"Be thou of this mind for ever," said the general, with an air of sincerity. "Now let me know, I pray you, why it is that I am somewhat more forward in confiding to thy scrutiny my secret thoughts than to the best and wisest of my bold cavaliers?" "Because thou knowest I neither love thee nor hate thee; because I lose not good-will by asking honours and spoils, nor by boasting of services and ability; but chiefly am I troubled with your confidence, because I am the only one who lists not to have it." "By my faith, thou art very right, especially in the last reason of all," said Cortes, with a laugh; "for secrets are like gnats and musket-bullets, they ever crowd thickest after those who strive most to avoid them.--Tell me now, fair and most provoking Infeliz, why, when I have flung thee open the whole book of my confidence, thou givest me not a single chapter of thine?" "Because it extends not beyond that single chapter," replied La Monjonaza, patiently, "hath neither beginning nor end, and is, beside, in a language which thou canst not understand." "Pho, you put me off with nothing," said Don Hernan, again taking the hand of his remarkable guest. "I have but one more question to ask you. Why is it, (and I pray you to forgive me the question,) that, with the consciousness that your situation in this mad land and knavish army, exposes you not only to degrading suspicion, but even to absolute personal danger, you betray no apprehension of the wild reprobates among whom you are placed? that you show no dread even of me?" "Because," said the maiden, removing her right hand, which she had, up to this moment, preserved upon her breast, and drawing aside the thick folds of veil and mantle,--"because, for the wretch who fears not the woman's arms of modesty and helplessness, I bear with me a weapon which will secure his respect." And as she spoke, the eye of Don Hernan fell upon a naked and glittering poniard thrust through her girdle, and worn as if it had long formed a part of the habit. There was something inexpressibly impressive in the calm and simple dignity with which, in the very gesture that pointed out a protection so insufficient, she acknowledged a weakness, in all other respects, unfriended. Cortes, in the multitude of his base and graspingly selfish attributes, was not without some traits of a more generous character; and especially admiring a courage so self-relying, so unaffectedly real, and perhaps so much akin to his own, he had enough of the old leaven of chivalric feeling, to understand and appreciate the claims of the sex to his compassion and protection. That he had other reasons for treating La Monjonaza with respect, cannot be denied.