cting it, gave the young lady a side look, as much as to say,
"Leave the room, Luisita."

She was but too glad to obey. Just then she preferred a turn upon the
piazza; and into this she silently glided, leaving her father alone with
the guest who had so inopportunely intruded.

It is not necessary to repeat what passed between the two men. Their
business was to bring to a conclusion a compact they had already talked
of, though only in general terms. It had reference to the restitution
of Don Ignacio's confiscated estates, with, of course, also the ban of
exile being removed from him. The price of all this, the hand of his
daughter given to Carlos Santander. It was the Creole who proposed
these terms, and insisted upon them, even to the humiliation of himself.
Madly in love with Luisa Valverde, he suspected that on her side there
was no reciprocity of the passion. But he would have her hand if he
could not her heart.

On that night the bargain was not destined to reach a conclusion, their
conference being interrupted by the tread of booted feet, just ascending
the front steps, and crossing the floor of the piazza. This followed by
an exchange of salutations, in which the voice of Luisa Valverde was
heard mingling with that of a man.

Don Ignacio looked more troubled than surprised. He knew who was there.
But when the words spoken outside reached the ears of Carlos Santander,
first, in openly exchanged salutations and then whispers seemingly
secret and confidential, he could no longer keep his seat, but springing
up, exclaimed--

"_Carrai_! It's that dog of an _Irlandes_!"

"Hish!" continued his host. "The Senor Florencio will hear you."

"I wish him to hear me. I repeat the expression, and plainly in his own
native tongue. I call him a cur of an Irishman."

Outside was heard a short, sharp ejaculation, as of a man startled by
some sudden surprise. It was followed by an appealing speech, this in
the softer accents of a woman. Then the casement was drawn abruptly
open, showing two faces outside. One, that of Florence Kearney, set in
an angry frown; the other, Luisa Valverde's, pale and appealing. An
appeal idle and too late, as she herself saw. The air had become
charged with the electricity of deadliest anger, and between the two men
a collision was inevitable.

Without waiting for a word of invitation, Kearney stepped over the
casement sill, and presented himself inside the room. Don Ignacio a