stowal of her hand can be won only by the most lovely woman in New
Spain. And he is one whose leadership would at once bring us the support
of all the land, from across the borders of the Viceroyalty to Santa
Fe."

I stood dumb, staring at him in deepening despair.

"Juan, can you not look at the matter through my eyes?" he urged. "The
time is ripe. There are rumors that the Corsican is preparing to clutch
Old Spain out of the feeble grasp of King Ferdinand. It is well known
that the revenues from our mines have already for a long time been
flowing through the Spanish treasury into the coffers of France. Our
people are fast losing faith in Old World rulership. They hate and fear
the French."

"Then let them rebel and win freedom with their blood, as did my people.
A people who would buy liberty by the sale of a helpless girl are worthy
only of utter slavery."

He flushed a dull red beneath his swarthy skin, yet kept his temper well
in hand.

"You do not understand, Juan. Listen. It is now only ten years since the
people of the Viceroyalty rose and proclaimed the Viceroy, Barnardo
Count of Galvez, King of Mexico. In his misguided loyalty, Barnardo
crushed the insurrection with merciless vigor,--for which he was duly
honored and then duly poisoned by his royal master. Had he been wise, he
would to-day be ruling over a freed country of devoted subjects. But
that revolution came to naught; the vast projects of your discredited
statesman Aaron Burr have failed most miserably; and now we lovers of
liberty here are left to do the best we can with our unaided strength."

"And the purchasing power of divine and innocent beauty!" I cried.

"So be it!" he replied, with a hardness of determination which I
realized all my anger and despair could not move a hair's-breadth. Yet
as he went on, his voice quivered with unfeigned commiseration for my
suffering. "Juan!--Juan! If I could sell my soul instead, and thereby
save her for you, I would do it. The thought of her anguish rends my
very heart cords! Yet it cannot be. She alone can win over the second
Galvez who shall free my country."

There was nothing more to be said. Death alone can bend the course of a
good and strong man turned fanatic. Without a word I left the room, half
crazed with rage and black despair. He followed, murmuring words of
sorrowful regret; but to me his heart-felt condolences seemed only the
bitterest of mockeries.

As I descended the stairway, I loo