She danced lightly away, her hand beckoning, her black eyes aglow with aroused interest. Reluctantly the puzzled American slowly followed, dipping down into the black labyrinth leading beneath the stage. Amid silence and darkness Mercedes grasped her arm firmly, leading unhesitatingly forward. Standing within the glare of light streaming through the partially open door. Miss Norvell drew a sudden breath of relief. The chairs and benches, piled high along the side of the great room, left a secluded passageway running close against the wall. Along this the two young women moved silently, catching merely occasional glimpses of the wild revelry upon the other side of that rude barrier, unseen themselves until within twenty feet of the street door. There Miss Norvell hesitated her anxious eyes searching the mixed crowd of dancers now for the first time fully revealed. Even as she gazed upon the riot, shocked into silence at the inexpressible profligacy displayed, and ashamed of her presence in the midst of it, a merry peal of laughter burst through the parted lips of the Mexican dancer. "_Dios de Dios_, but I had all forgot dis vas your night for de dance, senor. But you no so easy forget Mercedes, hey?" He stood directly before them, plainly embarrassed, gripping his disreputable hat in both hands like a great bashful boy, his face reddening under her smiling eyes, his voice appearing to catch within his throat. Mercedes laughed again, patting his broad shoulder with her white hand as though she petted a great, good-natured dog. Then her sparkling black eyes caught sight of something unexpected beyond, and, in an instant, grew hard with purpose. "Holy Mother! but eet 's true he ees here, senorita--see yonder by de second vindow," she whispered fiercely. "Maybe it vas so he tink to get you once more, but he not looked dis vay yet. _Bueno_! I make him dance vis me. Dis man Stutter Brown, an' he go vis you to de hotel; ees eet not so, _amigo_?" "I-I have no t-t-time," he stuttered, totally confused. "Y-you see, I 'm in a h-hell of a h-h-hurry." "Pah; eet vill not take five minute, an' I be here ven you come back. Si, senor, I vait for you for de dance, sure." She turned eagerly to Miss Norvell. "You go vis him, senorita; he ver' good man, I, Mercedes, know." The American looked at them both, her eyes slightly smiling in understanding. "Yes," she assented quietly, "I believe he is." CHAPTER XI HALF-CONFIDENCES