ng.

We had met for the last time. Would to God that it had been for the
last time! Man proposes, but God disposes.

V

A few days later business affairs brought me to the town wherein
resided my friend Judge Zarco. I found him as lonely and as sad as at
the time of my last visit. He had been able to find out nothing about
Blanca, but he could not forget her for a moment. Unquestionably this
woman was his fate; his heaven or his hell, as the unfortunate man was
accustomed to saying.

We were soon to learn that his judicial superstition was to be fully
justified.

The evening of the day of my arrival we were seated in his office,
reading the last reports of the police, who had been vainly attempting
to trace Gabriela, when an officer entered and handed the judge a note
which read as follows:

"In the Hotel of the Lion there is a lady who wishes to speak to Judge
Zarco."

"Who brought this?" asked the judge.

"A servant."

"Who sent him?"

"He gave no name."

The judge looked thoughtfully at the smoke of his cigar for a few
moments, and then said: "A woman! To see me? I don't know why, but this
thing frightens me. What do you think of it, Philip?"

"That it is your duty as a judge to answer the call, of course. Perhaps
she may be able to give you some information in regard to Gabriela."

"You are right," answered Zarco, rising. He put a revolver in his
pocket, threw his cloak over his shoulders and went out.

Two hours later he returned.

I saw at once by his face that some great happiness must have come to
him. He put his arms about me and embraced me convulsively, exclaiming:
"Oh, dear friend, if you only knew, if you only knew!"

"But I don't know anything," I answered. "What on earth has happened to
you?"

"I'm simply the happiest man in the world!"

"But what is it?"

"The note that called me to the hotel was from _her_."

"But from whom? From Gabriela Zahara?"

"Oh, stop such nonsense! Who is thinking of those things now? It was
she, I tell you, the other one!"

"In the name of heaven, be calm and tell me whom you are talking
about."

"Who could it be but Blanca, my love, my life?"

"Blanca?" I answered with astonishment. "But the woman deceived you."

"Oh, no; that was all a foolish mistake on my part."

"Explain yourself."

"Listen: Blanca adores me!"

"Oh, you think she does? Well, go on."

"When Blanca and I separated on the fifteenth of April, it was
understood th