Julio had met the rush of many a maddened bull in the arena, and could himself do a little of that same when the occasion arose. He was naturally a trifle confused by the unexpected move on Roderic's part, and this delay, short though it was, gave the other a chance to pull himself together, to put the girl out of his mind altogether and face Julio. The latter was trembling with fury, and thus far weakened his cause just when he needed all coolness and a clear vision. He rattled out a shower of expletives, each one of which was as hot as a live coal; but even this did not appear to annihilate his enemy. Julio had not been entirely idle while thus giving vent to his spleen--the glint of steel in his hand told Owen that he had snatched out a ready dagger, possibly concealed in his voluminous scarlet sash, and was ready to sheathe it in the bosom of the unknown who had thrown down the gauntlet. Roderic saw the point, and had already gone him one better, since he held a blade more than a match for Julio's dagger, and moreover, knew how to handle it like a juggler of India. "Senor, it was a mistake--I am ready to make ample apologies or fight--just as you decide," he said in Spanish. The wolf would not be appeased by this sop. He demanded blood. It had been too grievous an insult to be forgiven, and besides, what business has any self-respecting Spaniard to forgive anyhow? So Julio set out for war. When any man on earth seeks a disturbance, and selects an American citizen for the object of his assault, he usually gets all he desires, and very frequently good measure, pressed down and running over. So Julio, the pet dancer and one time idol of the San Juan bull ring, brushing his female companion aside almost rudely, flung himself upon the stranger with the ferocity of a panther, doubtless resolved to make him pay for his audacity with his life. CHAPTER XIX. BY WAY OF THE BALCONY. Julio had doubtless made other calculations during his life, only to find them turn out Dead Sea fruit. In this case his confidence was on a par with the natural ferocity of his disposition, but as frequently happens, he overshot the mark. Roderic met his assault and went him one better--he turned the Spaniard's eager blade aside with the quick movement of one to the manner born. No doubt Julio was surprised, but he never let anything interfere with business. A second rush, another rebuff. This was growing monotonous--really, it began to look as though the unknown cavalier might be playing with him. Nothing could arouse the devil in a Spanish heart quicker than this suspicion. Humiliation is to the proud don worse than any other ill save death--relieve him from this indignity and you can have all else.