e passed before
the sun a cloud. Pancha, whose mind was full of happy thoughts, did
not perceive this cloud.

* * * * *

That day in Monterey one other heart was troubled, but to it came not
peace nor rest. Much to her surprise, Pancha--standing near the
causeway over which Pepe gallantly had ridden forth upon his brave
adventure, her heart full of love and hope and fear--had felt an arm
about her neck, and turning had found Chona by her side. In her tender
mood this mark of affection from the friend whom she had deemed lost
had moved her greatly, and with little urging she told to Chona the
sweet happiness that at last certainly was hers; and wondered to see
the look of hate--there could be no mistaking it now--that came
flashing into Chona's eyes.

"And he loves a pitiful thing like _you_! Loves _you_, when he
might--go! you are no friend of mine!"

In Chona's voice there was a ring of bitter contempt that lost itself,
with the abrupt change, in yet more bitter rage. With an angry push
that almost threw Pancha into the water, she turned, sprang up the
bank, and disappeared among the trees. So was Pancha made yet more
sorrowful, and yet more gladly turned to the holy church for rest and
comfort in prayer.

For Chona there was no comfort. Her brain was in a whirl, and in her
heart was only wretchedness. The fate had come to her that for months
past she had known must be hers; yet now that it actually had
overtaken her, she resented it as though it were a sudden and
unexpected blow. Against hope she had hoped to win Pepe's love--and
now all hope was dead, and she knew that her chance of having him for
her very own was lost forever. Still worse was it that the love which
she longed for so hungrily should go to another. This was more than
she could bear. Pepe's death, she felt, would have caused her a pain
far less poignant--for she herself easily could have died, too. But
Pepe lost to her arms, and won to the arms of such a poor, spiritless
creature as this Pancha, was an insult that made greater the injury
done her a thousand-fold. Her fierce love was turned in a moment to
fiercer hate; and from hate is but a single step to revenge.

That night, when the _lenador_ came home,--and in good spirits, for he
had sold his wood well,--he told Chona gleefully of the grand project
that Pepe had on foot; of the clever scheme by which the customs
people were to be tricked; of the fine fortune