in the midst of his _vivas_ to greet the Captain.

"You shall know her and fall in love with her like all the rest of the
world--" but his speech was cut short by a fresh burst of applause from
the audience. The floral tributes that had been showered upon her were
hastily removed to one side of the stage and piled high against the
wings. The musicians struck up their accompaniment and the dance began
again.

It was evident that she was a favorite of the audience which perhaps
partially accounted for the remarkable demonstration with which her
performance was received. But be this as it may, Captain Forest felt
that he had never witnessed such a remarkable exhibition of subtle grace
and beauty and extraordinary execution and dash as she displayed in the
dance. He recalled the names of the famous dancers he had known, but
none of them had risen to such heights--succeeded in vitalizing and
inspiring their art with so much poetry and life.

To all appearance she was either Spanish or of Indian extraction, and
yet there was a foreign touch about her that seemed to set her apart
from the women of Santa Fe.

Who was she, this unknown genius, this master of the terpsichorean art,
living in this far away Mexican town? Such talent could not remain in
obscurity for long. Another great Spanish dancer was about to burst
unheralded upon the world. It only remained for her to dance into it--to
captivate and conquer it.

This then, was the surprise Carlos had promised him if he came to the
theater that evening. His curiosity was aroused, and he turned to him
for an explanation, but he was no longer by his side; he had rushed
behind the scenes to felicitate the dancer on her remarkable success.

The air was hot and stifling, and not caring to witness the remaining
numbers on the programme, he took advantage of the intermission that
followed the dance and left the theater.

Outside the air was deliciously cool. The moonlight and myriads of
artificial lights strung across the streets and on the facades of the
houses, together with the flaming torches in front of the many booths,
lent the appearance of day to night as he slowly made his way through
the surging crowds in the direction of Pedro Romero's gambling-hall
where Carlos had agreed to join him after the performance.

Pedro's establishment was the chief and only respectable place of its
kind of which the town could boast. It was the resort of the better
element of Santa Fe,