Almost without knowing it, Jaquelina arose and went over to the piano, standing by Violet, who was turning the leaves of the music. He glanced up at her with a slight smile, and she saw that his blue-gray eyes were sparkling with pleasure or excitement--they were glittering starry black. "He has the sweetest tenor voice in the country," Violet whispered to her. "Is it not a perfect treat to hear him sing?" Jaquelina thought so, but she only whispered "Yes," very faintly. She did not wish to lose a note of the perfect strains. At last he rose abruptly. "I have made you all twice thankful," he laughed. "That is my worst fault. When I am induced to play I never know when to stop." No one could be induced to touch the piano after Ronald Valchester had played--his music was too superior to anyone else's. They all went out on the lawn again. Some danced--some wandered under the trees. Among these latter was Jaquelina. She was walking with Walter Earle again, and Violet with Ronald Valchester. It was growing far into the night. Some of the lights had burned low; the moon was about to go down. The trees grew thick where they were walking, and some sudden impulse made Jaquelina shiver and lift her eyes half nervously. As she did so she met the burning gaze of a pair of dark eyes watching her from behind a tree. A scream of surprise and terror. Jaquelina pulled her hand from Walter Earle's arm and rushed forward. The outlaw chief, for it was no other, was turning to fly; but she caught his arm and held it tightly in both her own. "The outlaw! the outlaw!" she panted. "Do not let him escape!" He was surrounded in an instant. He made no attempt to fly, but stood still, gazing around him on the angry faces of the men, and his dark eyes blazed as they rested on the excited face of the fair girl who had betrayed him to his enemies. CHAPTER VIII. One of the men who was holding the captive looked at Jaquelina and said: "Miss Meredith, is this really the man you say he is?" "Yes, he is really the chief of the outlaws," she replied; but her eyes fell as they all looked at her--the swift color came into her cheek. No one thought of doubting her word. They had all heard the story of her adventure in the woods last night, that she had lost her way in the terrible storm, and the outlaw chief had guided her to the road. "Are you quite sure of his identity?" She looked at the dark, handsome face that was regarding her so intently. Every feature was stamped indelibly on her memory. "I am perfectly sure," she replied. "He was unmasked when I saw him at first. I remember his face perfectly." "Are you really Gerald Huntington?" they asked him. "I am called by that name," he responded, almost mechanically, without looking at them. It seemed as if he could not remove his eyes from Jaquelina Meredith's flushed and defiant face.