led as Rosita. The truth flashed across him. "I cannot
blame the brave young man," he murmured to himself, "for falling in love
with his cousin. It has not prevented him from saving my life at the
expense of his love and honour, and as I have no wish for a heart not
wholly mine, I have now to render sacrifice for sacrifice, and to keep
the reputation of France equal to that of Spain." He turned to Rosita
with a smile.

"Mademoiselle," he began, "when we plighted our troth, and I told you
that I loved you devotedly, I was as sincere as I am to-day, only I took
upon myself too much, and have contracted several other engagements,
more or less similar to yours." He gave a forced laugh as he pronounced
these words.

"That is enough, senor," said Don Pedro. "But why have you then come to
Panola to claim her promise?"

"Who said that I was here for that purpose?" asked Dulaurier, abruptly.
Stephano, indeed, recollected that the Frenchman had not said a single
word which implied that he came to claim Rosita's hand. "I implore
Mademoiselle Rosita to pardon me," pursued Dulaurier, "and I propose
that we exchange rings again."

[Illustration: "I PROPOSE THAT WE EXCHANGE RINGS AGAIN."]

It was no sooner said than done. Dulaurier turned and clasped Stephano's
hand again, and now the young man saw with apprehension that Dulaurier's
eyes were dim with tears. Dulaurier could keep up the farce no longer,
and his heart was breaking behind the smile upon his lips.

"Dulaurier!" said the young man, "you weep: you are unhappy! What you
have said has been only a sublime falsehood! You love Rosita--you wish
to marry her--and if you have the generosity to renounce all for me, it
must not be at the expense of your happiness."

"Hush!" said Dulaurier, as he took him aside. "Do not undo my work. But
since you have found it out, you are right. I did come back to claim
Rosita. I have always loved her, and have loved none but her. But do not
breathe a word of this. Let no thought of my unhappiness cast a shadow
on her life. Sacrifice for sacrifice, young man. France is equal to
Spain, and we are quits.

"Farewell, brave Castilians," he cried aloud, "celebrate the marriage
merrily: and let us hope that we shall never meet upon the battlefield
of this unhappy country."

"Farewell!" replied Stephano, huskily.

Dulaurier pressed Don Pedro's and Stephano's hands, kissed that of
Rosita, and joined his comrades outside.

"Wheel to the right--