"My sister has roused my deepest interest, Senor Robinson, by the story of your doleful separation from your Dulcinea," she explained. "This letter begs me to do what little I can to console you." "You are most kind, senora," I replied. "But I know of nothing--unless I might ask you to send a message by Dona Dolores to Senorita Alisanda." "Gladly! Have you received no message from her?" I shook my head sadly. She thought a moment, and then pressed me to tell her of my last meeting with Alisanda. The moment I mentioned the cross her face brightened. "Permit me to see the rosary," she said. I drew the bitter-sweet gift from my bosom and handed it over to her. To my surprise, she began to examine the beads with a minute scrutiny, feeling and shaking each in turn as she passed it along the cord. Whatever she had thought to discover, she found nothing. At the last she took up the little crucifix and turned it over in her slender hand. "Ah!" she exclaimed, holding it closer to her sparkling eyes. "Her name is Alisanda Vallois." "Alisanda Vallois," I repeated, wondering at the remark. "A. V.--Alisanda Vallois. You have planned for a meeting in August?" "No, senora. We did not plan. I have heard of no such plan." "_Santa Maria!_ Men are so stupid!" she rejoined. "Look, there is your message: 'A V--AUG'! What ever else can that mean than Alisanda Vallois, in August?" "What?" I cried, half mad with delight. "But where?--what place, senora? Tell me where!" She laughed at my blindness. "Where, senor? You ask that? What did she call this gift--the exact words?" "_La vera cruz!_" Even as the words passed my lips, the truth flashed upon me. I had indeed been stupid--blind!--blind not to have seen those faintly scratched letters on the gold; stupid not to have joined the symbolism of the gift to her words, "_La Vera Cruz_"! I kissed the senora's hand with a fervor which, I trust, did not disturb the peace of mind of Captain Ugarte. Later she undertook to send to the care of Dona Dolores a message which, for the sake of precaution, I restricted to the one line:-- "_La vera cruz_ is my guide and comforter." Despite so joyful a revelation to glorify our stay at San Antonio, I felt no regrets when another week saw us started on to the north and east for Nacogdoches, the most eastward of the Spanish _presidios_ in Texas. The second day beyond that place we crossed the Sabine, and were left by our Spanish escort, being in the neutral zone. On the afternoon of July the first we at last arrived at Natchitoches, only fifteen days short of a full year since we had departed on our long and eventful journey from Belle Fontaine.