Pearse would have answered her with more questioning, but she laughed at him, and bade Milo shut him out. So the great rock fell, and Pearse wandered into the camp, not knowing where he went, and caring little. He had no place to sleep, so far as he knew; yet he felt no wonder. He walked through the sleeping-camp, across the grove, and into the forest, his brain on fire and seething with the problem before him.

“The treasure, with or without the woman!” he muttered, clenching his hands savagely. “The treasure! Ye gods! There must be the wealth of Monte Cristo there!” He broke off into a harsh laugh at thought of his challenge with the torch. “The witch!” he chuckled. “She was clever, but John Pearse overreached her. Now I know her heart. But — ”