[Illustration:  LENORA KNOWS THAT QUEST IS IN DANGER AND GOES TO FIND HIM.]

[Illustration:  MARTA TRIES TO MAKE FRIENDS WITH CRAIG.]

He patted her hand affectionately but there was something a little forced about the action.

“Child,” he said, “it is so hard to make you understand.  I might lose myself for a few minutes, it is true, over yonder.  Perhaps, even,” he added, “you might help me to forget.  And then there would be the awakening.  That is always the same.  Sometimes at night I sleep, and when I sleep I rest, and when my eyes are opened in the morning the weight comes back and sits upon my heart, and the strength seems to pass from my limbs and the will from my brain.”

Her eyes were soft and her voice shook a little as she leaned towards him.  Something in his helplessness had kindled the protective spirit in her.

“Has life been so terrible for you?” she whispered.  “Have you left behind—­but no! you never could have been really wicked.  You are not very old, are you?  Why do you not stand up and be a man?  If you have done wrong, then very likely people have done wrong things to you.  Why should you brood over these memories?  Why—...  What are you looking at?  Who are these people?”

The Professor, with Quest and Long Jim, suddenly appeared round the corner of the building.  They walked towards Craig.  He shrank back in his place.

“If these are your enemies,” the girl cried fiercely, “remember that they cannot touch you here.  I’ll have the boys out in a minute, if they dare to try it.”

Craig struggled to his feet.  He made no answer.  His eyes were fixed upon the Professor’s.  The girl passed her arm through his and dragged him into the saloon.  They passed Jose in the doorway.  He scoffed at them.

“Say, the boss will fire you, Marta, if you waste all your time with that Yankee,” he muttered.

Marta drew the red rose from the bosom of her dress and placed it in Craig’s buttonhole.  Then she led him without a word to a seat.

“If these men try any tricks in here,” she said, “there’ll be trouble.”

Almost at that moment they all three entered.  Long Jim nodded to Craig in friendly fashion.

“It’s all right, cookie,” he told them.  “Don’t you look so scared.  This is just a bit of parley-vous business, that’s all.”

The Professor held out a piece of paper.  He handed it over to Craig.

“Craig,” he announced, “this is a dispatch which I found in Allguez with my letters.  It is addressed to you, but under the circumstances you will scarcely wonder that I opened it.  You had better read it.”

Craig accepted the cable-form and read it through slowly to himself:—­

    “To John Craig, c/o Professor Lord Ashleigh, Yonkers, New York: 

    “Your sister died to-day.  Her daughter Mary sails on Tuesday to
    join you in New York.  Please meet her.