ed rifles from their machines, and as
soon as the robbers appeared in pursuit greeted them with a rapid fire
evidently from magazines. I saw several saddles emptied as they turned
and rode off.

A few minutes after St. Nivel and his friends rejoined us.

"That was a lucky thought of mine," he said, laughing, when he had
gripped my hand and congratulated me on our escape.

I remembered seeing the bicycles being put into the train at Monte
Video, and the magazine rifles of course were in the guard's van, and
ought to have been used when the robbers attacked us, but they came too
suddenly and there was no time to get them.

From that time forward things went easily enough; steam was soon up,
and we were away again to Valoro within half an hour. At the next
station a special restaurant car was attached; we were treated like
heroes, sitting amid the popping of champagne corks relating our
adventures, and this went on long after the morning had broken.

But I, tired out, soon sought my bed in the sleeping-car, but not
before I had been assured at the door of the ladies' car, by Mrs.
Darbyshire, now all tears and smiles, that Dolores had regained
consciousness, and was unhurt, save for bruises and, of course, a
severe shock.

I slept until within an hour of our running into Valoro station late in
the afternoon, and just had time to have a delicious bath and emerge
fresh and hungry into the restaurant car in which St. Nivel, Lady
Ethel, and Dolores looking very pale and ill, were just finishing
lunch. My darling sat beside me while I lunched and held my hand--when
it was disengaged--unheeded by Mrs. Darbyshire. This lady, I think,
considered that the case had got beyond her and had better be relegated
to a higher court--Don Juan d'Alta--for judgment.

Dolores even lighted my cigarette for me, but soon after her aunt took
her away to prepare to leave the train.

"What on earth made you hand that poor devil of a brigand chief that
box of cigars, Jack?" I asked St. Nivel, when we were alone with Ethel,
and he had restored my precious casket to me; "he might have taken it
and got the whole shoot."

"At that moment," replied St. Nivel, glancing through the rings of his
cigar smoke quite affectionately at me, "I wished he _would_ take it.
Things looked very ugly for you, and we were powerless to help you. I
thought if he took the cigar case the casket would at least be with you
and you would know it and could use your