Oakhurst (dusting his clothing with his handkerchief). I never knew before why these Spaniards covered their adobe walls with whitewash. (Leans against pillar in shadow.) Re-enter JOVITA, hastily. Jovita. All is lost; the corral door is locked; the key is outside, and Concho is gone,--gone where? Madre di Dios! to discover, perhaps to kill him. Oakhurst (approaching her). No. Jovita. Juan! (Embracing him.) But how did you get here? This is madness! Oakhurst. As you did not come to the mission, I came to the rancho. I found the gate locked--by the way, is not that a novelty here?--I climbed the wall. But you, Miss Castro, you are trembling! Your little hands are cold! Jovita (glancing around). Nothing, nothing! But you are running a terrible risk. At any moment we may be discovered. Oakhurst. I understand you: it would be bad for the discoverer. Never fear, I will be patient. Jovita. But I feared that you might meet Concho. Oakhurst. Concho--Concho--(meditatively). Let me see,--tall, dark, long in the arm, weighs about one hundred and eighty, and active. Jovita. Yes; tell me! You have met him? Oakhurst. Possibly, possibly. Was he a friend of yours? Jovita. No! Oakhurst. That's better. Are his pursuits here sedentary, or active? Jovita. He is my father's major-domo. Oakhurst. I see: a sinecure. (Aside.) Well, if he has to lay up for a week or two, the rancho won't suffer. Jovita. Well? Oakhurst. Well! Jovita (passionately). There, having scaled the wall, at the risk of being discovered--this is all you have to say! (Turning away.) Oakhurst (quietly). Perhaps, Jovita (taking her hand with grave earnestness), to a clandestine intimacy like ours there is but one end. It is not merely elopement, not merely marriage, it is exposure! Sooner or later you and I must face the eyes we now shun. What matters if tonight or later? Jovita (quickly). I am ready. It was you who-- Oakhurst. It was I who first demanded secrecy, but it was I who told you when we last met that I would tell you why to-night. Jovita. I am ready; but hear me, Juan, nothing can change my faith in you! Oakhurst (sadly). You know not what you say. Listen, my child. I am a gambler. Not the man who lavishes his fortune at the gaming-table for excitement's sake; not the fanatic who stakes his own earnings--perhaps the confided earnings of others--on a single coup. No, he is the man who loses,--whom the world deplores, pities, and forgives. I am the man who wins--whom the world hates and despises. Jovita. I do not understand you, Juan.