d there be an earthquake, so slight that I did not feel the shock?
Even as I asked myself the question, the shell of the fountain was
loosened from its support, and fell into the main basin, now almost empty.
The water-lilies and their green pads which floated sparsely there muffled
the sound of the crash, but there was a noise of breaking. The slabs of
coloured mosaic which paved the lower basin upheaved, as if the earth
beneath were bursting, and scattered from side to side, falling over the
crushed lines. Then through a ragged black aperture rose the head and
shoulders of a man.

The metallic sound had stopped; but from somewhere in the house there came
the slamming of a door.

The head and shoulders, motionless now, were sharply defined against the
scattered heap of white fragments, like the bust of a man modelled in
black marble. Someone whistled softly, and the tune was, "The Girl I Left
Behind Me."

"Dick!" I called through the close wooden lattice.

"Hurrah!" he answered; and the black marble bust became a full length
statue of a man.

How he had found me, how he had come, I did not know; but there he was,
and the gate of life had not closed upon me after all. Dick was out of the
jagged hole in the basin, and half across the _patio_, when a door, which
I had always seen shut, burst open to let out a stream of light, and the
figure of the old man I knew so well, leaped on him.

I was weak, and for a moment I turned sick, the _patio_ with its broken
fountain, and the forms of the men in a halo of yellow light, whirling
before my eyes as if there were indeed an earthquake. Then the mist
cleared, and like a rat in a cage I watched the fight which meant life or
death for more than one of us.

There was no _capucha_ now to cover the grey-streaked head and venerable
beard. Once I caught a glimpse of a profile sharp as a hawk's. The old man
had come out of the house with a Toledo sword-stick, such as the King and
his friend had used with the brigands, and as he saw the enemy he had to
deal with, he had thrown away the bamboo stick. The long, thin blade
glittered in the same light that showed me Dick, armed with an iron
crowbar, formidable and threatening.

If it had been a scene in a play, and I in the audience, I should have
applauded, for there was something in me which cried out that it was a
fine picture. But Dick's life and mine were in the balance.

XXXIX

DA