Dolores spent her night in slumber as peaceful as a babe's. When Milo had completed his task with the treasure chests he went to his own couch. John Pearse wandered deep into the eery forest, his brain filled with tumultuous fancies, while Craik Tomlin and Rupert Venner lay in the dark before the open doors of their separate cells, struggling for a decision with their own good and evil natures. But Dolores, before retiring called Pascherette to dress her hair and gave the little octoroon some secret instructions against the morning.

"Now to thy bed, girl, and wake with bright eyes," said Dolores, her toilet completed. "Let thy busy tongue wag its liveliest then; see to it that the strangers hear whispers and rumors, yet keep them apart and from harm a while. Thy task with the other rabble is easy. I care not how they are divided. But divided they must be; to the point of mutiny. Go, and sweet dreams to thee."

It was then that a subtle happiness stole into Dolores's face; then her great luminous eyes closed slowly in utter peace; then that she lay down with a gentle sigh on her couch of furs and slept care-free and smiling.

Dreams not of the brightest might have ruffled her calm had she seen the night watch of her maid. For the moment Pascherette was dismissed, and gave a second thought to her orders, a light of dawning hope, prospective triumph, broke over the small, gold-tinted face and sleepiness fled for the night.

"Divided they shall be!" she whispered, and hugged herself rapturously. "Divided to her disaster and—Milo's triumph!"

Then the maid wrapped herself in a robe, and went out to the camp.

Like a fantom she appeared to Venner, and as swiftly vanished; but in the moment that she bent over him she whispered in his ear that Tomlin was the chosen of Dolores; that he and Pearse were doomed at the hands of their friend.

"I tell thee, watch," she said. "By noon to-morrow the truth shall be shown to thee." And in leaving him she placed in his hands the rapier that had been taken from him by Dolores.

To Tomlin next she appeared, and his rapier also she returned; but in his ear was breathed the name of John Pearse. To find Pearse himself was harder; but she waited, and shortly before the dawn he emerged from the forest and walked dully toward his own charred cell.

"Hah, my friend," she said to him, suddenly appearing from the shades. "I fear thy tardiness has defeated thee. Now thou'lt need to look to thyself, for the man Venner has vowed thy life to Dolores, and that of Tomlin."

"What! Venner?"

"Surely. Why not? Is not Dolores worthy such a sacrifice then? Hah, but Venner is a man of decision. Thy eyes saw the treasure? It's lost to thee—unless—" she whispered, peering up into his angry face.

"Unless?"

"Unless thou prove the better man. Dolores would have thee before all the rest, friend; but she despises a waverer. I tell thee thy fortune is yet in thy hands."

"How?"

"Here, I have thy sword. Take it, and keep aloof and watch. When thou canst see men carrying the treasure chests out to the white vessel, then will be the time to strike. Join thyself with the men who seem faithful to my mistress. There will be fighting; and the spoils are for the victor."

Pearse would have stayed her, but she ran from him with a tantalizing laugh and vanished into the women's quarters.

In the morning, when the men had breakfasted, a hum of activity pervaded the place which was attributable to the octoroon's subtle influence. As if by prearrangement, men drew apart into little knots, each gathering about a leader and showing indecision until each man ascertained exactly where his fellows were going. Then Dolores appeared with Milo, and she faced four distinct parties before the great stone.

The sun was metallic in its redness, rising from behind a group of low-hanging, hazy clouds, casting its fierce beams on the point and the low shores of the anchorage. A brazen sky overtopped the scene, giving to green foliage and yellow sands alike, a glare as of terrific artificial light.

As Dolores appeared, the party headed by Caliban stepped forward, muttering angrily, and every man kept hand on knife or cutlass. Caliban himself, nervous and yet determined, glared at the formidable giant and suddenly sprang out alone, shaking his first at Milo, and working himself into greater fury. A frown darkened the face of Dolores; she had commanded Pascherette to bring about a condition of unrest, but nothing like this; for in all four parties was an attitude of suspicion of herself, not of each other. She spoke in a low voice to Milo, then raised her hand and advanced toward Caliban.

"Well, whelp of a deformed dog!" she cried. "What do ye seek with me? Is this the way I've taught thee to beg?"

"I beg nothing!" screamed Caliban, pacing to and fro restlessly. "We demand, not beg!"

"Demand? Have a care for thy loose tongue!"

"My tongue's my own! We are tired of thy trumpery state. Tired of thy mystery and falsity. We know thy plot—know thy cunning scheme to carry thy favorites away from here—to carry away the treasure that is ours, not thine! Think ye we men will let ye go, to set the dogs of war-ships upon us? Here and now we demand a settlement."

"Demand, again? Good Caliban"—she said softly, and smiled upon him—"thy training has been faulty. Come, I will answer thee."

"Ye answer us all, or none. I know thee too well to trust thee. Answer these men, who ask thy reason for keeping these three strangers to the detriment of thine own people. Sancho paid dearly for his sight of thy great chamber. Did the stranger who was in there with thee last night suffer, too?"

"That's the talk; answer!" shouted the crew, led by Caliban's band and supported less vociferously by the rest.

"Silence, then; I will answer!" cried Dolores, quivering with suppressed rage. She spoke again to Milo, then turned to face the mob, her head erect, her eyes ablaze.

She flashed a keen glance toward Pearse, who had sidled over to the band led by Stumpy, who seemed less accusative than the others; she nodded faintly, approvingly, and sought the others. Venner stood aloof, on the fringe of Hanglip's crowd; Tomlin stood almost by the side of Spotted Dog.

"I will answer. I see among ye men of troubled minds, who are not yet disposed to flout my authority. Thee, Caliban, I have forgiven before; yet here thou art, venturing again to confront me with demands. I will not reply to thee, nor to any one man or party. To ye all, my people, I have my answer. In one hour, in the grove, ye shall hear and be satisfied. That is my answer now. Come Milo."

She walked slowly and steadily straight through the midst of the muttering, grumbling mob, Milo at her back like a gargantuan shadow. And looking neither to one way or the other, meeting eyes that glared in her path with cold, dignified disdain, she proceeded through the camp, across the grove, and to the ledge behind the altar. Savage curses followed her; men jostled at her heels and dared Milo to prevent them; the giant, calm and cold as his mistress, moved forward like a human Juggernaut, laying a resistless hand upon a presuming shoulder here, flinging aside a leering ruffian there.

And as the mob thinned, and Dolores entered the cool glade, something in the situation which she had failed to realize before now struck her with force; she started at the thought, then uttered a low, rippling laugh of satisfaction. For Pascherette, in her cunning scheme of double-dealing, had played into her lady's hands to an extent unhoped for by Dolores.

"Milo, the wolves are ready to tear," she said. "And they shall tear—not me, but themselves! Didst note the three strangers? Even they shall help more than I had hoped." She stepped up behind the altar, and as she waited for Milo's assistance in climbing to the secret entrance to the great chamber she asked:

"Thy blow-pipe, hast forgotten its use."

"As soon forget the use of my fingers, Sultana!" replied the giant, permitting a grim smile to wrinkle his face for an instant.

"Then get thy darts. Have thy pipe ready here, thyself concealed, and watch thy time to strike. But first light the altar fires. The rogues believe in my magic no longer; I shall teach them anew, and such magic as shall convince some of them."

From the camp arose a babel of uproar, men shouting against each other, curses and threats alike aimed broadcast. And impatient of the delay, small groups straggled into the grove to wait, Stumpy's party first, their leader striving fiercely to quiet their noise. Dolores reappeared soon, dressed in her altar robe, and her flashing eyes told her quickly that John Pearse wavered between staying with his chosen party and going in search of his companions. She caught his eye, and smiled brightly at him, beckoning him to her.

He went up to the altar slowly, his face dark and sullen. She waited for him, ignoring the mutterings of the pirates, and as he approached her she gave him her hand.

"My friend, it pleases me to see thee among my faithful ones. Hast made thy decision?"

"Decision! False woman, the decision was made while yet I was with you. The decision was yours, not mine."

"False? Why, good John, what does that mean?" she asked, frank surprise on her face.

"Have you not taken Venner for your man? Is he not your chosen mate, at the price of my life and Tomlin's?"

"Fool!" she cried, fiercely. "Thy dreams have mixed thy brains. What nonsense is this? I told thee thou wert my man, at a price. But thy decision! Time is short. Say quickly what thou wilt do."

"Prove to me that I have heard that which is untrue, and I give you my answer at the hour you demanded it—at noon."

"If thou remain here, the proof shall be shown thee," she replied, dark with passion. Not yet had she quite seen through the cunning of Pascherette. And a growing tumult beyond the trees warned her of greater stress at hand, she had no more time to spare in argument with Pearse. She waved him back, and with fire in her eyes commanded Stumpy to take his men to one side.

"Stand there! Thy rascals will not dare to flout me!"

"We don't want to, lady," growled Stumpy, sullenly. He motioned his men to follow, and took up a position at the right of the altar. But he glared fearlessly at Dolores as he went, and added: "Ye have none more faithful than Stumpy, if thy heart is still with us and for us. But things begin to look plaguey rough, Dolores, since ye spared the white schooner and her owner."

Swiftly Dolores stepped down and glided to Stumpy's side, his men drawing back involuntarily, not in sufficient numbers to be able to cast off their old awe of her.

"Thy ear, good Stumpy," she whispered. "Art for thy fellow pirates, or for me? Speak quickly."

"I'm for you, lady," he replied, shifting awkwardly on his mutilated foot. "For you, but not if what we heard is true."

"I tell thee it was false. Now art for me?" She bent upon him a smile of dazzling beauty, soft-eyed and almost tender, and the pirate's face grew ashamed; he knelt at her feet in humble obeisance, and the girl laid her hand on his head, and bade him rise.

"Then remain faithful, Stumpy, and thou and thy men shall share in my fortunes. Look well to the stranger there. Keep him with thee. I hear the vultures coming."

She returned to the altar, took her place behind the swirling smoke, and stood motionless, awaiting the arrival of the crowd whose noisy progress could be traced step by step. And presently they broke into the grove, unawed and uproarious, Caliban leading. Still the parties kept apart. Hanglip and Spotted Dog ranged themselves on either side of Caliban's gang, and every eye glared redly at the statuesque figure at the altar.

"Answer! Give us yer answer!" cried Caliban.

"Hear, my people!" Dolores cried, raising her arms for silence. "My answer is this. Among ye is a traitor. That traitor has spread lies among ye. Ye are my people, and none other. Did I not save the white ship for ye? What if I preserved her people. They are here, and here they shall remain. Had I thought to desert ye, could I not have gone in the night? Who should say no? Am I not queen of ye all? Then why this childish talk of leaving ye?"

Dolores was carefully fighting for time; she wished to dissect the feeling of the crowd before her, and while she spoke her irrelevant nothings, her keen eyes roved over every face. And Spotted Dog drew and held her gaze as no other did; his face was awork with savage unbelief, his loose lips wreathed and curled in his impatience to speak. At last his fury could not be longer restrained; he sprang to the front, and howled:

"Lies, all lies! Thy chit of a maid—"

The words were choked in his throat with terrible suddenness. Like something unearthly, reaching from the unknown, the hand of death gripped Spotted Dog and he stumbled and fell forward, gnashing his teeth and clawing futilely at his breast. Dolores did not move. Her expression did not change. Milo had again proved faithful.

But others of Spotted Dog's band, the greatest malcontents, stood forward and peered down at their fallen leader; then with a shout of rage they leaped up, faced the altar, and urged their fellows on.

"More infernal witchcraft!" they cried. "Tear the black witch and her altar down!"

A moment of frightful silence followed, for the speakers felt the same mysterious hand that had reached for and grasped their leader. One by one they dropped in their tracks, smitten none knew how or whence; and even Pearse, with Stumpy's band, shivered at the terrible uncanniness of it. Then Caliban shook off his terror, sensed human agency in the silent death, and looked around for the hand that sped it. As he glared, a dart entered his own breast; but this one, ill-sped, failed in its mission. The pirate staggered, his eyes widened, then he seized the protruding dart. For an instant he hesitated; then taking the direction indicated by the slanting missile, he flung an arm toward Stumpy's crew and howled:

"There's the dog! There's the sudden death! Tear 'em up, bullies! Pull Stumpy down!"

In an instant the grove seethed with a terrific conflict, in which Stumpy's party was set upon by three times the number. And John Pearse was carried into the thick of the fight; unwilling or not, his skilled rapier began to take toll of the roaring furies about him. And while the battle raged, and Dolores stood calmly looking on, one of the pirates whose duties had kept him at the anchorage of the schooner appeared with a rush upon the scene and shouted:"Lads, ye're being fooled! The slaves are even now taking the treasure down to the schooner!"