undisciplined joy. A riderless pony, the one upon which Jose'
had made his escape when the firing began, had crept into the
stable an hour previous, stiff and bruised and weary, and had led
the people at the Palms to fear the worst.

Mr. Langham and his daughter were standing on the veranda as the
horses came galloping up the avenue. They had been awake all the
night, and the face of each was white and drawn with anxiety and
loss of sleep. Mr. Langham caught Hope in his arms and held her
face close to his in silence.

``Where have you been?'' he said at last. ``Why did you
treat me like this? You knew how I would suffer.''

``I could not help it,'' Hope cried. ``I had to go with Madame
Alvarez.''

Her sister had suffered as acutely as had Mr. Langham himself, as
long as she was in ignorance of Hope's whereabouts. But now that
she saw Hope in the flesh again, she felt a reaction against her
for the anxiety and distress she had caused them.

``My dear Hope,'' she said, ``is every one to be sacrificed for
Madame Alvarez? What possible use could you be to her at such a
time? It was not the time nor the place for a young girl. You
were only another responsibility for the men.''

``Clay seemed willing to accept the responsibility,'' said
Langham, without a smile. ``And, besides,'' he added, ``if Hope
had not been with us we might never have reached home alive.''