the midst of the glowing embers. “Your Florimell had a spell put upon her, and she did not know you were her knight.” She laughed softly and Chico from his corner turned his head and gave a little whinney. “Oh, yes, Chico,” she went on, “I am glad you appreciate the situation. We were very foolish, but I shall not tell him so. Let him go on the quest, and if he finds Steve then I shall feel that I have a right to be happy without giving my dear Christine a pang by parading a joy which she must be denied. I have faith in my knight and I believe he will be successful. How delighted I shall be to hear of his adventures and to know they were undertaken for my sake. Christine would call me a romantic, silly thing to send him off in this way, so she shall not know, and when he comes back she will be so glad that she will have only praise for my romantic notion. Hark! what is that!” There was a sound of the sharp crackle of sticks under an approaching tread. Was it Neal returning so soon? Hardly, the girl decided. She went to the front of the cabin and peered between the logs. A man was limping towards the door. Alison tiptoed back to her place by the fire, determined to make no response to any summons. Presently there came a knock, then some one with lips close to the door said in a low voice: “Mi madre, soy Carlos.” Alison held her breath not daring to move towards the door, but afraid not to do so. She was spared any decision, however, for a heavy shoulder pushed it open sufficiently for a man to enter. He looked wild and unkempt, and his face was distorted with pain. At sight of the girl he made as if to leave the place, but decided otherwise, for he turned and said imploringly in English, “You will no betray me, señorita?” “Why should I betray you?” said Alison. “Who are you, and why do you come here?” “I am seeing the smoke, and I think my mother is here.” “Your mother? Brigida? Then you are her son.” Alison’s mind was working rapidly. She looked at the man searchingly. Many possibilities arose before her. She perceived that it might be advantageous to detain him. “I will not betray you,” she told the man. “I know your mother; she loves you and I would not make her unhappy.” “You are alone?” The man looked around. “Just at this moment I am, but my friends will be here in a minute. You will have to hide somewhere. Are you hurt?” “I am hurt.” He limped to the bench and sat down in evident pain. Alison viewed him compassionately. “I wish I could do something to relieve you,” she said. “What is the matter?” “I am pursued. I go with much hurry. I fall. I think I break the leg at the foot.” “Oh, dear, that is bad. It should be set at once.” She saw difficulties to be overcome in getting relief for this man. “Perhaps it may be only badly sprained,” she said. “Who was it pursuing you, and why did they do it?”