"Is it then religion that is the insurmountable barrier--the impassable gulf? You have not lived all your life in Spain. I had hoped that not even your faith could close your heart against me, if only I might prove to you the greatness of my love." She sat silent for what seemed an endless time, toying idly with her fan. When at last she spoke, it was again in that light, inconsequential tone: "To the eastward or northeastward of Santa Fe lies a vast snow-clad sierra. My kinsman once saw it from a great distance. He says it is called the _Sangre de Cristo_." "_Sangre de Cristo_--the Blood of Christ!" I said, lost in wonderment. Then a great light flashed upon me. I knelt on one knee and caught to my lips a white hand that did not seek to escape my grasp. "The barrier--the barrier of rock!--Alisanda! you give me hope! If I come to you there--if I cross that barrier? Dearest one!--dearest! can you doubt it? Though I have to find my way alone among the fierce savages of the vast prairies; though I find that snowy range a mountain of ice and fire, I will come to you, Alisanda--my love!" I saw the quick rise of her bosom and the blush that suffused her cheeks with glorious scarlet before she could raise her masking fan. "_Santisima Virgen!_" she murmured, and broke into a little quavering, uncertain laugh. "They speak of the cold blood of your race!" "Alisanda!--Dearest one! Tell me I may come!" She rose quietly, already calm again, and cold as the moonlight which shone full upon her face. I rose with her, still clasping her hand. "Tell me, Alisanda, may I come?" "Why ask me that?" she said, in an even voice. "Could I prevent if you wished to try?" "If I cross the barrier, may I hope?" "There would yet be the gulf." "Gulf or barrier, I swear I will find my way to you, though it be through fire and flood! I will seek you out and win you, though you hide your beauty beneath a nun's veil!" Such was the force of my passion, I again saw her bosom rise to a deep-drawn breath and the edges of her sensitive nostrils quiver. Yet this time she did not blush, and her voice cut with its fine-drawn irony: "Words--words!" "I offer love. I ask nothing in turn but a word or a token--nothing but--my lady's colors." She turned and opened her eyes full to my gaze as she had opened them at our parting in far-off Washington, and I looked down into their depths, vainly seeking to penetrate the darkness. At last it seemed to me I saw a gleam far down in the wells of mystery--a glow, faint yet warm, that seemed to light my way to hope. Suddenly the glow burst into a flame of golden glory--She was swaying toward me, a line of pearls showing between her curving lips. But even as I sought to clasp her in my arms, she eluded me and glided away, vanishing through the farther window.