art
as though in pain. For some time he remained motionless as a statue,
lost in thought with his eyes fixed on the ground. Suddenly he raised
his head with a quick jerk. His face no longer wore an expression of
pain and anguish, but one of settled, calm determination.

"I have come just in time," he said quietly. He smiled, and drawing
forth his cigarette-case once more, he opened it and lit a fresh
cigarette.

XII

Dona Fernandez could not sleep. All night long she tossed on her bed,
repeating her conversation with Don Felipe and revolving what course to
pursue. She instinctively felt that a great tragedy of some kind was
imminent. Unless some plan of concerted action were immediately adopted,
nothing could prevent it.

She knew her people too well. A reckless, hot-blooded man like Don
Felipe in his present mood could not be trusted for long, but must
sooner or later provoke a quarrel with Captain Forest, who she knew,
would be equally dangerous if aroused. Since her conversation with
Felipe she had noted the attitude of Blanch toward the Captain and her
woman's instinct had half guessed the truth. But beautiful and
irresistible though Blanch appeared, there was Chiquita, more beautiful
and attractive than when Felipe had last seen her, and also quite as
dangerous.

She knew that Felipe's passion was hopeless--that Chiquita would not
hesitate to show her dislike and contempt for him anew--that should
Captain Forest be attracted to her also, she would act like a fire-brand
between the two men. If only one of them might be persuaded to leave the
place, the clash which must inevitably occur, might be averted for a
time at least, but this was clearly impossible. There was only one
thing to be done for the present--advise Chiquita of Felipe's return and
warn her of the danger that threatened them all if she provoked him
unnecessarily.

Hopeless though this plan seemed, Chiquita might for the Captain's sake,
if she really cared for him, act more discreetly than was her wont. But
what could be expected from a woman in love? Who could tell how she
would act? Besides, she argued, all men are fools. They seem to be born
only to become the playthings of women, the majority of whom are
invariably deceived by them in the end.

How she hated her! To think of Don Felipe running after her, eating out
his heart, throwing away his young life for one like her! A love like
his going begging! Merciful God! was there no j