"You had not thought of his plight," continued Shere. "He rides out
from Ronda an honest soldier and returns--what? No more a soldier than
this glove of yours is your hand," and taking up one of the gloves he
held it for a moment, and then tossed it down at a distance from its
fellow. He deliberately turned his back to the table as Christina
replied:

"The bearer would be just our pledged enemy--pledged to outwit us, as
we to outwit him. But when you came there was no effort made to outwit
you. Own that at all events? You carry your orders safely, with your
honour safe, though the consequence may be disaster for us, and
disgrace for that we did not prevent you. Own that! You and I, I
suppose, will meet no more. So you might own this that I have used no
tricks with you?"

The appeal coming as an answer to his insult and contempt, and coming
from one whose pride he knew to be a real and dominant quality,
touched Shere against his expectation. He faced Christina on an
impulse to give her the assurance she claimed, but he changed his
mind.

"Are you sure of that?" he asked slowly, for he saw that the gloves
while his back was turned had again been crossed. He at all events
was now sure. He was sure that those crossed gloves were a signal for
Esteban, a signal that the letter had not changed hands. "You have
used no tricks with me?" he repeated. "Are you sure of that?"

The handle of the door rattled; Christina quickly crossed towards it.
Shere followed her, but stopped for the fraction of a second at the
table and deliberately and unmistakably placed the gloves in parallel