And then the galloping hoofs of a horse were heard thudding towards the hut, and, hastening to the door, he saw Lucille whipping a lathered horse. Rushing towards her he shouted:— “Will you marry me to-morrow? Will you marry me to-day, Lucille?” and, as she pulled her horse in, he darted back into the room and reappeared twirling a twitching cobra by its tail, and laughing uproariously…. Lucille appeared to be about to faint as he dropped it, seized her in his arms, and said:— _“Darling, I am cured! I have not the slightest fear of snakes. The Sword has saved me. I am a Man again.”_ He told her all as she sat laughing and sobbing for joy and the dying snake lay at their feet. In her heart of hearts Lucille determined that the wedding should take place immediately, so that if this were but a temporary respite, the result of the flash of daring inspired by the Sword, she would have the right to care for him for the rest of his life … She would—— “Look!” she suddenly shrieked, and pointed to where, in the doorway, cutting them off from escape, was the mate of the cobra that lay mangled before them. Had the injured reptile in some way called its mate—or were they regular inhabitants of this deserted hut? It was Lucille’s first experience of cobras and she shuddered to see the second—evidently comprehending, aggressive, vengeful—would it spring from there … and the Sword lay on the bed, out of reach. Dam arose with a laugh, picked up his heavy boot as he did so, and, all in one swift movement, hurled it at the half-coiled swaying creature, with the true aim of the first-class cricketer and trained athlete; then, following his boot with a leap, he snatched at the tail of the coiling, thrashing reptile and “cracked” the snake as a carter cracks a whip—whereafter it dangled limp and dead from his hand! Lucille shrieked, paled, and sprang towards him. “Oh, Dam!” she cried, “how _could_ you!” “Pooh, Kiddy,” he replied. “I’m going to invite the Harley Street cove to have a match at that—and I’m going to give a little exhibition of it on the lawn at Monksmead—to all the good folk who witnessed my disgrace…. What’s a snake after all? It’s _my_ turn now;” and Lucille’s heart was at rest and very thankful. This was not a temporary “cure”. Oh, thank God for her inspiration anent the Sword … Thank God, thank God!… SEVEN YEARS AFTER.