"The emeralds? You haven't them!" cried Kitty, becoming her mother's

daughter, though her heart never beat so thunderously as now. "We

thought you had them!"

Karlov stared at her, moodily. "What is that button for, at the side of

your bed?"

Kitty comprehended the working of the mind that formulated this

question. If she answered truthfully he would accept her statements. "It

rings an alarm in the basement."

Karlov nodded. "You are truthful and sensible I haven't the emeralds."

"Perhaps one of your men betrayed you."

"I have thought of that. But if he had betrayed me the drums would have

been discovered by the police.... Damn them to hell!" Kitty wondered

whether he meant the police or the emeralds.

"Later, food and a blanket will be brought to you. If your ransom does

not appear by midnight you will be taken away. If you struggle we may

have to handle you roughly. That is as you please."

Karlov went out, locking the door.

Oh, the blind little fool she had been! All those constant warnings, and

she had not heeded! Cutty had warned her repeatedly, so had Bernini; and

she had deliberately walked into this trap. As if this cold, murderous

madman would risk showing himself without some grim and terrible

purpose. She had written either Cutty's or Johnny Two-Hawks' death

warrant. She covered her eyes. It was horrible.

Perhaps not Cutty, but assuredly Two-hawks. His life for her liberty.

"And he will come!" she whispered. She knew it. How, was not to be

analyzed. She just knew that he would come. What if he had smiled like

that! The European point of view and her own monumental folly. He would

come quietly, without protest, and give himself up.

"God forgive me! What can I do? What can I do?"

She slid to the floor and rocked her body. Her fault! He would

come--even as Cutty would have come had he been the man demanded. And

Karlov would kill him--because he was an error in chronology! She sensed

also that the anarchist would not look upon his act as murder. He would

be removing an obstacle from the path of his sick dreams.

Comparisons! She saw how much alike the two were. Cutty was only Johnny

Two-Hawks at fifty-two--fearless and whimsical. Had Cutty gone through

life without looking at some woman as, last night, Two-Hawks had looked

at her? All the rest of her life she would see Two-Hawks' eyes.

Abysmal fool, to pit her wits against such men as Karlov! Because

she had been successful to a certain extent, she had overrated her

cleverness, with this tragic result... He had fiddled the soul out of

her. But death!




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