He reflected, however, that Alva's men were to attack the gringo soldiers by way of the ford, and that the ford lay to the right yonder, far out of connection with the captain's house. He was glad--glad that Alva's men would not come that way! Suddenly he spied the señorita herself. She was standing on the steps of her father's home. Riego's heart bounded within him at sight of her. He pulled down his hat and hoped to pass unrecognized, but the sweet, familiar voice called: "Riego!" He did not answer. Then she ran down the steps to him, and put her gentle hands upon him, turning him to her against his will. "What is the matter, Riego?" she asked. No answer. "You didn't come to class this afternoon." No answer. "I'm sorry," she said, after a moment of silence in which she looked searchingly into his face, "because we had an interesting lesson to-day. It was all about what one ought to do in case one should be forced to _choose between_ the old land and the new." The boy gave a swift, upward glance at her, then dropped his eyes to the ground again. Miss Arden continued, and her voice was very serious now: "And we decided, Riego, that one ought to think out carefully which country was really the better, and be true to that, because there is a higher duty than that to party or country, and that is--to the principles of justice and freedom." Riego's head sank lower. The Beautiful One took one of his brown hands into her own. "And we said"--was she looking into the dark heart of him?--"that whichever way one chose, one should choose _openly_. Now this little brown hand could never----" But the little brown hand was snatched away, and with a great sob the child fled into the woods. When at last that night Riego did fall asleep he dreamed that his beautiful America came to him with her white arms held out in appeal, and that he slipped a dagger out of his bosom and stabbed her to the heart. He started, awake, and sat up. It was black dark. _Had Alva struck already? Or was there yet time?_ Ten feet away was Pascual's cot--he must not wake Pascual! As still as death he slipped out of his bed, pulled on his overalls that he had hung near, and crept out into the moonless night. Riego could not think--it was all so desperate! He could only respond to the heart that was in him, and creep forward through the dark. But his feet knew the road that he took, though his brain was reeling. He was going straight to the one who had wakened the new loyalty in him--his beautiful America! "I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it stands," went surging through him as he struggled on. Riego was not grandly heroic; he was only a frightened little boy, but determined now to do his loyal best for the country that had sheltered him from oppression. And so, though the treacherous sands might seek to drag him down, though the dark chaparral yonder might hide--any fearsome thing!--Riego went forward.