He had just noted the old name on a rough stone gate post "Lucknow Bungalow," and was wondering if some gallant retired officer who had seen exciting days with Havelock, or later with gallant Roberts, might live in cozy retirement here, surrounded by objects brought from the far distant realm of Her Majesty the Empress of India, when some magnetism seemed to draw his gaze toward the romantic house set back a little from the road. Just at the same instant some one leaned out of an open window as if to close a shutter, some one whose personality acted upon Roderic very much as might a shock of electricity. Of course it was the girl from Porto Rico. That she saw him and recognized him Roderic realized instantly. It was another freak of Fate. When the three sisters who weave our destinies with distaff and loom, conspire against a poor mortal, there is little use trying to dodge the snare, since the loop falls over one's shoulders on the most unexpected occasions, and usually without warning. Roderic yielded, rescue or no rescue, at once. He immediately arose from his place and made down the winding stairs at the end of the car. The vehicle had been progressing meanwhile as rapidly as two sturdy Irish horses could draw it along the rails, and by the time the gentleman from across the Atlantic reached _terra firma_ they were half a block away from the bungalow and its stone posts. Roderic had not developed any plan of action--what he did was from sheer impulse. The sight of her face had spurred him on--nor might this be set down as the only instance where a woman's lovely countenance caused unpremeditated action on the part of a usually conservative and well balanced man. When he reached the distinguishing stone pillars upon which he read the name of the villa, Roderic boldly turned in. Prudence might have dictated another course, for there was reason to believe, as both Darby and himself had discovered, that the old Porto Rican general, Georgia's uncle in fact, was allied with those who had endeavored to work the grand scheme. Therefore, he would not be apt to look upon any Yankee, and particularly Roderic Owen, with favor. General Porfidio to the contrary, the American strode past the sentinel posts, up the box bordered walk and directly to the front door. This was his nature, bold to a fault, ready to walk directly up to the cannon's mouth if duty but half demanded it. It was the Irish element in his blood, for where that strain goes throughout the peoples of the wide world, it carries with it devotion and gallantry. Before he could lay a hand upon the knocker, that represented a bronze Hindoo god, the door softly opened. A young girl stood there. As he looked at her, framed in the opening, with the light of the setting sun falling upon her wondrous face, Roderic held his very breath, for he was again under the spell of her dusky eyes, that ever wove a web of enchantment about him.