to you. Senor, oh' no."

The old man smiled bitterly.

"_Non?_" he asked.

"Oh, no, Senor!" Mazaro drew his chair closer. "Senor;" he paused,--"eez
a-vary bath-a fore-a you thaughter, eh?"

"W'at?" asked the host, snapping like a tormented dog.

"D-theze talkin' 'bou'," answered the young man; "d-theze coffee-howces
noth a goo' plaze-a fore hore, eh?"

The Irishman and the maiden looked into each other's eyes an instant, as
people will do when listening; but Pauline's immediately fell, and when
Mazaro's words were understood, her blushes became visible even by
moonlight.

"He's r-right!" emphatically whispered Galahad.

She attempted to draw back a step, but found herself against the
shelves. M. D'Hemecourt had not answered. Mazaro spoke again.

"Boat-a you canno' help-a, eh? I know, 'out-a she gettin' marry, eh?"

Pauline trembled. Her father summoned all his force and rose as if to
ask his questioner to leave him; but the handsome Cuban motioned him
down with a gesture that seemed to beg for only a moment more.

"Senor, if a-was one man whath lo-va you' thaughter, all is possiblee to
lo-va."

Pauline, nervously braiding some bits of wire which she had
unconsciously taken from a shelf, glanced up--against her will,--into
the eyes of Galahad. They were looking so steadily down upon her that
with a great leap of the heart for joy she closed her own and half
turned away. But Mazaro had not ceased.

"All is possiblee to lo-va, Senor, you shouth-a let marry hore an' tak'n
'way frone d'these plaze, Senor."

"Manuel Mazaro," said M. D'Hemecourt, again rising, "you 'ave say
enough."

"No, no, Senor; no, no; I want tell-a you--is a-one man--_whath lo-va_
you' thaughter; an' I _knowce_ him!"

Was there no cause for quarrel, after all? Could it be that Mazaro was
about to speak for Galahad? The old man asked in his simplicity:

"Madjor Shaughnessy?"

Mazaro smiled mockingly.

"Mayor Shaughness'," he said; "oh, no; not Mayor Shaughness'!"

Pauline could stay no longer; escape she must, though it be in Manuel
Mazaro's very face. Turning again and looking up into Galahad's face in
a great fright, she opened her lips to speak, but--

"Mayor Shaughness'," continued the Cuban; "_he_ nev'r-a lo-va you'
thaughter."

Galahad was putting the maiden back from the door with his hand.

"Pauline," he said, "it's a lie!"

"An', Senor," pursued the Cuban, "if a was possiblee you' thaughter to
lo-va heem, a-wouth-a