In his local legal experience, he has many times seen wilder schemes succeed. Spanish grants have been shifted leagues to suit the occasion. Boundaries are removed bodily. Witnesses are manufactured under golden pressure. The eyes of Justice are blinded with opaque weights of the yellow treasure. But he must work rapidly. It is now only a short week to the trial. The court-house and records are regularly watched. Not a move indicates any prying into the matter beyond the mere identity of the heiress. But who has set up the other claimant? It would be madness for Natalie to raise this quarrel! Some schemers have imposed a strange girl on the other party. Hardin recalls Natalie's wild astonishment at the apparition of another "Isabel Valois." And the second girl did not even know who Natalie was. What devil's work is this? Hardin decides to "burn his ships." Alone in the home of the Peraltas, he prepares for a campaign " l'outrance." That crafty priest might know too much. The evening before his departure he burns up every paper at the ranch which would cause any remark, even in case of his death. Next morning, as he rides out of Lagunitas, he gazes on the fair domain. The last thing he sees is the chapel cross. A chill suddenly strikes him. He gallops on. Rapidly journeying to Mariposa, he installs himself in the headquarters of his friends. His ablest counsel has provided the bought Judge, with full secret instructions to meet every contingency. Sober and serious in final judgment, Philip Hardin quickly summons a discreet friend. He requests a last personal interview with Natalie de Santos. The ambassador is received by good-humored Joe Woods. He declines an interview, by the lady's orders, unless its object is stated. Hardin requests that some friend other than the Missouri miner, may be named to represent Natalie. His eyes gleam when the selection is made of PŠre Fran‡ois. Just what he would wish. It lacks now but three days of the final hearing. An hour after the message, Hardin and the priest are seated, in quiet commune. There are no papers. There is no time lost, none to lose. No witnesses, no interlopers. Hardin opens his proposals. The priest seems tractable. "I do not wish to refer to any present legal matters. I speak only of the past. I will refer only to the future of 'Madame de Santos.' You may say to her that if she will grant me a brief interview, I feel I can make her a proposition she will accept, as very advantageous. In justice to her, I cannot communicate its details, even to you. But if she wishes to advise with you, I have no objection to giving you the guarantees of my provision for her future. You shall know as much of our whole arrangement as she wishes you to. She can have you or other friends, in an adjoining room. You can be called in to witness the papers, and examine the details."