more shone in his single eye.

"Come, good Sancho," purred Dolores, running her soft hand down his bare
forearm. "Art frightened by petty noises, then? Plunge thy hands deep,
man! All thou canst grasp is thine for so long as thy eye can enjoy or
thy hands fondle."

Now Sancho's sordid soul surrendered. His greed conquered fear, and he
delved deep into a coffer, chattering the while with frenzy. And now
when the thunder rolled, his ears heard it not. He drew forth his hands,
and a glittering mass of wealth fell about his feet. He glared up at
Dolores, laughing ghoulishly.

"That is well, Sancho," Dolores said, and took his hand. "Now I will
show thee the rest; and I know thou'lt never tell of it. I trust thee.
Come. Put thy ear to this tapestry, and tell me what thou canst hear."

Sancho laid his ear to the cloth, and his eye gleamed brightly. Milo
stepped silently behind him.

"I hear Hanglip!" he gasped. "Is he, too, here?"

"He is outside the cliff. But whom else canst hear?"

"I hear Caliban--Spotted Dog--Stumpy--I hear a score as if they stood by
my side! And Pascherette! By the fiend! She has played Rufe a trick! And
me--" He sprang from the wall like a tiger, snatching at his weaponless
belt with slavering fury, to be gathered at once into the remorseless
hug of Milo. And he glared full into the mocking face of Dolores--soft
and generous no more, but the embodiment of awful vengeance.

For many seconds she stood regarding him contemptuously, until he
subsided helplessly in Milo's grasp; then, motioning the giant to
follow, she passed along and stopped before a life-size painting of "The
Sleeping Venus" in a massive, gilded frame. With one hand raised high at
the side, she turned a pulley-catch, and the great picture slowly fell
forward from the top until it rested slopingly on the floor, forming an
inclined entrance to a gloomy passage, dimly touched by a dark-red glow.

This was the secret outlet to the great chamber by which Milo had access
to the altar in the grove at such times as his aid was needed to
support Dolores in some exhibition of black magic. She stepped swiftly
along the passage, giving no further heed to the panic-stricken pirate
until Milo had carried and dragged him to where she awaited him. This
was still another dark excavation, running deeper yet into the bowels of
the cliff; and the devilish red glare was here intensified until
surrounding objects were vividly revealed.

"Now hear