n his laced hat swept the
ground.

"So, senorita, the caged bird can sing?"

"When her jailer wills it so, Don Pedro," I said softly, and smiled--and
sighed--and gave a half-fearful glance over my shoulder; then added, in
a lower whisper: "And when she wills otherwise, I must be silent."

"How, would she even keep a lock upon your lips?"

"Upon my lips--and my eyes also. Indeed, my very brows are under her
jurisdiction, and are oft constrained to frown, against their will!"

"So!" he exclaimed; and I saw a sweet doubt creep over his face. "Must I
place to her account the many frowns you have bestowed on me?"

"_Si, senor_--and add to those some others that would not be coerced."

The fire in his black eyes frightened me not a little as he whispered:

"If that be true, then grant me the rose in your bosom, lady!"

I lifted a trembling hand to the flower, and shot a frightened glance at
the senora's quivering lashes.

"Oh! I dare not!" I murmured, and let my hand fall against the lute upon
my knee. The jangling strings roused the pretended sleeper from her
dreams.

She half rose, and, seizing a pillow from her couch, hurled it at me,
saying angrily: "Here is for such awkwardness!"

The soft missile failed of its proper mark; but found another in the
green parrot, who was dangling, head downward, from his perch; and there
was an angry squawk from the insulted bird.

I threw a timorous glance toward the gateway, motioning the intruder
away. He would have lingered, being to all appearances greatly angered
at the discourteous treatment of my lady warder; but prudence prevailed,
and he fell back out of sight, with a hand upon his heart, protesting
dumbly.

* * * * *

The comedy had just begun. Now it must be played through to the end.

It is a strange thing to see the zest with which my gentle jailer
prepares, each day, an ambush for the unwary foe, and how he always
falls into the trap--to be assailed by me with smiles, and soft
complaints, piteous appeals for sympathy, and shy admissions of my
tender friendship; which are always cut short by some well-contrived
interruption or the sudden appearance of Dona Orosia on the scene.
Though only a week has passed, already Don Pedro would take oath that I
love him well.

Early this morning I heard him underneath my window; and I was right
glad of the chance to smile on him from behind the protecting bars. This
meeting had not been