Therefore I felt nothing of gratitude; but when I came to analyze my real feeling toward the young woman, whose wondrous black eyes seemed to reflect all of the mystery and witchery of those glorious ages that died with the departure of the Moors, and were silently eloquent of a fine civilization of old centuries, I found that the deep impression her physical charms had made on me had been intensified by her mad affection for me. This made it no easy matter to leave her, but I had no notion of taking her with me, and had to get bluff Bill Heather to half carry her ashore just before the gang plank was pulled in. Most of the arms had been removed from the ship while we were away and turned over to the guard Don Carlos had sent down. The rest of the cargo was jerked out with all speed and as soon as the last box was on the bank we got under way. We had not gone a quarter of a mile, moving slowly on account of the tortuous channel, when the gypsies came running after us, shouting and waving at us to come back. The cause of their excitement was soon discovered in the presence of my Gitano girl, who had stolen on board at the last minute, while I was below inspecting the engines, and concealed herself until we were under way. My first impulse was to stop the ship and set her ashore but before I could give the order she came running to me and declared, with an imperious air of authority: “I am going with you, so pay no attention to my foolish people.” “But, my dear girl, you cannot do that,” I protested. “I shall be accused of having stolen you.” “You cannot steal what belongs to you,” was her quick reply. “But I am going to a strange land where there are none of your people and where your language is a strange tongue. You will be lonely and die.” “I never shall be lonely where you are,” she exclaimed with all the passion of her romantic soul, “and I shall not die unless they kill me here. If you go on I go with you; if I go ashore you go with me.”