te inch. He was not caring about the light. His mind was filled to
the exclusion of all else with his plight and the predicament of his
schooner.

"Confound me for a fool!" he mused aloud, gritting his teeth savagely.
"Led by the nose by a saucy little chit who knows how to display her
charms as well as her pearls!"

He pondered over his situation with growing irritation; for he knew only
too well that his release could never be obtained by bribery; his keen
sense of values told him that neither in the yacht or at home could he
match the treasures he had already seen on the persons of Dolores, and
Pascherette, and the other women of the camp. Yet he tried to console
himself that after all these things might be displayed for his
impression; might in fact be the entire store of the pirate queen,
displayed for one gaudy, overpowering effect.

"That's it!" he cried, striking fist to palm. "Just a theatrical trick.
That little jade, Pascherette, will sell her dark little soul for
diamonds or pearls, I'll wager, and she shall sell me liberty. Then I'll
see the queen creature, gaining entry by the same medium, and we shall
see if cultivated wits are not a match for this wild beauty."

With something very like a smile of resignation Venner stretched himself
on the floor and composed himself to rest. He was quite certain that
Pascherette could be reached through his jailer, whoever that might
be--Milo or somebody else--and the entire plan seemed to him beautifully
simple and infallible. He dozed, awoke, dozed again, and the ruby light
seemed to intensify each time his eyes opened. Gradually the shaft of
light grew so strong that, focused on his closed eyes, it forced him to
full wakefulness; and now he stared hard at it, blinking, hypnotized by
the trembling radiance that seemed to shoot out from the main shaft
until a great moving circle of light appeared before him. And out from
the midst of the light stepped Dolores, bewitching, irresistible,
smiling down upon him with a tenderness that filled him with awe.

Amazed, dazzled, the man sat up, quivering with a sensation that rippled
at his hair-roots and sent the blood singing to finger and toe-tips. And
Dolores, with one forefinger at her scarlet lips to enjoin silence,
glided toward him with her inimitable grace, and knelt before him
shaking her head and starting him on the way to intoxication with the
touch of her wonderful hair.

"My friend, I grieve that thou art here