f his voice. The officer rose, saluted, and left. Andres had
come to the end of his journey! It was incredible. He had not moved
from the spot where Charles had first seen him; he had taken off his
hat, and his dark faultlessly brushed hair held in a smooth gleam the
reflection of a light.

Andres turned with a chivalrous gesture to Pilar, who, ignoring it
completely, watched with inscrutable eyes the passing men. The shawl,
on her, had lost its beauty; it was malevolent, screaming in color;
contrasted with it her face was marble. How, Charles speculated
desperately, was Andres to be killed? And then he saw. A tall young
Spaniard with a jeering countenance, in the uniform of a captain in a
regiment not attached at Havana, stopped squarely, with absolute
impropriety, before Pilar and asked her to dance. Andres Escobar, for
the moment, was too amazed for objection; and, as Pilar was borne
away, he made a gesture of denial that was too late.

He glanced around, as though to see if anyone had observed his
humiliation; and Charles Abbott instinctively drew back into the box.
As he did this he cursed himself with an utter loathing. Every natural
feeling impelled him below, to go blindly to the support of Andres.
There must be some way--a quick shifting of masks and escape through a
side door--to get him safely out of the hands of Spain. This, of
course, would involve, endanger, himself, but he would welcome the
necessity of that acceptance. Gaspar de Vaca had indicated the price
he might well pay for such a course--the end, at the same time, of
himself; not only the death of his body but the ruin of his hopes and
high plans. Nothing, he had told himself a thousand times, should be
allowed to assail them. Indeed, he had discussed just such a
contingency as this with Andres. Theoretically there had been no
question of the propriety of an utter seeming selfishness; the way,
across a restaurant table, had been clear.

* * * * *

In the box the other Americans maintained a steady absorbed commenting
on the whirling color of the danzon. One, finally, attracted by the
manton on Pilar de Lima, called the attention of the others to her
Chinese characteristics. They all leaned forward, engaged by the total
pallor of her immobility above the blazing silk. They exclaimed when
she left the Spanish officer and resumed her place by Andres Escobar's
side. "Isn't that peculiar?" Charles was asked. "You are s