is no doubt she was beautiful upon the pillow without the
aid of scented bottles.

Heh! I felt him quiver, this great sailor, when he saw Pal Yachy
standing there, but I put my arms about him whispering to him to wait.
It was dark where we were, there was a light from the stove only.

Oh my, there the dark Italian was glittering and heaving; he went
holding in his fist a canvas sack stamped by the Government, containing
the proper weight of gold.

"This is his weight in gold," he said, and there he laid it at her
knees. Still her eyes were closed against that demon of a singer, as he
went saying, "But now my dear one, there must be no more talk of
husbands. Ha! ha! they are like smoke, these husbands. When it has
drifted, there must be new fire. So they say in my country."

She lay, not speaking to him, with the sack of gold heavy against her
knees.

"Is this plain?" said that Italian. Look now, Rainbow Pete is in his
very shadow. Ay, in the shadow of this man who had fashioned him like a
rainbow.

"This is a great sum," said Pal Yachy, never looking behind him. "To
this must be added the silence of one day in the valley."

"The silence," she went whispering, "the silence."

Ha! ha! this was not so dangerous as song. She was leaning on her elbow,
clutching the red blanket to her throat, with her long fingers twisting
at the bag. Now my heart stumbled. Oh now, I thought, the gold is heavy
against her; this is a misfortunate time to be forsaking her husband,
isn't it? Look, the shadow was deeper in the cheek of this sailor. He
saw nothing, I fancied, but the gold lying on the blanket.

What next I knew? Here was McGregor in his yellow skull, whispering,

"Is this the gold then at the foot of the rainbow? This is fool's gold
where the heart is concerned."

Then, my friend, she threw it clear of the bed. Ay! I heard it falling
on the ledge there, but at this time she did not know that Rainbow Pete
was in the room.

When she had thrown it, then she saw him, standing behind that demon of
a singer. Her eyes were strange then. By the expression of her eyes Pal
Yachy saw that he was doomed. He was like a frozen man.

"Wait now," said Rainbow Pete, "am I in my house here?"

"Am I not your wife?" cried the dark woman from Regina.

Oh, the pleasant sailor. The song had touched him.

"Look now," he said to Pal Yachy, "you made a rainbow of me in the
beginning. Do you bring gold here now to plant at my feet, genero