“Because—­because if you stay, dear,” she murmured, lowering her eyes, and blushing deeply, “if you stay, dear Salvador will stay too.”

“Dear Salvador!  Dear Salvador!  How—­why—­when?  I—­I beg your pardon, senorita.  I had no idea,” I stammered, utterly confounded by this surprising revelation of her secret and my own stupidity.

“I thought you knew—­that you had guessed.”

“I mean I had no idea that it had gone so far,” I said, recovering my self-possession with a great effort.  “So you and Carmen are betrothed.”

“We love.  But if he goes on this dreadful expedition I am sure my father would not consent, and Salvador says that as he has promised to take part in it he cannot go back on his word.  And I said I would ask you to give it up—­Salvador did not like—­he said it would be such a great disappointment; and I am so glad you have consented.”

“I beg your pardon, senorita, I have not consented.”

“But you said only a minute ago that you would do as I desired, and that my will should be your law.”

“Nay, senorita, I put it merely as a supposition, I said if I did make your wish my law, how then?  Less than ever can I renounce this expedition.”

“Then you were only mocking me!  Cruel, cruel!”

“Less than ever can I renounce this expedition.  But I will do what will perhaps please you as well.  I will release Carmen from his promise.  He has found his fortune; let him stay.  I have mine to make; I must go.”

“O senor, you have made me happy again.  I thank you with all my heart.  We can now speak to my father.  But you are mistaken; it is not the same to me whether you go or stay so long as you release Salvador from his promise.  I would have you stay with us, for I know that he and you are great friends, and that it will pain you to part.”

“It will, indeed.  He is a true man and one of the bravest and most chivalrous I ever knew.  I can never forget that he risked his life to save mine.  To lose so dear a friend will be a great grief, even though my loss be your gain, senorita.”

“No loss, Senor Fortescue.  Instead of one friend you will have two.  Your gain will be as great as mine.”

My answer to these gracious words was to take her proffered hand and press it to my lips.

“Caramba! What is this?  Juanita?  And you, senor, is it the part of a friend?  Do you know?”

“Don’t be jealous, Salvador,” said Juanita, quietly to her lover, who had come on the balcony unperceived.  “Senor Fortescue is a true friend.  He is very good; he releases you from your promise.  And he seemed so sorry and spoke so nobly that the least I could do was to let him kiss my hand.”

“You did right, Juanita.  I was hasty; I cry peccavi and ask your forgiveness.  And you really give up this expedition for my sake, dear friend?  Thanks, a thousand thanks.”

“No; I absolve you from your promise.  But I shall go, all the same.”