ng finished his game of cards with Gallito and the two women,
who had now left the table and were examining Pearl's _manton de
Manila_, sent his twinkling, darting glance in their direction.
"Caramba!" he cried softly, "but she has the sal Andaluz, she can dance!
I have seen many, but not such another." And then he crossed his arms
and bent his body over them and rocked back and forth in soundless and
apparently inexhaustible mirth in which Gallito finally joined him.

"I don't know what you are laughing at, Jose," he said; "but it is very
funny."

"I laugh that the Devil has chosen you as an instrument, my Francisco,"
he said.

"Because I give you shelter?" asked Gallito, lighting another
cigarette.

"Because the Devil schemes always how he can lure Saint Harry from his
ice peak. He has not succeeded with cards, nor with wine, nor even with
me, for I have tried to tempt him to plan with me those little robberies
which for amusement I dream of, here in these damnable solitudes. But
before he was a saint he had a wild heart, had Harry. You have but to
look at him to know that. Have you forgotten that he has not always
lived in these mountains? Do you not recall that he was middle-weight
champion of Cape Colony, that he was a scout all through the Boer war?
That he also saw service in India and has certain decorations to show
for it? Saint Harry! ha, ha, ha!

"The one thing he could not resist was any kind of a mad adventure, all
the chances against him and all the hounds on top of him, and he pitting
his wits against them and scheming to outwit them. A petticoat could
never hold him. Oh, yes," in answer to Gallito's upraised brows, "there
have been one or two, here and there, but they meant little to him, as
any one might see. But, as you know and I know, Gallito, the Devil often
wins by persistence; he never gives up. So, although Saint Harry's case
is a puzzling one, the Devil is not discouraged. He looks about him and
says, 'My friend, Gallito, my old and tried friend, has a daughter,
beautiful as a flower, graceful as a fountain. I will bring her here and
then Saint Harry will scramble off his ice peak fast enough.'"

"Your foolish wits run away with you," growled Gallito.

"My legs must run away with me now," said Jose, rising and stretching
his arms and yawning. "But tell me first why was your daughter sad when
she first came here?"

"Because she had fallen in love with a damned rascal," said Gallito
bitt