The Commander waited until she had finished, and then gently lifted her to a seat by his side. Then he turned to his secretary, who, with a few hurried words in Spanish, answered the mute inquiry of the Commander's eyes. The young girl felt a thrill of disappointment as she saw that her personal appeal had been lost and unintelligible; it was with a slight touch of defiance that was new to her nature that she turned to the secretary who advanced as interpreter. "You are an American?" "Yes," said the girl, curtly, who had taken one of the strange, swift, instinctive dislikes of her sex to the man. "How many years?" "Fifteen." The Commander, almost unconsciously, laid his brown hand on her clustering curls. "Name?" She hesitated and looked at the Commander. "Grace," she said. Then she hesitated; and, with a defiant glance at the secretary, added-- "Grace Ashley!" "Give to me the names of some of your company, Mees Graziashly." Grace hesitated. "Philip Ashley, Gabriel Conroy, Peter Dumphy, Mrs. Jane Dumphy," she said at last. The secretary opened a desk, took out a printed document, unfolded it, and glanced over its contents. Presently he handed it to the Commander with the comment "_Bueno._" The Commander said "_Bueno_" also, and glanced kindly and reassuringly at Grace. "An expedition from the upper Presidio has found traces of a party of Americans in the Sierra," said the secretary monotonously. "There are names like these." "It is the same--it is our party!" said Grace, joyously. "You say so?" said the secretary, cautiously. "Yes," said Grace, defiantly. The secretary glanced at the paper again, and then said, looking at Grace intently-- "There is no name of Mees Graziashly." The hot blood suddenly dyed the cheek of Grace and her eyelids dropped. She raised her eyes imploringly to the Commander. If she could have reached him directly, she would have thrown herself at his feet and confessed her innocent deceit, but she shrank from a confidence that first filtered through the consciousness of the secretary. So she began to fence feebly with the issue. "It is a mistake," she said. "But the name of Philip, my brother, is there?" "The name of Philip Ashley is here," said the secretary, grimly. "And he is alive and safe!" cried Grace, forgetting in her relief and joy her previous shame and mortification. "He is not found," said the secretary. "Not found?" said Grace, with widely opened eyes. "He is not there." "No, of course," said Grace, with a nervous hysterical laugh; "he was with me; but he came back--he returned." "On the 30th of April there is no record of the finding of Philip Ashley." Grace groaned and clasped her hands. In her greater anxiety now, all lesser fears were forgotten. She turned and threw herself before the Commander.