Pascherette whispered at last, when the great black mass of the council hall loomed against the sky in a lightning flash. “Count ten score. Thy safety is in my hands.”

Then she took Sancho by the hand, and led him through the plashing rain to the rear of the hall and called softly: “Milo!”

“Here. Hast found him?”

“Take us to the Sultana quickly, Milo. I have told Sancho to trust in the justice of Dolores.”

“He may well do that,” returned Milo. “The great Sultana is ever just.”

“Yes, have no fear, good Sancho. I am Justice itself!” rejoined the mellow voice of Dolores in person, who had a few moments before left Rupert Venner.