oan of pain or curse of baffled rage. Be
that as it may, the sound served one purpose: Victoria Edgecombe (to
append her correct name for the first time) drew her child farther away,
her right hand reaching forth to pluck a light yet effective spear from
where it lay against the wall.

"Mother, mother!" faintly panted the maiden, plainly at a loss to
comprehend all that had so recently transpired. "What is it? What does
it all mean? Surely that was Ixtli; and--the other?"

"A messenger from your father, child, and--"

"My father? I thought--he is not--not dead?"

"Thanks be to heaven, not dead!" with hysterical joy in face as in
voice. "Alive, and seeking us, Gladys! Coming to rescue us from this
death in life, and now--to your knees, my daughter; to thy knees, and
lift thanks unto the good Father who has at last listened to my moans!"

Again the war-drum boomed forth in an awesome roll, but all unheeding
that ominous sound, paying no attention to the stirring of yonder
savage, whose lacerated scalp was painting his face a deeper red than
even nature intended, mother and daughter sank to their knees, lifting
hands and hearts towards the All-Powerful, even as their gratitude
floated towards the Throne of Grace.

Then arose the hoarse tones of Huatzin, bidding his allies find and slay
without mercy; cursing the treacherous Aztec who had thus guided one of
a strange tribe into the very heart of their beloved city.

With a short, fierce ejaculation, Victo sprang to her feet, right hand
once again grasping shaft of javelin, its copper point gleaming ruddily
in the rays of lamp as though already moistened by the heart-blood of
yonder villain.

Far differently acted the maiden, her figure trembling with fear and
wonder commingled, her lips slightly blanched as she clung closer to her
mother. Yet through all ran a touch of girlish curiosity which helped
shape the words now crossing her lips.

"Who was it, mother? Who could the stranger be? And whither has he
gone?"

"With Ixtli, my child, and may the good God of our own people grant
them both life and liberty! If I thought--your father, Gladys! Alive
and looking for his beloved ones! See! from his own dear hand, and he
says--Hold! who comes there?"

But the alarm appeared to be without actual foundation, for the sounds
came no closer, remaining beyond the drapery past which Lord Hua had
staggered only a few brief seconds before.

Gladys rallied more speedily than