It was two or three days after this that Uncle Adan came in toward sunset with a fine piece of news.

"The SeÑor knows the hacienda of Palmacristi?" began Uncle Adan, more as a preface than as a question.

Don Beltran laughed. He had known the hacienda of Palmacristi as long as he had known anything; he had known the old Don Gil well, who, indeed, had been a distant relative of his own, and he had seen the young Don Gil grow up to manhood. Beltran was ten years older than Silencio. He had often envied the young fellow his independence and freedom in the way of money. He thought him hot-headed and likely to get into trouble some day, and now, from Uncle Adan's account, that day had arrived. He did not think it necessary to say this; Adan knew it as well as he.

"What has he been doing now?" asked Don Beltran.

"Only getting married, SeÑor," answered the old capitas.

"I did not dream that he would do anything so sensible," said Don Beltran, with a glance at Agueda.

Agueda bent her eyes low and blushed. How dear it was of him to think of her first of all, and always in that connection. But what was the haste? He loved her, of that she was sure. He would always love her. When he was ready, she would be, but it was not a pressing matter.

"The SeÑor E'cobeda does not think it so sensible, SeÑor Don Beltran."

"Aaaah! it was the little SeÑorita Raquel, then. Wise man, wise man!"—Agueda looked up suddenly—"to marry the girl of his choice. But how did he get her, Adan? It was only three weeks ago that he wrote me a line, begging that I would aid him in an effort to carry her off."

"And the SeÑor answered—?"

"I told him that I would come whenever he called upon me. I have no liking for Escobeda. He will not sell me the lowlands between the river and the sea. He is an unpleasant neighbour, he—"

"He is a devil," said Adan.

"I think that it must be I who made that marriage hasten as it did," said Agueda, smilingly. "The SeÑor remembers the day last week when I came home and found the SeÑor with the letter from the SeÑor Don NoÉ saying that he would make a visit at Palmacristi with the little child? It was on that day that I carried the note from the SeÑorita to Don Gil."

"And that was the very day of the marriage," broke in Adan, willing enough to interrupt his niece, though not his master. "It was the very day. There was a shipwreck, and somehow the young SeÑor got the SeÑorita from the vessel. Como no, hombre! When one wants a thing he must have it if he is gran' SeÑor. The padre was there, and he married them, and now they have to reckon with the SeÑor E'cobeda."

"Where was the precious rascal all this time?" asked Don Beltran.

"Some say that he was on board the ship, SeÑor, and that he was carried on to the government town. They say he knew nothing of the grounding of the vessel; he was always sick with the sea, that SeÑor E'cobeda. Caramba! I should like to see him sick with the sea, or with the bite of a black spider, or with anything else that would kill him—that SeÑor E'cobeda!"

"I cannot see what he can do, Adan," said Don Beltran. "If she is married, he cannot change that."

Adan nodded, and scratched his ankle with his machete.

"Married fast enough, SeÑor Don Beltran. First by the padre at the hacienda, and then at the little church at Haldez. I cannot see what rights he has over the young SeÑora now.

"None at all," said Don Beltran. "Does the lad want me over there—the SeÑor Silencio?"

"I have heard nothing from him, SeÑor Don Beltran. Juan Rotiro told me many things, but the SeÑor knows what Juan Rotiro is when the pink rum gets into his judgment. He says that the SeÑor E'cobeda will soon return, and that there will be fighting, but it seems to me that the SeÑor Don Gil can hold his own. Como no! when he has the law on his side."

"Law," Beltran laughed. "Do you suppose rascals like Escobeda care for law? Besides, he has the Governor on his side. He pays large sums for so-called concessions; that I know, and the Governor winks both eyes very fast at anything that Escobeda chooses to do. Did you hear anything about his getting that band from Troja together?"

"Caramba! yes, SeÑor Don Beltran! It was spoken under the breath, and just from one peon to the other. They did not know much."

Don Beltran arose. "I think I will ride over to Palmacristi, Agueda; get me my spur. Would you like to come, child?"

Agueda shook her head, and ran into the sitting-room to hide her confusion. Her face was a dull crimson as she took the spur down from the nail.

"The espuela is dusty; shall brighten it, SeÑor?"

"Call old Juana. I will not have you soil your pretty hands, child, on my spur. The grey, Pablo," he shouted toward the rambling structure that was dignified by the name of stable.

"And why not come with me, Agueda?"

Agueda bent over her stitching.

"I am much too busy to-day, SeÑor," she said. "Far too busy," she thought, "to go over there, not sure of my welcome." Things had changed at Palmacristi, and remembering the slight inflection in Silencio's tone when last she saw him, she knew that henceforth Raquel was quite out of her reach.

"I was good enough to take her note for her when she was SeÑorita," thought Agueda, "but I am not good enough to visit her now that she is SeÑora."

Agueda's sensitive and delicate nature had evolved this feeling out of an almost imperceptible glance, a faint, evanescent colouring of tone in the inflection of Silencio's voice, but it told her, as memory called it up, that the front door of Palmacristi would henceforth be closed to her. She would not hamper Beltran. He was thoughtless, and might suffer more from a slight to her than from one to himself; or else he might become angry and break his pleasant friendship with Silencio, a friendship which had existed between the families for generations. No, she had better remain at home. Again, when Beltran asked her, she shook her head and smiled, though a drop of water lay near the surface of her eye, but Beltran did not see, and rode away gaily, waving his hand.

Arrived upon the height where stood the Casa de Caoba, he rode the grey down to the bank, because on the calm sea he had discovered Silencio and Raquel, in the little skiff in which Raquel had been rescued. He heard Silencio say, "There is Beltran; let us go in and see him."

"I do not know that Don Beltran," said Raquel. "Does not the girl Agueda live there, at San Isidro?"

"Yes; do you know Agueda?" As Silencio spoke he waved his hand to the horseman on the bank.

"Bien venido," he shouted. And then to Raquel, "Where did you see the girl Agueda?"

"I have often seen her," said Raquel. "She is very handsome. She looks like a young boy. She is really no darker than I am. Have you forgotten that she brought my note to you that day?"

"No," said Silencio; "I have not forgotten it. She has perhaps more good Spanish blood in her veins than either of us," continued he, as he bent to the oars.

"Such things are very sad," said Raquel. "She is so above her station. I should like to have her come here and live with us."

"That would not do at all, Raquel," returned Silencio, gravely.

"Is there anything wrong with her?" asked Raquel, wonderingly.

"N—no, not that I know of, but she is not of your station."

"And yet you say that she has better ancestry than either you or I," argued Raquel, as the boat grounded. "I am sure her uncle is a great deal more respectable than mine."

Silencio waved his hand to Beltran. "We were looking to see if there was any sign of the yacht," he called. "I sent her round to Lambrozo to be repaired. We may need her now any day. Oh! I quite forgot you do not know my wife, Beltran. I must introduce you."

Raquel bowed and walked onward to order refreshments for the visitor.

"Let me congratulate you," said Beltran, when Silencio had thrown the painter to Andres, who was standing near and had scrambled up the bank. "I was surprised by your very charming news."

"Hardly more than I was myself."

"How did you manage, Gil?"

"The gods were with me," answered Silencio, laughing, though Beltran noticed that his brow clouded over almost immediately. His laughter sounded false. "It is true that I have what I wished, Beltran," he continued—"the dearest blessing that any man, were he prince or noble, could ask." ("She is not half so beautiful as my Agueda," thought Beltran, while nodding acquiescence.) "I have her, she is mine; but—there is Escobeda still to be reckoned with."

"Where is he?" asked Beltran.

"I wish he were in hell," said Silencio, fiercely.

"You are not singular in that, but the result is not always the offspring of the desire. It would indeed be a blessing to send him there, but unfortunately, my boy, there is law for him in this land, though very little of it when it comes to the wrongs that you and I suffer. The question is, where is he, and when do you expect him here?"

"He went on to the government town with the steamer."

Beltran threw his leg over the saddle and dropped to the ground, walking beside his young friend. He heard all that there was to tell.

"He was very ill when the steamer ran on the sand spit that night." Silencio looked narrowly at his friend. He wished to see if his share in the decoying of the steamer had been noised abroad. Beltran listened without a flicker of the eyelash.

"The doctor had given him something strong—a new thing down here, called, I believe, chloral."

"Como no!" burst forth Beltran, "if they only gave him enough."

"They gave him enough for my purpose," said Silencio. "He was utterly stupid. Was I going to awake him and ask permission to run away with his niece? Caramba, Beltran! I should think not! He was stupid, I imagine, all the way to the government town. When he called for the bird whose wings he thought he had clipped, behold, the little thing had flown, and with me, the dreaded enemy."

Don Beltran laughed long and heartily.

"You are a clever boy, Gil; but how about the future? As you say, you have that still to reckon with."

The darkening of Silencio's face recalled to Beltran that antiquated simile of the sweeping of a cloud across the brightness of the sun. But not all old things have lost their uses.

"I know that," said Silencio; "that is the worst of it. I have taken her from him to protect her, and now—and now—if—I—should fail—"

"I rode over to-day for that very thing, Gil, to ask if I could help. I will come over with all my people if you say so, whenever you send for me. My uncle, Don NoÉ Legaspi, comes within a day or so, to stay with me at San Isidro. He brings his little child, a motherless little thing, with him, but I can come all the same. I think that it was never said of my house that we deserted a friend or a kinsman in trouble."

"I see what you are afraid of," said Silencio. "You think he will attack me."

"I do," answered Beltran; "but we can stand him off, as the Yankees say. You have the right to shoot if he attacks you, but I hope that it will be my bullet that takes him off, the double-dyed scoundrel!"

"You will take some refreshment, Beltran?"

"No, it is late; my breakfast is waiting. A' Dios, Gil, a' Dios."

As they were about to part, Silencio called after his friend:

"I will send you word as soon as I receive the news myself. You will come at once, eh, Beltran?"

Don Beltran paused in mounting the grey, and turned his head to look at his friend. Silencio's fingers were nervously opening and closing around one of the fence palings.

"For myself I should not care; that you know, Beltran; but for her, it would kill me to have her fall into his hands again. It would be death to me to lose her. She will die if she thinks that she can be taken from me, and by that villain. Do you know what they meant to do with her, Beltran? They meant—they meant—"

Silencio's voice sank to a whisper. His face had become white, his lips bloodless. His eyes seemed to sink back in his head and emit sparks of fire. In the compression of the mouth Beltran saw the determination of certain death for Escobeda should he come within range of Silencio's weapon.

Beltran was in the saddle now. He turned and surveyed his friend with some anxiety.

"Be careful, Gil," he said; "don't come within reach of the villain. Discretion is much the better part in this matter. Keep yourself under cover. They will pick you off, those rascals. Send for me the night before you know that he is coming, and I will ride over with ten of my men. We can garrison at your house?"

"I shall make ready for you," said Silencio. "My only fear is that I shall not have warning enough."

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