o enter into this spirit of merriment. I forced myself
to smile outwardly and to meet their lively quips and sallies with such
nimbleness of wit as I possessed. But it went no deeper than show on my
part. The longer we sat, the heavier grew my heart. I had no joy of my
food. Even the peaches and the other fruits of the lower river tasted
bitter in my mouth. For with each fresh turn of the conversation I saw
my Alisanda slipping farther away from me, her kindly glance giving
place to the haughty gaze of the Spanish lady of blood, her familiar
address cooling to stately condescension. I was no longer "Juan," but
"doctor" and "senor," and, near the end, "Doctor Robinson."

We had come to the sweetmeats, and I noted with despair that she was on
the point of withdrawing. She had even thrust back her chair to rise,
when, with scant ceremony, a young soldier in uniform entered and
stated that His Excellency, General Wilkinson, desired the immediate
presence of Senor Vallois.

"_Carambo!_" exclaimed Don Pedro, looking regretfully at the sweetmeats.
"He might have chosen a fitter time! It is in my mind to wait."

"Is not your business with him the affair of others no less than your
own?" murmured Alisanda.

"_Santisima Virgen!_ You do well to remind me! Juan, with your
permission--"

"_Adios!_ Good fortune to you!" I cried, as he rose.

Another moment and he and the soldier had left the room. I was alone
with Alisanda. She rose, with a trace of inquietude beneath her calm
hauteur. I moved around the table to join her.

"Spare yourself the trouble," she said, with repellent sharpness. "It is
unkind to take a man of English blood from his wine."

"Senorita," I answered, "since we came in to table, you have told me all
too plainly that you no longer wish to conform to the customs of the
country. I do not wonder. Our voyage as fellow-travellers is at an end.
There is no longer need for such slight service as I was able to
render--"

"Service?" she repeated, with a curl of her scarlet lip.

Though cut to the quick, I could not give over.

"Alisanda," I said, "has it been nothing to you, all these golden days
since we met on the Monongahela?"

She raised her hand to arrange her scarf, letting fall a loose strand of
hair down her cheek.

"_Santisima Virgen!_" she murmured, with fine-drawn irony. "It has ever
been a marvel to me--so chance a meeting."

"Chance, indeed!" I replied. "Chance that the utmost of my effort co