a to fetch a doctor from there, leaving instructions that should
Marcos recover his reason he should not be permitted to make use of it.

And here in a moment, was Marcos fully in possession of his senses and
making a use of them, which Juanita resented without knowing why.

"I must see my father," he said, stirring the bedclothes, "before I go to
sleep again."

Juanita turned on her heel, but did not approach him or seek to rearrange
the sheets.

"Lie still," she said. "Why do you want to see him? Is it about the war?"

"Yes."

Juanita reflected for a moment.

"Then you had better see him," she said conclusively. "I will go and
fetch him."

She went to the window and passed out on to the balcony. Sarrion had, in
obedience to her wishes, gone to his room. He was now sitting on a long
chair on the balcony, apparently watching the dawn.

"Of what are you thinking as you sit there watching the new light in the
mountains?" she asked gaily.

He looked at her with a softness in the eyes which usually expressed a
tolerant cynicism.

"Of you," he answered. "I heard the murmur of your voices. You need not
tell me that he has recovered consciousness."

"He wants to see you," she said. "I think he was surprised not to see
you--to see only me--when he regained his senses."

There was the faintest suspicion of resentment in her voice.

"But I thought that the apothecary said that he was to be kept absolutely
quiet," said Sarrion, rising.

"So he did. But he is only a man, you know, just like you and Marcos--and
he doesn't understand."

"Oh!" said Sarrion meekly, as he followed her. She led the way into
Marcos' room. She was as fresh and rosy as the morning itself, with the
delicate pink and white of the convent still in her cheeks. It was on
Sarrion's face that the night's work had left its mark.

"Here he is," she said. "He was not asleep. Is it a secret? I suppose it
is--you have so many, you two."

She laughed, and looked from one to the other. But neither answered her.

"Shall I go away, Marcos?" she asked abruptly, turning towards the bed,
as if she knew at all events that from him she would get a plain answer.
And it came, uncompromisingly.

"Yes," he said.

She went to the door with a curt laugh and closed it behind her, with
decision. Sarrion looked after her with a sudden frown. He looked for an
instant as if he were about to suggest that Marcos might have made a
different reply, and then decided