Roberto sprang back a step with the malediction thrown in his servant's face, as if to be out of reach of violence that he expected to follow it. The leap carried him into the moonlight, where he stood with hand at his sash, feeling for the weapon which, for the occasion, was not there. "Restore me the shoe! This instant give it back!" he commanded. "I was sent for it; I will restore it to the owner," Henderson replied, his manner lofty and severe. "Who commands you?" "That is for me to know, Don Roberto." "Very well," said Roberto indifferently, as if the humor of the situation had mended the affront given him by his valet. "Go on, then, and take the shoe to its owner. We will accompany you, we will go by your side, to see the pretty foot that it fits." "No, Don Roberto. Let the poor fellow have his hour of romance, if he can. I am not one with you to pry into it, or into the lady's confusion, let her be whom she may." Fernando turned away with these words, going toward the house. Henderson felt his heart warm to the young fellow. "Yankee thief! You'll feel the bite of rawhide for this," Roberto threatened. "Come, take me to the owner of this shoe." Henderson stood in the bright moonlight confronting this petulant tyrant who believed himself master not only of the present situation, but the future as well. The little shoe was soft in Henderson's hand; he held its pliant thin sole bent in his palm, hiding it from Roberto's curiously hungry eyes. It was a moment for swift consideration, quick arrival upon a course that would save the shoe's owner from the blight of scandal. Don Fernando was walking away rapidly; he passed out of sight among the low-hanging branches of the pepper trees. "Very well," Henderson yielded, after what seemed a struggle against himself. "Half of your lashes will be remitted for this, my fine Gabriel," Roberto generously declared. "But for snatching the shoe out of my hand, may rats eat my heart if I do not find your ribs with my whip tomorrow!" "This way, then," said Henderson, leading off in the direction of the laborers' huts below the brow of the hill. Where there had been merely contempt for Roberto's pampered pride, his oppression and disdain, there leaped hot in Henderson's breast this moment a desire to bring him low. As quick as the flash of his vengeful desire, Henderson's lively mind contrived a way. "Who is there in this direction wearing the shoes of a lady?" Roberto inquired, halting suspiciously after they had gone a few rods from the tree. "It remains for you to see," Henderson replied. If Don Roberto had been schooled in the inflections of the human voice, he would have turned back that moment. "Here now, Gabriel, give me the foolish shoe and let us be friends," Roberto coaxed, holding out his hand. "I promise you I will forgive you for taking it out of my hand, although you shamed me before a friend. Give it to me, and take my forgiveness."