black diamonds.

"Delighted to meet you, senor," said Myra, deciding at first glance he
was one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. "Congratulations
on the win. You played wonderfully."

"I am flattered and honoured, Miss Rostrevor," said Don Carlos, bowing
low over her hand. "Praise from the most beautiful woman in England is
praise indeed!"

He kissed her finger-tips, and Myra was conscious of an unusual thrill
as she involuntarily jerked her hand away.

"Obviously you have the equivalent of a Blarney Stone in Spain, Don
Carlos," she commented with a laugh, looking up into the bold dark eyes
that were regarding her with undisguised admiration. "Do you play much
polo in your own country, senor?"

"Alas, no!" Don Carlos answered. "My home is in the wilds of the
Sierra Morena, Miss Rostrevor, and one has few opportunities for
playing polo there. But we have good sport, nevertheless. We spend
much of our time hunting a notorious brigand known as El Diablo
Cojuelo, who plays hide-and-seek with us and defies capture. He
kidnaps all the most beautiful of our girls, robs our rich men, and
gives most of the proceeds of his robberies to the poor. The rascal
even had the audacity to capture me and hold me to ransom. I had no
alternative but to pay the price he demanded. Subsequently I led
troops into the mountains in search of him, but he had vanished into
thin air and has not since been seen. However, his disappearance and
the cessation of his activities have enabled me to take a holiday, and
I hope to spend some months in England. I fervently trust, Miss
Rostrevor, that I shall have the pleasure of meeting you often."

"Thank you," said Myra, greatly interested. "I thought brigands were a
thing of the past, and what you have told me makes me long to visit
Spain. It would be tremendously thrilling to be captured and held to
ransom by a Spanish brigand."

"Dear lady, if you were captured by El Diablo Cojuelo, all the riches
of the Indies would not ransom you," Don Carlos responded, with a smile
that showed a double row of gleaming white teeth. "Cojuelo is a
connoisseur of feminine beauty, and were he fortunate enough to capture
you, I feel certain nothing would induce him to part with you."

"There must certainly be the equivalent of a Blarney Stone in Spain,"
laughed Myra, nodding good-bye and turning away to rejoin her friends.

She met Don Carlos de Ruiz again that night at Lady Trencrom's