ast she
echoed the words, "New Caledonia!"

"Is not that a prison for the French _forcats_?" she slowly asked.

Tacitly, the two men left the answer to Virginia. "Yes," said the girl.
"Noumea is a penal settlement. They say it is very interesting to see. We
thought that we might stop for a day or two in the harbour there."

This time the Countess turned. "Oh, but that would be terrible!" she
exclaimed. "We--they might rob and murder us, these convicts. You did not
say that we were coming to Noumea."

"It was to be one of our surprises," replied Virginia. "I thought that
you would like it."

"No, no!" ejaculated Manuela. "I do not like it at all. I have a horror
of such places and such people. This is a pleasure trip, is it not? There
is no pleasure in visiting a prison-land. Dear Virginia, dear Mr. Trent
and Sir Roger, do let us turn our faces another way and go somewhere
else."

Virginia had not lost a single changing shade of expression on the
Countess de Mattos's darkly beautiful face; but if she had been
questioned, she would have had to confess that she was disappointed in
the great effect toward which she had so long been working up. She had
half expected to see this wicked woman who, in some deadly and mysterious
way, had plotted to destroy Maxime Dalahaide, turn livid under the brown
stain which she (Virginia) suspected, gasp, totter, and perhaps fall
fainting when she heard those fatal names--"New Caledonia, Noumea." But
Manuela gave none of these evidences of distress. If she paled, the dusky
stain in whose existence Virginia so tenaciously believed hid the sign
of her emotion. It allowed a deep flush to be seen; even Virginia could
not deny that, but pallor was difficult to trace where complexion and
even lips were tinted brown and red; and the slight quivering of the
body, the dropping of the hand with the field-glass, were not so marked
that they might not be due to an ordinary, disagreeable surprise.

"I'm sorry you feel so about the place," said Virginia. "That's the worst
of planning surprises, isn't it? One can't always be sure of bringing off
a success. Now, I'm afraid we must make the best of it, for as we
arranged to come here, our stores won't last long enough to avoid New
Caledonia and go farther. We must buy butter and milk and vegetables, and
chickens and lots of things, to say nothing of coaling. But you needn't
see anything of the prison and the prisoners unless you like. The harbour
is