r; but her eye wandered from his gold epaulettes
and seemed to search the room for some other object. She was evidently
indifferent to the remarks of her partner, and tired of his company.

Vizcarra's eyes were also in search of some one that did not appear to
be present, for the Comandante strolled to and fro, peering into every
group and corner with a dissatisfied look.

If it was the fair blonde he was looking for, he would be unsuccessful.
She was not there. Rosita and her mother had returned home after the
exhibition of the fireworks. Their house was far down the valley, and
they had gone to it, accompanied by Carlos and the young ranchero.
These, however, had returned to be present at the fandango. It was late
before they made their appearance, the road having detained them. This
was why the eye of Catalina wandered. Unlike Vizcarra, however, she was
not to meet with disappointment.

While the dance was going on two young men entered the saloon, and soon
mingled with the company. One of them was the young ranchero, the other
was Carlos. The latter might easily have been distinguished by the
heron-plume that waved over his black sombrero.

The eye of Catalina was no longer restless. It was now directed upon an
object, though its glances were not fixed, but quick and stolen--stolen,
because of the observation of an angry father and a jealous lover.

Carlos assumed indifference, though his heart was burning. What would
he not have given to have danced with her? But he knew the situation
too well. He knew that the offer of such a thing would lead to a scene.
He dared not propose it.

At times he fancied that she had ceased to regard him--that she even
listened with interest to Roblado--to the beau Echevarria--to others.
This was but Catalina's fine acting. It was meant for other eyes than
those of Carlos, but he knew not that, and became piqued.

He grew restless, and danced. He chose for his partner a very pretty
"aldeana," Inez Gonzales by name, who was delighted to dance with him.
Catalina saw this, and became jealous in turn.

This play continued for a length of time, but Carlos at length grew
tired of his partner, and sat down upon the _banqueta_ alone. His eyes
followed the movements of Catalina. He saw that hers were bent upon him
with glances of love,--love that had been avowed in words,--yes, had
already been plighted upon oath. Why should they suspect each other?

The confidence of