ut you are risking much--perhaps your life."

It all burst forth now.

"I don't care," said Dolores, impetuously, "if I can save--you!"

Ashby made no reply. He took the little hand of Dolores gently and
tenderly, without any resistance on her part, and held it in silence.

CHAPTER XXVII.

HOW MR. ASHBY AND MISS DOLORES GARCIA CARRY ON A VERY INTERESTING
CONVERSATION.

Ashby stood thus, holding the little hand of Dolores, and was
overcome by the strongest emotions. He was in a very trying position.
Her presence filled him with joy, yet she would not allow him to
express that joy. Being bound to another, he was forced by Dolores to
respect that bond. And yet, what must her feelings be toward him,
since she had come here to see him, venturing so far and risking so
much? Who else in the world would do this for him? Would Katie? The
idea was too absurd. Katie was a mere butterfly; but Dolores, with
her intense nature, her passionate self-devotion, was formed out of
that stuff from which the heroine is made. Katie could lose all she
loved best, and still go on smiling and smiling; but Dolores could
lay down her life for her friend. (Such were the sentiments of Ashby
on this occasion, and need not be considered as by any means a fair
estimate of the real character of the young lady in question. Katie
has yet to speak for herself.)

So Ashby felt himself debarred from making any strong demonstration
of feeling either by word or act. He was afraid that Dolores might
resent it. She might even fly from him as mysteriously as she had
come. He was bound, therefore, to set a watch upon himself, and
repress his feelings most strongly. It seemed to him a great
concession on her part that she permitted him even to hold her hand.
This was of itself most sweet, even if he could say nothing of those
thoughts that were swelling within him.

"How did you manage to hide yourself so at Burgos?" he asked, after a
long silence.

"I did not hide," said Dolores. "I went to that house where my
friends were; and on the following morning they took me to a hotel
where they said there was an English family. These were the Russells,
and they consented to let me travel with them as far as I was going.
Your English maiden is very beautiful, senor."

Dolores spoke these last words in a tone full of pathos.

"She is a pink-and-white doll," said Ashby, sharply. "Tell me about
yourself, Dolores. Do you know"--and he bent down low over