d it. Seemingly forgetful of his
cork-leg, and the limp he took such pains to conceal, he jerked himself
out of his chair and hurried after--on a feigned plea of politeness.
Just in time to say to the Countess in a hurried, half-whisper:--

"If the Condesa will return, and prefer her request _alone_, it may meet
with more favour."

The lady passed on, with head held disdainfully, as though she heard but
would not heed. She did hear what he said, and it brought a fresh flush
upon her cheek, with another flash of anger in her eyes. For she could
not mistake his meaning, and knew it was as the serpent whispering into
the ear of Eve.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

A WOMAN'S SCHEME.

"My poor Ruperto is indeed in danger! Now I am sure of it. Ah, even to
his life! And I may be the cause of his losing it."

So spoke the Countess Almonte half in soliloquy, though beside her sat
her friend Luisa Valverde. They were in a carriage on return from their
fruitless visit to the Dictator. It was the Countess' own landau which
had remained waiting for them outside the Palace gates.

The other, absorbed with her own anxieties, might not have noticed what
was said but for its nature. This, being in correspondence with what
was at the moment in her own mind, caught her ear, almost making her
start. For she, too, was thinking of a life endangered, and how much
that danger might be due to herself. It was not poor Ruperto's life,
but poor Florencio's.

"You the cause, Ysabel!" she said, not in surprise, save at the
similarity of their thoughts. "Ah! yes; I think I comprehend you."

"If not, _amiga_, don't ask explanation of it now. It's a hateful
thing, and I dislike to think, much more speak of it. Some other time
I'll tell you all. Now we've work to do--a task that will take all our
energies--all our cunning to accomplish it. However is it to be done?
_Valga me Dios_!"

To her interrogatory she did not expect reply. And the desponding look
of Luisa Valverde showed she had none to give that would be
satisfactory; for she quite understood what was the task spoken of, and
equally comprehended the difficulty of its accomplishment. Perplexed as
the Countess herself, and possibly more despairing, she could but echo
the exclamatory words--

"How indeed! _Valga me Dios_."

For a while they sat without further exchange of speech, both buried in
thought. Not long, however, when the Countess again spoke, saying--

"You'