She laughed. "You haven't yet told me why you are traveling under an assumed name; neither, why you are on the mainland of California." "Undoubtedly for diversion, señora." "Come, Señor Commodore, it is as our hostess said, is it not so? that the Lion and the Eagle are straining to the contest over spoils vast as the territory of all Europe. Come, let us be fair with each other. You are here in the interest of the United States. Some special errand leads you on a secret journey. An accident brings you and me under the same roof; and fate, perhaps, leaves us here alone together in conversation. It may be that you and I could come to some understanding about affairs of mighty interest. Indeed, it may be, save two nations from grave misunderstanding." His smile was as genial as ever, as he said: "The señora favors Great Britain in the dispute she alleges may some time arise. Am I not correct?" She bowed. "You met the Señor O'Donnell a week ago, and again four days ago. Was it at your last meeting he told you of my preferences, or at the first?" She laughed, and playfully tapped the Commodore's hand with her fan. "Madam, may I say to you that I have letters in my possession from our State Department, in Washington, which relate not only to your presence here but which also tell something of your work as England's secret agent in Alta California." Again the woman laughed. "Child's play, Commodore! Child's play! The man who sent this information to your State Department, in Washington, is here, and in touch with you. Certainly, he told you as much as he wrote to Washington." The officer made no reply. "Commodore Billings, I deal with you, and with you only. I take not account of the frontiersman, O'Donnell. The United States, though still young, is a great nation; and should be represented by men such as you." "Señora, O'Donnell has the confidence of Mr. Tyler, President of the United States." "Has your Mr. Tyler the confidence of the republic which made him its President?" There was no reply. The señora arose. The jewels in her hair flamed and glittered in the firelight. A hundred questions seemed to burn in the depths of her eyes. She extended her hand, as if in gesture. The warrior-diplomat was impelled to arise also, and to take the hand in his. "Señor the Commodore, you go to conference with Mendoza, of Mission San José. Is it not so?" He started to reply, but checked himself. "Think on what you do. We of this province--Mendoza and a handful of others excepted--desire not to be ruled by your nation." "Señora Valentino, I am but a student of conditions here." She moved closer toward him. He still held her hand. "You do not come with prejudged verdict?" In her earnestness she placed her disengaged hand on his shoulder. "Assuredly not. Of course I know the general desire of my government. Further than that I do what seems wisest."