ard bestowed upon him. He saw Kootanie George enter alone;
he saw, a little later, Ernestine Dumont flirting with Ramon Garcia,
ignoring the big Canadian. Garcia stepped to Joe's side to arrange for
the use of the room in which Drennen and Ygerne were; Ernestine,
thinking the room empty as it usually was, came on to the arch of the
door before she saw its occupants. As her eyes swept quickly from
Ygerne to Drennen a hot flush ran up into the woman's cheeks. Then,
with a little, hard laugh, she turned back to find a seat with Garcia
at one of the oilcloth covered tables. Garcia, for the first time
seeing Ygerne, bowed sweepingly, his eyes frankly admiring her, before
he sat down with Ernestine.

"Ygerne!" said Drennen out of a desultory conversation in which an idle
question put and unanswered was promptly forgotten.

"Well?" she asked quietly.

"I am going to tell you something. You will note that I have had but
the one glass of wine; I have drunk only one toast. Therefore we may
admit that I am sober and know what I am about. We are going to talk
of the thing I have found somewhere in the mountains. That is why we
are met to-night . . . so that you may have your opportunity to try to
learn what I alone know, what you and so many others want to know.
When we have finished our little banquet you, being a free agent, are
at liberty to call upon one of your friends there or even upon Joe, to
see you to your room. Or you can accept my escort."

While she watched him, her elbows on the table, her chin upon her
clasped hands, he poured himself a second glass. She saw the light in
his eyes change subtly as he continued:

"A second toast, my Princess Ygerne! To the girl I am going to kiss
to-night on our way between Joe's and Marquette's!" He held his glass
up and laughed at her across the top of it. "To the girl I'd love now
were I a fool; the girl I wouldn't know to-morrow if I saw her! The
girl who pits the beauty of her body against the calm of a man's brain.
The girl whose eyes are as beautiful as shining stars. The girl whose
eyes are filled with the madness of the lust of gold! To a
sweet-faced, cool-hearted little adventuress . . . My Lady Ygerne! Am
I insulting? You knew that before you did me the honour to dine with
me. Shall I drink the toast, Ygerne?"

She sat regarding him gravely, the dimples of a moment ago merely sweet
memories, her eyes stars no longer but deep twin pools, mystery-fil