the lynx was roused. Never having deeply
loved the man, she took pleasure in using her claws on him. In taunting
him with what he might have had, however, she let the identity of the
newsbringer leak out.

De la Tour then warned her passionately against _le jeune aventurier
Americain_, and almost frightened the girl into disbelieving the whole
story. But proofs were forthcoming, and with the landlord's wife, who
enjoyed sharing a borrowed halo, Josephine Delatour--or Josephine
Doran--went to Algiers to await Mrs. Reeves's arrival. Meanwhile, with
the money she procured from Max, the girl planned to buy herself a
trousseau, and eventually departed, rejoicing in her lover's
discomfiture. Whether or no this attitude were safe with such a man
remained to be seen. As for Max--the messenger who had brought the
tidings--since he showed no desire to flirt with her, Josephine saw no
reason to be interested in him. Besides, she could hardly believe that
he was not somehow to blame for having kept what ought to have been hers
for his own all these years. She had not loved her supposed father and
mother, who had interfered with her pleasure, disapproving of what they
called her extravagance and frivolity.... There was no grief to the girl
in learning that the Delatours were not her parents.

Nor did it seem to Josephine that gratitude was due Max for resigning in
her favour. She was greedily ready to grab everything, without thanks,
just as her lynx-prototype would snatch a piece of meat, if it could get
it, from another lynx. She grudged the years of luxury and pleasure
which she ought to have had; and could she have realized that she had
made of Lieutenant de la Tour an enemy for Max Doran, she would have
been glad. It was right that two men should quarrel over a woman.

While he was arranging Josephine's affairs, Max saw nothing of Sanda
and Colonel DeLisle. He had thought it best to take up his quarters at
another hotel, and his only communication with them was by letter. He
wrote Sanda that when his business was finished he would make up his
mind what to do; but in any case he hoped that he might be allowed to
bid her and Colonel DeLisle farewell. In answer, came an invitation from
the Colonel to see the Salle d'Honneur of the Legion, the famous gallery
where records of its heroes were kept. "That is," (Sanda said, writing
for her father) "if you are interested in the Legion."

"If he were interested in the Legion!" Alread