“Frank knows that you know we are engaged. Had I told him of your presumption he would have made trouble for you. I am sure he would have punished you for it. And I don’t wish you and Frank to engage in an encounter—at least, while you are both guests of Mr. Crossgrove on the _Sachem_.” “I am willing that you should tell him, señorita,” declared the Mexican, with a touch of passion. “If you don’t, I may yet tell him myself.” “If you do you will make the mistake of your life—you will surely regret it. Be warned, Portias del Norte. I know Frank Merriwell, and you do not. Keep away from me if you are inclined to forget your place and talk folly. Save your protestations of love for some one else.” “Impossible! impossible!” he breathed. “When I see you my soul pants to speak. I feel a yearning that makes me willing to face any peril. I have dreamed strange dreams since we met, señorita. I have dreamed of my home far away in Mexico, and of you in it as my bride.” “If you speak one word more of this,” said Inza, “I shall leave you, and I shall be gravely offended. I am in earnest, Señor del Norte. It’s the height of folly for you to entertain such thoughts. I do not care in the slightest about you, and never could care.” “You say so; but I know—ah, I know! Were he out of the way it would be different.” “Not a bit different. You interest me, but you are not the sort of man for whom I could bear the slightest touch of love. I wish you to understand this in order that you may put aside your foolish thoughts.” “Never! never!” he whispered. “I can’t put them aside! I refuse to put them aside, even as they refuse to be cast aside. You do not know what change time might bring to your heart. Don’t go, señorita—please don’t! I will say no more. Do you know I can’t help thinking—I can’t help thinking! Even though my lips are silent, my heart shall speak to you. You shall see the undying passion of my soul in my face and in my eyes. You shall hear it in my voice when I talk of common things. And the time may come—the time will come when you will yield to it, even as the branch yields to the caress of the vine that twines about it.” For some time Elsie Bellwood had been watching Inza and her companion, and now Elsie approached them. Del Norte saw her and quickly said in a low tone: “Here comes the girl with the sunny hair and the flower-like eyes. She doesn’t like me.” He laughed softly, and added: “They never like me unless I make love to them. You’re not that way, señorita. You are much different from all the women I have ever met. Yes, I will be silent—never fear. She shall not hear or know—unless you tell her.” “Where is Frank, Inza?” asked Elsie as she came up. “I don’t know,” was the answer. “He strolled away a little while ago.” “Bart has been asking for him.” Elsie came close to her friend and grasped Inza’s hand. “Let’s see if we can find him,” she invited. “Perhaps Señor del Norte will excuse you.”