any cordiality in
the requests for his society.

The light was not good, and she did not see his lips pucker as for a
long whistle. But he did not whistle. He replied very humbly; and so
sweetly that Murguia quailed for the little shrew.

"W'y miss," he said, "it all comes of feeling my responsibility. I'm the
cause of your going, and that's why I'm going too."

His very earnestness gave her to understand that he had forgotten her
entirely. The finesse of the Tuileries could not have struck home more
delicately, and more keenly. "I've often heard," she thought to herself,
"that an awkward swordsman is dangerous." But she made no cry of
"touchee!" Instead she caught at the point to turn the blade aside.
"Responsibility? Truly sir, you _are_ considerate. But permit
me--my safety on this trip, what concern can that have for Your Mercy?"

"None at all," replied Driscoll, heartily.

His brow, none the less, was crinkled, and he watched dubiously as
Murguia helped the two girls into great armchair-like saddles. There was
not a woman's saddle in Tampico, but Jeanne d'Aumerle did not mind that.
She, the marchioness, enjoyed the oddity of a pommel in lieu of horn.
And the lady's maid might have been on a dromedary, for all the
consciousness the poor child had of it.

"Say," Driscoll interrupted with cool obstinacy, "where's our friend the
captain and that sky-blue Frenchman?"

Murguia pretended not to heed him. Jacqueline really did not. But Berthe
spoke up eagerly. She said that the two gentlemen were to meet them
later in the day. At least she hoped so, but--no, no, there could be no
doubt of it! Yet her words faltered, and there was an appeal in them.
But if she placed any hope in the strange American, she was quickly
disappointed.

"All right," he said, as if the matter were of no further consequence.
"Then I can make a nice comfortable report to Maximilian."

"Report to Maximiliano?" exclaimed Murguia.

Driscoll nodded indifferently.

"But Senor Coronel, when you do, you--you will remember that I said
nothing to--that is, to persuade the senoritas to take this journey."

"Nor not to take it, Wriggler."

"Yet you will say to His Majesty that I did suggest--yes, I do now--that
they had better not----"

His utterance drivelled to incoherency. The Mexican woman, she of the
cafe, stood before him. There was a warning on her stolid countenance.
Murguia wet his lips. "But," he stammered, "there--oh what danger ca