d
passionately.

"Good night, beloved!" she said, and passed out of the room, leaving
behind the echoes of a rippling little laugh that set Venner's blood to
leaping.

CHAPTER XI.

PASCHERETTE UNVEILS HER PURPOSE.

Milo and Pascherette stood outside the rock portals of the great chamber
after their dismissal by Dolores, and the giant's face wore a look of
perplexity which was not reflected in the little octoroon. If her task
was difficult, Pascherette seemed not in the least disturbed; rather in
her sharp eyes lurked something of bravado at having escaped her
mistress's anger so easily. And this expression perplexed Milo.

"Art sure of thyself, Pascherette?" asked the giant, ill at ease for his
little companion.

"Why not?" she laughed, peering up at his troubled face impudently.
"Thinkest thou Pascherette is a fool?"

"No, thou art not a fool," replied Milo slowly. He laid a heavy hand on
her shoulder, turned her around to face the faint light remaining, and
gazed hard into her bright eyes. "Thou art not a fool, little one. But
Sancho--is it so simple to find him?"

"Big, childish Milo!" she cried with a laugh that had no joy in it.
"Dost think I feared that verdict of Dolores? No. I fear her whip only.
My flesh creeps even now at thought of my poor shoulders hadst thou not
appeared in time. Sancho? Pah! I can find him easily enough."

"Then, child, was there nothing in thy traffic with him save what I
heard from thy lips?"

Pascherette looked down, tapping the sand with her tiny foot, and her
breast fluttered in agitation. Then she slipped her hand into his,
looked up shyly yet ardently into his eyes, and replied swift and low:

"Milo, my love for thee must be my defense. I did have traffic with
Sancho, to the end that we--thee and me--might use him to our advantage.
Wait!" she cried, when he would have spoken, "hear me. Canst not see
Dolores's cunning intention? She goes from here, carrying her treasure;
what will she do with thee, once safely away? Will she carry thee always
with her, to be marked because of thy great stature? No, Milo, thy life
will pay for her desertion of her people, and she will laugh at thy
passing. And why should it be? Here, thou and I can rule these cattle as
she never could. With Sancho's deserters, and Rufe's followers, I can
give thee a band that will force the treasure from her greedy grasp, and
make of her what she has made of thee and me--a slave!"

"Girl!" Milo