"You come off the German steamer?" suggested the woman.

Dawson nodded. "I came ashore with some friends," he answered, "from
the second-class. But I left them to go back and fetch this idol, and
here I am."

The tall man who had opened the door turned to the woman.

"So we must wait a leetle longer for your frien's," he said.

She tossed her head sharply.

"Friends!" she exclaimed. "Mother of God! Would you walk about with
your knives for ever? When every day other men are taken, can you ask
to go free? Am I the wife of the Intendente?"

"No, nod the vife!" barked the stout man violently. "But if you gan't
tell us noding better than to stop for der police to dake us, vot's
der good of you?"

The woman shrugged her shoulders, and the shawl slipped, and showed
them bare and white above her bodice.

"I have done all that one could do," she answered sullenly, with
defiant eyes. "Seven months you have done as you would, untouched.
That was through me. Now, fools, you must take your turn--one month,
three months, six months--who knows?--in prison. One carries a knife
--one goes to prison! What would you have?"