enced; wounded self-love, for with his gold-lace
and fine plumes he believed himself a conqueror at first sight; and upon
the top of all, bitter disappointment.

This last was the greater that he did not see how his suit could be
renewed. To attempt a similar visit would lead to similar chagrin,--
perhaps worse.

It was plain the girl did not care for him, with all his fine feathers
and exalted position. He saw that she was very different from the
others with whom he had had dealings--different from the dark-eyed
doncellas of the valley, most of whom, if not all, would have taken his
onza without a word or a blush!

It was plain to him he could go no more to the rancho. Where, then, was
he to meet her--to see her? He had ascertained that she seldom came to
the town--never to the amusements, except when her brother was at home.
How and where, then, was he to see her? His was a hopeless case--no
opportunity of mending his first _faux pas_--none, any more than if the
object of his pursuit was shut up in the cloisters of a nunnery!
Hopeless, indeed! Thus ran his reflections.

Though uttering this phrase, he had no belief in its reality. He had no
intention of ending the affair so easily. He--the lady-killer,
Vizcarra--to fail in the conquest of a poor ranchera! He had never
failed, and would not now. His vanity alone would have urged him
farther in the affair; but he had a sufficient incentive to his strong
passion,--for strong it had now grown. The opposition it had met--the
very difficulty of the situation--only stimulated him to greater energy
and earnestness.

Besides, jealousy was there, and that was another spur to his excited
pride.

He was jealous of Don Juan. He had noticed the latter on the day of the
fiesta. He had observed him in the company of the cibolero and his
sister. He saw them talking, drinking, feasting together. He was
jealous _then_; but that was light, for then he still anticipated his
own easy and early triumph. That was quiet to the feeling that tortured
him now--now that _he had failed_--now that he had seen in the very hour
of his humiliation that same rival on his road to the rancho--welcome,
no doubt--to be told of all that had happened--to join her in jeering
laughter at his expense--to--Furies! the thought was intolerable.

For all that the Comandante had no idea of relinquishing his design.
There were still means--foul, if not fair--if he could only think of
them. H