art. It was over; the
pure-hearted martyr, Francisco, was dead, and with him Otter, his
faithful friend and servant. Except Soa, who had become an active
enemy, at least so far as he was concerned, of all who travelled to this
hellish country Juanna and he alone were left alive, and sooner or later
fate must overtake them also. The greatest and last failure of his life
was about to be consummated, and he would go down into a nameless
grave, there to be lost, having for many years suffered and toiled to no
purpose, pursuing a chimera.

Juanna still slept heavily under the influence of the drug, and he was
glad of it, for when she woke it must be to a worse misery than any
that had gone before. Partly for something to do, and partly because
the cravings of nature made themselves felt even through his sorrows,
Leonard turned to the table and ate and drank of the viands there,
though not without fear that they might be doctored. As the food took
effect upon him some share of hope and courage entered into his heart,
for it is a true saying that a full stomach makes a brave man. After all
they two still breathed and were unharmed in body, nor was it absolutely
certain that they would be called upon to give up the ghost at present.
This was much.

Moreover, he had lived long enough to win the love of the fearless
and beautiful girl who slept beside him, and though perhaps under such
circumstances love, however true and passionate, ceases to occupy a
commanding place in a man's heart, even then he felt that this was more,
and that happier days might dawn when it would be, if not everything, at
least most of all.

As he thought thus, he saw colour creep into Juanna's pale face; then
she sighed, opened her eyes, and sat up.

"Where am I?" she said, glancing round wildly. "This is not the bed on
which I lay down. Oh!" she started, "is it over?"

"Hush, dear, hush! I am with you," said Leonard, taking her hand.

"So I see. But where are the others, and what is this dreadful place?
Are we buried alive, Leonard? It looks like a tomb."

"No, we are only prisoners. Come, eat and drink something, and then I
will tell you the story."

She rose to obey him, and for the first time her eyes fell upon the robe
she wore.

"Why, this is Francisco's! Where is Francisco?"

"Eat and drink," he repeated.

She did his bidding mechanically, watching his face the while with
wondering and frightened eyes.

"Now," she said, "tell me. I