could find. Colomba came to his side,
led him into a window, and spoke to him for a moment in an undertone,
showing him something she held under her _mezzaro_.

"Mademoiselle," said Orso to Miss Nevil, "my sister is anxious to give
you a very odd present, but we Corsicans have not much to offer--except
our affection--which time never wipes out. My sister tells me you have
looked with some curiosity at this dagger. It is an ancient possession
in our family. It probably hung, once upon a time, at the belt of one of
those corporals, to whom I owe the honour of your acquaintance. Colomba
thinks it so precious that she has asked my leave to give it to you, and
I hardly know if I ought to grant it, for I am afraid you'll laugh at
us!"

"The dagger is beautiful," said Miss Lydia. "But it is a family weapon,
I can not accept it!"

"It's not my father's dagger," exclaimed Colomba eagerly; "it was given
to one of mother's ancestors by King Theodore. If the signorina will
accept it, she will give us great pleasure."

"Come, Miss Lydia," said Orso, "don't scorn a king's dagger!"

To a collector, relics of King Theodore are infinitely more precious
than those of the most powerful of monarchs. The temptation was a
strong one, and already Miss Lydia could see the effect the weapon would
produce laid out on a lacquered table in her room at St. James's Place.

"But," said she, taking the dagger with the hesitating air of one
who longs to accept, and casting one of her most delightful smiles on
Colomba, "dear Signorina Colomba . . . I can not . . . I should not dare
to let you depart thus, unarmed."

"My brother is with me," said Colomba proudly, "and we have the good gun
your father has given us. Orso, have you put a bullet in it?"

Miss Nevil kept the dagger, and to avert the danger consequent on
_giving_ instruments that cut or pierce to a friend, Colomba insisted on
receiving a soldo in payment.

A start had to be made at last. Yet once again Orso pressed Miss Nevil's
hand, Colomba kissed her, and then held up her rosy lips to the colonel,
who was enchanted with this Corsican politeness. From the window of
the drawing-room Miss Lydia watched the brother and sister mount their
horses. Colomba's eyes shone with a malignant joy which she had never
remarked in them before. The sight of this tall strong creature, with
her fanatical ideas of savage honour, pride written on her forehead,
and curled in a sardonic smile upon her lip