And there were hours when she would try to read hidden books, and look at pictures of the strange fairy world of the Highlands. She could read and write a little: she had gone for a few years to the small Nareda government school, and then been snatched from it by her father. When Spawn and I had finished that noonday meal, I recall that he left me for a moment. He had gone to Jetta. "I am taking that young American to the mine. I will return presently. Stay close, Jetta." "Yes, Father." He left with me. Jetta remained in her room, her thoughts upon the coming night. She trembled at them. She would meet me again, this evening in the moonlit garden.... The sound of a man walking the garden path aroused her from her reverie. Then came a soft ingratiating voice: "Jetta, _chica Mia_!" It was Perona, standing by the pergola preening his effeminate mustache. "Jetta, little love bird, come out and talk to me." Jetta slammed the window slide and sat quiet. "Jetta, it is your Greko." "Well do I know it," she muttered. "Jetta!" He strode down the path and back. "Jetta." His voice began rising into a strident, peevish anger. "Jetta, are you in there? _Chica_, answer me." No answer. "Jetta, _por Dios_--" He fumed, then fell to pleading. "Are you in there? Please, little love bird, answer your Greko. Are you in there?" "Yes." "Come out then. Come to Greko." * * * * * She said sweetly. "My father does not want me to talk to men. You know that is so, Señor Perona." It grounded him. "Why--" "Is it not so?" "Y-yes, but I am not--" "A man?" Little imp! She relished impaling him upon the shafts of her ridicule. Her sport was interrupted by the arrival of Spawn. He had left me at the mine and come directly back home. Jetta heard his heavy tread on the garden path, then his voice: "Ah, Perona." And Perona: "Jetta will not come out and talk to me." The waxen mustached Minister of Nareda's Internal Affairs was like a sulky child. But Spawn was unimpressed. Spawn said: "Well, let her alone. We have more important things to engage us. I have the American occupied at the mine. You heard from De Boer?" "I went last night. All is ready as we planned. But Spawn, this fool of an American, this Grant--" "Hush! Not so loud, Perona!" "I am telling you--!" Perona was excited. His voice rose shrilly, but Spawn checked him. "Shut up: you waste time. Tell me exactly the arrangements with De Boer. _Le grand coup_! now; to-night most important of nights--and you rant of your troubles with a girl!" * * * * *