ld promise to expect me, I don't yet know the man
who could stop my coming to you.'

The words were lightly spoken, but Valerie Selpdorf, looking up into
Rallywood's eyes, understood that he was likely to be able to make any
words of his good. They were handsome eyes, rather long in shape, frank
and steady, the iris of a dense grey bordering on hazel as became the
sunburnt yellow of his hair and moustache, and at that moment they
contained an expression which remained in Valerie's memory as the
distinctive expression of his face. Whenever in the future she recalled
Rallywood, she thought of him as he looked then.

'I will expect you,' promised Valerie.

They both knew that for the moment they stood together at one of those
cross-roads where life and death meet, where moreover a look and a word
convey a mutual revelation of character such as years of ordinary
intercourse often fail to supply.

Rallywood did not dance again; he contented himself with following the
movements of the black domino. After a time she joined a little group
of people with whom she stood talking. One of the group presently
detached himself and glanced round as if searching for some one. It was
Unziar of the Guard. He quickly perceived Rallywood and at once came
towards him.

'Allow me to recall myself to your memory, Captain Rallywood; I am
Unziar of the Guard,' he said bowing, both voice and bow touching that
extreme of punctiliousness which in itself constitutes an insolence.

'The Guard are said to have long memories. I hope in that particular, at
least, if in no other, to support their traditions,' replied Rallywood,
with an air of cool and serene indifference said to be impossible to any
but men of his race.

'That is--something,' rejoined Unziar with a smile that belied its name.
'We are somewhat exigeant in the Guard. We ask for more than a long
memory--a long pedigree, for example, and a long sword.'

'I have heard that also.'

Unziar glanced sharply at him out of his pale keen eyes. The fellow was
too non-committal to please his taste. To hound a coward out of the
corps promised infinitely less difficulty and enjoyment than he had
hoped for when he pledged himself to rid the Guard of the Englishman.
For perhaps the only time in his life he wished he wore any uniform but
the tell-tale green and gold, for he knew of the Guard that it was often
their 'great name that conquered.'

Spurred by this thought he looked Rallywood very s