he sat on the second bench-row above the top of the barrier,
matured and fuller of figure but radiant as at their Utreran parting;
there she sat, her gloved hands tightly clenched, her lips trembling, her
great blue eyes pouring into his messages of a love so deep and pure that
it needed all his self-command to keep from leaping the barrier and
falling at his feet.

For a moment he stood transfixed, staggered, almost overcome with
surprise and delight again to see her, thrilled with the joy of her
message, blazing with revolt at the painful consciousness that she was
and must remain another's. His emotions well-nigh stopped the beating of
his heart. And so he stood gazing into Sofia's eyes until,
self-possession recovered, he gravely bowed, turned, and waved his men to
their posts.

Instantly all was action, swift action. Cloaks were tossed to
attendants, each footman received a red cape, the two _picadores_ took
position one on either side of the bull pen gate, the band struck up a
tune, the gate was opened and a great Utreran bull bounded into the
arena, maddened with the pain of a short _banderilla_, with long
streaming ribbons, stuck in his neck as he entered, by an attendant
perched above the gate.

His equal had never been seen in a Mexican bull ring. While typical of
his Utreran brothers, all princes of bovine fighting stock, this
coal-black monster was by the spectators voted their King. Relatively
light of quarters and shallow of flank and barrel, he was unusually high
and humped of withers, broad and deep of chest and heavy of
shoulders--indeed a well-nigh perfect four-legged type of a finely
trained two-legged athlete, with a pair of peculiarly straight-upstanding
horns that were long and almost as sharp as rapiers. Evidently by his
build, he was of a strong strain of East Indian Brahminic blood. For his
great weight, his activity was phenomenal--his leaps like a panther's,
his turns as quick.

Dazed for an instant by the crash of the music and the brilliant banks of
color about him, he stood angrily lashing his tail and pawing up the sand
in clouds--"digging a grave," as Texas cowboys used to call it--his eyes
blazing and head tossing, but only for a moment. Then he charged the
nearest _picador_, literally leaped so high at him that head and cruel
horns crossed above the horse's neck, his own great chest striking the
horse just behind the shoulder with such force that man and mount hit the
groun