ept to assure himself that he
could not entertain it, but it was racking him with its suddenness. The
King was there--in peril. She was here--safe. Insistently these two
facts assaulted his brain.

"Pardon, _Senor_." Blanco broke noisily down through the pines and
halted where the path emerged. For an instant he stood in bewildered
surprise.

"Pardon, Your Highness--" he exclaimed, bending low; then, quenching the
recognition in his eyes and assuming mistake, he laughed. "Ah, I ask
forgiveness, _Senorita_. I mistook you for the Princess. The resemblance
is strong. I see my error."

"Manuel!" Benton rose unsteadily and stared at the _toreador_ with a
face pallid as chalk. He spoke wildly, "Quick, Manuel--have you learned
anything?"

The Spaniard glanced inquiringly at the girl, and as Benton nodded
reassurance went on in a lowered voice. Only fragments of his speech
reached Cara's ears. Her own thoughts left her too apathetic to listen.

"The plan is this. It is to happen at the Fortress _do Freres_ this
afternoon while the King inspects the arsenal. Now, in fifteen minutes!"
He pointed down toward the city. "See, the cortege leaves the Palace!
Lapas was to be here at the rock--the blessed Saints help him! He is
hobbled to his telescope." Swiftly he rehearsed the story as it had come
from the lips of Lapas.

Benton was studying the Duke's lodge with his glasses. "There is a flag
flying on the west tower," he muttered.

He turned slowly toward the Princess. Outstanding veins were tracing
cordlike lines on his temples. His fingers trembled as he focused the
glasses.

Blanco looked slowly from one to the other. Suddenly he threw back both
shoulders and his eyes grew bright in full comprehension of the
situation he had discovered.

"_Senor!_" he whispered.

"Yes?" echoed the American in a dull voice.

"_Senor_--suppose--suppose I have confused the signals?" The tone was
insinuating.

Benton's mind flashed back to a Sunday School class of his childhood and
his infantile horror for the tale of a tempter on a high mountain
offering the possession of all the world if only--if only--

He took a step forward. Speech seemed to choke him.

"In God's name!" he cried, "you have not forgotten?"

The Spaniard slowly shook his head and smiled. The expression gave to
his face a touch of the sinister. "No--but it is yet possible to forget,
_Senor_. I serve no King, I serve you. Sometimes a mistake is the truest
accurac