him; he is in pressing danger," said the boy, whose
large eyes were now filled with tears.

"Does he know you are in the Crimea?"

"I have been unable to find him. I lost all my money; it was stolen
from me directly I landed, and, if I had not found this place with the
black woman, I should have starved."

"Poor child! Alone and unprotected in this terrible place. It was
sheer madness your coming."

"But I could tell him in no other way."

"Tell him what?"

"He has two bitter and implacable enemies, who are sworn to take his
life."

Hyde shook his head gravely.

"It is true, as Heaven is my witness--perfectly true. But read this if
you doubt me," and the boy, who was no other than Mariquita in
disguise, produced the scrap of paper she had picked up in the shop in
Bombardier Lane.

"I did not doubt your words. I was thinking of those enemies--one of
them, at least--and wondering why she is permitted to live."

He took the letter, and read it slowly.

"Her handwriting! I was sure of it. To whom was this addressed?"

"Benito Villegas. Perhaps you know him--he is a native of the Rock."

"I remember him years ago. And has he carried out these instructions?
Is he here?"

"I cannot make out. I have looked for him, but have been unable to
find him."

"Not at the address stated here? You have been to it?"

"Several times, but have never seen him."

"He is probably in some disguise; that would suit his purpose best. We
will hunt him up, never fear. But Stanislas must first be warned."

"You will go to him--at once?"

"This very day. And you--won't you come too?"

"No, no! I cannot." Mariquita blushed crimson. "He would chide me. It
is wrong, I know; I have no right to be here, but he was in such
danger. I risked everything: his displeasure, my life, my good name."

"Yes," said Hyde, thoughtfully; "this is no place for you; it is a
pity you came to it. Still, we should not have known but for you; as
it is, you had better stay here."

"With Mother Charcoal?"

"Just so. She is a worthy old soul, and can be trusted. It will be
best, I think, to tell her the exact state of the case. Leave that to
me."

"You will not delay in warning Stanislas?" said Mariquita, placing her
hand on his arm.

"No; I will go directly after I have spoken to our black friend. Be
easy in your mind, little woman, or Senor Pongo, or whatever you like
to be called, and expect to see me again, and perhaps some one else
you know