dilla, Francis
Paradilla----what of him?"

"He lay alone on a divan in the cabin--dead also."

He tried to speak, but failed, his fingers clawing at his throat. When
he finally gained utterance once more, it was but a whisper.

"Tell me," he begged, "there was no woman with him?"

I stared back into the wild insanity of his eyes, trying to test my
words, suddenly aware that we were upon the edge of tragedy, perhaps
uncovering the hidden secret of this man's life.

"There was no woman," I said gravely, "on deck or in the cabin."

"What mean you by saying that? There was one on board! Don't lie to
me! In an hour I am dead--but first tell me the truth. Does the woman
live?"

"No, she died before. We found her body in a chest, preserved by some
devilish Indian art, richly dressed, and decked with jewels."

"English?"

"I judged her so, but with dark hair and eyes. You knew her?"

"In the name of all the fiends, yes. And I know her end. He killed
her--Paradilla killed her--because she was as false to him as she had
been to me. Hell! but it is strange you should be the one to find
her--to bring me this tale, Geoffry Carlyle!"

"Why? What is it to me?"

"Because she is of your line--do you know her now?" "No; nor believe
it true."

"Then I will make you; 'tis naught to me anymore; for I am dead within
the hour. You go back to England, and tell him; tell the Duke of
Bucclough how his precious sister died."

"His sister! Good God, you cannot mean that woman was Lady Sara
Carlyle?"

"Who should know better than I?" sneeringly. "Once I was called in
England, Sir John Collinswood."

He sank back, exhausted, struggling for breath, but with eyes glowing
hatred. I knew it all now, the dimly remembered story coming vividly
back to memory. Here then was the ending of the one black stain on the
family honor of our race. On this strange coast, three thousand miles
from its beginning, the final curtain was being rung down, the drama
finished. The story had come to me in whispers from others, never even
spoken about by those of our race--a wild, headstrong girl, a secret
marriage, a duel in the park, her brother desperately wounded, and
then the disappearance of the pair. Ten days later it was known that
Sir John Collinswood had defaulted in a large sum--but, from that
hour, England knew him no more. As though the sea had swallowed them
both, man and woman disappeared, leaving no trace behind.

The face I gazed dumbl