"Aha, my conscientious buck cavalier!" he muttered, peering out as Cristoval strode away. "Stolen meetings with Her Highness? Tears and kissed hands at parting? By the fiend, that smelleth of romance!—And we have been wondering at thy continence, thou cursed sly dog, whilst thou hast been spreading thy net for the very pick of the flock! Oho! But wait!—let us see, _amigo mio_! Methinks the cards are to be dealt again, and thou’lt have no hand.—And thou dost nurse so charitable an interest in the Señorita Ñusta’s brother? Hum! And I have stumbled upon its source thus unexpectedly? Even so! _Bien_! But, _adiós_, my gallant. Thou’lt find more than one change on thy return to Caxamalca,—among others, a division of spoil upon which thou ’rt not counting, whereof I see a pearl to which I’ll lay claim in Pizarro’s ear this very morning.—She cometh this way, now! I’ll step out and give her greeting. Curse me! why have I not learned a few words of her heathen tongue? I know but three,—_curi_, gold; _collque_, silver; and _chicha_. Good words, but not suited to the present need. However, _no importa_—let it pass. Much can be said in dumb show. We’ll make it answer. Now, let us see if we cannot be made to forget our Cristoval." Giving a twirl to his mustachios and a touch to the sallow ruff around his neck, Mendoza stepped into the avenue, and made a well-feigned start of surprise when his eyes rested upon the approaching princess. Off came Mendoza’s sombrero, and he bowed until its plume lay on the ground. "Your gracious Highness," he murmured in Spanish, with his hand on his heart, "I am your slave. The devil take me if I know how to make you understand it, but ’t is so, my lady bird, my chickadee, and I would swear it, could I but formulate an oath which you could grasp in your benightedness." The princess, happily unconscious of the disrespect in the words, but indignant at his intrusion, responded with a barely perceptible inclination of her head, and passed on. But Mendoza was not to be easily rebuffed. Striding after her, he gained her side. "But stay, my haughty pagan lady!" he exclaimed, his forced smile only half concealing the wickedness in his eyes. "Not so fast, pretty one! Let us talk;—or if we cannot talk, let us make signs. _Caramba_! Let us be acquainted!" and he placed his hand upon her arm. The princess shrank as if from a reptile, turning with a look of indignant scorn that daunted even the case-hardened Mendoza, while a scream from the maid brought him fully to his senses. He halted, and Rava went her way with burning cheeks, leaving the Spaniard staring after her discomfited. "_Jesu!_" he exclaimed, beneath his breath. He replaced his sombrero over one ear and spread his legs wide apart, one hand upon his hip, the other depressing the hilt of his rapier until its point rose to the level of his shoulder.