oe had fallen from his shoulders.
The Snake was to him but a wretched reptile whose head he would crush
ere it bruised his heel. He was sane--he was safe--he was a Man again,
and ere many days were past he would be the husband of Lucille and the
master of Monksmead._

"Oh, God forgive me for a blind, rebellious worm," he prayed. "Forgive
me, and strike not this cup from my lips. You would not punish the
blasphemy of a madman? I _cannot_ pray in ordered forms, but I beg
forgiveness for my hasty cry 'There is on God' ..." and then pressed
the Sword to his lips--the Sword that, under God, had overthrown the
_"Darling, I am cured! I have not the slightest fear of snakes. The
Sword has saved me. I am a Man again."_

He told her all as she sat laughing and sobbing for joy and the dying
snake lay at their feet.

In her heart of hearts Lucille determined that the wedding should take
place immediately, so that if this were but a temporary respite, the
result of the flash of daring inspired by the Sword, she would have
the right to care for him for the rest of his life ... She would----

"Look!" she suddenly shrieked, and pointed to where, in the doorway,
cutting them off from escape, was the mate of the cobra that lay
mangled before them. Had the injured reptile in some way called its
mate--or were they regular inhabitants of this deserted hut?

It was Lucille's first experience of cobras and she shuddered to see
the second--evidently comprehending, aggressive, vengeful--would it
spring from there ... and the Sword lay on the bed, out of reach.

Dam arose with a laugh, picked up his heavy boot as he did so, and,
all in one swift movement, hurled it at the half-coiled swaying
creature, with the true aim of the first-class cricketer and trained
athlete; then, following his boot with a leap, he snatched at the tail
of the coiling, thrashing reptile and "cracked" the snake as a carter
cracks a whip--whereafter it dangled limp and dead from his hand!
Lucille shrieked, paled, and sprang towards him.

"Oh, Dam!" she cried, "how _could_ you!"

"Pooh, Kiddy," he replied. "I'm going to invite the Harley Street cove
to have a match at that--and I'm going to give a little exhibition of
it on the lawn at Monksmead--to all the good folk who witnessed my
disgrace.... What's a snake after all? It's _my_ turn now;" and
Lucille's heart was at rest and very thankful. This was not a
temporary "cure". Oh, thank God for her inspiration anent