“I have seen you, _señorita_; I have heard your voice and looked into your eyes. And I intend to win you for my wife, else have no wife at all!” “_Señor!_ You dare?” “To speak the truth----?” “I might have known insults would be my pay for speaking to you!” “Is it an insult to have a gentleman say that he loves you above all women he ever has seen, that he loved you when first he saw you, that he hopes one day to call you wife?” “It is an insult coming from such as you, _señor_!” “Ah! I beg your pardon! I had forgotten for the time being my name and station.” “Captain Fly-by-Night would do well to always remember those things, especially in the presence of reputable persons. I forgave you the boast concerning myself, _señor_; but I cannot forgive you this latest insult to my face. Go or remain as you will, your affairs are no concern of mine longer, _señor_. Though you starve on the doorstep of the chapel, I’ll not recognise your presence!” Señora Vallejo had been calling in a soft voice for the past five minutes. Now the girl turned from the caballero and hurried after her _duenna_. Leaning against the curb of the well, he watched her until she had disappeared through a hole in the wall and across the plaza. He laughed softly to himself then, and picked up the water jug, swinging it foolishly at his side, chagrined to think he had not remembered that the water in the well would be ruined for the time being, wondering if Señorita Anita really thought the jug a mere subterfuge of his to follow her and seek conversation. Turning, he looked down into the well. Surface water was seeping through the rocks of the curb, and a few feet below the level of the ground a torrent poured into the hole to splash far below. “Where is that coming from?” the caballero wondered. He walked to the other side of the curb and bent over to look better. Ten feet from the top was the mouth of a small cavern in the side of the well, and from this the water was pouring in a stream half a foot deep and a _vara_ wide. “Persons do not turn a drain into a well,” he observed, watching the downpour. “There is something here that needs to be investigated.” He glanced around. No other person was in the small orchard; none was peering at him over the wall. It was almost dusk. Perhaps the soldier who had followed him from the teepee was watching through a crack in the adobe, but he could not be sure. He picked up the jug and sauntered toward the wall, stopping where a breach had been made, instead of springing over in the usual place. The soldier had turned back, and was standing at one corner of the plaza talking to a fray, and waiting. The caballero ran back to the wall again, looked around quickly, and let himself over the curb. Jutting rocks gave holds for his feet and hands. He lowered himself rapidly, until he was at the mouth of the small cavern.