"Are you?" said Jack, facing his questioner sharply; "then you shall have it. I do love Doña Dolores; and, what is more, she returns that love. One person only will she marry, and that person is myself, John Duval!" "You will never marry her!" exclaimed Xuarez, vehemently. "She is mine!--mine! Before a month is gone, she becomes my wife!" "Ah!" sneered Jack, with a world of meaning in his tone, "I knew you lied when you said she was not in Acauhtzin." "Carrai!" cried Don Hypolito, who was beginning to lose his temper; "I did not lie. She is not in Acauhtzin. She is----" "Where?" asked Duval, impetuously. "In a place you will never discover, Señor. Not that it matters much, for, in any case, you will not marry her. No! You are reserved for a worse fate!--a fate which will bitterly punish you for daring to be my rival." "I am not a child, to be frightened of big words," said Jack, scornfully, though his heart quailed at the deadly menace of the Mestizo's tones. "My friends know I am in Acauhtzin. They will come back for me." "They have already tried to do so," retorted Xuarez, triumphantly. "When they left the harbour, I suppose they discovered you were left behind. The boat returned; but a few shot from the forts, and the war-ships made her retreat, and when I last saw her she was steaming full speed for Tlatonac." "Yes? I knew as much. To bring back an army to level Acauhtzin to the ground. To capture you! to rescue me!" "No one can rescue you!" replied Xuarez, in a sombre tone. "Your only chance of escape is to give up Doña Dolores!" "To you! to you!" cried Jack, fiercely. "You who love her not for herself, but because she is the guardian of the opal stone! Ah, yes, Señor Xuarez! I know well what you design. You wish to marry Dolores--to secure the opal stone, to gain over the Indians to your cause. All ambition; there is no love. I tell you, Señor, such a thing can never be. Dolores would sooner die than give herself up to a villain like yourself. You will never possess Dolores--you will never be master of the Chalchuih Tlatonac! Turn your ambitions to other things, Don Hypolito. Dolores is not for you!" Don Hypolito sprang to his feet with a cry of rage. Hitherto he had restrained himself in a most admirable manner; but now the insulting speeches of his prisoner proved too much for even his well-trained temper. A torrent of passion swept away all his reserve, and he burst out into a furious speech.