"I have made a vow. By that I mean to win, or fall. Have you breakfasted, Owen?" "Not yet. I shall order a chop and a cup of chocolate." "You won't join me then?" "Well, under the circumstances, as we are to be mortal enemies, I hardly think it would be wise. I have some of the Arab's feeling about breaking bread or eating salt with an enemy." "I would give something to know who betrayed my little game." "Don't worry about it--my means are such that in order to learn what I wish I am not compelled to make traitors of those you trust." "And the man on the yacht?" "Oh! Darby is all right--you can depend upon it he will enjoy himself to the limit. If you read of a man breaking the bank at Monte Carlo presently, make up your mind it was Darby, and that your noble generosity is mainly responsible for his presence in that notable place." Jerome scowled and muttered something. "Perhaps it is as well you have decided to have your breakfast in another quarter. Somehow you have the knack of bruising me most savagely, and no doubt we should be at each other's throat like a couple of dogs, ere we finished. I wish to tell you distinctly that if you imagine you can frighten me off by such heroics you are chasing a mirage, a _fata morgana_ as the deep sea sailors term it. I am not that kind of a man, and you will find that I sink or swim by my record." Roderic did not care to bandy further words with the Adonis. Deeds must tell the story as to which of them should win in the long run, and Owen preferred such a course. It chanced that M'lle Cleo and her companion entered the room about this time, and joining them Roderic had his chop in merry company. The daughter of ten millions looked fresh and full of life. As he chatted with her across the table Owen was wondering why she had never mated. "It's the confounded dazzle of her money," he decided finally; "she has educated herself to believe no one can ever love _her_, but that the fortune draws them. By Jove! She should hide herself under an _incog._ and thus discover a lover who will worship her for her own dear self. I warrant there are many good fellows who would gladly go through fire and flood for her sake, if they knew her only as a stenographer or schoolmam." Which line of reasoning did Roderic credit. That same fortune had something to do with his own feelings in the matter, as it must with every honorable man. "When do you leave Dublin?" asked his cousin, endeavoring to appear careless. "I shall cross to Liverpool to-morrow and take the White Star steamer for New York--unless something occurs to change my plans." "Then you are compelled to go to New York?" "Only as a means of reaching my ultimate destination." "Which is----" He lowered his voice. "Porto Rico." "But, the danger--that is a Spanish stronghold, and we are at war with Spain."