“Most beautiful _señorita_, I am going out with this Señor Lopez to meet the men of the mission,” he said. “’Twill be lonesome, nevertheless, until I am again with you. This evening, _señorita_, we shall take a walk in the orchard, with your _duenna_ dodging about our heels, and at such a time a man may talk of things other than business.” He lurched forward as if to kiss her again, but she avoided him and stepped back to bow. “_Señor_,” she said, “I dislike to mar your welcome, yet there is a thing that should receive attention at once.” “And that----?” he questioned. “Has not Señor Lopez told you of Captain Fly-by-Night and his boast? The man is here, has been here for several days, though he is treated as a nothing.” “Captain Fly-by-Night? Here?” “He has received a teepee and supplies from gentiles, and is camped down by the creek. His presence is an insult to me, _señor_, but we had decided to do nothing about the matter until your arrival. In the orchard last evening he was even bold enough to speak to me, and his words were words of--love. Shall this be allowed to pass?” “He is camped down by the creek, eh?” “He is, _señor_,” Lopez put in. “Captain Fly-by-Night, you said?” “It is the name he is called.” “What would you have me do?” Anita’s face flamed again. “If it is necessary to tell you that, _señor_, then I am disappointed in you,” she said. “Rojerio Rocha should know how to protect the woman he is expected to make his wife.” “I shall interview the _señor_ immediately. The boast he made is known to me.” “Allow me to accompany you, _señor_,” Lopez said. “Thank you, but this is my private business. I’ll take my Indian servant, and go at once!” He spoke as a caballero should speak, and the girl’s eyes grew brighter; and while the look in his face was not one of fear, yet it was scarcely one of determination, and that puzzled her a bit. He seemed to throw off the effects of the heavy wine with a shrug of his shoulders as he walked to the door. Señor Lopez followed him out and called for the neophyte, and went with them to the end of the adobe wall. There they spoke for a moment, and then the guest hurried down the slope toward the teepee, the Indian at his heels. His hand was on the hilt of his sword, his head held high, his shoulders thrown back. Anita and Señora Vallejo watched from the window. The soldiers had returned to the post beside the creek, and the caballero watching them from the door of his teepee, saw them get up and glance toward the plaza. His own attention thus being attracted in that direction, he observed the advance of the latest new-comer to the mission. He remained sitting on the skin before the doorway polishing the silver on his saddle, and did not look up as the other approached. Steps stopped beside him, there was a chuckle, then a voice: “By all the good saints! It is Claudio!”