air. An agony of fear took hold of
Leonard. He knew the story of the poison which she carried: was she
about to use it?

Once again their eyes met, and there was warning in his glance. Juanna
loosed her hair indeed, and let it fall about her shoulders, covering
her rent robe to the waist, but she did no more. Only after this Leonard
saw that she kept her right hand closed, and knew that her death was
hidden within it. Then she spoke once more to Pereira.

"In your last hour may you remember these two deeds!" she said, pointing
to the writhing kitten and to her torn dress.

Now slaves drew near to do their master's bidding, but that audience
would not suffer this.

"Leave her alone," they said; "we can see that the girl is fair and
perfect."

Then the slaves hung back, nor did Pereira repeat his commands.

Returning to the verandah, he stood by the chair, and, taking an empty
glass in his hand by way of an auctioneer's hammer, he began:

"Gentlemen, I am going to offer you a very choice lot, so choice that
it makes up all the sale. The lot is a white girl, half English and half
Portuguese by blood. She is well educated and devout; as to her docility
I can say nothing, that will be for her husband to attend to. Of her
beauty I need not speak; you can all see it yourselves. Look at that
figure, that hair, those eyes; have any of you known their equal?

"Well, this lot will be sold to him among you who is inclined to make
me the largest present in compensation; yes, he may take her this very
hour, and my blessing with her. But there are conditions: he whom I
approve must be lawfully married to the girl by the priest Francisco
here," and turning he pointed to a small melancholy-looking man, with a
womanish face and dark blue eyes, who stood in the background, clothed
in a somewhat tattered priest's robe. "Then I shall have done my duty by
her. One more thing, gentlemen: we are not going to waste time in little
bids; the upset price will be thirty ounces."

"Silver?" said a voice.

"Silver? No, of course not. Do you think you are bidding for a nigger
girl, fool? Gold, man, gold! Thirty ounces of gold, and payment to be
made on the nail."

There was a groan of disappointment, and one ruffian cried out:

"What are we poor fellows to do? Thirty ounces for a beginning! Where is
our chance?"

"What are you to do? Why, work hard at your profession, and grow rich,
of course! Do you suppose that these prizes are for t