Saltash laughed. "A deliverer arrives sometimes," he remarked, "even in the last, most awful moment of all. Have you never said to yourself how seldom the thing we really expect comes to pass?" Sheila's lips parted with a touch of scorn. "Perhaps it is safer not to expect," she said. "Perhaps," agreed Saltash, with his quick grimace. "I learnt that lesson a long time ago. There are so many slips--especially when the cup is full." He added inconsequently, "And even if it gets there, the wine is sour as often as not when you come to drink." "I can quite believe it," said the girl, and looked out once more over the wreathing flowers to the rippling waters of the bay. Her mouth took a firm line, and Saltash, glancing at her, began to laugh. "Do you know, Miss Melrose, it's rather curious, but you remind me of Spentoli too in some ways? I don't know if you and Miss Larpent possess the same characteristics, but I imagine you might develop them, given the same conditions." Sheila stiffened at the words. "I am sure you are quite wrong," she said coldly. "Captain Larpent's daughter is quite obviously a child of impulse. I--am not." "I think you would be impulsive enough to fight the leopard if he came your way," contended Saltash with idle insistence. "Or perhaps you would charm him. I imagine that might be more in your line." Again the girl's lip curled. She said nothing for a moment, then deliberately, for the first time in her life, she snubbed him. "No, I should never try to charm--a beast, Lord Saltash." "You prefer them savage?" countered Saltash. She made a careless gesture with one hand, without replying. She did not even look towards him. "I think Miss Larpent might be quite clever in that respect," she said. "She is--a born charmer." "By Jove!" he said. "What a cruel compliment!" Sheila said nothing. She was watching a small boat rowing steadily towards them through the dark water, with eyes that were grave and fixed. Saltash's look followed hers, and he grimaced to himself, oddly, wryly, as a man who accomplishes a task for which he has no liking. Then in a moment he turned the conversation. "Did you ever meet Rozelle Daubeni, the enchantress?" Sheila's soft eyes came to him at the sudden question. "No. I have heard of her. I have never met her. I don't want to meet her. Why?" He threw her a daring glance. "It would do you good to meet her. She is a born charmer if you like. She charms women as well as men--and beasts." "An adventuress!" said Sheila. "Yes, an adventuress. One of the most wonderful, I should say, who ever lived. She is in Paris just now. When she comes to England--" again his look dared her--"I will take you to see her. It will be--an education for you." "Thank you," Sheila said.