three or four _rendezvous_ held in the same
place, and more than once there were alarms and rumours of a visit from
the police.

As the days wore on Emile found new reason to congratulate himself upon
his discovery of "Fatalite," as he had nicknamed the girl. She had
shown herself possessed of a charming temper, a fine intelligence, and
a most complete understanding of the law of obedience.

She made no comments on anything she was asked to do, but delivered
messages and ran errands after the manner of a machine in good working
order. Even Sobrenski, who hated all women, was obliged to admit her
usefulness.

She was on pleasant terms with everybody down to the strappers,--the
men who harnessed the Hippodrome horses,--who adored her. Even the
cynical Manager was impressed by her pluck and skill, though he
considered it his privilege to regale her with comments on her personal
peculiarities.

The time arrived for her first performance at the Hippodrome. She made
her appearance in the ring in a turquoise blue habit, trimmed
hussar-fashion with much braid, and a plumed Cavalier hat, the dusky
shadows under her eyes accentuated, and her face powdered. The Manager
would not allow her to use rouge, so under the glaring electric lights
she appeared more than ever spiritual and unearthly.

Her type, he said, did not require colour; and the people preferred
anything morbid in the shape of looks.

Emile, who was among the audience on the first night, thought she
looked like a thorough-bred racer as she made a dignified entrance to a
clanging stately gavotte crashed out by the band. He had given her
dresser a couple of _pesetas_ to have her well turned out, and the
result was exceedingly satisfactory even to his critical eyes.

Her little head with its piled red hair was carried marvellously high,
and she swayed daintily on the back of the high-stepping Don Juan. She
bowed gravely to the various parts of the house, but she had no
stereotyped smile either for the boxes or for the lower seats. Her
slender figure gave the impression of great strength for a young girl.

"Steel in a velvet sheath, _ma foi_! Body and soul!" was Emile's
inward comment. "So much the better for the Cause."

A Spanish crowd usually gives but a languid reception unless roused by
something either horrible or sensational, but her bizarre appearance
had the effect which the Manager had foreseen.

In the second act she apparently changed her