“They are the little beings who build the caves, tiny creatures who live underground. I am delighted that the Spaniards have tales of something besides saints; I had enough of those at the convent. There are not only _inxanos_ but _xanos_, and they pronounce their name as though it were written Shaughnessy, though they use an x instead of an sh. The _inxanos_ are a sort of genii; they give you things when you ask them, but they, alas, like the genii generally require you to do something in return. I have written three wishes on a piece of paper and I am going to deposit the paper in one of the caves. Don’t you want to make three wishes, too?” “I certainly do.” “Oh, I knew you wouldn’t despise my fancy. You mustn’t tell your wishes, you know, or they may not come true. The _inxanos_ are very particular. Tomás has been telling me the most delightful tales of all these strange creatures. What I couldn’t understand, Tina translated for me. I must warn you of the _xanos_; they are water nymphs who haunt the forest streams and springs. They are a sort of Lorelei who charm the young men that happen to pass that way. I should hate to think of your disappearing head first into some stream to-night on account of the tricksy little things, so be very careful that you don’t linger.” As Robert looked at her he thought it was not only the _xanos_ who could lure a man from the path of duty, for try as he would to keep the image of Beatrice Moffatt before him, it was so cast into the shade by the sparkling face before him, that the image appeared but a shadowy ghost, a pale and intangible memory. “I must warn you, too, of the _huestos_,” Patty went on. “They are the evil spirits who work mischief to the utter destruction of human kind. Now, come in and write your three wishes. I have at last persuaded Polly to do hers, but I had an awful time to work upon her imagination sufficiently. She is so unsentimental, that Polly. When I had persuaded her to do it, she couldn’t make up her mind what to write. I knew in a minute.” “Will you tell me if your wishes should chance to come true?” “Will you promise to do the same?” “Yes, I promise.” “Then--Oh, I don’t know--Yes, I will tell, but I must do so in my own good time.” “And when will that be?” Patty laughed and shook her head. “You mustn’t pin me down. Remember it was you who said some day, when I asked you to tell me who fastened the blossomy branch by the window.” “If you will let me walk with you to the caves I will tell you this very night.” “Anything to have my present curiosity satisfied,” said Patty, with one of her most saucy smiles. “Come in. Polly must have made up her mind by this time, though we are not going just yet, for Tomás has promised to sing us some of those weird Asturian songs of his. He is perfectly adorable when he sings them.”