“And, Jose, he shall reach the outer opening alive, and with all his belongings. He has no money. Do you hear?” Jose grunted. “Go, now, under, cover of the noise.” “But the gift for Elena!” Rosa laughed mockingly. “What a child it is! My gift to Elena tonight, is you--her lover. Ask her to thank me with a prayer from her pure heart for my sins.” Jose led the young man through a long, damp, evil-odored passage underground, and out through a trapdoor at the extreme end of the garden. A shrub grew on top of the door, surrounded by a bed of fragrant wild pansies. Jose kicked the staring youth away from the entrance and vanished into the earth looking, in the lantern-light like a malevolent fiend returning to the realm of everlasting fire. * * * * * The balls which were given at the Franklin House on the old Pioneer road were the most pretentious of the year. Feminine loveliness in silks and cameos gathered from every section. General Sutter and his officers sometimes were there, and the Spanish grandees brought to them the lovely, star-eyed beauties of their households. On this night a brilliant assemblage stood about in the ballroom floor ready for a quadrille. Elena Ashley and her betrothed were near the wide entrance doors. “There is Sheriff Paul of Calaveras County,” she told him. “He does not dance. I wonder what brings him here?” The doors opened and Rosa Phillips entered, magnificently jewelled and dressed in a rich silk of pearl grey. Elena stared, clutching at her partner's arm. “Oh, look!” she shrieked, “she is wearing my wedding dress. My wedding dress which was stitched at the shop of Rosenthal the peddler, in Sacramento, and which he was to bring me two weeks ago. I know it is mine! There is the pearl passe-mentre on it that was my mother's. There is none other like it in California!” “So?” answered Rosa cooly, glancing down at the voluminous silken folds of her robe. Then she stood waving her big fan, her large, dark eyes roving across the throng. “Mine Host” came quickly forward. “It is not permitted, senora, that you--” Rosa smiled cynically. “I, the silken hawk, came not to flutter your nest of doves, senor. I came but for a little hour to meet a man who--Ah, he is coming now. Sheriff Paul, I have that to tell you which--” The sheriff offered his arm ceremoniously and they passed out of the ballroom. Tender hearted Elena was conscience stricken. She dropped her lover's arm and darted after them through the big doors. “Oh, I am sorry, I did not mean--please, Sheriff Paul, she may have the dress, poor thing! But for her, I should have had no man to marry on my wedding day next week.” Sheriff Paul turned quickly. Elena, frightened, clapped two little hands over her mouth. Rosa shrugged indifferently, and tipping back her small, black head, listened to the music in the ballroom.