ance, a mass of them assumed the form of the crucifix, throwing a golden trail full upon the Lady of Loreto, proud in her

ltar. In spite of his intrepid spirit, he stood appalled for a moment as he saw the dim radiance enveloping the Lady of Loreto. He scowled over his shoulder at the menacing emblem of redemption and crossed himself. But had it been the finger of God, the

snatched the knife from his belt. A faint creaking echoed through the hollow church. He strained his ears, holding his breath until his chest collapsed with the shock of outrushing air. But the sound was not repeated, and he conclu

vered the strands with his knife. As he finished, and was about to stoop and cut loose the pearls from the hem of the Virgin's gown, he uttered a hoarse cry and stood rigid. A cowled

"Dog! Thou wouldst rob the

is malediction, De la Vega's knife had flashed through the fire of the cross. The priest lea