ed, owing to the
barrier between them. He tried again, and this time partially succeeded.
Then he tried to clamber over the counter, but missed his footing and
fell in a heap on the floor, where he lay, to all appearance, too drunk
to get up--helpless and stupefied.

The woman peered over at him with a sneer on her face. Then she arranged
the bottles in their places, and called out a noisy greeting to the
Sicilian who was smoking silently among the shadows with only the red
tip of his cigarette visible in the darkness. He made no reply. She
yawned, and looked downward at the drunken man once more. There was no
sign of life in his coarse face. He was wrapped deep in a drunken sleep,
and he still had money in his pockets. Ah, well! It should be hers when
these two strangers had gone.

She turned to a little recess behind the bar, and, approaching the wall,
looked at herself in a cracked looking-glass which hung there. Something
in her hair needed rearrangement, and she remained there straightening
it with her fingers. From where she stood she was within hearing
distance if any one descended the steps and entered the wine shop, so
she did not hurry. The contemplation of her coarse features and small
black eyes seemed to inspire her with a strange pleasure. She remained
at the glass, turning her head from side to side with a curiously
grotesque satisfaction. Then one of her large glass earrings was dull.
She took it out, and rubbed it vigorously on her skirt, humming a
popular tune to herself the while. The whole thing took time; but what
matter? There was no one in the vault save two drunken men, and another
who chose to sit in the darkness without making any response to her
advances. If a fresh customer had descended the greasy stone steps, and
pushed open the rickety swing door, he would have found her in her
place, ready with the usual coarse greeting or jest, should he chance to
be a neighbor or an acquaintance. Meanwhile, she was happy where she
was.

In the wine shop itself things were not exactly as she supposed. No
sooner had her back been turned, than the man near whom the Sicilian had
seated himself slowly raised his head, and looked around. Assured of her
departure, and after a moment's contemplation of the man who lay upon
the floor to all appearance so hopelessly drunk, he turned toward the
Sicilian.

"My orders, Signor," he whispered. "It is to be to-night?"

"Yes."

"The Signorina will not listen to