me?" she begged.

He held her hand tightly.

"Not until you send me away!"

CHAPTER VII

"ROSARIO IS DEAD!"

Fenella never became absolutely unconscious. She was for some time
in a state apparently of intense nervous prostration. Her breath was
coming quickly, her eyes and her fingers seemed to be clinging to
his as though for support. Her touch, her intimate presence, her
reliance upon him, seemed to Arnold to infect the very atmosphere of
the place with a thrill of the strangest excitement.

"You think that he is dead?" she faltered once.

"Of course not," he replied reassuringly. "I saw no weapon at all.
It was just a quarrel."

She half closed her eyes.

"There was blood upon his waistcoat," she declared, "and I saw
something flash through the window."

"I will go and see, if you like," Arnold suggested.

Her fingers gripped his.

"Not yet! Don't leave me yet! Why did you say that you recognized
the hand--that it was the same hand you saw upon the window-sill
last night?"

"Because of the signet ring," Arnold answered promptly. "It was a
crude-looking affair, but the stone was bright scarlet. It was
impossible to mistake it."

"It was only the ring, then?"

"Only the ring, of course," he admitted. "I did not see the hand
close enough. It was foolish of me, perhaps, to say anything about
it, and yet--and yet the man last night--he was looking for Rosario.
Why should it not be the same?"

He heard the breath come through her teeth in a little sob.

"Don't say anything at present to any one else. Indeed, there are
others who might have worn such a ring."

Arnold hesitated, but only for a second. He chanced to look into her
face, and her whisper became his command.

"Very well," he promised.

A few moments later she sat up. She was evidently becoming stronger.

"Now go," she begged, "and see--how he is. Find out exactly what has
happened and come back. I shall wait for you here."

He stood up eagerly.

"You are sure that you will be all right?"

"Of course," she replied. "Indeed, I shall be better when I know
what really has happened. You must go quickly, please, and come back
quickly. Stop!"

Arnold, who had already started, turned back again. They were in a
ladies' small reception room at the head of the stairs leading down
into the restaurant, quite alone, for every one had streamed across
the courtyard to see what the disturbance was. The side of the room
adjoining the sta