wrong. She endorsed, with a clasp of his hand and a
smile, his purpose. And she said, almost cheerfully:

"You have not given up all your arms, father. When I first heard of the
edict, I hid in my own room the rifle, the powder and the shot, which
were in your study. Paola has knives in the stable; plenty of them. Get
one from him."

Good news is a very relative thing. This information made the doctor
feel as if all were now easy and possible. The words he said to her,
Antonia never forgot. They sang in her heart like music, and led her on
through many a difficult path. The conversation then turned upon money
matters, and Antonia received the key of his study, and full directions
as to the gold and papers secreted there.

Then Isabel was awakened, and the rifle brought down; and Paola saddled
the fleetest horse in the stable, and after one solemn five minutes with
his daughter, Robert Worth rode away into the midnight darkness, and
into a chaos of public events of which no man living could forecast the
outcome.

Rode away from wife and children and home; leaving behind him the love
and labor of his lifetime--

"The thousand sweet, still joys of such
As hand in hand face earthly life."

For what? For justice, for freedom of thought and action, for the rights
of his manhood, for the brotherhood of race and religion and country.
Antonia and Isabel stood hand in hand at the same lattice from which the
Senora had watched her son away, and in a dim, uncertain manner these
thoughts connected themselves in each mind with the same mournful
inquiry--Is it worth while?

As the beat of the horse's hoofs died away, they turned. The night was
cold but clear, and the sky appeared so high that their eyes throbbed
as they gazed upward at the grand arch, sprinkled with suns and worlds.
Suddenly into the tranquil spaces there was flung a sound of joy and
revelry; and the girls stepped to a lattice at the end of the corridor
and looked out.

The residencia of Don Salvo Valasco was clearly visible from this site.
They saw that it was illuminated throughout. Lovely women, shining with
jewels, and soldiers in scarlet and gold, were chatting through the
graceful movements of the danza, or executing the more brilliant Jota
Aragonesa. The misty beauty of white lace mantillas, the glitter and
color of fans and festival dresses, made a moving picture of great
beauty.

And as they watched it there was a cessation of the