'Well,' said he, 'wasn't that why you went for the salts?' 'To be sure,' says she. ''Twas an order to go for the salts.' She pushed open the door. My lady was still fingering the box. The maid paid no attention to the box, but she looked at my lady's mask; from the mask she looked towards Kelly with a shrug of the shoulders, which said 'Zany' as plain as writing. Kelly had no thoughts to spare for the maid. 'Madam,' he said, 'here is your maid, to whose attentions I may leave you.' He advanced, made a bow, took up his hat, held out his hand for his snuff-box. 'But I cannot let you go,' she answered, 'without I thank you'--all the time she was running her fingers here and there for the spring. Kelly noticed, too, with some anxiety, that while he had gone to the door she had made use of the occasion to strip off her glove--'and thank you fitly, as I should have done ere this. But the trouble I was in has made me backward.' 'Nay, madam,' said Kelly impatiently, and taking a step nearer, 'there is no need for thanks. No man could have done less.' Her ladyship's fingers travelled faster in their vain attempt. 'But you risked your life!' said she in admiration. 'It is worth very little,' said he with a touch of disdain; 'and, madam, I keep you from your bed.' The maid turned her eyes up to the ceiling, and then Madam by chance pressed on a diamond which loosed a hidden spring; the glass in the snuff-box flew down and showed a painting of the Chevalier in miniature. 'Oh!' cried my lady with a start in which, perhaps, there was a trace of affectation. Then she turned to the maid and bade her bring some wine and glasses. She spoke quickly, now forgetting for the moment to disguise her voice. Mr. Kelly recognized it with absolute certainty. The voice was Smilinda's. The maid went out of the door. Kelly looked at the lady, and seeing that she was seemingly engrossed in the contemplation of the little picture, stole after the maid. 'Betty!' he called in a whisper. 'Sir? 'she asked, coming to a stop. He took a crown from his pocket, spun it in the air, and caught it. 'The Margout,' said he, 'will doubtless be more difficult to discover than the salts,' he suggested. 'It might indeed be necessary to go down to the cellar,' she replied readily. 'And that would take time,' said Kelly, handing her the crown. 'It would take an entire crown's worth,' said the maid, pocketing the coin. Kelly slipped back into the room. The lady seemed not to have noticed Mr. Kelly's absence, so fondly did she study the portrait; but none the less, no sooner had he closed the door than she cried out, not by any means to him but in a sort of ecstasy, '_Le Roi!_' Then she hid the snuff-box suddenly and glanced with a shudder round the room. The panic was altogether misplaced, since there could be no other person in the room except the owner of the box, who, if her ladyship was guilty for admiring, was ten thousand times more so for possessing it.