Yet Gerald Huntington, as he looked at her, more than half guessed it. He remembered what they had said to each other last night.
"What manner of man might he be whose admiration would be acceptable to you?" he had asked her, and she had answered, promptly:
"A man quite your opposite in everything."
Looking fixedly at Ronald Valchester, the outlaw beheld the man whom Jaquelina's fancy had painted to her heart before she ever beheld him—the one man, "sans peur et sans reproche," whose admiration would be welcome to her.
"I will leave it to you," he repeated. "Has Miss Meredith used me fairly?"
"I decidedly decline to express an opinion on the subject," replied Ronald Valchester, gravely and coldly.
There was a moment's silence.
"Very well," said the outlaw, with a quiet bow; then he looked again at the fair young face that had caused his downfall.
"Miss Meredith," he said, "you have repaid my kindness to you last night with the basest ingratitude. It was love for your beautiful face that led me here to-night. I have lurked in the shadows for hours watching your happiness, and unselfishly rejoicing in your unclouded joy. But your cruelty has awakened the sleeping tiger in my heart. Henceforth beware the name of Gerald Huntington! I swear to you that sooner or later I will take a terrible revenge for this injury!"
"Do not be frightened at the villain's threat, Miss Meredith," said a gentleman, kindly, as they led the captive away. "He will not have the chance to harm you. They will be sure to send him to the penitentiary for life."