During the progress of this scene, Allan Allan of Jamaica had stood frozen with amazement, a door-knob wedged firmly into the small of his back, his eyes distended and rolling; but when Mrs. Runnels collapsed, as at a signal he too dissolved in tears. "Oh, glory to God, boss," he sobbed, "you is a beautiful bridegroom!" "Come, we must get back, the music has stopped again." Kirk turned to the judge. "Nothing is to be said until Miss Gar--Mrs. Anthony gives the word; you understand? I can't thank you all half enough. Now, Allan, see if the coast is clear, quickly!" He was still in a panic, for there yet remained a chance of discovery and ruin. One more instant of suspense, then the two stepped out; the door closed softly behind them and they strolled around the corner of the north wing and into the crowd. It had all happened so quickly that even yet they were dazed and disbelieving. "My wife!" Kirk whispered, while a tremendous rush of emotion swept over him. She trembled in answer like a wind-shaken leaf. "You're mine, Chiquita! They can't take you away." His voice broke. "I am still dreaming. What have I done? Oh-h--they will know; in my face they will read the truth. But I do not care. Is--it indeed true?" They were at the entrance to the ballroom now, through which they had come a few minutes before, and, pausing, she gave him a half-serious, half-timid glance. "Senor, I do not know if some time you will be sorry for this action, but I shall never cease loving you. I prayed hourly to the Blessed Virgin, and she heard. Now, I shall perish until you come." "When you give me leave; through steel and stone, through fire and water." "Quick, for the one more time, call me--that--" She hesitated, blushing vividly. "I will hear it in my dreams." "My wife!" he whispered, tenderly. "Ho! Chiquita mia!" her father cried, as they came to him. "There you are then. I have missed you." His eyes smouldered as he gazed suspiciously at Kirk. "Ah, but I was too warm," she said, easily. "Yonder by the door we have been standing in the night breeze. And where is Ramon?" "He is looking for you." "One would think him a jealous husband already," she exclaimed, lightly. Then, extending her hand coolly to Kirk, "I thank you, senor, for the--dance." Her husband bowed. "I shall not soon forget it." To the father he added, in a low voice: "I thank you, also, for your courtesy. We have been discussing your daughter's marriage during the dance, and it is my one greatest hope that she will never regret it." The banker acknowledged the words ceremoniously. "Love is a thing that comes and goes; marriage alone can bind it. Some day you will thank me, and then perhaps you will honor our house again, eh?" "I shall be happy to come whenever you wish." As he walked away, the banker said, with relief: "He takes it well; he is proud--almost like a Spaniard."