forward movement as if to
thank him by a pressure of the hand. She might have given it but for
the cast upon his features, telling his consent not yet obtained, nor
his speech finished. There is more to come--two other words. They
are--

"Upon conditions!"

They check her bursting gratitude. Conditions! She knows not what they
may be. But she knows the character of Gil Uraga, and can predict they
will be hard.

"Name them!" she demands. "If it be money, I'm ready to give it.
Though my brother's property is taken from him, as we've heard, not so
mine. I have wealth--houses, lands. Take all, but save Valerian's
life."

"You can save it without expending a single _claco_; only by giving a
grace."

"What mean you, senor?"

"To explain my meaning I'll repeat what I've said. Your brother's head
is forfeit. It can be saved by a hand."

"Still I do not understand you. A hand?"

"Yes, your hand."

"How?"

"Grasped in mine--united with it in holy wedlock. That is all I ask."

She starts as if a serpent had stung her, for she now comprehends all.

"All I ask," he continues in a strain of fervid passion, "I who love you
with my whole soul; who have loved you for long hopeless years--aye,
senorita, ever since you were a schoolgirl; myself a rough, wild youth,
the son of a ranchero, who dared only gaze at you from a distance. I am
a peasant no longer, but one who has wealth; upon whom the State has
bestowed power to command; made me worthy to choose a wife from among
the proudest in our land--even to wed with the Dona Adela Miranda, who
beholds him at her feet!"

While speaking he has knelt before her, and remains upon his knees
awaiting her response.

She makes none. She stands as if petrified, deprived of the power of
speech.

Her silence gives him hope.

"Dona Adela," he continues in an appealing tone, as if to strengthen the
chances of an affirmative answer, "I will do everything to make you
happy--everything a husband can. And remember your brother's life! I
am risking my own to save it. I have just spoken to him on the subject.
He does not object; on the contrary, has given consent to you being
mine."

"You say so?" she inquires, with a look of incredulity. "I do not
believe it--will not, without hearing it from his own lips."

While speaking, she springs past the kneeling suppliant, and, before he
can get upon his legs or stretch forth a hand to detain her, she has
glided out of th