me of fire ran through me. I took a step toward him, hand on sword
hilt. With a sweep of his jewelled hand he waved me back.

"Fie, fie, Kenn! In a lady's presence?"

Volney smiled at the girl in mock gallantry and my eyes followed his. I
never saw a greater change. She was transformed. Her lithe young figure
stood out tall and strong, every line of weariness gone. Hate, loathing,
scorn, one might read plainly there, but no trace of fear or despair. She
might have been a lioness defending her young. Her splendour of dark
auburn hair, escaped and fallen free to her waist, fascinated me with the
luxuriance of its disorder. Volney's lazy admiration quickened to a deeper
interest. For an instant his breath came faster. His face lighted with the
joy of the huntsman after worthy game. But almost immediately he recovered
his aplomb. Turning to me, he asked with his odd light smile,

"Staying long, may I ask?"

My passion was gone. I was possessed by a slow fire as steady and as
enduring as a burning peat.

"I have not quite made up my mind how long to stay," I answered coldly.
"When I leave the lady goes with me, but I haven't decided yet what to do
with you."

He began to laugh. "You grow amusing. 'Slife, you are not all country boor
after all! May it please you, what are the alternatives regarding my
humble self?" he drawled, leaning back with an elbow on the pillow.

"Well, I might kill you."

"Yes, you might. And--er-- What would I be doing?" he asked negligently.

"Or, since there is a lady present, I might leave you till another time."

His handsome, cynical face, with its curious shifting lights and shadows,
looked up at me for once suffused with genuine amusement.

"Stap me, you'd make a fortune as a play actor. Garrick is a tyro beside
you. Some one was telling me that your financial affairs had been going
wrong. An it comes to the worst, take my advice and out-Garrick Garrick."

"You are very good. Your interest in my affairs charms me, Sir Robert.
'Tis true they are not promising. A friend duped me. He held the Montagu
estates higher than honour."

He appeared to reflect. "Friend? Don't think I'm acquainted with any of
the kind, unless a friend is one who eats your dinners, drinks your wines,
rides your horses, and"--with a swift sidelong look at the girl--"makes
love to your charming adored."

Into the girl's face the colour flared, but she looked at him with a
contempt so steady that any man but Vol