ace of his assurance.

He had been so perfectly diplomatic, indeed, during the whole affair,
that she had come to respect and fear him more than ever. Even in that
sudden midnight departure from the house in Beekman Place, in that
unaccountable panic which made him decide to flee from the vicinity of
Ronicky Doone--even in that critical moment he had made sure that there
was a proper chaperon with them. During all her years with him he had
always taken meticulous care that she should be above the slightest
breath of suspicion--a strange thing when the work to which he had
assigned her was considered.

"Well," he asked, "now that you've seen, how do you like it? If you
wish, we'll move today after the ceremony. It's only a temporary halting
place, or it can be a more or less permanent home, just as you please."

It rather amused her to listen to this deprecatory manner of speech. Of
course she could direct him in small matters, but in such a thing as the
choice of a residence she knew that in the end he would absolutely have
his own way.

"I don't know," she said. "I like silence just now. I'll stay here as
long as you're contented."

He pressed her hand very lightly; it was the only time he had caressed
her since they left New York, and his hand left hers instantly.

"Of course," he explained, "I'm glad to be at a distance for a time--a
place to which we can't be followed."

"By Ronicky Doone?" Her question had sprung impulsively to her lips.

"Exactly." From the first he had been amazingly frank in confessing his
fear of the Westerner. "Who else in the world would I care about for an
instant? Where no other has ever crossed me once successfully, he has
done so twice. That, you know, makes me begin to feel that my fate is
wrapped up in the young devil."

He shuddered at the thought, as if a cold wind had struck him.

"I think you need not worry about him," said the girl faintly. "I
suppose by this time he is in such a condition that he will never worry
another soul in the world."

The other turned and looked at her for a long, grave moment.

"You think he attempted to break into the house?"

"And didn't you expect the same thing? Why else did you leave New York?"

"I confess that was my idea, but I think no harm has come to him. The
chances are nine out of ten, at least, that he has not been badly hurt."

She turned away, her hands clenched hard.

"Oh my honor," he insisted with some emotion. "I gave d