u know that I am the one who is going to deal out the suffering?
There is nothing in God's world you love . . . except it be
yourself . . . as you love gold! To find is one thing; to keep is
another."

"You mean," she cried angrily, "that you will try to rob me?"

"I mean," he retorted grimly, "that in a little while you and I are
going out there to the edge of the cliffs. You shall watch me; you
shall see your diamonds circle in the sun before they go down into the
lake! And then the gold is going where they go!"

It seemed to him that now, at last, was he Lucky Drennen indeed. Never
had he known how to make this woman suffer; now he believed that the
way was made plain before him.

"David Drennen," she said, the beauty of her face swept across with a
fiery anger, "one of these days I am going to kill you!"

He laughed. He had waited long to stand there before her as he now
stood, laughing at her. He had dreamed dreams of a time like this but
always his dreamings had fallen short of the reality. He would hurt
her and then, staring into her eyes, he would laugh at her. He saw the
rush of blood flaming up redly in her face, saw it draw out, leaving
her cheeks white, and the evil in him raised its head and hissed
through his laughter.

"_Sangre de Dios_!" muttered the Mexican, twisting his head as he stood
facing the wall. "He has gone mad!"

Suddenly Ygerne had whipped off necklace and bracelet and had thrust
deep into her bosom the old famous French jewels which the gay Count of
Bellaire had won across the green topped tables. It was Drennen's time
to shrug.

"Put them where you please," he told her with his old lip-lifted sneer.
"I'll get them. Put them between your white breasts that are as cold
and bloodless as the stones themselves. I'll get them."

"You . . . you unspeakable cur!" she panted, in a flash scarlet-faced.

Garcia was edging slowly, noiselessly along the wall toward the two
revolvers, his and Ygerne's. Drennen whipped about upon him with a
snapping curse.

"Stand where you are, do you hear? You go free of this when I am
through . . . if you are not a fool! It is this girl I want. Her and
Sefton! Where is Sefton?"

Ygerne, biting her lips into silence, her eyes flashing at him, her
insulted breasts rising and falling passionately, answered him with her
mute contempt. Garcia lifted his shoulders.

"With el senor Marco he is away for the horses. . . ."

"Liar!" said Dren