Now she stood up and faced him, and he saw that she clutched a poniard in her hand. The terror had gone out of her face, and in its place was cool determination. Her lips were set tightly, her bosom heaved with emotion. There was no doubt in the mind of the man that the girl before him would plunge that knife into her heart. He knew the proud breed of the Fernandez. “There is always death, and it will be welcome,” she went on. “Why should I live? Do you think, Rojerio Rocha, you ever could claim me for wife? Do you think I would mate with a renegade murderer whose hands are stained with loyal blood? Can I live, even if I escape you, with the knowledge that men and women know one of my family has done such a thing?” “If such a thing as escape were possible, you could,” he returned, lightly. “Unless you have told them, none here knows I have turned traitor, _señorita_ mine. They have been too busy to watch or question me since they aided me over the wall. And in a few minutes all will be dead, since that is the better way, and dead people do not talk of treason.” A pause. “But escape is not possible.” “Then--this--” She lifted the poniard again. “So you would slay yourself, eh? You are young and beautiful to die, _señorita_. It is a foolish whim.” He did not take his eyes from hers. He knew she would drive the dagger home if he attempted to approach. Before he could reach her side and take the weapon from her, she would thrust it into her breast. He did not doubt it for an instant. He tried to think of a subterfuge to get her close to him, so he could tear the poniard from her hand. If he could make her angry, so she would attack him, it might be possible. “Were this man you call Fly-by-Night here in my stead, _señorita_,” he sneered, “I presume you would drop dagger and rush into his arms. You speak of a stain on the family name--when you have allowed such a man to rescue you, have ridden the miles between rancho and mission in his arms, perhaps----” Her face flamed again, and he laughed scornfully. “Captain Fly-by-Night acted the gentleman and caballero,” she replied hotly. “That is more than you have done, Rojerio Rocha.” “You look upon me with hatred, and upon this fellow with eyes of love, perhaps.” “_Señor!_ It is like you to insult a defenceless girl! Did I have to give love to one of you, most assuredly it would be this man of whom you sneer. For you are as far below him, Rojerio Rocha, as the land is below the sky; and, knowing how low he is considered, that speaks my estimation for you!” “A stain on the family name, eh?” he laughed scornfully. “I put it there, eh? What about you, Señorita Anita? So proud of your good blood and your family honour, so ready to die because they have been besmirched, eh? Hah! If there is stain upon blood and name, perhaps you have placed it there!”