Eleanor watches the flash of those wonderful eyes, there is something unholy, devilish, in their unusual splendour. Her full red lips are drawn in and compressed. She raises her gun, and before Eleanor can cry out the woman has fired! The bullet whizzes past her head, for a moment her heart stops beating, the narrow escape fills her with horror! She fancies the stranger saw her before she pulled the trigger, and let off her gun out of sheer devilment, to show her accuracy. But scarcely has she recovered from the fright when a second report is heard from the bushes close by, and the great charger, on which this reckless sportswoman is seated, falls dead beneath her. She rolls off the saddle, and stands like a fury over the body. "What villain has killed my horse?" she cries aloud, in a deep voice, which even in its anger sounds strangely fascinating, despite the masculine slang. [Illustration: "What villain has killed my horse?"] Eleanor rushes forward. "The unseen hand!" she exclaims, hardly knowing what she says. "How do you mean?" asks the tall woman. "Someone shot from the bushes; didn't you see? First of all you nearly hit me, it was the closest shave I ever had, and immediately your horse fell----" "I'll soon find out who has been making a target of me," muttered the stranger. So saying, she fires recklessly into the bushes, but there is no sound, no cry. Eleanor watches this wild creature curiously. Surely she will apologise for nearly killing her through inexcusable carelessness. But she says no word, only watches the smoke rise, and anathematises the fate that has slain a useful beast. Eleanor forgets her own grievance, and sympathises with the stranger's loss. "It could not have been done intentionally," she declares. "I don't believe in chance; it was a dead aim, depend upon it." Eleanor's eyes expand at this remark. "Who are you?" she asks. "What is your name?" "I am a woman," replies the other, with a mocking smile; "my name is Paulina." She shows no wish to be acquainted with Eleanor's identity. "What will you do without your horse?" "Get another, of course." "But now?" "Walk." "Then you live in these parts? I hope in the future you will be more careful how you shoot at random. It would not have been very pleasant for either of us if you had hit me." "What are you doing walking about by yourself?" Eleanor looks up and laughs. "Not risking other people's lives, at any rate." "I wish I could unravel the mystery of my unknown assailant! Have you any idea who watches your movements and revenges himself on my carelessness?" A new light flashes across Eleanor at these words. This weird adventure becomes more interesting and amazing at Paulina's suggestion. "I don't understand you." "All the better, perhaps." The abrupt answer startles Eleanor, a puzzled look creeps over her face. "Why can't you say what you mean?" she asks hotly, looking at Paulina with sudden dislike and repugnance.