of the chamber, and
disclosed a dark and gloomy cavern, hewn out of the solid rock, as was
the greater cavern. From a brazier she took a pine splinter, lighted it,
and beckoned Pearse into the cave. And as soon as his eyes adjusted
themselves to the gloom, he saw the place stowed tightly from floor to
ceiling with kegs and half-casks, hooped and marked with black
characters.

"Gold?" he gasped, perspiration starting to his brows.

"Gold!" Her rejoinder was tense, almost savage; she glared at him from
under the torch, a quivering shape of disgust.

"Why, Dolores, don't look like that," he laughed. "I did but wonder. If
this were all gold, it could not enhance your worth in my eyes."

"Then the proof will be easy. This is not gold. It is gunpowder. Our
whole store. My rascals are not to be trusted with more powder than they
can use at once. From this store I dole them out their rounds; thus are
all safe. But at this moment I have other use for this powder. Stay
here; or no, help me. It will be finished the sooner."

Dolores ran out into the great chamber again, Pearse following her
wonderingly. She left him in wonder but a short time; for, gathering up
a great armful of treasure she started back to the cave, crying: "Come,
fill thy arms, too." He paused, and she took up his hesitation swiftly,
feeling again a surge of doubt and disgust rise in her breast. She
called to him, scornfully: "What, art afraid? Come, faint one; beyond
here is my secret outlet from this place. Now art satisfied?"

And John Pearse followed into the cave, a-tingle with the hope that he
was indeed the elect. He saw her fling her riches down on the tops of
the kegs; she bade him do likewise, and then led the way back for more.
And so she went, and so he followed; journey after journey was
completed, until the gunpowder-kegs were almost buried beneath the
wealth of an empire. Then the girl stepped outside, and called Milo. The
giant appeared with silent speed.

"Milo, burst me one of these kegs," she ordered, and her voice forced
Pearse's attention; it was so cold, passionless, utterly controlled. The
keg was burst, and a trickle of coarse cannon powder ran on the floor.

"Lay a damp train out to the ledge over the grove, Milo!"

Milo disappeared through the gallery, trickling moistened powder from
his fingers as he went. Then, when his voice sounded back along the
passage, Dolores again took Pearse by the arm and said, looking him full
in t