"I like him," Lucretia said, as she signalled for the food to be brought in. "He has such ill manners and such a boorish way of expressing himself." Jenkins swallowed in haste as his eyes took in the rest of the company around the table. Never in all his days of police work had he seen such a collection of cutthroats. Yet they, as he, were dressed in finery that was worth a fortune. They saw his stare and answered him with wide grins, which somehow had the power to make his blood run cold. "Aah!" she continued. "They like you, I see. Ah, well. It's company fit for a Borgia." Borgia--Lucretia Borgia--the infamous poisoner--the most hated woman of her time. He turned for another quick look and wondered how a woman with such beauty could.... He shook his head violently. And again she seemed to read his mind. "My beauty is something I had nothing to do with. Perhaps you may come to hate it." * * * * * Suddenly a vast anger filled Jenkins' breast. His nostrils dilated in passion, and when he spoke his voice was hoarse with it: "Look! I don't know what's going on. But whatever it is, I don't like it. Now get this! I'm a cop, and the character sitting alongside of you is my prisoner. And I'm going to take him come hell or high water!" A ripple of laughter began which swelled to a roar as he finished. And the one who laughed the loudest was Lucretia. "Now tell me, my valorous warder," she said in dulcet tones, "how will you do this?" "I don't know," Jenkins answered darkly and somewhat foolishly. "But I'll manage. And another thing," he went on after a few seconds, "what's with this rigmarole you're playing?" "Rigmarole?" Her voice broke into tinkling laughter. "Oh, come now! We don't play games here. I'm really Borgia. So let us sup. Talk will come later." A servant had placed a dish before Jenkins from which the most appetizing odors arose. Saliva formed in his mouth, and his empty belly reminded him he hadn't eaten for a long time. He raised his fork and started to dig in, but the gesture was never completed. For suddenly he became aware that every eye was on him and that every mouth was twisted in a grin, that laughter hung silently on the air ready to explode at the right second. They were but waiting for him to taste the food. Nerveless fingers dropped the fork, and Jenkins' gulp was audible. He knew why the grins and stares. _The food was poisoned!_ Yet the others were eating, loudly, gaspingly, tearing at the food with fingers and jaws, eating as though it was the last meal they were ever to have. "Come, man! Eat!" the woman said between mouthfuls. She, like the rest, held little regard for manners. "I--I'm not hungry," Jenkins said lamely. "Too bad. It's so good!" Lucretia remarked. Her eyes were daring him.