sacrament, and he scarcely dared touch the childish lips
she offered.

But when the sacrament of the kiss had been accomplished, she rested one
hand on his shoulder and rose, and drew him with her.

Then _his_ moment came: he drew the emblazoned case from his breast,
opened it, and, in silence, laid it in her hands. The blaze of the
jewels in the sunshine almost blinded them.

That was _his_ moment.

The next moment was Quintana's.

* * * * *

Darragh hadn't a chance. Out of the bushes two pistols were thrust hard
against his stomach. Quintana's face was behind them. He wore no mask,
but the three men with him watched him over the edges of handkerchiefs,
-- over the sights of levelled rifles, too.

The youthful Grand Duchess had turned deadly white. One of Quintana's
men took the morocco case from her hands and shoved her aside without
ceremony.

Quintana leered at Darragh over his levelled weapons:

"My frien' Smith!" he exclaimed softly. "So it is you, then, who have
twice try to rob me of my property!

"Ah! You recollec'? Yes? How you have rob me of a pacquet which
contain only some chocolate?"

Darragh's face was burning with helpless rage.

"My frien', Smith," repeated Quintana, "do you recollec' what it was you
say to me? Yes? ... How often it is the onexpected which so usually
happen? You are quite correc', l'ami Smith. It has happen."

He glanced at the open jewel box which one of the masked men held, then,
like lightning, his sinister eyes focussed on Darragh.

"So," he said, "it was also you who rob me las' night of my property.
... What you do to Nick Salzar, eh?"

"Killed him," said Darragh, dry lipped, nerved for death. "I ought to
have killed you, too, when I had the chance. But -- _I'm_ white, you
see."

At the insult flung into his face over the muzzles of his own pistols,
Quintana burst into laughter.

"Ah! You _should_ have shot me! You are quite right, my frien'. I
mus; say you have behave ver' foolish."

He laughed again so hard that Darragh felt his pistols shaking against
his body.

"So you have kill Nick Salzar, eh?" continued Quintana with perfect good
humour. "My frien', I am oblige to you for what you do. You are
surprise? Eh? I is ver' simple, my frien' Smith. What I want of a man
who can be kill? Eh? Of what use is he to me? Voila!"

He laughed, patted Darragh on the shoulder with one of his pistols.

"You, now -- _you_ could be of use. Wh