Drawn by an attraction he could never explain, he sauntered after the _bolero_ dancer, who had evidently come out of some casino near by, after his performance was done, in order to enjoy the music of the military band--come out without changing his garments, which gave him the picturesque swagger so admired among those of his blood; and the red silk sash that was knotted at his left hip, the ends trailing almost to the knee, did not Roderic remember it well, and had he not once vowed to some day use the same in strangling the gipsy dancer with the devilish handsome face? Pshaw! that was long ago, when he was a poor fool, whom love had made insane. Now he had learned his lesson well, and never again would he allow such miserable suspicions to find lodgment in his breast. Georgia was as faithful as the stars, and the only reason he felt a little bitterness toward this fellow was in sympathy with the past. As to jealousy, thank Heaven that evil weed had been forever plucked out by the roots from the garden of his heart, and-- But there was Julio, up to his old tricks, flirting with one of Eve's daughters. Roderic, still remembering the past, found himself indulging in a wild hope that some indignant lover would set upon the gypsy dancer and give him a taste of Spanish vengeance. Such however, did not happen. The girl who had answered his signal with a wave of her snowy kerchief soon joined him, and together they pushed through the crowd as though heading for a street that broke away from the plaza. Roderic had been close at hand, and his eyes were not closed--indeed, just about this time they seemed to be unusually wide open, as though a sudden avalanche of jealousy had swept over him. It was not because the companion of Julio was veiled that he watched her so eagerly, so breathlessly--other women wore mantillas, and chose to conceal their patrician faces from the common herd when walking the plaza. What then? Love is not blind--Roderic had just now been declaring to himself that he would easily be able to pick Georgia out from among a score of girls whose features were hidden from view--and it was on this very account that he shook from head to foot as though with the palsy. Dead--that old demon Jealousy once planted in the human breast is hard indeed to slay. And Roderic again ground his teeth in fury, and followed in the wake of Julio the _bolero_ dancer of San Juan because this veiled senorita who took his arm and clung so confidingly there as they dodged through the crowd had apparently the familiar figure and actions of the girl he loved, the girl he had once jilted on account of this self same Spanish heart smasher--Georgia de Brabant, maid of San Juan! CHAPTER XVIII. JULIO DECLARES FOR WAR.