"There are others, born in state, who would rather stand beneath the open sky, side by side with a true man, than share the tinsel display of kings," I persisted. "Rousseau is somewhat out of style." "No less is royalty." "The French murdered their king, and God sent them a tyrant." "A tyrant not for France alone. All Europe trembles at the word of the Corsican." "And your country, the glorious free Republic." The bitter words forced past my lips: "My country writhes and bends beneath the insults of the fighting bullies, and clutches eagerly at the price of shame,--the carrying trades of the world." She raised her eyes to mine, grave but no longer scornful. "At last I have found an American!" "There are others beyond the Alleghanies. We of the West are not sold to the shipping trade." "No; you do not take by commerce. You have ever been given to taking by force." "We have conquered the Indian with our rifles, and the wilderness with our axes." "Yet you turned to your East for it to buy you Louisiana, through a conspiracy with that arch-liar the Corsican!" "No conspiracy, senorita! It is well known that Napoleon bought Louisiana from Spain for the sole purpose of extending his empire to the New World. It was the fear of losing New Orleans to England that induced him to sell the Territory to us--that alone." "Yet he had given his pledge to my country not to sell!" "Let your people look to it that he does not sell Spain itself." "Ah, my poor country!" she murmured, and her head sank forward. "I had gathered that your uncle was among those who seek to free Mexico from Spanish rule," I said. "Those whose misrule rests so heavily upon my people in New Spain have little more regard for the welfare of my people in the mother country." Again there was silence between us, this time until the close of the bishop's sermon. As the prelate left the stand, the Irishwoman turned about with an expectant look. "Enough of this mockery!" said the senorita. I stepped down at the word, and had the pleasure of receiving her hand the second time. She made no objection to my escorting her from the hall and to the outer door. In the portico she stopped for the Irishwoman to come up on her other hand. "You have my thanks, senor," she said. I was not prepared to receive my dismissal so soon. "With your kind permission, senorita, I will see you to your door," I ventured, astonished at my own audacity. Whatever her own feeling, she turned without so much as a lift of her black eyebrows, and signed the woman to drop behind again. We descended the marble steps together, and passed down a side street. She walked as she spoke, flowingly, her step the perfect poetry of motion as her voice was the poetry of sound. Her mere presence at my side should have been enough to content me. But my thoughts returned to the dismal news of her intended departure. "You go within the week?" I questioned. "Without regret," she replied.