magined for the wooing of a mate, but neither
moonlight nor the romantic glades of La Bellissima could have awakened
in him a passion so sudden and final. Her face between the black folds
turned whiter and she shrank back against the jagged wall: and when his
eyes flashed again with a wild eager hope she involuntarily crossed
herself. He threw himself against the horse and snatched her down and
kissed her as he had kissed no woman yet, recognizing her once for all.

When he finally held her at arm's length for a moment he laughed
confusedly.

"The Russian bear is no longer a figure of speech," he said. "Forgive
me. I forgot that you are as tender as you are strong."

Her hands were tightly clasped against her breast and the breath was
short in her throat, but she made no protest. Her eyes were radiant,
her mouth was the only color in that gray dawn. In a moment she too
laughed.

"Dios de mi alma! What will they say? A heretic! If Tamalpais fell
into the sea it would not make so great a sensation in this California
of ours where civilized man exists but to drive heathen souls into the
one true church."

"Will it matter to you? Are you strong enough? It will be only a
question of time to win them over, if you are."

She nodded emphatically. "I was born with strength. Now--Dios!--now I
can be stronger than the King of Spain himself, than the Governor, my
parents and all the priests-- You would not become a Catholic?" she
asked abruptly.

He shook his head, although he still smiled at her. "Not even for you."

"No," she said thoughtfully. "I will confess--what matters it?--I
often dreamed that this would come just because I believed it would
not. But why should one control the imagination when it alone can give
us happiness for a little while? I gave it rein, for I thought that
one-half of my life was to be passed in that unreal but by no means
niggardly world. And I thought of everything. To change your religion
would mean the ruin of your career; moreover, it is not a possibility
of your character. Were it I think I should not love you so much. Nor
could I bear to think of any change in you. Only it will be
harder--longer." Then she stretched out her hand, and closed and
opened it slowly. The most obtuse could not have failed to read the
old simile of the steel in the velvet. "I shall win because it is my
nature--and my power--to hold what I grasp."

"But if they persistently refuse--"