happened? You're wounded! Those shots I heard——

Jarvis. I almost stopped one of the bullets.

Princess. Your hand is bleeding.

Jarvis. Please—I don't see how the devil—— (Runs up and puts up shade at window 3, sees there is no way out.) Damn!

Princess. You have evidently shot someone and are making me shield you from justice.

Jarvis. (Coming down) No, not from justice—but from the law.

Princess. I thought they were the same.

Jarvis. No, not always—there would be no justice for me at the hands of the law.

Princess. Well, that is not for me to decide.

Jarvis. But you shall decide—at least you shall listen and if you find me guilty—I'll—well, I'll take that door or, or anything you say.

Princess. Your presumption is indeed ridiculous.

Jarvis. Hardly ridiculous—I am arguing for my life.

Princess. Can any decision be more unjust than mine must be at the point of a pistol?

Jarvis. (Lays pistol on dressing table l. and crosses to r. of Princess.) There is nothing to prevent your calling for help now—after all, it doesn't matter much whether the end comes today or the day after.

Princess. The end? Then why don't you give yourself up?

Jarvis. That would not have been the end. You don't understand, I know, but I'm not flying from Justice. There was in this a case of shoot or be shot. (Sound of running toward door 6.) Listen—they're here now. (Jarvis crosses door 8.)

House Detective. (Knock outside door) Anybody in here? (Knock.) Open the door.

Jarvis. It's up to you to do with me as you like. (Princess points to door l. Jarvis exits.)

Nita. (Off stage door 5) Madame—Madame—(Enters.) What is it? (Running to mistress for protection.) Something dreadful must have happened. (Knock on door repeated.) What shall I do?

Princess. Open it, Nita. (Nita opens door reluctantly.)

House Detective. (In doorway) Are you all right in here?

Nita. (Holding door open) Si—Señor.

Princess. What is it, Nita?

Nita. (Indicating Princess) My mistress, Señor.

House Detective. (Inside of door—removing hat) Excuse me, madame, I'm the house detective. Are you all right in here?

Princess. Yes.

House Detective. We're sorry to bother you, but we're looking for someone and we thought he might have come in here. If you want anything we'll be out here in the hall. Good night!

Nita. (Shuts door and runs to Princess c.) Forgive me, Madame, but I am so frightened. What is it? What is it?

Princess. Control yourself, Nita. Go to bed, child. (Nita goes to door 5.) I won't need you till six o'clock. (Exit Nita.)

Jarvis. (Entering L.C.) Thank you. Would you mind bolting that door again? He might return. (Princess crosses to door and bolts it.) Do you know what a feud is?

Princess. Feud? Spain is the home of feuds.

Jarvis. So is Kentucky. That's where I came from. You're Spanish?

Princess. Yes.

Jarvis. Then you'll understand—those shots you heard, that was the end of a feud. I was called home suddenly by the death of my father—shot in the back—feud—man after man—two families—the Marcums and my own had shot each other down. Then my Dad fell and I was left to fight it out alone.

Princess. Couldn't you?

Jarvis. Couldn't I? God only knows what I've been through since. Those two shots you heard—that was the finish. This morning when I got back to my hotel, there was a message waiting for me. It was signed Jim Marcum, head of the family, and proposed that, as we were out of Kentucky, we meet and end the feud amicably. He asked me to meet him at this hotel in his room—no matter what hour—he would be waiting. He was leaving at six in the morning and wanted it settled. It was a pretty scheme. I knew the man and I saw the trap. I came over here prepared and went directly to his room. It was on this floor. I flung open the door and met Jim Marcum face to face. He was waiting. Without a word he fired. I fired, and he dropped. Now do you understand why the law would not give me justice?

Princess. Did you kill him?

Jarvis. I don't know—I didn't wait.

Princess. What are you going to do?

Jarvis. I don't know. Do you know what it means to fight single-handed against fearful odds—to fight an endless fight alone?

Princess. Yes—yes—I know.

Jarvis. Endless fight—without even a single word of encouragement?

Princess. Yes, I know what it means.

Jarvis. You know? How could you know? How could any woman know?

Princess. Yes, I do know, because I too am fighting against fearful odds.

Jarvis. There is no man to fight for you?

Princess. No man left who dares.

Jarvis. God, if there had only been some woman to fight for in my fight!

Princess. Your mother?

Jarvis. She's gone, too.

Princess. Are you alone?

Jarvis. Alone.

Princess. If you're caught it means your life.

Jarvis. Yes.

Princess. Suppose I decide to help you?

Jarvis. What do you mean?

Princess. You have no fear of death? You are not afraid of ghosts?

Jarvis. No, I'm not afraid of ghosts.

Princess. If you escape from here it will be because I helped you—we might say I saved your life, if what you tell me is true—and if I do it, it will be from a selfish motive entirely—it will be because I have work for you. Do you understand? Work—hard work—dangerous work. It may mean your life in the end.

Jarvis. You are frank, anyway.

Princess. It's a chance—and you have nothing to lose.

Jarvis. And if I agree?

Princess. You