erment,
and in it she revelled.

"Ingenuity!" she mused. "I declare, I believe the first human being to
stand up on his hind legs must have been an American. It simply occurred
to him one day that he didn't need all fours for walking, and that he
might as well use his before-feet for something else."

"And a Frenchman, Miss Jack-leen?"

She flung up her hands.

"_He!_" she exclaimed. "If ever a compatriot of mine had gotten
that idea into his--how you say?--pate, would he not carry it out to the
idiotic limit, yes? He? _He_ would try to walk without any feet
whatever, and use _all_ of them for other things. Already you have
seen him doing the, the pugilat--the box--with every one of his fours.
Voila!"

But time was passing. Lopez had certainly repaired his girths by this
time. Driscoll arose. "There's a shorter way back," he announced. "The
river junction can't be far down stream, and I'll wait for you there,
Miss Jack-leen, while you scout on ahead to the hacienda house. If all's
clear, you signal and I will advance with the heavy cavalry."

"C'est bien, mon colonel."

"Whatever that means, I hope it ain't mutiny."

At best it was only mock compliance. Jacqueline also knew that time was
passing, but she had not mentioned the fact. Now the reason transpired.
She harked back on their separation, with a grave earnestness and a
saddened air of finality. He was to leave her here, she said. He was to
go back to his own country. How badly had his reception fared so far?
Why not, then, leave Mexico to ingratitude, and have done? The romantic
land of roses was notoriously a blight to hopes. Why should he seek to
thrive despite the mysterious curse that seemed to hover over all things
like a deadly miasma?

Driscoll shook his head. "You know I have come to see Maximilian."

"But you are under sentence. You will lose your life."

"Miss Jack-leen, you said a while back that I was your prisoner. You
have the Austrian escort. All right. You will deliver me to the
Emperor," and he waved his hand as though the matter was arranged.

"But monsieur," she cried, "may not others have plans as vital as yours?
And, perhaps--yes, you interfere."

He did interfere, in grimmest truth. Leaving the Sphinx of the
Tuileries, she had come with her mission, and with an idea, too, of the
obstacles that must be vanquished. But here, almost at landing, she
encountered a barrier left out of her calculations, and which alone,
unaided, she