iant replaced the great stone. Then Dolores turned back to Pearse,
under the soft, red glow of the unseen lamps, and flashed a bewildering
smile upon him.

"Wilt believe now that I love thee?" she whispered, and her lids drooped
over swimming eyes. "Beyond that great door lies the chamber to enter
which costs death. Art afraid?"

"Lead on," replied Pearse hoarsely. There was no trace of fear in his
voice or in his eyes; but Dolores warmed gladly to the knowledge that
here at last was a man whose thoughts were bent upon her and not on her
chamber of treasures.

They stood before the massive sliding door of plate and jewels, and here
the human side in John Pearse showed through for an instant. Under the
great, yellow lantern the gold and silver plates, the glowing rubies,
the glinting emeralds, made a picture of fabulous riches that even he
could not ignore. But at the upward slide of the door his eyes left the
richness of it without a flicker; he waited for the heavy velvet
hangings to be drawn, and when Dolores's eyes sought his they surprised
his deep, ardent gaze fastened full on herself and not upon what might
next be revealed.

"Enter, man of my heart," she smiled, and stood aside to permit him to
pass.

In the first steps over the threshold John Pearse saw little save a dim,
cool hall, vast and full of vagrant shadows; then, when Milo had
arranged the lights so that they gradually grew in power, flooding the
chamber with mellow radiance, his soul seemed to burst from his throat
in one choking, stupefied gasp.

"The Cave of Aladdin!" he choked, and stood open-mouthed while Dolores
laughed softly at his shoulder.

"Nay," she reproved. "'Tis the Cave of Dolores. 'Tis mine, and"--she
turned her face up toward his alluringly--"may be thine, if thou'rt a
true man!"

With shrewd artistry she twisted away as he strove to clasp her, and
there she left him standing, in the midst of untold treasures that every
moment were increasingly revealed to him. Without another glance for
him, or apparently another thought, she took Pascherette by the hand and
led her down the chamber to the great chair. Here she busied herself
with salves and lotions to assuage the scald of the girl's fresh burns,
which were more painful than serious. And every moment she was thus
charitably employed her gleaming eyes were fixed upon Pearse from under
concealing lashes; every moment Milo's dusky face was bent upon her from
the end of the cha