d blow your brains out to-night! Give
me those despatches.'

There was a rapid movement and the gleam of a pistol barrel in his hand.

'Thank God!' It was not more than the faintest whisper from Rallywood as
he sprang at his companion.

But there was no report, only an ominous click as Counsellor flung the
unloaded revolver in Rallywood's face with a bitter word.

'It was not loaded.'

Hardly had they closed when the door was opened and a couple of men
supported Unziar into the room. The water ran in streams from his
clothes to the floor, while he stood and stared at the two combatants
who had fallen apart.

'I suppose they sent you to meet me, Rallywood,' he said in English; 'it
is lucky, for I'm done! You must carry those despatches on without
delay, for they must reach the Chancellor at the earliest possible
moment. Go; there is no time to lose!'

Rallywood pointed to Counsellor.

'This gentleman is my prisoner. You will keep him here until further
orders. Meantime I will ride on with these to Revonde.'

Counsellor and Unziar remained together, but no word passed between them
till out in the windy night they heard the beat of hoofs as Rallywood
rode away on his mission.

CHAPTER XXVI.

LOVE'S HANDICAP.

As Rallywood galloped steadily through the night under the shrinking
moon, with the _tsa_ behind him and the pearl-grey road withering away
into the level distance ahead, it happened that the two women of whom he
must have had some thoughts during that lonely ride met and spoke
together.

'Valerie, I called for you to go with me to the Abenfeldt's reception,
because I have a question to ask you,' began Isolde at once when the
door of the carriage was closed.

The passing lamps shone varyingly upon their faces as they passed
through the lighted streets, and Madame de Sagan looked at her
companion.

'Where is Captain Rallywood?' she added abruptly.

His name had not passed between them since the interview at the
block-house.

'I cannot tell you. I don't know,' said Valerie coldly.

'Oh, my dear child, all is fair in love and war! Why be so dreadfully
cross with me still?'

'Is it necessary to recur to the subject at all?'

'Will you never forgive me, I wonder?'

Valerie looked steadily back into the lovely face, where the underlying
spirit of mockery was transmuted into an innocent playfulness like a
child's.

'On the contrary, I thank you.'

'Why--for humbling him? Valerie, you