hat I loved and mourn!"
Then, as if overcome with grief at the recollection of her widowhood,
she plucked away her hand, covered her eyes, and moved staggeringly out
of the room. And Cleek saw no more of her that day; but he knew when she
performed her orisons before the mummy case--as she did each morning and
evening--by the strong, pungent odour of incense drifting through the
house and filling it with a sickly scent.

Her absence seemed to make but little impression upon him, however; for,
following up a well-defined plan of action, he devoted himself wholly to
the Spanish woman, and both amazed her and gratified her vanity by
allowing her to learn that a man may be the silliest ass imaginable and
yet quite understand how to flirt and to make love to a woman. And so it
fell out that instead of "Lieutenant Rupert St. Aubyn" being elbowed out
by young Burnham-Seaforth, it was "Lieutenant St. Aubyn" who elbowed
_him_ out; and without being in the least aware of it, the flattered
Anita, like an adroitly hooked trout, was being "played" in and out and
round about the eddies and the deeps until the angler had her quite
ready for the final dip of the net at the landing point.

All this was to accomplish exactly what it _did_ accomplish, namely, the
ill temper, the wrath, the angry resentment of young Burnham-Seaforth.
And when the evening had passed and bedtime arrived, Cleek took his
candle and retired in the direction of the rooms set apart for him, with
the certainty of knowing that he had done that which would this very
night prove beyond all question the guilt or innocence of one person at
least who was enmeshed in this mysterious tangle. He was not surprised,
therefore, at what followed his next step.

Reaching the upper landing he blew out the light of his candle, slammed
the door to his own room, noisily turned the key, and shot the bolt of
another, then tiptoed his way back to the staircase and looked down the
well-hole into the lower hall.

Zuilika had retired to her room, the Major had retired to his, and now
Anita was taking up her candle to retire to hers. She had barely touched
it, however, when there came a sound of swift footsteps and young
Burnham-Seaforth lurched out of the drawing-room door and joined her. He
was in a state of great excitement and was breathing hard.

"Anita--Miss Rosario!" he began, plucking her by the sleeve and
uplifting a pale, boyish face--he was not yet twenty-two--to hers with