t him in the most ravishing
way--"The path is quite easy to follow."

She preceded him out of the "floral hall," and across the great
gardens, now in their most brilliant bloom to a gate which she opened,
pointing with one hand towards the hill where the flat outline of the
"hut of the dying" could be seen clear against the sky.

"There it is"--she explained--"It's nothing of a climb, even on the
warmest day. And the air is quite different up there to what it is down
here."

"Better, I suppose?"

"Oh, yes! Much better!"

"And is that why Mr. Seaton lives in the hut? On account of the air?"

Manella waved her hands expressively with a charming Spanish gesture of
indifference.

"I suppose so! How should I know? He is here for his health."

Sam Gwent uttered a curious inward sound, something between a grunt and
a cough.

"Ah! I should like to know how long he's been ill!"

Manella again gave her graceful gesture.

"Surely you DO know if you are a friend of his?" she said.

He looked keenly at her.

"Are YOU a friend of his?"

She smiled--almost laughed.

"I? I am only a help in the Plaza--I take him his food--"

"Take him his food!" Sam Gwent growled out something like an
oath--"What! Can't he come and get it for himself? Is he treated like a
bear in a cage or a baby in a cradle?"

Manella gazed at him with reproachful soft eyes.

"Oh, you are rough!" she said--"He pays for whatever little trouble he
gives. Indeed it is no trouble! He lives very simply--only on new milk
and bread. I expect his health will not stand anything else--though
truly he does not look ill--"

Gwent cut her description short.

"Well, thank you for showing me the way, Senora or Senorita, whichever
you are--I think you must be Spanish--"

"Senorita"--she said, with gentle emphasis--"I am not married. You are
right that I am Spanish."

"Such eyes as yours were never born of any blood but Spanish!" said
Gwent--"I knew that at once! That you are not married is a bit of luck
for some man--the man you WILL marry! For the moment adios! I shall
dine at the Plaza this evening, and shall very likely bring my friend
with me."

She shook her head smiling.

"You will not!"

"How so?"

"Because he will not come!"

She turned away, back towards the Hotel, and Gwent started to ascend
the hill alone.

"Here's a new sort of game!"--he thought--"A game I should never have
imagined possible to a man like Roger Seaton! Hiding himse