that steady stare, until, finding the silence
intolerable, he burst out:

"Well, ma'am, am I a bugbear?"

In her dazed condition she probably did not hear his words; or, if she
did, set no meaning to them, Her glance, however, strayed to the
narrow window, and then wandered back to the well-worn interior of the
coach. Suddenly, as the startling realization of her position came to
her, she uttered a loud cry, sprang toward the door, and, with nervous
fingers, strove to open it. The man's face became more rubicund as he
placed a detaining hand on her shoulder, and roughly thrust her toward
the seat.

"Make the best of it!" he exclaimed peremptorily. "You'd better, for
I'm not to be trifled with."

Recoiling from his touch, she held herself aloof with such aversion, a
sneer crossed his face, and he observed glumly:

"Oh, I'm not a viper! If you're put out, so am I."

"Who are you?" she demanded, breathlessly.

"That's an incriminating question, Ma'am," he replied. "In this case,
though, the witness has no objection to answering. I'm your humble
servant."

His forced drollery was more obnoxious than his ill-humor, and,
awakening her impatience, restored in a measure her courage. He was
but a pitiful object, after all, with his flame-colored visage, and
short, crouching figure; and, as her thoughts passed from the brutal
part he had played on the road to her present situation, she exclaimed
with more anger than apprehension:

"Perhaps you will tell me the meaning of this outrage--your smothering
me--forcing me into this coach--and driving away--where?"

His face became once more downcast and moody. Driven into a corner by
her swift words, his glance met hers fairly; he drummed his fingers
together.

"There's no occasion to show your temper, Miss," he said reflectively.
"I'm a bit touchy myself to-day; 'sudden and quick in quarrel.' You
see I know my Shakespeare, Ma'am. Let us talk about that great poet
and the parts you, as an actress, prefer--"

"Can I get an answer from you?" she cried, subduing her dread.

"What is it you asked?"

"As if you did not know!" she returned, her lip trembling with
impatience and loathing.

"Yes; I remember." Sharply. "You asked where we were driving? Across
the country. What is the meaning of this--outrage, I believe you
called it? All actions spring from two sources--Cupid and cupidity.
The rest of the riddle you'll have to guess." Gazing insolently into
her face, with h