack! Wasit to be the last that they were to spend in the world-forsaken land? Asthey sat and stared gloomily at the spotless sea there was not a singleoptimist among them who felt that the end was near. Not a few wereconvincing themselves that their last days literally would be spent onthe island.

No later than that morning a steamer—a small Dutch freighter—had cometo a stop off the harbour. But it turned tail and fled within an hour.No one came ashore; the malevolent tug went out and turned back thelanding party which was ready to leave the ship's side. The watchers inthe château knew what it was that the tug's captain shouted through histrumpet at a safe distance from the steamer. Through their glasses theysaw the boat's crew scramble back to the deck of the freighter; theaction told the story plainer than words.

The black and yellow flags at the end of the company's pier lent colourto a grewsome story!

The hopeless look deepened in the eyes of the watchers. They saw thesteamer move out to sea and then scuttle away as if pursued by demons.

Hollingsworth Chase alone maintained a stubborn air of confidence andunconcern. He may not have felt as he looked, but something in hismanner, assumed or real, kept the fires of hope alight in the breasts ofall the others.

"Don't be downhearted, Bowles," he said to the moping British agent."You'll soon be managing the bank again and patronising the American barwith the same old regularity."

"My word, Mr. Chase," groaned Bowles, "how can you say a thing likethat? I daresay they've blown the bank to Jericho by this time. Besides,there won't be an American bar. And, moreover, I don't intend to stay aminute longer than I have to on the beastly island. This taste of theold high life has spoiled me for everything else. I'm going back toLondon and sit on the banks of the Serpentine until it goes dry. Stayhere? I should rather say not."

There had been several vicious assaults upon the gates by the infuriatedislanders during the day following the rescue of the heirs. Their rageand disappointment knew no bounds. For hours they acted like madmen;only the most determined resistance drove them back from the gates. Somepowerful influence suddenly exerted itself to restore them to a state ofcalmness. They abruptly gave up the fruitless, insensate attacks uponthe walls and withdrew to the town, apparently defeated. The cause wasobvious: Rasula had convinced them that Death already was lifting hishand to blot out the lives of those who opposed them.

Bobby Browne was accomplishing wonders in the laboratory. He seldom wasseen outside the distilling room; his assiduity was marked, if notcommented upon. Hour after hour he stood watch over the water that wentup in vapour and returned to the crystal liquid that was more preciousthan rubies and sapphires. He was redeeming himself, just as he wasredeeming the water from the poison that had made it useless. Heexperimented with lizards: the water as it came from the springs broughtquick death to the little reptiles. The fishes in the aquarium diedbefore it occurred to any one to remove them from the noxious water.

Drusilla kept close to his side during all of these operations. Sheseemed afraid or ashamed to join the others; she avoided Lady Deppinghamas completely as possible. Her effort to be friendly when they werethrown together was almost pitiable.

As for Lady Agnes, she seemed stricken by an unconquerable lassitude;the spirits that had controlled her voice, her look, her movements, weresadly missing. It was with a most transparent effort that she managed toinfuse life into her conversation. There were times when she stoodstaring out over the sea with unseeing eyes, and one knew that she wasnot thinking of the ocean. More than once Genevra had caught herwatching Deppingham with eyes that spoke volumes, though they were muteand wistful.

From time to time the sentinels brought to Lord Deppingham and Chasemissives that had been tossed over the walls by the emissaries ofRasula. They were written by the leader himself and in every instanceexpressed the deepest sympathy for the plague-ridden château. It wasevident that Rasula believed that the occupants were slowly but surelydying, and that it was but a question of a few days until the placewould become a charnel-house. With atavic cunning he sat upon theoutside and waited for the triumph of death.

"There's a paucity of real news in these gentle messages that annoysme," Chase said, after reading aloud the last of the epistles to thePrincess and the Deppinghams. "I rejoice in my heart that he isn't awareof the true state of affairs. He doesn't appreciate the real calamitythat confronts us. The Plague? Poison? Mere piffle. If he only knew thatI am now smoking my last—the last cigarette on the place!" There wassomething so inconceivably droll in the lamentation that his hearerslaughed despite their uneasiness.

"I believe you would die more certainly from lack of cigarettes thanfrom an over-abundance of poison," said Genevra. She was thinking of thestock she had hoarded up for him in her dressing-table drawer, underlock and key. It occurred to her that she could have no end ofhousewifely thrills if she doled them out to him in nigg*rdlyquantities, at stated times, instead of turning them over to him inprofligate abundance.

"I'm sure I don't know," he said, taking a short inhalation. "I've neverhad the poison habit."

"I say, Chase, can't you just see Rasula's face when he learns thatwe've been drinking the water all along and haven't passed away?" criedDeppingham, brightening considerably in contemplation of the enemy'sdisgust.

"And to think, Mr. Chase, we once called you 'the Enemy,'" said LadyAgnes in a low, dreamy voice. There was a far-away look in her eyes.

"I appear to have outlived my usefulness in that respect," he said. Hetossed the stub of his cigarette over the balcony rail. "Good-bye!" hesaid, with melancholy emphasis. Then he bent an inquiring look upon theface of the Princess.

"Yes," she said, as if he had asked the question aloud. "You shall havethree a day, that's all."

"You'll leave the entire fortune to me when you sail away, I trust," hesaid. The Deppinghams were puzzled.

"But you also will be sailing away," she argued.

"I? You forget that I have had no orders to return. Sir John expects meto stay. At least, so I've heard in a roundabout way."

"You don't mean to say, Chase, that you'll stay on this demmed Island ifthe chance comes to get away," demanded Lord Deppingham earnestly. Thetwo women were looking at him in amazement.

"Why not? I'm an ally, not a deserter."

"You are a madman!" cried Lady Agnes. "Stay here? They would kill you ina jiffy. Absurd!"

"Not after they've had another good long look at my warships. LadyDeppingham," he replied, with a most reassuring smile.

"Good Lord, Chase, you're not clinging to that corpse-candle straw, areyou?" cried his lordship, beginning to pace the floor. "Don't be a fool!We can't leave you here to the mercy of these brutes. What's more, wewon't!"

"My dear fellow," said Chase ruefully, "we are talking as though theship had already dropped anchor out there. The chances are that we willhave ample time to discuss the ethics of my rather anomalous positionbefore we say good-bye to each other. I think I'll take a stroll alongthe wall before turning in."

He arose and leisurely started to go indoors. The Princess called tohim, and he paused.

"Wait," she said, coming up to him. They walked down the hallwaytogether. "I will run upstairs and unlock the treasure chest. I do nottrust even my maid. You shall have two to-night—no more."

"You've really saved them for me?" he queried, a note of eagerness inhis voice. "All these days?"

"I have been your miser," she said lightly, and then ran lightly up thestairs.

He looked after her until she disappeared at the top with a quick, shyglance over her shoulder. Then he permitted his spirits to drop suddenlyfrom the altitude to which he had driven them. An expression of utterdejection came into his face; a haggard look replaced the buoyant smile.

"God, how I love her—how I love her!" he groaned, half aloud.

She was coming down the stairs now, eager, flushed, more abashed thanshe would have had him know. Without a word she placed the twocigarettes in his outstretched palm. Her eyes were shining.

In silence he clasped her hand and led her unresisting through thewindow and out upon the broad gallery. She was returning the fervidpressure of his fingers, warm and electric. They crossed slowly to therail. Two chairs stood close together. They sat down, side by side. Thepower of speech seemed to have left them altogether.

He laid the two cigarettes on the broad stone rail. She followed themovement with perturbed eyes, and then leaned forward and placed herelbows on the rail. With her chin in her hands, she looked out over thesombre park, her heart beating violently. After a long time she heardhim saying hoarsely:

"If the ship should come to-morrow, you would go out of my life? Youwould go away and leave me here—"

"No, no!" she cried, turning upon him suddenly. "You could not stayhere. You shall not!"

"But, dearest love, I am bound to stay—I cannot go And, God help me, Iwant to stay. If I could go into your world and take you unto myselfforever—if you will tell me now that some day you may forget your worldand come to live in mine—then, ah, then, it would be different! Butwithout you I have no choice of abiding place. Here, as well asanywhere."

She put her hands over her eyes.

"I cannot bear the thought of—of leaving you behind—of leaving youhere to die at the hands of those beasts down there. Hollingsworth, Iimplore you—come! If the opportunity comes—and it will, I know—youwill leave the island with the rest of us?"

"Not unless I am commanded to do so by the man who sent me here to servethese beasts, as you call them."

"They do not want you! They are your enemies!"

"Time will tell," he said sententiously. He leaned over and took herhand in his. "You do love me?"

"You know I do—yes, yes!" she cried from her heart, keeping her faceresolutely turned away from him. "I am sick with love for you. Whyshould I deny the thing that speaks so loudly for itself—my heart!Listen! Can you not hear it beating? It is hurting me—yes, it ishurting me!"

He trembled at this exhibition of released, unchecked passion, and yethe did not clasp her in his arms.

"Will you come into my world, Genevra?" he whispered. "All my life wouldbe spent in guarding the love you would give to me—all my life given tomaking you love me more and more until there will be no other world foryou to think of."

"I wish that I had not been born," she sobbed. "I cannot, dearest—Icannot change the laws of fate. I am fated—I am doomed to live foreverin the dreary world of my fathers. But how can I give you up? How can Igive up your love? How can I cast you out of my life?"

"You do not love Prince Karl?"

"How can you ask?" she cried fiercely. "Am I not loving you with all myheart and soul?"

"And you would leave me behind if the ship should come?" he persisted,with cruel insistence. "You will go back and marry that—him? Loving me,you will marry him?" Her head dropped upon her arm. He turned cold asdeath. "God help and God pity you, my love. I never knew before whatyour little world means to you. I give you up to it. I crawl back intothe one you look down upon with scorn. I shall not again ask you todescend to the world where love is."

Her hand lay limp in his. They stared bleakly out into the night and noword was spoken.

The minutes became an hour, and yet they sat there with set faces,bursting hearts, unseeing eyes.

Below them in the shadows, Bobby Browne was pacing the embankment, hiswife drawn close to his side. Three men, Britt, Saunders and Bowles,were smoking their pipes on the edge of the terrace. Their words came upto the two in the gallery.

"If I have to die to-morrow," Saunders, the bridegroom, was saying, withreal feeling in his voice, "I should say, with all my heart, that mylife has been less than a week long. The rest of it was nothing. I neverwas happy before—and happiness is everything."

CHAPTER XXXIII

THE SHIPS THAT PASS

The next morning was rainy. A quick, violent storm had rushed up fromthe sea during the night.

Chase, after a sleepless night, came down and, without waiting for hisbreakfast, hurried out upon the gallery overlooking the harbour. Genevrawas there before him, pale, wistful, heavy-eyed—standing in the shelterof a huge pilaster. The wind swept the thin, swishing raindrops acrossthe gallery on both sides of her position. He came up from behind. Shewas startled by the sound of his voice saying "good-morning."

"Hollingsworth," she said drearily, "do you believe he will cometo-day?"

"He?" he asked, puzzled.

"My uncle. The yacht was to call for me not later than to-day."

"I remember," he said slowly. "It may come, Genevra. The day is young."

She clasped his hand convulsively, a desperate revolt in her soul.

"I almost hope that it may not come for me!" she said, her voice shakingwith suppressed emotion.

"I am not so selfish as to wish that, dear one," he said, after a momentof inconceivable ecstasy in which his own longing gave the lie to thewords which followed.

"It will not come. I feel it in my heart. We shall die here together,Hollingsworth. Ah, in that way I may escape the other life. No, no! Whatam I saying? Of course I want to leave this dreadful island—thisdreadful, beautiful, hateful, happy island. Am I not too silly?" She wasspeaking rapidly, almost hysterically, a nervous, flickering smile onher face.

"Dear one," he said gently, "the yacht will come. If it should not cometo-day, my cruisers will forestall its mission. As sure as there is asea, those cruisers will come." She looked into his eyes intently, as ifafraid of something there. "Oh, I'm not mad!" he laughed. "You brought acruiser to me one day; I'll bring one to you in return. We'll be quits."

"Quits?" she murmured, hurt by the word.

"Forgive me," he said, humbled.

"Hollingsworth," she said, after a long, tense scrutiny of the sea, "howlong will you remain on this island?"

"Perhaps until I die—if death should come soon. If not, then God knowshow long."

"Listen to me," she said intensely. "For my sake, you will not staylong. You will come away before they kill you. You will! Promise me. Youwill come—to Paris? Some day, dear heart? Promise!"

He stared at her beseeching face in wide-eyed amazement. A wave oftriumphant joy shot through him an instant later. To Paris! She wasasking him—but then he understood! Despair was the inspiration of thathungry cry. She did not mean—no, no!

"To Paris?" he said, shaking his head sadly. "No, dearest one. Not now.Listen: I have in my bag upstairs an offer from a great Americancorporation. I am asked to assume the management of its entire businessin France. My headquarters would be in Paris. My duties would begin assoon as my contract with Sir John Brodney expires. The position is alucrative one; it presents unlimited opportunities. I am a comparativelypoor man. The letter was forwarded to me by Sir John. I have a year inwhich to decide."

"And you—you will decline?" she asked.

"Yes. I shall go back to America, where there are no princesses of theroyal blood. Paris is no place for the disappointed, cast-off lover. Ican't go there. I love you too madly. I'd go on loving you, andyou—good as you are, would go on loving me. There is no telling whatwould come of it. It will be hard for me to—to stay away fromParis—desperately hard. Sometimes I feel that I will not be strongenough to do it, Genevra."

"But Paris is huge, Hollingsworth," she argued, insistently, an eager,impelling light in her eyes. "We would be as far apart as if the oceanwere between us."

"Ah, but would we?" he demanded.

"It is almost unheard-of for an American to gain entrée to our—to theset in which—well, you understand," she said, blushing painfully in theconsciousness that she was touching his pride. He smiled sadly.

"My dear, you will do me the honour to remember that I am not trying toget into your set. I am trying to induce you to come into mine. Youwon't be tempted, so that's the end of it. Beastly day, isn't it?" Heuttered the trite commonplace as if no other thought than that of theweather had been in his mind. "By the way," he resumed, with a mostgenial smile, "for some queer, un-masculine reason, I took it into myhead last night to worry about the bride's trousseau. How are you goingto manage it if you are unable to leave the island until—well, sayJune?"

She returned his smile with one as sweetly detached as his had been,catching his spirit. "So good of you to worry," she said, a defiant redin her cheeks. "You forget that I have a postponed trousseau at home. Afew stitches here and there, an alteration or two, some smart summergowns and hats—Oh, it will be so simple. What is it? What do you see?"

He was looking eagerly, intently toward the long, low headland beyondthe town of Aratat.

"The smoke! See? Close in shore, too! By heaven, Genevra—there's asteamer off there. She's a small one or she wouldn't run in so close.It—it may be the yacht! Wait! We'll soon see. She'll pass the point ina few minutes."

Scarcely breathing in their agitation, they kept the glasses levelledsteadily, impatiently upon the distant point of land. The smoke grewthicker and nearer. Already the citizens of the town were rushing to thepier. Even before the vessel turned the point, the watchers at thechâteau witnessed a most amazing performance on the dock. Half a hundrednatives dropped down as if stricken, scattering themselves along thenarrow pier. For many minutes Chase was puzzled, bewildered by thisstrange demonstration. Then, the explanation came to him like a flash.

The people were simulating death! They were posing as the victims of theplague that infested the land! Chase shuddered at this exhibition ofdiabolical cunning. Some of them were writhing as if in the death agony.It was at once apparent that the effect of this manifestation wouldserve to drive away all visitors, appalled and terrified. As he wasexplaining the ruse to his mystified companion, the nose of the vesselcame out from behind the tree-covered point.

An instant later, they were sending wild cries of joy through thechâteau, and people were rushing toward them from all quarters.

The trim white thing that glided across the harbour, graceful as a bird,was the Marquess's yacht!

It is needless to describe the joyous gale that swept the château into amaelstrom of emotions. Every one was shouting and talking and laughingat once; every one was calling out excitedly that no means should bespared in the effort to let the yacht know and appreciate the realsituation.

"Can the yacht take all of us away?" was the anxious cry that went roundand round.

They saw the tug put out to meet the small boat; they witnessed the sameold manoeuvres; they sustained a chill of surprise and despair when thebright, white and blue boat from the yacht came to a stop at the commandfrom the tug.

There was an hour of parleying. The beleaguered ones signalled withdespairing energy; the flag, limp in the damp air above the château,shot up and down in pitiful eagerness.

But the small boat edged away from close proximity to the tug and thenear-by dock. They spoke each other at long and ever-widening range. Atlast, the yacht's boat turned and fled toward the trim white hull.

Almost before the startled, dazed people on the balcony could grasp thefull and horrible truth, the yacht had lifted anchor and was slowlyheaded out to sea.

It was unbelievable!

With stupefied, incredulous eyes, they saw the vessel get quickly underway. She steamed from the pest-ridden harbour with scarcely so much as aglance behind. Then they shouted and screamed after her, almost maddenedby this final, convincing proof of the consummate deviltry against whichthey were destined to struggle.

Chase looked grimly about him, into the questioning, stricken faces ofhis companions. He drew his hand across his moist forehead.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said seriously and without the faintestintent to jest, "we are supposed to be dead!"

There was a single shriek from the bride of Thomas Saunders; no soundleft the dry lips of the other watchers, who stood as if petrified andkept their eyes glued upon the disappearing yacht.

"They have left me here to die!" came from the stiffened lips of thePrincess Genevra. "They have deserted me. God in heaven!"

"Look!" cried Chase, pointing to the dock. Half a dozen glasses wereturned in that direction.

The dying and the dead were leaping about in the wildest exhibition ofgleeful triumph!

The yacht slipped into the unreachable horizon, the feathery cloud fromits stack lying over against the leaden sky, shaped like a finger thatpointed mockingly the way to safety.

White-faced and despairing, the watchers turned away and draggedthemselves into the splendid halls of the building they had now come toregard as their tomb. Their voices were hushed and tremulous; they werelooking at the handwriting on the wall. They had not noticed it therebefore.

Saunders was bravely saying to his distracted wife, as he led her downthe marble hall:

"Don't give up the ship, dear. My word for it, we'll live to see thatgarden out Hammersmith way. My word for it, dear."

"He's trying so hard to be brave," said Genevra, oppressed by theknowledge that it was her ship that had played them false. "And Agnes?Look, Hollingsworth! She is herself again. Ah, these British women comeup under the lash, don't they?"

Lady Deppingham had thrown off her hopeless, despondent air; she wascrying out words of cheer and encouragement to those about her. Her eyeswere flashing, her head was erect and her voice was rich withinspiration.

"And you?" asked Chase, after a moment. "What of you? Your ship has comeand gone and you are still here—with me. You almost wished for this."

"No. I almost wished that it would not come. There is a distinction,"she said bitterly. "It has come and it has disappointed all of us—notone alone."

"Do you remember what it was that Saunders said about having lived onlya week, all told? The rest was nothing."

"Yes—but you have seen that Saunders still covets life in a garden atHammersmith Bridge. I am no less human than Mr. Saunders."

All day long the islanders rejoiced. Their shouts could be plainly heardby the besieged; their rifles cracked sarcastic greetings from theforest; bullets whistled gay accompaniments to the ceaseless song:"Allah is great! Allah is good!"

No man in the despised house of Taswell Skaggs slept that night. Theguard was doubled at all points open to attack. It was well that theprecaution was taken, for the islanders, believing that the enemy'sforce had been largely reduced by the polluted water, made a viciousassault on the lower gates. There was a fierce exchange of shots and theattackers drew away, amazed, stunned by the discovery that thebeleaguered band was as strong and as determined as ever.

At two in the morning, Deppingham, Browne and Chase came up from thewalls for coffee and an hour's rest.

"Chase, if you don't get your blooming cruiser here before long, we'llbe as little worth the saving as old man Skaggs, up there in hisopen-work grave," Deppingham was saying as he threw himself wearily intoa chair in the breakfast room. They were wet and cold. They had heardRasula's minions shouting derisively all night long: "Where is thewarship? Where is the warship?"

"It will come. I am positive," said Chase, insistent in spite of hisdejection. They drank their coffee in silence. He knew that theothers—including the native who served them—were regarding him withthe pity that one extends to the vain-glorious braggart who goes downwith flying colours.

He went out upon the west gallery and paced its windswept length forhalf an hour or more. Then, utterly fa*gged, he threw himself into anunexposed chair and stared through tired eyes into the inscrutable nightthat hid the sea from view. The faithless, moaning, jeering sea!

When he aroused himself with a start, the grey, drizzly dawn was uponhim. He had slept. His limbs were stiff and sore; his face was drenchedby the fine rain that had searched him out with prankish glee.

The next instant he was on his feet, clutching the stone balustrade witha grip of iron, his eyes starting from his head. A shout arose to hislips, but he lacked the power to give it voice. For many minutes hestood there, rooted to the spot, a song of thanksgiving surging in hisheart.

He looked about him at last. He was alone in the gallery. A quaint smilegrew in his face; his eyes were bright and full of triumph. After a fullminute of preparation, he made his way toward the breakfast room,outwardly as calm as a May morning.

Browne and Deppingham were asleep in the chairs. He shook themvigorously. As they awoke and stared uncomprehendingly at the disturberof their dreams, he said, in the coolest, most matter-of-fact way:

"There's an American cruiser outside the harbour. Get up!"

CHAPTER XXXIV

IN THE SAME GRAVE WITH SKAGGS

Down in the village of Aratat there were signs of a vast commotion.Early risers and the guards were flying from house to house, shoutingthe news. The citizens piled from their couches and raced pell-mell intothe streets, unbelieving, demoralised. With one accord they rushed tothe water front—men, women and children. Consternation was succeeded byutter panic. Rasula's wild shouts went unheeded. He screamed and foughtto secure order among his people, but his efforts were as nought againstthe storm of terror that confronted him.

Outside the harbour lay the low, savage-looking ship. Its guns werepointed directly at the helpless town; its decks were swarming withwhite-clothed men; it was alive and it glowered with rage in its evileyes.

The plague was forgotten! The strategy that had driven off the ships ofpeace was lost in the face of this ugly creature of war. No mangrovelled on the dock with the convulsions of death; no man hearkened tothe bitter, impotent words of the single wise man among them. Rasula'sreign of strategy was ended.

Howling like a madman, he tried to drive the company's tug out to meetthe sailors and urge them to keep away from the pest-ridden island. Itwas like pleading with a mountain avalanche.

"They will not fire! They dare not!" he was shrieking, as he dashed backand forth along the dock. "It is chance! They do not come for Chase!Believe in me! The tug! The tug! They must not land!" But others wereraging even more wildly than he, and they were calling upon Allah forhelp, for mercy; they were shrieking maledictions upon themselves andscreaming praises to the sinister thing of death that glowered upon themfrom its spaceless lair.

The crash of the long-unused six-pounder at the château, followed almostimmediately by a great roar from one of the cruiser's guns, brought thepanic to a crisis.

The islanders scattered like chaff before the wind, looking wild-eyedover their shoulders in dread of the pursuing cannon-ball, dodging inand out among the houses and off into the foothills.

Rasula, undaunted but crazed with disappointment, stuck to his colourson the deserted dock. He cursed and raved and begged. In time, two orthree of the more canny, realising that safety lay in an early peaceoffering, ventured out beside him. Others followed their example andstill others slunk trembling to the fore, their voices ready to protestinnocence and friendship and loyalty.

They had heard of the merciless American gunner and they knew, in theirsouls, that he could shoot the island into atoms before nightfall.

The native lawyer harangued them and cursed them and at last broughtthem to understand, in a feeble way, that no harm could come to them ifthey faced the situation boldly. The Americans would not land on Britishsoil; it would precipitate war with England. They would not dare toattempt a bombardment: Chase was a liar, a mountebank, a dog! Aftershouting himself hoarse in his frenzy of despair, he finally succeededin forcing the men to get up steam in the company's tug. All this time,the officers of the American warship were dividing their attentionbetween land and sea. Another vessel was coming up out of the mistyhorizon. The men on board knew it to be a British man-of-war! At laststeam was up in the tug. A hundred or more of the islanders had venturedfrom their hiding places and were again huddled upon the dock.

Suddenly the throng separated as if by magic, opening a narrow path downwhich three white men approached the startled Rasula. A hundred eagerhands were extended, a hundred voices cried out for mercy, a hundredMohammedans beat their heads in abject submission.

Hollingsworth Chase, Lord Deppingham and a familiar figure in anill-fitting red jacket and forage cap strode firmly, defiantly betweenthe rows of humble Japatites. Close behind them came a tall, resolutegrenadier of the Rapp-Thorberg army.

"Make way there, make way!" Mr. Bowles was crying, brandishing theantique broadsword that had come down to Wyckholme from the dark ages."Stand aside for the British Government! Make way for the American!"

Rasula's jaw hung limp in the face of this amazing exhibition of courageon the part of the enemy. He could not at first believe his eyes.Hoarse, inarticulate cries came from his froth-covered lips. He wasglaring insanely at the calm, triumphant face of the man from Brodney's,who was now advancing upon him with the assurance of a conqueror.

"You see, Rasula, I have called for the cruiser and it has come at mybidding." Turning to the crowd that surged up from behind, cowed andcringing, Chase said: "It rests with you. If I give the word, that shipwill blow you from the face of the earth. I am your friend, people. Iwould you no harm, but good. You have been misled by Rasula. Rasula, youare not a fool. You can save yourself, even now. I am here as theservant of these people, not as their master. I intend to remain hereuntil I am called back by the man who sent me to you. You have----"

Rasula uttered a shriek of rage. He had been crouching back among hiscohorts, panting with fury. Now he sprang forward, murder in his eyes.His arm was raised and a great pistol was levelled at the breast of theman who faced him so coolly, so confidently. Deppingham shouted and tooka step forward to divert the aim of the frenzied lawyer.

A revolver cracked behind the tall American and Rasula stopped in histracks. There was a great hole in his forehead; his eyes were bursting;he staggered backward, his knees gave way; and, as the blood filled thehole and streamed down his face, he sank to the ground—dead!

The soldier from Rapp-Thorberg, a smoking pistol in his hand, the otherraised to his helmet, stepped to the side of Hollingsworth Chase.

"By order of Her Serene Highness, sir," he said quietly.

"Good God!" gasped Chase, passing his hand across his brow. For a fullminute there was no sound to be heard on the pier except the lapping ofthe waves. Deppingham, repressing a shudder, addressed the stunnednatives.

"Take the body away. May that be the end of all assassins!"

The King's Own came alongside the American vessel in less than anhour. Accompanied by the British agent, Mr. Bowles, Chase and Deppinghamleft the dock in the company's tug and steamed out toward the twomonsters. The American had made no move to send men ashore, nor had theBritish agent deemed it wise to ask aid of the Yankees in view of thefact that a vessel of his own nation was approaching.

Standing on the forward deck of the swift little tug, Chaseunconcernedly accounted for the timely arrival of the two cruisers.

"Three weeks ago I sent out letters by the mail steamer, to be deliveredto the English or American commanders, wherever they might be found.Undoubtedly they were met with in the same port. That is why I was sopositive that help would come, sooner or later. It was very simple. LordDeppingham, merely a case of foresightedness. I knew that we'd need helpand I knew that if I brought the cruisers my power over these peoplewould never be disturbed again."

"My word!" exclaimed the admiring Bowles.

"Chase, you may be theatric, but you are the most dependable chap theworld has ever known," said Deppingham, and he meant it.

The warships remained off the harbour all that day. Officers from bothships were landed and escorted to the château, where joy reignedsupreme, notwithstanding the fact that the grandchildren of the old menof the island were morally certain that their cause was lost. TheBritish captain undertook to straighten out matters on the island. Heconsented to leave a small detachment of marines in the town to protectChase and the bank, and he promised the head men of the village, whom hehad brought aboard the ship, that no mercy would be shown if he or theAmerican captain was compelled to make a second visit in response to acall for aid. To a man the islanders pledged fealty to the cause ofpeace and justice: they shouted the names of Chase and Allah in the samebreath, and demanded of the latter that He preserve the former's beardfor all eternity.

The King's Own was to convey the liberated heirs, their goods andchattels, their servants and their penates (if any were left inviolate)to Aden, whither the cruiser was bound. At that port a P. & O. steamerwould pick them up. One white man elected to stay on the island withHollingsworth Chase, who steadfastly refused to desert his post untilSir John Brodney indicated that his mission was completed. That one manwas the wearer of the red jacket, the bearer of the King's commission inJapat, the undaunted Mr. Bowles, won over from his desire to sit oncemore on the banks of the Serpentine and to dine forever in the OldCheshire Cheese.

The Princess Genevra, the wistful light deepening hourly in herblue-grey eyes, avoided being alone with the man whom she was leavingbehind. She had made up her mind to accept the fate inevitable; he hadreconciled himself to the ending of an impossible dream. There wasnothing more to say, except farewell. She may have bled in her soul forhim and for the happiness that was dying as the minutes crept on to thehour of parting, but she carefully, deliberately concealed the woundsfrom all those who stood by and questioned with their eyes.

She was a princess of Rapp-Thorberg!

The last day dawned. The sun smiled down upon them. The soft breeze ofthe sea whispered the curse of destiny into their ears; it crooned thesong of heritage; it called her back to the fastnesses where love maynot venture in.

The château was in a state of upheaval; the exodus was beginning.Servants and luggage had departed on their way to the dock. Palanquinswere waiting to carry the lords and ladies of the castle down to thesea. The Princess waited until the last moment. She went to him. He wasstanding apart from the rest, coldly indifferent to the pangs he wassuffering.

"I shall love you always," she said simply, giving him her hand."Always, Hollingsworth." Her eyes were wide and hopeless, her lips werewhite.

He bowed his head. "May God give you all the happiness that I wish foryou," he said. "The End!"

She looked steadily into his eyes for a long time, searching his soulfor the hope that never dies. Then she gently withdrew her hands andstood away from him, humbled in her own soul.

"Yes," she whispered. "Good-bye."

He straightened his shoulders and drew a deep breath through compressednostrils. "Good-bye! God bless you," was all that he said.

She left him standing there; the wall between them was too high, tooimpregnable for even Love to storm.

Lady Deppingham came to him there a moment later. "I am sorry," she saidtenderly. "Is there no hope?"

"There is no hope—for her!" he said bitterly. "She was condemned toolong ago."

On the pier they said good-bye to him. He was laughing as gaily and asblithely as if the world held no sorrows in all its mighty grasp.

"I'll look you up in London," he said to the Deppinghams. "Remember, thereal trial is yet to come. Good-bye, Browne. Good-bye, all! You maycome again another day!"

The launch slipped away from the pier. He and Bowles stood there, sideby side, pale-faced but smiling, waving their handkerchiefs. He feltthat Genevra was still looking into his eyes, even when the launch creptup under the walls of the distant ship.

Slowly the great vessel got under way. The American cruiser was alreadylow on the horizon. There was a single shot from the King's Own: areverberating farewell!

Hollingsworth Chase turned away at last. There were tears in his eyesand there were tears in those of Mr. Bowles.

"Bowles," said he, "it's a rotten shame they didn't think to saygood-bye to old man Skaggs. He's in the same grave with us."

CHAPTER XXXV

A TOAST TO THE PAST

The middle of June found the Deppinghams leaving London once more, butthis time not on a voyage into the mysterious South Seas. They no longerwere interested in the island of Japat, except as a reminiscence, norwere they concerned in the vagaries of Taswell Skaggs's will.

The estate was settled—closed!

Mr. Saunders was mentioned nowadays only in narrative form, and butrarely in that way. True, they had promised to visit the little place inHammersmith if they happened to be passing by, and they had graciouslyadmitted that it would give them much pleasure to meet his good mother.

Two months have passed since the Deppinghams departed from Japat, "forgood and all." Many events have come to pass since that memorable day,not the least of which was the exchanging of £500,000 sterling, lessattorneys' and executors' fees. To be perfectly explicit and as brief aspossible, Lady Deppingham and Robert Browne divided that amount of moneyand passed into legal history as the "late claimants to the Estate ofTaswell Skaggs."

It was Sir John Brodney's enterprise. He saw the way out of thedifficulty and he acted as pathfinder to the other and less perceivingcounsellors, all of whom had looked forward to an endless controversy.

The business of the Japat Company and all that it entailed wastransferred by agreement to a syndicate of Jews!

Never before was there such a stupendous deal in futures.

Soon after the arrival in England of the two claimants, it became knownthat the syndicate was casting longing eyes upon the far-away garden ofrubies and sapphires. There was no hope of escape from a long, bittercontest in the courts. Sir John perhaps saw that there was a possiblechance to break the will of the testator; he was an old man and he wouldhardly live long enough to fight the case to the end. In theinterregnum, his clients, the industrious islanders, would be slavingthemselves into a hale old age and a subsequently unhallowed grave, nonethe wiser and none the richer than when the contest began, except forthe proportionately insignificant share that was theirs by right oforiginal possession. Sir John took it upon himself to settle the matterwhile his clients were still in a condition to appreciate the results.He proposed a compromise.

It was not so much a question of jurisprudence, he argued, as it was amatter of self-protection for all sides to the controversy—moreparticularly that side which assembled the inhabitants of Japat.

And so it came to pass that the Jews, after modifying some twenty orthirty propositions of their own, ultimately assumed the credit ofevolving the plan that had originated in the resourceful head of SirJohn Brodney, and affairs were soon brought to a close.

The grandchildren of the testators were ready to accept the bestsettlement that could be obtained. Theirs was a rather forlorn hope, tobegin with. When it was proposed that Agnes Deppingham and Robert Browneshould accept £250,000 apiece in lieu of all claims, moral or legal,against the estate, they leaped at the chance.

They had seen but little of each other since landing in England, exceptas they were thrown together at the conferences. There was no pretenceof intimacy on either side; the shadow of the past was still there toremind them that a skeleton lurked behind and grinned spitefully in itsobscurity. Lady Agnes went in for every diversion imaginable; for awonder, she dragged Deppingham with her on all occasions. It was a mostunexpected transformation; their friends were puzzled. The rumour wentabout town that she was in love with her husband.

As for Bobby Browne, he was devotion itself to Drusilla. They sailed forNew York within three days after the settlement was effected, ignoringthe enticements of a London season—which could not have mattered muchto them, however, as Drusilla emphatically refused to wear the sort ofgowns that Englishwomen wear when they sit in the stalls. Besides, shepreferred the Boston dressmakers. The Brownes were rich. He could nowbecome a fashionable specialist. They were worth nearly a million and aquarter in American dollars. Moreover, they, as well as the Deppinghams,were the possessors of rubies and sapphires that had been thrust uponthem by supplicating adversaries in the hour of departure—gems thatmight have bought a dozen wives in the capitals of Persia; perhaps ascore in the mountains where the Kurds are cheaper. The Brownesnaturally were eager to get back to Boston. They now had nothing incommon with Taswell Skaggs; Skaggs is not a pretty name.

Mr. Britt afterward spent three weeks of incessant travel on thecontinent and an additional seven days at sea. In Baden-Baden hehappened upon Lord and Lady Deppingham. It will be recalled that inJapat they had always professed an unholy aversion for Mr. Britt. Is itcause for wonder then that they declined his invitation to dine inBaden-Baden? He even proposed to invite their entire party, whichincluded a few dukes and duch*esses who were leisurely on their way toattend the long-talked-of nuptials in Thorberg at the end of June.

The Syndicate, after buying off the hereditary forces, assumed a halfinterest in the Japat Company's business; the islanders controlled theremaining half. The mines were to be operated under the management ofthe Jews and eight hours were to constitute a day's work. The personalestate passed into the hands of the islanders, from whom Skaggs hadappropriated it in conjunction with John Wyckholme. All in all, itseemed a fair settlement of the difficulty. The Jews paid something like£2,000,000 sterling to the islanders in consideration of a twenty years'grant. Their experts had examined the property before the death of Mr.Skaggs; they were not investing blindly in the great undertaking.

Mr. Levistein, the president of the combine, after a long talk with LordDeppingham, expressed the belief that the château could be turned into amoney-making hotel if properly advertised—outside of the island.Deppingham admitted, that if he kept the prices up, there was no reasonin the world why the better class of Jews should not flock there for thewinter.

Before the end of June, representatives of the combine, attended byofficers of the court, a small army of clerks, a half dozen lawyers andtwo capable men from the office of Sir John Brodney, set sail for Japat,provided with the power and the means to effect the transfer agreed uponin the compromise.

In Vienna the Deppinghams were joined by the duch*ess of N------, theMarchioness of B------ and other fashionables. In a week all of themwould be in the Castle at Thorberg, for the ceremony that now occupiedthe attention of social and royal Europe.

"And to think," said the duch*ess, "she might have died happily on thatmiserable island. I am sure we did all we could to bring it about bysteaming away from the place with the plague chasing after us. Dear me,how diabolically those wretches lied to the Marquess. They said thatevery one in the château was dead, Lady Deppingham—and buried, if I amnot mistaken."

The party was dining with one of the Prince Lichtensteins in the HotelBristol after a drive in the Haupt-Allee.

"My dog, I think, was the only one of us who died, duch*ess," said LadyAgnes airily. "And he was buried. They were that near to the truth."

"It would be much better for poor Genevra if she were to be buriedinstead of married next week," lamented the duch*ess.

"My dear, how ridiculous. She isn't dead yet, by any manner of means.Why bury her? She's got plenty of life left in her, as Karl Brabetz willlearn before long." Thus spoke the far-sighted Marchioness, aunt of thebride-to-be. "It's terribly gruesome to speak of burying people beforethey are actually dead."

"Other women have married princes and got on very well," said PrinceLichtenstein.

"Oh, come now, Prince," put in Lord Deppingham, "you know the sort ofchap Brabetz is. There are princes and princes, by Jove."

"He's positively vile!" exclaimed the duch*ess, who would not mincewords.

"She's entering upon a hell of a—I mean a life of hell," exploded theDuke, banging the table with his fist. "That fellow Brabetz is therottenest thing in Europe. He's gone from bad to worse so swiftly thatpublic opinion is still months behind him."

"Nice way to talk of the groom," said the host genially. "I quite agreewith you, however. I cannot understand the Grand Duke permitting it togo on—unless, of course, it's too late to interfere."

"Poor dear, she'll never know what it is to be loved and cherished,"said the Marchioness dolefully.

Lord and Lady Deppingham glanced at each other. They were thinking ofthe man who stood on the dock at Aratat when the King's Own sailedaway.

"The Grand Duke is probably saying the very thing to himself thatBrabetz's associates are saying in public," ventured a young Austriancount.

"What is that, pray?"

"That the Prince won't live more than six months. He's a physical wreckto-day—and a nervous one, too. Take my word for it, he will be acreeping, imbecile thing inside of half a year. Locomotor ataxia and allthat. It's coming, positively, with a sharp crash."

"I've heard he has tried to kill that woman in Paris half a dozentimes," remarked one of the women, taking it as a matter of course thatevery one knew who she meant by "that woman." As no one even so much aslooked askance, it is to be presumed that every one knew.

"She was really responsible for the postponement of the wedding inDecember, I'm told. Of course, I don't know that it is true," said theMarchioness, wisely qualifying her gossip. "My brother, the Grand Duke,does not confide in me."

"Oh, I think that story was an exaggeration," said her husband. "Genevrasays that he was very ill—nervous something or other."

"Probably true, too. He's a wreck. She will be the prettiest widow inEurope before Christmas," said the young count. "Unless, of course, anyone of the excellent husbands surrounding me should die," he addedgallantly.

"Well, my heart bleeds for her," said Deppingham.

"She's going into it with her eyes open," said the Prince. "It isn't asif she hadn't been told. She could see for herself. She knows there'sthe other woman in Paris and—Oh, well, why should we make a funeral ofit? Let's do our best to be revellers, not mourners. She'll live to fallin love with some other man. They always do. Every woman has to love atleast once in her life—if she lives long enough. Come, come! Is myentertainment to develop into a premature wake? Let us forget the futureof the Princess Genevra and drink to her present!"

"And to her past, if you don't mind, Prince!" amended Lord Deppingham,looking into his wife's sombre eyes.

CHAPTER XXXVI

THE TITLE CLEAR

Two men and a woman stood in the evening glow, looking out over thetranquil sea that crept up and licked the foot of the cliff. At theirback rose the thick, tropical forest; at its edge and on the nape of thecliff stood a bungalow, fresh from the hands of a hundred willingtoilsmen. Below, on their right, lay the gaudy village, lolling in theheat of the summer's day. Far off to the north, across the lowlands andbeyond the sweep of undulating and ever-lengthening hills, could be seena great, reddish structure, its gables and towers fusing with the sombreshades of the mountain against which they seemed to lean.

It was September. Five months had passed since the King's Own steamedaway from the harbour of Aratat. The new dispensation was in fulleffect. During the long, sickening weeks that preceded the coming of theSyndicate, Hollingsworth Chase toiled faithfully, resolutely for therestoration of order and system among the demoralised people of Japat.

The first few weeks of rehabilitation were hard ones: the islanders wereready to accede to everything he proposed, but their submissiveness wasdue in no small measure to the respect they entertained for his almostsupernatural powers. In course of time this feeling was more or lessdissipated and a condition of true confidence took its place. Thelawless element—including the misguided husbands whose jealousy hadbeen so skilfully worked upon by Rasula and Jacob von Blitz—thiselement, greatly in the minority, subsided into a lackadaisical,law-abiding activity, with little prospect of again attempting toexercise themselves in another direction. Murder had gone out of theirhearts.

Eager hands set to work to construct a suitable home for the tallarbiter. He chose a position on the point that ran out into the seabeyond the town. It was this point which the yacht was rounding on thatmemorable day when he and one other had watched it from the gallery,stirred by emotions they were never to forget. Besides, the cliff onwhich the new bungalow stood represented the extreme western extremityof the island and therefore was nearest of all Japat to civilisationand—Genevra.

Conditions in Aratat were not much changed from what they had been priorto the event of the legatory invaders. The mines were in full operation;the bank was being conducted as of yore; the people were happy andconfident; the town was fattening on its own flesh; the sun was asmerciless and the moon as gentle as in the days of old.

The American bar changed hands with the arrival of the new forces fromthe Occident; the Jews and the English clerks, the surveyors and theengineers, the solicitors and the agents, were now domiciled in"headquarters." Chase turned over the "bar" when he retired from activeservice under Sir John Brodney. With the transfer of the company'sbusiness his work was finished. Two young men from Sir John's were nowsettled in Aratat as legal advisers to the islanders, Chase havingdeclined to serve longer in that capacity.

He was now waiting for the steamer which was to take him to Cape Town onhis way to England—and home.

The château was closed and in the hands of a small army of caretakers.The three widows of Jacob von Blitz were now married to separate anddistinct husbands, all of whom retained their places as heads ofdepartments at the château, proving that courtship had not been confinedto the white people during the closing days of the siege.

The head of the bank was Oscar Arnheimer, Mr. Bowles having been deposedbecause his methods were even more obsolete than his coat of armour.Selim disposed of his lawful interest in the corporation to Ben Ali, thenew Cadi, and was waiting to accompany his master to America. It may bewell to add that the deal did not include the transfer of Neenah. Shewas not for sale, said Selim to Ben Ali.

It was of Mr. Bowles that the three persons were talking as they stoodin the evening glow.

"Yes, Selim," said the tall man in flannels, "he's a sort of old dogTray—ever faithful but not the right kind. You don't happen to knowanything of old dog Tray, do you? No? I thought not. Nor you, Neenah?Well, he was----"

"Was he the one who was poisoned at the château, excellency?" askedNeenah timidly.

"No, my dear," he replied soberly. "If I remember my history, he died inthe seventeenth century or thereabouts. It's really of no consequence,however. Any good, faithful dog will serve my purpose. What I want toimpress upon you is this: it is most difficult for a faithful old dog tosurvive a change of masters. It isn't human nature—or dog nature,either. I'm glad that you are convinced, Neenah—but please don't tellSahib Bowles that he is a dog."

"Oh, no, excellency!" she cried earnestly.

"She is very close-mouthed, sahib," added Selim, with conviction.

"We'll take Bowles to England with us next week," went on Chasedreamily. "We'll leave Japat to take care of itself. I don't know whichit is in most danger of, seismic or Semitic disturbances."

He lighted a fresh cigarette, tenderly fingering it before applying thematch.

"I'll smoke one of hers to-night, Selim. See! I keep them apart from theothers, in this little gold case. I smoke them only when I am thinking.Now, run in and tell Mr. Bowles that I said he was a Tray. I want to bealone."

They left him and he threw himself upon the green sod, his back to atree, his face toward the distant château. Hours afterward the faithfulSelim came out to tell him that it was bedtime. He found his masterstill sitting there, looking across the moonlit flat in the direction ofa place in the hills where once he had dwelt in marble halls.

"Selim," he said, arising and laying his hand upon his servant'sshoulder, his voice unsteady with finality, "I have decided, after all,to go to Paris! We will live there, Selim. Do you understand?" withstrange fierceness, a great exultation mastering him. "We are to live inParis!"

To himself, all that night, he was saying: "I must see her again—Ishall see her!"

A thousand times he had read and re-read the letter that Lady Deppinghamhad written to him just before the ceremony in the cathedral atThorberg. He knew every word that it contained; he could read it in thedark. She had said that Genevra was going into a hell that no hereaftercould surpass in horrors! And that was ages ago, it seemed to him.Genevra had been a wife for nearly three months—the wife of a man sheloathed; she was calling in her heart for him to come to her; she wassuffering in that unspeakable hell. All this he had come to feel andshudder over in his unspeakable loneliness. He would go to her! Therecould be no wrong in loving her, in being near her, in standing by herin those hours of desperation.

A copy of a London newspaper, stuffed away in the recesses of his trunk,dated June 29th, had come to him by post. It contained the telegraphicdetails of the brilliant wedding in Thorberg. He had read the names ofthe guests over and over again with a bitterness that knew no bounds.Those very names proved to him that her world was not his, nor evercould be. Every royal family in Europe was represented; the list ofnoble names seemed endless to him—the flower of the world'saristocracy. How he hated them!

The next morning Selim aroused him from his fitful sleep, bringing thenews that a strange vessel had arrived off Aratat. Chase sprang out ofbed, possessed of the wild hope that the opportunity to leave the islandhad come sooner than he had expected. He rushed out upon his veranda,overlooking the little harbour.

A long, white, graceful craft was lying in the harbour. It was in soclose to the pier that he had no choice but to recognise it as a vesselof light draft. He stared long and intently at the trim craft.

"Can I be dreaming?" he muttered, passing his hand over his eyes. "Don'tlie to me, Selim! Is it really there?" Then he uttered a loud cry of joyand started off down the slope with the speed of a race horse, shoutingin the frenzy of an uncontrollable glee.

It was the Marquess of B----'s white and blue yacht!

Three weeks later, Hollingsworth Chase stepped from the deck of theyacht to the pier in Marseilles; the next day he was in Paris, attendedby the bewildered and almost useless Selim. An old and valued friend, acampaigner of the war-time days, met him at the Gare de Lyon in responseto a telegram.

"I'll tell you the whole story of Japat, Arch, but not until to-morrow,"Chase said to him as they drove toward the Ritz. "I arrived yesterday onthe Marquess of B----'s yacht—the Cricket. Do you know him? Of courseyou do. Everybody does. The Cricket was cruising down my way andpicked me up—Bowles and me. The captain came a bit out of his way tocall at Aratat, but he had orders of some sort from the Marquess, bycable, I fancy, to stop off for me."

He did not regard it as necessary to tell his correspondent friend thatthe Cricket had sailed from Marseilles with but one port inview—Aratat. He did not tell him that the Cricket had come with amessage to him and that he was answering it in person, as it wasintended that he should—a message written six weeks before his arrivalin France. There were many things that Chase did not explain toArchibald James.

"You're looking fine, Chase, old man. Did you a lot of good out there.You're as brown as that Arab in the taximetre back there. By Jove, oldman, that Persian girl is ripping. You say she's his wife? She's—"Chase broke in upon this far from original estimate of the picturesqueNeenah.

"I say, Arch, there's something I want to know before I go to theMarquess's this evening. I'm due there with my thanks. He lives in theBoulevard St. Germain—I've got the number all right. Is one likely tofind the house full of swells? I'm a bit of a savage just now and I'mcorrespondingly timid."

His friend stared at him for a moment.

"I can save you the trouble of going to the Marquess," he said. "He andthe Marchioness are in London at present. Left Paris a month ago."

"What? The house is closed?" in deep anxiety.

"I think not. Servants are all there, I daresay. Their place adjoins theBrabetz palace. The Princess is his niece, you know."

"You say the Brabetz palace is next door?" demanded Chase, steadying hisvoice with an effort.

"Yes—the old Flaurebert mansion. The Princess was to have been thesocial sensation of Paris this year. She's a wonderful beauty, youknow."

"Was to have been?"

"She married that rotten Brabetz last June—but, of course, you neverheard of it out there in what's-the-name-of-the-place. You may haveheard of his murder, however. His mistress shot him in Brussels----"

"Great God, man!" gasped Chase, clutching his arm in a grip of iron.

"The devil, Chase!" cried the other, amazed. "What's the matter?"

"He's dead? Murdered? How—when? Tell me about it," cried Chase, hisagitation so great that James looked at him in wonder.

"'Gad, you seem to be interested!"

"I am! Where is she—I mean the Princess? And the other woman?"

"Cool off, old man. People are staring at you. It's not a long story.Brabetz was shot three weeks ago at a hotel in Brussels. He'd beenliving there for two months, more or less, with the woman. In fact, heleft Paris almost immediately after he was married to the PrincessGenevra. The gossip is that she wouldn't live with him. She'd found outwhat sort of a dog he was. They didn't have a honeymoon and they didn'tattempt a bridal tour. Somehow, they kept the scandal out of the papers.Well, he hiked out of Paris at the end of a week, just before the 14th.The police had asked the woman to leave town. He followed. Dope fiend,they say. The bride went into seclusion at once. She's never to be seenanywhere. The woman shot him through the head and then took a fine doseof poison. They tried to save her life, but couldn't. It was a rippingnews story. The prominence of the----"

"This was a month ago?" demanded Chase, trying to fix something in hismind. "Then it was after the yacht left Marseilles with orders to pickme up at Aratat."

"What are you talking about? Sure it was, if the yacht left Marseillessix weeks ago. What's that got to do with it?"

"Nothing. Don't mind me, Arch. I'm a bit upset."

"There was talk of a divorce almost before the wedding bells ceasedringing. The Grand Duke got his eyes opened when it was too late. Herepented of the marriage. The Princess was obliged to live in Paris fora certain length of time before applying to the courts for freedom.'Gad, I'll stake my head she's happy these days!"

Chase was silent for a long time. He was quite cool and composed when atlast he turned to his friend.

"Arch, do me a great favour. Look out for Selim and Neenah. Take 'em tothe hotel and see that they get settled. I'll join you this evening.Don't ask questions, but put me down here. I'll take another cab.There's a good fellow. I'll explain soon. I'm—I'm going somewhere andI'm in a hurry."

The voiture drew up before the historic old palace in the BoulevardSt. Germain. Chase's heart was beating furiously as he stepped to thecurb. The cocher leaned forward for instructions. His fare hesitatedfor a moment, swayed by a momentary indecision.

"Attendre" he said finally. The driver adjusted his register andsettled back to wait. Then Chase mounted the steps and lifted theknocker with trembling fingers. He was dizzy with eagerness, cold withuncertainty.

She had asked him to come to her—but conditions were not the same aswhen she sent the compelling message. There had come into her life avital break, a change that altered everything. What was it to mean tohim?

He stood a moment later in the salon of the old Flaurebert palace,vaguely conscious that the room was darkened by the drawn blinds, andthat it was cool and sweet to his senses. He knew that she was comingdown the broad hallway—he could hear the rustle of her gown.Inconsequently he was wondering whether she would be dressed in black.Then, to his humiliation, he remembered that he was wearing uncouth,travel-soiled garments.

She was dressed in white—a house gown, simple and alluring. There wasno suggestion of the coronet, no shadow of grief in her manner as shecame swiftly toward him, her hands extended, a glad light in her eyes.

The tall man, voiceless with emotion, clasped her hands in his andlooked down into the smiling, rapturous face.

"You came!" she said, almost in a whisper.

"Yes. I could not have stayed away. I have just heard that you—you arefree. You must not expect me to offer condolences. It would be sheerhypocrisy. I am glad—God, I am glad! You sent for me—you sent theyacht, Genevra, before—before you were free. I came, knowing that youbelonged to another. I find you the same as when I knew you first—whenI held you in my arms and heard you say that you loved me. You do notgrieve—you do not mourn. You are the same—my Genevra—the same that Ihave dreamed of and suffered for all these months. Something tells methat you have descended to my plane. I will not kiss you, Genevra, untilyou have promised to become my wife."

She had not taken her eyes from his white, intense face during this longsumming-up.

"Hollingsworth, I cannot, I will not blame you for thinking ill of me,"she said. "Have I fallen in your eyes? I wanted you to be near me. Iwanted you to know that when the courts freed me from that man that Iwould be ready and happy to come to you as your wife. I am not inmourning to-day, you see. I knew you were coming. As God is my witness,I have no husband to mourn for. He was nothing to me. I want you for myhusband, dearest. It was what I meant when I sent out there foryou—that, and nothing else."