"Alas, no!" Don Carlos answered. "My home is in the wilds of the Sierra Morena, Miss Rostrevor, and one has few opportunities for playing polo there. But we have good sport, nevertheless. We spend much of our time hunting a notorious brigand known as El Diablo Cojuelo, who plays hide-and-seek with us and defies capture. He kidnaps all the most beautiful of our girls, robs our rich men, and gives most of the proceeds of his robberies to the poor. The rascal even had the audacity to capture me and hold me to ransom. I had no alternative but to pay the price he demanded. Subsequently I led troops into the mountains in search of him, but he had vanished into thin air and has not since been seen. However, his disappearance and the cessation of his activities have enabled me to take a holiday, and I hope to spend some months in England. I fervently trust, Miss Rostrevor, that I shall have the pleasure of meeting you often." "Thank you," said Myra, greatly interested. "I thought brigands were a thing of the past, and what you have told me makes me long to visit Spain. It would be tremendously thrilling to be captured and held to ransom by a Spanish brigand." "Dear lady, if you were captured by El Diablo Cojuelo, all the riches of the Indies would not ransom you," Don Carlos responded, with a smile that showed a double row of gleaming white teeth. "Cojuelo is a connoisseur of feminine beauty, and were he fortunate enough to capture you, I feel certain nothing would induce him to part with you." "There must certainly be the equivalent of a Blarney Stone in Spain," laughed Myra, nodding good-bye and turning away to rejoin her friends. She met Don Carlos de Ruiz again that night at Lady Trencrom's dance, looking handsome and distinguished in full evening kit, with medals and orders in miniature glinting on his left lapel and a jewelled decoration on his breast. He recognised her instantly, and made his way masterfully through the crowd that surrounded her at the first interval. "I shall have the pleasure of the next dance with you, Miss Rostrevor?" he said, and it struck Myra that his words were more by way of being an assertion than a question or a request. "Indeed, senor, and you won't," she retorted in her soft Irish voice. "I'm dancing the next with my fiance, Mr. Tony Standish. Here he is coming now... Tony, my dear, this is Don Carlos de Ruiz, who plays polo like an angel." "Didn't know that angels played polo, but I'm pleased to meet you, Don Carlos," drawled Standish. "Frightful crush, isn't it?" "Miss Rostrevor was going to dance the next number with me, Mr. Standish, but suddenly remembered she had promised to dance with you," said Don Carlos, with smiling sang-froid, as he shook hands. "If you would be so good as to resign your right in my favour--" He paused with a questioning glance at Tony, who looked a trifle bewildered.