ly, fearing
that the least disturbance of the vine would alarm the senora. When he
had come sufficiently near to make her aim sure, Violante suddenly
thrust aside the curtain, leaned out the window, and brought the barrel
of the weapon in line with Velasco's head.

"What do you want, Basilio?" she asked.

Hearing the musical voice, the Spaniard quickly looked up. Had the
bullet then imprisoned in the weapon been sent crashing through his
vitals, he would have received hardly a greater shock than that which
quivered through his nerves when he saw the black barrel of the pistol,
the small but steady hand which held it aimed at his brain, and the
pale and beautiful face above it. Thus holding the robber at her mercy,
she said firmly to the girl,--

"Alice, there is nothing to fear now. Run as fast as you can to the
west end of the house, about a hundred yards away, and you will find
this man's horse tied there somewhere in the shrubbery. Mount it, and
ride as fast as God will let you. Find my husband, and tell him I have
a robber as prisoner."

The girl, almost fainting, passed out of the room, found the horse, and
galloped away, leaving these two mortal enemies facing each other.

Velasco had heard all this, and he heard the horse clattering up the
road to the range beyond the hills of Gabilan. The picture of a fierce
and angry young Scotchman dashing up to the house and slaying him
without a parley needed no elaboration in his dazed imagination. He
gazed steadily at the senora and she at him; and, while he saw a
strange pity and a sorrow in her glance, he saw also an unyielding
determination. He could not speak, for the knife between his teeth held
his tongue a prisoner. If only he could plead with her and beg for his
life!

"Basilio," she quietly said, seeing that he was preparing to release
one hand by finding a firmer hold for the other, "if you take either of
your hands away from the vine I will shoot you. Keep perfectly still.
If you make the least movement, I will shoot. You have seen me throw
apples in the air and send a bullet through every one with this
pistol."

There was no boastfulness in this, and Velasco knew it to be true.

"I would have given you money, Basilio, if you had asked me for it; but
to come thus with a knife! You would have killed me, Basilio, and I
have never been unkind to you."

If he could only remove the dagger from his mouth! Surely one so kind
and gentle as she would let him