small boats. If the surprise is successful, these boats may be
useful to eliminate the Chinese and the Sorensons. You will be
armed, of course. I am just adding thoughts at random. A little
red chalk-mark on the white frame of the companion-way will tell
me that you are aboard, if I should miss seeing you.

Yours in excitement, but not without hope,

ADITH MALLORY.

I _know_ what you can do.

THIRTIETH CHAPTER

MISS MALLORY'S MASTERY

Bedient felt the blood warming in his veins. This was the last of "the
four" nights. Miss Mallory's determination to sail with the Spaniard
was enough to spur him to attempt joining her; if, indeed, his absolute
need to break the deadly ennui had not banished hesitation. He glanced
through the letter again, and burned it.

"Monkhouse," he said below, "I've had about enough of Coral City this
time, and I'm riding back toward the _hacienda_ this afternoon. I'm
leaving a little present for you with the management of the Inn. Some
time I'll send a pony trap down for you, when I'm hungry for more
tales----"

The old man was more mystified than ever, but the business of the
Spaniard had to wait until he hunted up the management, with whom his
relations had worn thin. Bedient found his servant, ordered the ponies,
and the two rode up _Calle Real_, before one in the afternoon. They
passed _The Pleiad_ bluffs, overlooking the Inlet, where the
_Savonarola_ lay, and on for a mile or more into the solitude. Here
Bedient sent forward his servant with both ponies and let himself down
the bluff to follow the shore back.

The sand was white as paper and hot as fresh ashes. The muscles of his
face grew lame from squinting in the vivid light. There was not a human
being in sight on either length of curving shore, nor a movement in the
thickly covered cliffs. The world was silent, except for the languorous
wash of the little waves and the breathing of a soft wind in the
foliage. For an hour he made his way mostly under cover around the
shore to the mouth of the Inlet, from where he could see Jaffier's
gunboat on the watch.

The distance was about a thousand yards back to where the yacht lay.
The cut was a natural stronghold, opening sidewise on the face of the
shore, so as to be invisible from the open water. It was deep enough
for an ocean-liner, but too narrow for a big steamer to enter with her
own power. Bedient turned into the thick, tho