shall see you again before I leave, I trust."

"My stay here is very short. I am only on a special mission, and I
must return to the Crimea without delay. But we shall certainly meet
again some day, Mrs. Wilders; you may rely on that."

There was meaning, menace even, in this last speech, and it gave Mrs.
Wilders food for serious thought.

McKay did not pause to say more. He was too eager to go elsewhere.

His first visit, as in duty bound, had been to report his arrival and
set on foot the business that had brought him. His second was to see
sweet Mariquita, the girl of his choice.

They had exchanged several letters. His had been brief, hurried
accounts of his doings, assuring her of his safety after every action
and of his unalterable affection; hers were the artless outpourings of
a warm, passionate nature tortured by ever-present heartrending
anxiety for the man she loved best in the world. There had been no
time to warn her of his visit to Gibraltar, and his appearance was
entirely unexpected there.

Things were much the same at the cigar-shop. McKay walked boldly in
and found La Zandunga, as usual, behind the counter, but alone. She
got up, and, not recognising him, bowed obsequiously. Officers were
rare visitors in Bombardier Lane and McKay's staff-uniform inspired
respect.

"You are welcome, sir. In what can we serve you? Our tobacco is
greatly esteemed. We import our cigars--the finest--direct from La
Havanna; our cigarettes are made in the house."

"You do not seem to remember me," said McKay, quietly. "I hope
Mariquita is well?"

"Heaven protect me! It is the Sergeant--"

"Lieutenant, you mean."

"An officer! already! You have been fortunate, sir." La Zandunga spoke
without cordiality and was evidently hesitating how to receive him.
"What brings you here?"

"I want to see Mariquita." The old crone stared at him with stony
disapproval. "I have but just arrived from the Crimea to buy horses
and mules for the army."

"Many?" Her manner instantly changed. This was business for her
husband, who dealt much in horseflesh.

"Thousands."

"Won't you be seated, sir? Let me take your hat. Mariqui--ta!" she
cried, with remarkable volubility. The guest was clearly entitled to
be treated with honour.

Mariquita entered hastily, expecting to be chidden, then paused shyly,
seeing who was there.

"Shamefaced, come; don't you know this gentleman?" said her aunt,
encouragingly. "Entertain him, little o