modish design and the quadroon woman with her rough companion; and yet the eyes of all three had a curious resemblance, rising slightly at the corners, their color a deep fiery brown that was not without a tinge of red. The younger woman was evidently appealing to the man, for he shook his head and made a sign of dissent, shaking the forefinger of his right hand, and then setting to work on his knife again. The elder woman said something, in a language unknown to Margaret, in a soothing tone. The younger one answered passionately and with a despairing gesture.
"Theresita, be quiet; let 's hear no more about killing," said the man in a hoarse undertone. "Have n't you seen enough of that sort of business yet?"
The two in the street had paused outside, attracted by the picturesque interior, with its three striking figures. At these significant words Margaret started and turned to go. Rondelet stood perfectly still, his eyes fixed upon Therese, in whom he recognized the heroine of that strange adventure at the old duelling-ground.
Margaret touched him. "Come away," she whispered, appealingly.
Philip started, drew her arm through his own, and hurried her from the place, looking back over his shoulder as he walked.
