"Look!" said the "Demon"; "he's there now!" He still whispered, for the night was hot and windows were everywhere open. Through one of these directly opposite Harding distinctly saw Miss Tinsel. She was talking earnestly with some one not in sight. Harding gazed breathlessly and listened. Presently a second figure came between the window and the light within. It was that of a tall, handsome man with dark eyes. He replied to the girl with earnestness equal to her own, but in tones as carefully suppressed. As the eyes of the observers got used to the situation, they descried a bed on the further side of the room. On this Miss Tinsel, after a time, sat down. The man followed and seated himself by her side. A moment or two more, and he took both her hands and clasped them in his own. They still talked, obviously with deep feeling, and at last Miss Tinsel threw her arms around her companion's neck and kissed him. "Enough," hoarsely exclaimed Harding. "Enough--and more than enough!" "You'll wait no longer?" asked the other. "Not an instant. Can't you conceive, man--you who profess yourself to have cared for her--what a hell this is?" "I've been through it before," muttered the "Demon," "and the wound isn't quite so fresh." They descended in silence to the saloon, and there Harding spoke more freely: "See here--you've saved me from a great peril--and although I think I had rather you had shot me outright, you deserve no less gratitude. If you want help--money--for instance----" The "Demon" waved his hand in lofty refusal. "As Claude Melnotte says, sir, I gave you revenge--I did not sell it. There are better men than I in the world, and lots of them. But I try to do as I would be done by--at least in a scrape like this. I wish you good night, and I hope you'll take comfort. After a little it'll seem easier to you. Certainly the ill news should come easier even now than it would afterward. As Othello says, ''Tis better as it is.'" He bowed and passed away. Ascending to the apartment of Miss De Montague, he made himself so agreeable as to be able to borrow from that lady a dozen shining eagles; and, thus provided, descended promptly to Mr. Copperas's bank, where he whiled away the night--assisted by copious drinks and unlimited cigars--at the enlivening game of faro. As for Harding, he went to the bar of the saloon and took what was for him a stiff glass of brandy. Then he turned abruptly on his heel, and without sending his name before him, marched straight up to Miss Tinsel's room. She met him at the door with a glad cry--and then shrank back abashed. "I see," she murmured, in her low, sweet voice, "you don't care to have me repulse you again. You have thought it over--and you agree that it is better not." He came just inside the door, but did not sit, although she motioned him to a chair.