I'll not stake _my_ head on _your_ whimsies!" The girl had anticipated something much worse than this, so she quietly answered: "You can spare yourself the trouble, I have already returned it to Fatia Negra.

I would not carry it about with me any longer." "You have acted wisely," said the old man, lowering his musket.

"Now you can ride on." The early dawn was breaking as they reached home.

When Anicza entered her room she found hanging up beneath the ikon that gleamed and shone over her bed both the damaged ducat and the little cross which she had given to Fatia Negra two hours before.

He must indeed be in league with the devil--else how could he have got there, invisibly, so long before them?
Anicza said not a word about it to anybody, but she hid both the amulets safely away in her bosom again--and now she was right proud of her Fatia Negra!.