"God bless you!" she cried, bursting into a merry laugh, and I knew that a truce had been declared for the time being at least. "And now let us talk sense. Have you carefully considered the consequences if you are found out, Mr. Smart?" "Found out?" "If you are caught shielding a fugitive from justice. I couldn't go to sleep for hours last night thinking of what might happen to you if--" "Nonsense!" I cried, but for the life of me I couldn't help feeling elated. She _had_ a soul above self, after all! "You see, I am a thief and a robber and a very terrible malefactor, according to the reports Max brings over from the city. The fight for poor little Rosemary is destined to fill columns and columns in the newspapers of the two continents for months to come. You, Mr. Smart, may find yourself in the thick of it. If I were in your place, I should keep out of it." "While I am not overjoyed by the prospect of being dragged into it, Countess, I certainly refuse to back out at this stage of the game. Moreover, you may rest assured that I shall not turn you out." "It occurred to me last night that the safest thing for you to do, Mr. Smart, is to--to get out yourself." I stared. She went on hurriedly: "Can't you go away for a month's visit or--" "Well, upon my soul!" I gasped. "Would you turn me out of my own house? This beats anything I've--" "I was only thinking of your peace of mind and your--your safety," she cried unhappily. "Truly, truly I was." "Well, I prefer to stay here and do what little I can to shield you and Rosemary," said I sullenly. "I'll not say anything horrid again, Mr. Smart," she said quite meekly. (I take this occasion to repeat that I've never seen any one in all my life so pretty as she!) Her moist red lip trembled slightly, like a censured child's. At that instant there came a rapping on the door. I started apprehensively. "It is only Max with the coal," she explained, with obvious relief. "We keep a fire going in the grate all day long. You've no idea how cold it is up here even on the hottest days. Come in!" Max came near to dropping the scuttle when he saw me. He stood as one petrified. "Don't mind Mr. Smart, Max," said she serenely. "He won't bite your head off." The poor clumsy fellow spilled quantities of coal over the hearth when he attempted to replenish the fire at her command, and moved with greater celerity in making his escape from the room than I had ever known him to exercise before. Somehow I began to regain a lost feeling of confidence in myself. The confounded Schmicks, big and little, were afraid of me, after all. "By the way," she said, after we had lighted our cigarettes, "I am nearly out of these." I liked the way she held the match for me, and then flicked it snappily into the centre of a pile of cushions six feet from the fireplace.