"Not another word," from Carmelita, firmly. "Señorita," spoke Señora Valentino, when once more they were in the courtyard, "fate seems to keep Captain Morando's name before us." Carmelita did not reply. The woman and the girl walked slowly along the broad gravel walk toward the entrance of the hacienda house. "Our gay and handsome Captain may have lost his heart and found it a score of times. Quién sabe? What would you? It is the way of men. But what need have I to tell a beautiful señorita the way of the cavalier?" The señora smiled bewitchingly. Carmelita bit her lip. Color rose to her face, and her eyes glowed. She made no reply. "Suppose a cavalier boasts of his conquests when, at some general meeting of the departmental officers, each one, made merry by the occasion, has taken a glass or two of wine above his custom. What of it? Was not my husband, Colonel Valentino, an officer? A brave heart he had, and a loving one. Yet--" The señora laughed. Still no word came from Carmelita. "Allow me to say that Captain Morando now loves you, and you only. What of the past? You have his heart now; and I know he has yours. Why not?" Another bewitching smile. Carmelita continued walking by the señora's side, not speaking. "If, then, you do not intend to allow the Captain to continue further his courtship, take his word, passed by him through me, that he meant no harm." From the walk to the house the girl had adroitly turned their steps toward the courtyard gate. Filipo, the porter, pressed a lever. The gate swung ajar. Fifty paces away, comfortably waiting under some shade trees, were the señora's attendant peons. At a word from Filipo they sprang to horse and rode to the gate in jiglike trot. "Now, Señora Valentino," the girl said, "I shall leave word with my servants that, if you call again, they are to announce to you that I am not at home." A peon had brought the señora's horse. Kneeling he held the stirrup for her. Nimbly she found her seat. The animal pranced gracefully from side to side. She swung him toward the gate. "Adios!" she called to Carmelita. The señorita's trim, straight figure was disappearing behind the slowly closing gate. "A thousand thanks, my courteous hostess." Señora Valentino made her way along the San José road. For several hundred yards she rode in deep thought, a storm of counter currents rushing over her. "Anyway," she reflected, "Morando's course of true love has not been made more smooth by my visit this day." The accompanying laugh was not a mirthful one. CHAPTER XXI A FEW DIPLOMATIC TOUCHES "Buenos noches, señores." Two men sitting by a fire rose to their feet. "Buenos noches," responded one of them. The men moved a little toward the newcomer, one of them limping considerably, as if injured. "I say," came from the lame man, "perhaps this is some one our guide has sent in search of us."