course!

"Colonel Miranda!" exclaims Hamersley, starting up on his couch. He has
already dismissed all suspicious fears of Don Prospero; and now he no
longer dreads Valerian.

"Colonel Miranda, is it you?"

"It is, _mio amigo_, myself, as you see. And I need not tell you how
glad I am to meet you again. So unexpected in this queer quarter, where
I little hoped to have the pleasure of entertaining an old friend. Our
worthy doctor here informs us you will soon get strong again, and become
more of a tax on my hospitality than you have yet been. No doubt, after
your illness, you'll have the appetite of an ostrich. Well, in one way,
that will be fortunate, since we are living, as you may see, in a
somewhat Homeric fashion. _Carrambo_! you will be deeming my manners
quite as rude as the roughest of Homer's heroes. I am forgetting to
introduce you to one of whom you've heard me speak. Though it don't so
much signify, since the lady has made your acquaintance already. Permit
me to present my dear Adela."

It is the beautiful huntress who steps forward to be introduced, now
looking more beautiful than ever.

To Hamersley all is explained by her presence. He remembers the
portrait upon the wall, which accounts for his fancy of having seen her
face before.

He sees it now; his wonder giving way to an intense, ardent admiration.

Soon, the young lady retiring, his curiosity comes back, and he asks his
host for an explanation. How came Colonel Miranda there, and why? By
what sinister combination of circumstances has the military commandant
of Albuquerque made his home in the midst of a howling wilderness, for
such is the Llano Estacado?

Despite the smiling oasis immediately surrounding it, it cannot have
been choice. No. Chance, or rather mischance, must have led to this
change in the affairs of his New Mexican acquaintance. More than an
acquaintance--a friend who stood by him in the hour of danger, first
courageously protecting, then nobly volunteering to act as his second in
a duel; afterwards taking him on to his home and showing him
hospitality, kind as was ever extended to a stranger in a strange land.

No wonder Frank Hamersley holds him dear. Dearer now, after seeing his
sister _in propria persona_--she whose portrait had so much impressed
his fancy--the impression now deepened by the thought that to her he has
been indebted for his life.

Naturally enough, the young Kentuckian is desirous of kno