is now as she stood on the balcony. For he of the
Short Knife and Marcos were talking politics--those rough and ready
politics of the valley of the Wolf, which dealt but little in words and
very considerably in deeds of a bloody nature.

She could hear Marcos talking of the near future when he should be in the
saddle again. And her eyes grew gloomy and dark with those velvet depths
that lie in hazel eyes when they are grave. Her kingdom was slipping away
from her.

She was standing thus when the sound of a horse's feet caught her
attention. A horseman was coming up the slope from the village to the
castle of Torre Garda.

She looked at him with eyes that had been trained by Marcos in the
holiday times to see great distances in the mountains. Then she turned
and reentered the sick man's room.

"There is another visitor coming to make inquiry into your welfare--it is
Senor Mon."

And she looked for the gleam that immediately lighted Marcos' dark eyes.

Sarrion was out. He had ridden to a distant hamlet earlier in the day.
The tidings of this journey might well have reached Evasio Mon's ears.
Cousin Peligros was taking the siesta by which she sought to forestall a
possible fatigue later in the day. There are some people who seem to have
the misfortune to be absent on the rare occasions when they are wanted.

"He is not coming into this room," said Juanita, coolly. "I will go down
and see him."

Evasio Mon greeted her with a gay smile.

"I am so glad," he said, "to hear that all goes well with Marcos. We
heard of his accident at Pampeluna. I had a day of leisure so I rode out
to pay my respects."

He glanced at her, but did not specify whether he had come to pay his
respects to her as a bride or to Marcos as an invalid.

"It is a long way to come for a mere politeness," replied Juanita, who
could meet smile with smile if need be. But the eyes before which Evasio
Mon turned aside were grave enough.

"It is not a mere politeness," he answered. "I have known Marcos since he
was a child; and have watched his progress in the world--not always with
a light heart."

"That is kind of you," replied Juanita. "But why watch him if it gives
you pain?"

Mon laughed. He was quick to see a joke and Juanita, he knew, was a gay
soul.

"One cannot help taking an interest in one's friends and is naturally
sorry to see them drifting..."

"Into what...?" asked Juanita turning to the table where a servant had
placed coffee