Oh, I wish I hadn't
come!"

Myra was tired, yet she was reluctant to undress and go to bed, flung
herself down in a chair by the fire, and lit a cigarette. Presently
the room seemed to her oppressively hot and she rose and opened the
casement. As she did so she saw lights moving about in the dark
courtyard below, and again she felt unreasoningly apprehensive until
common sense told her the lights were probably lanterns carried by
outdoor servants attending to their duties.

At last she heard a clock in one of the corridors strike twelve, and as
the last stroke died away a mellow voice, which she recognised as that
of Don Carlos, rang out in song in the courtyard beneath her window.
He sang in Spanish, accompanying himself on a guitar, and although Myra
could understand but few of the words she knew he was singing a
passionate love song, serenading her, and she was conscious of a heart
thrill.

She rose and moved involuntarily towards the open window, where she
stood listening, the prey of mingled emotions. It did not occur to her
for some minutes that her figure would be silhouetted against the
light, and when the thought did flash across her mind she moved back
quickly and switched off the lights, but crept back again to the
casement to listen again to the thrilling song until the last notes
died away.

"Adios, mia cara!" said the voice below, and there was silence.

Strangely stirred, Myra undressed in the dark and crept into bed, but,
tired though she was, it was a long time before she could compose
herself to sleep.

"Am I falling in love with him?" she asked herself, and did not answer
her own question.

She was inclined to laugh at herself next morning, and to chide herself
for being sentimental, and the opportunity to administer another
reproof speedily presented itself.

"Did you hear someone singing a serenade in the courtyard last night,
Myra, after we went to bed?" one of the guests inquired in Don Carlos's
hearing.

"Yes, I thought of throwing him a few coppers in the hope he would stop
and let me get to sleep," drawled Myra, and had the satisfaction of
seeing Don Carlos's lips tighten and his black brows draw together in a
frown.

"If you are prepared to run the risk of being waylaid by El Diablo
Cojuelo, I suggest that you go riding and allow me to show you the
neighbourhood," Don Carlos said. "I have half a dozen good horses in
my stables."

Myra, Tony, and several others who were kee