ll in sight.

The _manta_ in which she was wrapped stifled her, and the weight of her
own hair under the wig and sombrero made her head ache and throb
violently.

As they rode she rehearsed her plans in her own mind, telling herself
over and over again the things that she must say and do when she was
alone with Vardri.

To-night would see Sobrenski's triumph, his grand coup, and when it was
all over perhaps she would have peace.

How slowly they all seemed to ride, she thought. She wondered how many
of the other men knew that she was chosen to act the part of murderess.
Some of them had been kind to her in a rough way, especially the older
ones.

But even if they did pity her a little, not one among them but would
expect her to do the thing that they would consider obviously her duty.

No one would raise a voice on her behalf, whatever their private
sentiments.

The majority of them would probably look upon her as a heroine, for she
would have rid them of a spy, a traitor.

She could only hope that she might keep her brain clear, her courage
firm till the supreme moment.

Once in the course of that awful day her nerves had given out in
physical collapse, and her shaking hands had let fall the mirror of
Agnes Sorel.

It lay on the floor in her bedroom, broken in three places.

Her early days in Ireland had given her a belief in the omens of good
and evil, for in the "emerald gem of the Western world" superstition
runs riot.

The faith in it was in her blood, though it needed no broken mirror to
tell her what dread thing awaited her, towards which she must advance,
urged by fate.

She had only written one letter, and that one was to Emile. Now that
he was gone there was no one else who cared.

Something told her now that his last words had only been an attempt to
comfort her, to ease her mind, and that she would wait in vain for his
return.

Estelle would weep for a little while, and drink a great deal to drown
her tears, and then forget. They were nearly at the hut now. She
could see it, a grotesque shadow thrown across the silvered earth.

She slipped off and walked, leading her mule by the bridle.

Behind her were subdued curses, the rattle of slipping hoofs and
falling stones, as the animals climbed the last and steepest piece of
road, which ended in the plateau on which the building stood.

In front of it was a single large tree, but most of the ground close by
bore nothing higher than dw