Fitz nodded. Cipriani de Lloseta walked to the window and quietly
drew down the blind.

"So falls the curtain," he said, "on the little drama of my humble
life."

He turned and looked from one to the other with that sudden warmth
of love which either of them seemed able to draw from him.

"Some day," he said, "I will tell you--you two--the story, but not
now."

He stepped forward and raised Eve's fingers to his lips. A quaint,
half-Spanish grace marked the picture of Southern chivalry.

"My child," said Lloseta, "may Heaven always bless you!" And he
left them.



CHAPTER XI. "MILKSOP".

What have we made each other?

The cathedral bells were calling good Papists to their morning
devotion as the Croonah moved into Valetta harbour. No sooner did
her black prow appear between the pier heads than a score of boats
left the steps, their rowers gesticulating, quarrelling, laughing
among themselves with Maltese vivacity.