It was midnight before Senor Andres Garavel, the banker, bade his friends good-bye. When he descended the hotel steps to his carriage, he held his white head proudly erect, and there was new dignity in his bearing. As he was whirled homeward behind his spirited Peruvian mare, a wonderful song was singing in his heart. XVIII THE SIEGE OF MARIA TORRES The faithful Allan was not long in fulfilling his mission. Such devotion as his, it seemed, could hardly fail, and, if there had been a hundred Chiquitas, doubtless he would have corralled them all. He conveyed the impression that, if it had been necessary to journey beyond the grave and bring back the ghost of some dead-and-gone Chiquita, he would have gloriously succeeded. One morning, a few days later, he appeared to Kirk, bursting with importance and news. "Well, sar! I have discovered your female," he announced, pompously. "No? What's her name? Who is she?" "Her is named Maria Torres, sar, and resides in the small 'ouse you h'observed upon the 'ill." "Did you SEE her?" Anthony could hardly believe his ears. "Oh yes, very h'extensively." "What does she look like? Is she dark?" "Very dark, sar." "And small?" "Not too small," opined Allan. "Of course, just right. And her eyes, like--like--" "H'ink! Spots of h'ink. Oh, it is she, Master h'Auntony." "Jove! I believe it is! You're an ace, Allan. You're my ace of spades." Out of pure joy he began to pummel him playfully. "Why don't you rejoice? Lift up your voice and sing. Maria Torres! It's a heavenly name--Why don't you make a joyful noise?" Allan voiced a feeble hurrah. "It was only by chawnce that I h'encountered her, boss, for she is residing in the city. I h'ascertained all those facts--" "Good! Find the street and number, quick! I'm going a-wooing! Say! When these Spaniards court a girl they hang around her window and roll their eyes, don't they? Me for that! I'll haunt the Torres neighborhood until she shows herself, or die in the attempt. I'll play their game. I'll get a guitar, I'll--Oh, from this moment I'm a Spaniard of the Spaniards. I'm the incarnation of ten thousand fiery cavaliers. I'll stand in front of her house until she sends me a chair. Maria Tor--What the deuce are you loafing for? Get a move on; hustle those kidney feet of yours. Don't come back until you have located her; for to-night--ah, blessed night! My life's romance begins in earnest. GET OUT!" Allan fled while Kirk proceeded to dream over his breakfast of bacon and cold-storage eggs. He was beaming when he appeared at the office. He sang, he whistled, he performed his duties with a joyous uproar that interfered seriously with all around him and set the whole place in confusion. Nor did his spirits lessen when, later in the day, Allan informed him that the residence of Senor Luis Torres, whom the gods had selected as father to the delectable Maria, was at number 89 Avenida Norte.