ne was in danger of assassination. Nothing that he had set out to
do was yet done, and some of it he must absolutely accomplish, and that
shortly. How much? That depended upon this girl. If she accepted him, his
course would be simple, and he would be spared the perils of crime.

Meantime, he looked at Clara even more frankly and calmly than she looked
at him. He showed no guilt or remorse in his face, because he felt none in
his heart. It must be understood distinctly that the man was almost as
destitute of a conscience as it is possible for a member of civilized
society to be. He knew what the world called right and wrong; but the mere
opinion of the world had no weight with him; that is, none as against his
own opinion. His rule of life was to do what he wanted to do, providing he
could accomplish it without receiving a damage. You can hardly imagine a
being whose interior existence was more devoid of complexity and of mixed
motives than was Coronado's. Thus he was quite able to contemplate the
possible death of Clara, and still look her calmly in the face and tell
her that he loved her.

The girl returned his gaze tranquilly, because she had no suspicions of
his profound wickedness. By nature confiding and reverential, she trusted
those who professed friendship, and respected those who were her elders,
especially if they belonged in any manner to her own family. Considering
herself under obligations to Coronado, and not guessing that he was
capable of doing her a harm, she was truly grateful to him and wished him
well with all her heart. If her eye now and then dropped under his, it was
because she feared a repetition of his offer of marriage, and hated to
pain him with a refusal.

The commonplaces lasted longer than the man had meant, for he could not
bring himself promptly to take the leap of fate. But at last came the
dance; the chief and his comrades led Thurstane away to look at it; now
was the time to talk of this fateful betrothal.

"Something is passing outside," observed Clara. "Shall we go to see?"

"I am entirely at your command," replied Coronado, with his charming air
of gentle respect. "But if you can give me a few minutes of your time, I
shall be very grateful."

Clara's heart beat violently, and her cheeks and neck flushed with spots
of red, as she sank back upon her seat. She guessed what was coming; she
had been a good deal afraid of it all the time; it was her only cause of
dreading Coronado.