The man's unwillingness to obey showed how imperative were his instructions. She rose, and the _criado_ hurried out, satisfied that she would follow. But Iris had no wish to meet San Benavides. If she were seen with him in the dark _pateo_ at this late hour, fuel would be added to the fire of Carmela's foolish spite. She was aware of Carmela's covert glance watching her from the other end of the long room. What was to be done? Why not send Carmela in her stead? They were almost of the same height, and dressed somewhat alike in flowered muslin. It would be an amusing mistake, though annoying, perhaps, to San Benavides; at any rate, Carmela would not object, and Iris was fully resolved not to keep the tryst in person. She walked straight to her enemy. "Colonel San Benavides awaits you in the _pateo_," she said in English. "Awaits _me_!" There was no mistaking the gleam in those jet-black eyes. The smoldering fire flamed into furnace heat at the implied indignity of such a mandate being delivered by Iris. "I suppose so," said Iris carelessly. "A servant brought the message. He came to me in the first instance, but I am just going to my room to pack my few belongings. We leave here at daybreak, you know." Carmela tried to smile. "I shall be sorry to lose you," she said, "though I admit it will be pleasant to occupy my own room again." Then Iris was genuinely distressed. "I had not the least notion----" she began, but Carmela nodded and made off, saying as she went: "What matter--for one night?" So, at last, she would learn the truth. Salvador was out there, alone. She would soon judge him. If he were innocent, she would know. If he had merely been made the sport of a designing woman, she was ready to forgive. In a more amiable mood than she had displayed at any moment since her arrival at Las FIores, Carmela hastened along a dark corridor, crossed a bare hall, passed through a porch, and searched the shadows of the pateo for the form of her one-time lover. A voice whispered, in French: "Come quickly, Senhora, I pray you!" It startled her to find San Benavides talking French, until it occurred to her that Iris and he must converse in that language or hardly at all. The thought was disquieting. The volcano stirred again. "Senhora, je vous prie!" again pleaded the man, who was on horseback under the trees.