bled upon the shoe, hesitated, the small thing in his hand.
"It seems to be a lady's dancing-shoe. I believe such as might be meeting your servant under a tree by night would not wear a shoe of this kind, Don Roberto. Somebody has lost it in a stroll, and could not find it again in the dark."
"Is it possible?" Don Roberto asked, something more than surprise in his voice, a thing ominous, suspicious." Let us have a look at it over here."
"It is just a little thing of silk and kid," said Don Fernando, temporizing as if undecided what to do.
"Step into the moonlight, Don Fernando—it is half as bright as day. We'll see this pretty shoe, then watch for the mate of it. What a joke it will be to give back her shoe!"
"Oh, Don Roberto, Don Roberto!" his friend protested gently.
"But the shoe—give me the shoe, then, Don Fernando."
"If you will pry into a Jady's misfortune," Don Fernando laughed, passing the shoe to his friend's outstretched hand.
"Permit me," said Henderson, snatching the shoe from Roberto's fingers.
"Impertinent dog!"
Roberto sprank back a step with the malediction thrown in his servant's face, as if to be out of reach of violence that he expected to follow it. The leap carried him into the moonlight, where he stood
