sed too soon
for us actually to see him, we are convinced that he is the person we
seek."

"I think you are mistaken," said Zahara coolly. "But what do you want
him for?"

As she uttered the words she realized that even the memory of Grantham
was sufficient to cause her to betray herself. She had betrayed her
interest to the man himself, and now she had betrayed it to this
dark-faced stranger whose manner was so mysterious. The Spaniard
recognized the fact, and, unlike Grantham, acted upon it promptly.

"He has taken away the wife of another, Senorita," he said simply, and
watched her as he spoke the lie.

She listened in silence, wide-eyed. Her lower lip twitched, and she bit
it fiercely.

"He went first to Port Said and then came to London with this woman,"
continued the Spaniard remorselessly. "We come from her husband to ask
her to return. Yes, he will forgive her--or he offers her freedom."

Rapidly but comprehensively the speaker's bold glance travelled over
Zahara, from her golden head to her tiny embroidered shoes.

"If you can help us in this matter it will be worth fifty English pounds
to you," he concluded.

Zahara was breathing rapidly. The fatal hatred which she had sought to
stifle gained a new vitality. Another woman--another woman actually
here in London! So there was someone upon whom he did not look in that
half-amused and half-compassionate manner. How she hated him! How she
hated the woman to whom he had but a moment ago returned!

"Then he will marry this other one?" she said suddenly.

"Oh, no. Already he neglects her. We think she will go back."

Zahara experienced a swift change of sentiment. She seemed to be
compounded of two separate persons, one of whom laughed cruelly at the
folly of the other.

"What is the name of this man you think your friend has recognized?" she
asked.

The big stick was rapping furiously during this colloquy.

"We are both sure, Senorita. His name is Major Spalding."

That Spalding and Grantham were neighbouring towns in Lincolnshire
Zahara did not know, but:

"No one of that name comes here," she replied.

"The one you heard and--who has gone--is not called by that name." She
spoke with forced calm. It was Grantham they sought! "But what happens
if I show you this one who is not called Spalding?"

"No matter! Point him out to me," answered the Spaniard eagerly--and his
dark eyes seemed to be on fire--"point him out to me and fifty pounds of
Engl