it to pieces with his bare hand, and piled it in among
the green logs. Then from his pocket he took a flask of whiskey, poured
a portion of it on the weak, red embers, and in an instant had the whole
mass of fuel in a roaring blaze.

Meanwhile Sybil, unable to stand, had sunk down upon the floor, where
she remained only until Gentiliska saw her by the blaze of the fire.

"You are as cold as ice!" said the kind-hearted girl taking Sybil's
hands in her own, and trying to warm them. "Come to the fire," she
continued, assisting the lady to rise, and drawing her towards the
chimney. "Sit here," she added, arranging her own red cloak as a seat.

"Thanks," murmured Sybil. "Thanks--you are very good to me."

"Moloch, she is nearly dead! Have you got any wine? If you have, give it
to me!" was the next request of the girl.

The giant lumbered off to a heap of miscellaneous luggage that lay in
one corner, and from it he rooted out a black bottle, which he brought
and put in the hands of the girl, saying:

"There! ha, ha, ha! there's some of her own old port! We made a raid
upon Black Hall buttery last night, on purpose to provide for her."

"All right. Now a tin saucepan, and some sugar and spice, old Moloch!
and also, if possible, a cup or tumbler," said Gentiliska.

The giant went back to the pile in the corner, and after a little search
brought forth all the articles required by the girl.

"Now, good Moloch, go and do for old Hecate what you have done for me.
Make her a fire, that she may have supper ready for the captain when he
comes," coaxed Gentiliska.

"Just so, Princess," agreed the robber, who immediately confiscated
another shutter, and carried it off into the adjoining back room to
kindle the kitchen fire.

"You were wrong to leave us! You got into trouble immediately! You would
have been in worse by this time, if we had not rescued you! Don't you
know, when the laws are down on you, your only safety is with the
outlaws?" inquired Gentiliska, as soon as she found herself alone with
her guest.

"I don't know. I don't care. It is all one to me now. I only wish to
die. If it were not a sin, I would die by suicide," answered Sybil with
the dreary calmness of despair.

"'Die by suicide!' Die by a fiddlestick's end! You to talk so! And you
not twenty years old yet! Bosh! cut the law that persecutes you and come
with us merry outlaws who protect you. And whatever you do, don't run
away from us again! You got u