"Rod said you would want it," Driscoll spoke gently. Then he moved away. An Imperialist officer was approaching over the field who would bring the help which Murguia refused to accept of the Republicans. Driscoll looked back once. The Imperialist officer was carrying Murguia into the town. He was a large man, and had red hair. His regimentals were gorgeous. There seemed to be something familiar about him, too. Greatly puzzled, Driscoll unslung his glasses, and through them he recognized Colonel Miguel Lopez. Lopez, the former colonel of Dragoons, now commanded the Imperialist reserve, quartered in the monastery of La Cruz around the person of their sovereign. But Lopez had once condemned Murguia to death. A strange solicitude, thought Driscoll, in such a high and mighty person for a little, insignificant, useless warrior as poor Murgie. A strange, a very strange solicitude, and Driscoll could not get it out of his head. CHAPTER XV OF ALL NEWS THE MOST SPITEFUL "O poor and wretched ones! That, feeble in the mind's eye, lean your trust Upon unstaid perverseness."--_Dante_. Her gestures, her every word, were an effervescence. There was something near hysteria in the bright flashes of her wit. However gay, joyous, cynical, Jacqueline may have seemed to herself, to Berthe, terrified though the girl was, Jacqueline's mood was a sham. "The _frisson_, oh, those few exquisite seconds of emotion, eh Berthe?" she exclaimed. "Pursued by robbers--the chase--the rescue--and the jolting, the jolting that took our breaths! Why, Berthe, what more would you have? Helas, to be over so quickly! And here we are, left alone in our coach, robbers gone, rescuers gone! Berthe, do you know, I believe they compared notes and decided we weren't worth it. But I _should_ have thought," she went on in mock bitterness, "I should indeed, that at least our Fra Diavolo would have been more gallant, even if----" "Even if?" prompted Berthe, then bit her lip. "Even--Oh Berthe, _fi donc_, to catch me so because I was wandering!--even if one could expect no such gallantry from the Chevalier de Missour-_i_. There now, do you tell Tobie to drive on----" "But mademoiselle----" "Say 'Jeanne'," the marchioness commanded, stamping her foot. "My lady," the girl persisted, but added with affectionate earnestness, "and my only friend, I was simply going to say that we are not deserted after all." "But didn't I see him riding away?" "_Him_, yes, but look out of the window. See, he's left six or eight--O--oh----"