- company him on a filibustering expedition to Cuba.
Think of it! The fool!" sneers Isabel.
"And you will not go."
"Most certainly not. I only half-promised. To-morrow I shall send word that I have changed my mind."
"And meanwhile you have accomplished something toward your new duties, eh?" remarks Van Zandt. If Isabel Harding could read the dark, handsome face that she loves so well, she would know that she has lost forever the esteem of Phillip Van Zandt.
"You have betrayed the man who trusted you," continues Van Zandt in the same quiet and impassive voice.
"Betrayed him? And what if I did?" flashes Isabel passionately. "Call it treachery if you will. I say it is only a reprisal of treachery. Take me out of here, Phillip. I am sick of these lights and the music and the scent of the flowers."
"I will see you to a carriage," says Van Zandt, quietly.
Ten minutes later he says good-by to her, as he prepares to close the carriage door.
"Some day, Phillip, you will realize how much I love you," Isabel whispers, as she presses to her lips the hand he mechanically gives her.
Words, words, words; but destined to have a tragic fulfillment!
Van Zandt looks after the retreating carriage with a darkening brow. "Call it treachery if you will," he repeats, grimly. "By George! I'll spike her ladyship's guns! The cause of liberty shall not be jeopardized by the indiscretion of its friends or the machinations of its enemies!"
As he turns and re-enters the garden a man steps to a waiting cab, and, indicating the carriage which is bearing off Isabel Harding, he whispers to his driver: "Keep that rig in view till it stops. Understand?"
