order which would certainly have sent Anne de Caylus from the
world, when I cried passionately--it was my last chance, and I
never wished to live more strongly than at that moment--I cried
passionately, "Andrea Pallavicini, if such be your name, look at
that! Look at that!" I repeated, shaking my open hand with the
ring on it before his face, "and then hinder me if you dare! To-
morrow if you have quarterings enough, I will see to your
quarrel! Now send me on my way, or your fate be on your own
head! Disobey--ay, do but hesitate--and I will call on these
very men of yours to cut you down!"

It was a bold throw, for I staked all on a talisman of which I
did not know the value! To me it was the turn of a die, for I
had had no leisure to look at the ring, and knew no more than a
babe whose it was. But the venture was as happy as desperate.

Andrea Pallavicini's expression--no pleasant one at the best of
times--changed on the instant. His face fell as he seized my
hand, and peered at the ring long and intently. Then he cast a
quick glance of suspicion at his men, of hatred at me. But I
cared nothing for his glance, or his hatred. I saw already that
he had made up his mind to obey the charm: and that for me was
everything. "If you had shown that to me a little earlier, young
sir, it would, maybe, have been better for both of us," he said,
a surly menace in his voice. And cursing his men for their
stupidity he ordered two of them to unmoor a boat.

Apparently the craft had been secured with more care than skill,
for to loosen it seemed to be a work of time. Meanwhile I stood
waiting in the midst of the group, anxious and yet exultant; an