searched. As for Van Dam, a delicious ferocity was flaming through his veins. Here was an enemy bent upon his quick destruction. No game he had ever played was half so exhilarating as this. He could feel the fellow writhe and the breath bursting through beneath his fingers; he could feel the man's cords harden until they were like wire. Strange to say, with every wrench and every surge his own abysmal fury increased. But the Spider was no weakling; he fought desperately until, in a burst of blind anger that was like some diabolic glee, Van Dam lifted him bodily and hurled him at the opening in the floor. The fellow missed his footing, clawed wildly, then fell backward headlong into the light below. The next instant Van Dam, too, had lost his balance and followed, bumping from step to step until he fetched up at the foot with a jar that drove the breath out of him.
He sat up in a moment, still dazed; then he heard a rustle, and beheld above him a pair of frightened, dark eyes gazing into his. Although he could see nothing of the girl's face—she had replaced her mask—he knew that she was racked with anxiety.
"Are you killed?" she queried.
"No; just abominably twisted," he said. Then, with a wry face: "Ouch! That was an awful bump." As he felt himself over gingerly he stopped short at the sight of his mask lying crumpled beside him. He realized that the jig was up and began to formulate an explanation of his deception, only to hear her exclaim, tremulously:
"God be praised! You are unhurt."
He sat still, staring at her, amazed that no outburst followed her glimpse of his face.
"How did you dare—?" She turned to the figure of François, which Roly discovered motionless an arm's-length away.
The Spider was sprawled loosely in the litter. His head was twisted upon his shoulders in a peculiar way, and his mask, having slipped to the back, stared upward with a placid, waxlike smile that was horrible under the circumstances.
Still lost in wonderment, Van Dam arose, dusted off his clothing, and picked up his own disguise. Was it possible that she did not know the person she had gone to meet? It seemed so, indeed, for she was hanging upon him anxiously, as if still doubting his safety, while she half sobbed her admiration of his bravery and her gratitude at his escape. Roly began to fear he had been imposed upon, after all, else how could she fail to realize that he was an utter stranger? But the girl's honesty was compelling; he found that he could not doubt the sincerity of her gaze.
He felt an unaccountable lack of compunction regarding the Spider. In fact, he experienced a sense of satisfaction at the completeness of his victory over the ruffian, and she seemed to share the feeling.
He heard her urging him to make haste, and before he had fully regained his wits he found himself following her out into the sunlight. Underneath the wagon-shed she guided him, around behind it and into a narrow three-foot space, the left side of which was bounded by a board fence about head-high.
"Quick!" she cried, eagerly. "Once we are on the other side we may escape. The others are somewhere close by."
II
Van Dam, being accustomed by this time to a certain obedience, lifted the girl up to the top of the fence, scrambled over it himself, and held up his arms to her. He was in another yard, much cleaner than the one he had just quit. There were trees and flowers in it, and looking down on them were shuttered windows which seemed empty. As she surrendered her weight to him he gave rein to the license which was in his blood and pressed a warm kiss back of her mask where the hair lay in wispy ringlets against her neck.
"Mon Dieu! What a man!" she laughed, struggling gently to free herself. "You had better put on your mask. We haven't far to go, but there may be observing eyes."
"Am—I—er—quite the person you pictured?" he queried, as he adjusted the false face.
"Not at all."
"You have never seen me before to-day?"
"Of course not! How could I?"
"I have seen you often."
"Impossible! Where?"
"Dreams!" said Van Dam, vaguely, yet with some degree of truth. "This all seems like a dream, as a matter of fact. I'm afraid I'll turn over, and you'll change into an old lady with hoop-skirts, or a flock of purple snowbirds, or a friendly crocodile with gold spectacles."
She pondered this for a moment as they made their way across the yard, being careful in the mean while to see if they were observed. After a moment she halted.
"Wait!" she said. "I—am not sure we dare risk going farther, for the streets are alarmed and the Wolf is in the neighborhood with all his pack. I had thought to take you straight home, but now they will be watching. It would be madness to try it." Again she fell silent, only to exclaim: "I have an idea. Come!" She turned abruptly to the right.
"Where are we going now?" he inquired, mildly.
She pointed to a house the back yard of which abutted upon the one that they were crossing. "Yonder is your cousin Alfred's house. He is away at business, the servants are out watching the carnival, and so it is empty. Do you dare venture it?"
"Just the thing!" he said, amiably. "I owe Alfred a call."
The girl laughed shortly. "Ah! He would die of rage—or fright—if he knew; but you can wait there while I go—"
"Oh, I say! You're not going to leave me?" queried Roly in genuine alarm.
"Of course, silly! Some one must bring her."
Van Dam fell silent, speculating upon this last remark. After a moment he said, "You're sure Alfred won't return?"
"Who knows? We must run some hazards. The key will be under the step, I think. Come!"
They gained ingress to the next inclosure through a cedar hedge. Then, as they neared the back door, a distant commotion sounded from the stable-yard, warning them that the Spider's friends had stumbled upon him. But the girl's ready fingers found the key where it was hidden, and an instant later they were in a spotless creole kitchen ornamented with shining pots and pans. A cat rose from a sleepy window-ledge, arched its back, and stretched.
With a warning gesture Van Dam's guide bade him wait, then disappeared, returning in a moment.
"It is as I thought—the house is empty." She beckoned him, and he followed her past a pantry, down a hall, and into a study furnished with a considerable degree of elegance. Drawn blinds shut out the glaring heat; it was dim and cool and restful.
The maiden heaved a sigh of relief and steadied herself against one of the massive mahogany chairs, showing by her attitude that the recent strain had told upon her.
"Heaven be praised! You are safe here, for a time at least," she managed to say.
"Nice, comfy place, this," remarked Van Dam, with an appreciative glance at the surroundings. "We can sit here and—and get acquainted—eh?"
"Hm-m! I think I have learned to know you quite well in the past half-hour," she laughed.
"True!
