a pause, dropping the Don, "are you in
earnest? Can I take this as true? Do not deceive me--in honour do not!
To you--and I truly tell you--I have surrendered all my heart. Say
that I have yours!"

"I have said it, Carmen," he too adopting the familiar language of love.
"Have I not?"

"Sincerely?"

"Look in my eyes for the answer."

She obeys; and drawing closer, tiny gaze into one another's eyes; the
flashes from the blue crossing and commingling with those from the
brown. Neither could mistake the meaning of the glance, for it is the
true light of love, pure as passionate.

Not another word passes between them. The confession, with its dreaded
crisis, is passed; and, with hearts quivering in sweet content, they
turn their thoughts to the future, full of pleasant promise.

Near by are two other hearts, quite as happy as theirs; though after a
scene less sentimental, and a dialogue that, to a stranger overhearing
it, might appear to be in jest. For all, in real earnest, and so
ending--as may be inferred from the young Welshman's final speech, with
the reply of his Andalusian sweetheart:

"Inez, you're the dearest girl I've met in all my cruisings. Now, don't
let us beat about any longer, but take in sail, and bring the ship to an
anchor. Will you be mine, and marry me?"

"I will."

No need to stay longer there--no object in continuing to gaze over the
ocean.

The horses seem instinctively to understand this; and, turning together,
set their heads for home.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

POT VALIANT.

The bright Californian sun is declining towards the crest of the Coast
Range, when two horsemen, coming from the Pacific side, commence
ascending the ridge.

As the sultry hours have passed, and a chill breeze blows from the
outside ocean, they have thrust their heads through the central slits of
their cloaks--these being _mangas_--leaving the circular skirts to droop
down below their knees--while draping back, cavalry fashion, over the
hips of their horses. The colours of these garments--one scarlet, the
other sky-blue--enable us to identify the wearers as Don Francisco de
Lara and Don Faustino Calderon; for in truth it is they, returning from
the _pelea de gallos_ at Punta Pedro.

They have seen Diaz, and arranged everything about the duel. Faustino
has finally determined upon fight. Instigated by his more courageous
confederate, and with further pressing on the part of Diaz--a sort of
Californian