fly and cry for help?" asked Perez.

Terrible, revealing light!

Juana said nothing, but she wrung her hands and went to her arm-chair
and sat down.

At that moment a tumult rose in the street which was plainly heard in
the silence of the room. A soldier of the 6th, hearing Montefiore's cry
for help, had summoned Diard. The quartermaster, who was fortunately in
his bivouac, came, accompanied by friends.

"Why did I fly?" said Montefiore, hearing the voice of his friend.
"Because I told you the truth; I am married--Diard! Diard!" he shouted
in a piercing voice.

But, at a word from Perez, the apprentice closed and bolted the doors,
so that the soldiers were delayed by battering them in. Before they
could enter, the Marana had time to strike her dagger into the guilty
man; but anger hindered her aim, the blade slipped upon the Italian's
epaulet, though she struck her blow with such force that he fell at the
very feet of Juana, who took no notice of him. The Marana sprang upon
him, and this time, resolved not to miss her prey, she caught him by the
throat.

"I am free and I will marry her! I swear it, by God, by my mother, by
all there is most sacred in the world; I am a bachelor; I will marry
her, on my honor!"

And he bit the arm of the courtesan.

"Mother," said Juana, "kill him. He is so base that I will not have him
for my husband, were he ten times as beautiful."

"Ah! I recognize my daughter!" cried the mother.

"What is all this?" demanded the quartermaster, entering the room.

"They are murdering me," cried Montefiore, "on account of this girl; she
says I am her lover. She inveigled me into a trap, and they are forcing
me to marry her--"

"And you reject her?" cried Diard, struck with the splendid beauty which
contempt, hatred, and indignation had given to the girl, already so
beautiful. "Then you are hard to please. If she wants a husband I am
ready to marry her. Put up your weapons; there is no trouble here."

The Marana pulled the Italian to the side of her daughter's bed and said
to him, in a low voice,--

"If I spare you, give thanks for the rest of your life; but, remember
this, if your tongue ever injures my daughter you will see me again.
Go!--How much 'dot' do you give her?" she continued, going up to Perez.

"She has two hundred thousand gold piastres," replied the Spaniard.

"And that is not all, monsieur," said the Marana, turning to Diard. "Who
are you?--Go!" she repeated to Montef