he head of the stairway, a sudden resolve came to
me. I signed to the others to go on, and addressed our host: "Senor, my
friends will pardon my desertion of them. I desire the favor of a
private talk with you."

The frown which had creased his forehead at my first word vanished at
the last. He had thought I intended to ask for a private interview with
Alisanda.

"At your service, Don Juan," he at once responded.

I drew aside until he had bowed my friends down the stairway and out of
sight. He then turned to me, with a grave smile, and, taking my arm, led
me away from the _sala_ to his private cabinet, a small but elegantly
furnished room in the far corner of the mansion. But I was not
interested in the paintings by Titian, Velasquez, and Murillo which
decorated the rough-plastered walls, and to which he called my attention
with excusable pride.

"Senor," I said, "these pictures are beautiful,--they show the skill of
master artists. But my whole being thrills with the matchless beauty and
grace of a living work of art,--the masterpiece of the Master of
masters, of God Himself!"

"Juan!" he cried, "forgive me! I know now how you love her. Yet it is
impossible. If I dared give way to my personal regard for you, you
should have her. Believe me, I speak only the truth. But my country--for
the sake of its freedom, its welfare, I am resolved to give all--even
her!"

"Even her!" I answered. "Then give her to me! I will fight for your
country,--I will pledge my life in the cause of freedom! What more can
you ask? Your country shall be my country; your cause my cause!"

"No, Juan, it cannot be!" he replied, and his sigh proved that his
regret was real. "You would add strength to our cause, but not what may
be gained elsewhere. There are men in New Spain who, if they joined the
revolution, could singly bring over whole provinces."

"You would give her to another!--as a bribe to win the support of
another!--when you know she loves me?"

"God bear me witness, it is not for myself but for my country. What a
small price to pay--the disappointment of two lovers--in turn for the
freedom and happiness of millions!"

"It is not your heart you would break," I retorted.

"Do you then believe I can look upon her grief and yours without
sorrow?"

"Let another pay the price!"

"There is none other as precious--none other that can win him over. All
turns upon her beauty and charm. He whose aid I am resolved to gain by
the be