The girl, with a clear, mellow laugh, sat down, and the young man reclined in the position he had indicated, gazing up at her with intense admiration in his eyes. “If this be war,” he said to himself, “long may I remain a soldier.” Infatuated as he certainly was, his natural alertness could not but notice that her glance wandered to the stiletto, the perpendicular shining blade of which looked like the crest of a glittering, dangerous serpent, whose body was hidden in the leaves. She had seated herself as close to the weapon as possible, and now, on one pretext or another, edged nearer and nearer to it. At last the young man laughed aloud, and, sweeping his foot round, knocked down the weapon, then indolently stretching out his arm, he took it. “Señorita,” he said, examining its keen edge, “will you give me this dagger as a memento of our meeting?” “It is unlucky,” she murmured, “to make presents of stilettos.” “I think,” said the young man, glancing up at her with a smile on his lips, “it will be more lucky for me if I place it here in my belt than if I allow it to reach the possession of another.” “Do you intend to steal it, señor?” “Oh, no. If you refuse to let me have it, I will give it back to you when our interview ends; but I should be glad to possess it, if you allow me to keep it.” “It is unlucky, as I have said; to make a present of it, but I will exchange. If you will give me one of your loaded pistols, you may have the stiletto.” “A fair exchange,” he laughed, but he made no motion to fulfil his part to the barter. “May I have the happiness of knowing your name, señorita?” he asked. “I am called Donna Rafaela Mora,” answered the girl, simply. “I am daughter of the Commandant of Fort San Carlos. I am no Nicaraguan, but a Spaniard And, señor, what is your name?” “Horatio Nelson, an humble captain in His Majesty’s naval forces, to be heard from later, I hope, unless Donna Rafaela cuts short my thread of life with her stiletto.” “And does a captain in His Majesty’s forces condescend to play the part of a spy?” asked the girl, proudly. “He is delighted to do so when it brings him the acquaintance of another spy so charming as Donna Rafaela. My spying, and I imagine yours also, is but amateurish, and will probably be of little value to our respective forces. Our real spies are now gathered round your fort, and will bring to us all the information we need. Thus, I can recline at your feet, Donna Rafaela, with an easy conscience, well aware that my failure as a spy will in no way retard our expedition.” “How many men do you command, Señor Captain?” asked the girl, with ill-concealed eagerness. “Oh, sometimes twenty-five, sometimes fifty, or a hundred or two hundred, or more, as the case may be,” answered the young man, carelessly. “But how many are there in your expedition now?” “Didn’t you count them, Donna? To answer truly, I must not, to answer falsely, I will not, Donna.”