Louder crashed the music, and more hearty became the plaudits. Fulgencio Higuera drew from his pocket a handful of gold pieces, and flung them at the señorita's feet. Another, another, a dozen others, followed his example. "Brava! Brava!" cried Marcel Hernandez, tossing handfuls of gold to the ceiling. The pieces fell among the enthusiastic company, who scarcely noticed the glittering shower. Still, the doña sped on her toes, her skirt still marking in ampler pattern the lines fashioned by her feet. Her very being undulated in response to the weird music. The applause hushed for a moment. "C-A-R-M-E-L-I-T-A M-E-N-D-O-Z-A," some one spelled the tracing, letter by letter. "Carmelita Mendoza." The clamor broke out afresh. "She has worked her name on the ballroom floor, as part of the dance! Viva! Viva!" they shouted. "Viva! Viva!" The doña again fluttered up and down, arms outstretched. The caballeros rushed around the girl shouting and praising her. More gold was freely scattered, its jingle intermingling with the orchestra. "Splendid! Splendid! Is it not so, Señora Valentino?" came from Captain Morando. Without pausing for reply he hastened to Carmelita, who was surrounded by numberless congratulating friends. "O, doña mia," the Captain cried, "you dance with the grace of an angel." "The most successful rendition of El Son in a decade!" added a dueña. "The most perfect ever," again from Morando. Señora Valentino came up all smiles. "This ball is the rarest treat of my visit to California, and your El Son, señorita, is the choice incident of the evening's pleasure. I thank you for it." "You are very good, señora. I am glad that I can help in entertaining you." The music for a mazurka was beginning. The older men disappeared from the room. Morando, Peralta, Martinez, and a number of others soon followed, while the rest were again at the dance. Colonel Barcelo and Moraga returned to the card room and finished their nearly completed round of cribbage. "A piece of luck, Moraga. Simply a confounded piece of luck. It happens occasionally." "I've won five out of six games from you to-night, Colonel." "Chance threw the cards your way. My skill simply went for nothing--went for nothing!" The card room rapidly filled. After a few moments of cursory conversation there was silence. Each was waiting for another to speak. Valencia began. "Señors," with much deliberation, "at supper the sense of the majority of the assemblage was that we take our province from the tutelage of Mexico to the protection of Great Britain. The question before us is, How shall we proceed to make this transfer? Let us hear from you." Hernandez arose. "Send a delegation to the English representative in Monterey, and tell him of our desires. A British fleet is near. Let it take possession of the province. Then, if Mexico objects, she will have Great Britain to deal with." Most of the men nodded affirmatively.