ments my poor little head turns round--Bueno
senor!" As she raised her voice she plucked the
rose from her dress and tossed it to Rezanov. Then
she lifted her chin and pouted her childish lips at
the ironical smile of the priest.

Rezanov was close to betraying his surprise; but
as he cherished a belief that the souls of all pretty
women went to school to the devil before entering
upon earthly enterprise, he wondered that he had
been open to the illusion of complete ingenuousness
in a descendant of one of the oldest and subtlest
civilizations of earth. Within that luminous shell
of youth there were, no doubt, whispering memories
of men and women steeped in court intrigue from
birth, of triumphant beauties that had lived for love
and their power over the passions of men as ardent
as himself. It was quite possible that she might be
as useful as she desired. But his impulses were in
leash. He merely looked and murmured his ad-
miration.

"Better ask, what chance have I, a defenceless
man, who has not seen a charming woman for three
years, against such practised art? If you can hood-
wink a Spanish priest, and manipulate a Governor
who has won the confidence of the most suspicious
court in Europe, what fortune for a barbarian of
the north? Less than with Japan, I should think."