ttering rippled through the crowd. Dolores resumed her solitary pacing
without another thought for the hardy rascal she had so swiftly and
effectively softened. Her eyes were ever bent toward the great rock; her
thoughts were centered on a vague, mysterious instinct which whispered
to her that with her first admission into that frowning cavern the
mantle of fierce old Red Jabez would fall upon her, and with it would
come power that a Czar might envy! A Czar's power, indeed, but with all
of a Czar's cares and more; for Czar never ruled over subjects like
these.

A sudden hush fell upon the place; the mutterings ceased as if tongues
were stricken stiff. Rufe, with his head now enwrapped in crossed
bandages, stared toward the great rock with a wavering expression in his
smoldering eyes, an expression that hovered between reluctant
submission, reawakened cupidity, and dawning hope. Dolores stood
motionless, imperious in every line and feature, her heavy eyelashes
veiling the eagerness in her eyes, her red lips curved in royal
indifference.

The great rock was turning.

Slowly, yet with the flawless regularity of a millwheel, the mass of
stone was rolled upward and to one side; it rested at last on a ledge,
balanced perfectly, ready to fall again at the touch of a finger; and in
the aperture appeared the human agent of its opening.

Milo, the giant Abyssinian, guardian of the rock, custodian of the Cave
of Terrible Things, bone of contention for the jealous and terror of the
strongest, filled the entrance with his colossal frame and looked out
with a calm dignity that made the whites cringe with hatred. Slowly,
with stately grace, the giant advanced until he stood before Dolores,
and in his coal-black eyes shone the light of limitless devotion. He
knelt, kissed the sequins on her tunic's hem, then, with both hands
pressed to his forehead, he bowed his face to the earth at her feet.

"Rise, Milo," said Dolores, gently, and her breath caught painfully as
she spoke. She knew what the slave came for; every man in that community
of pirates, wreckers, escaped slaves, and convicts knew as well as she.
All had awaited this moment, knowing when it came that the mystery of
the cave would be a mystery no longer to at least one of them: all knew
that the summons meant the passing of the old pirate who had brought
them together, ruled them with blood and iron, and forced from them a
homage none of them would render to his Maker.