"Have you seen my new bauble of gold? Señor Garabito asked permission of my father to present it me as a souvenir of this land of wilderness."
Carlotta extended a shapely arm, upon which a bracelet dangled.
"’Tis rarely pretty," Inez said, neither too much admiration nor any disparagement in her voice.
"Señor Garabito, as you know, is a wealthy caballero to whom such a bauble is as nothing," Carlotta went on. "He purchases them by the score as gifts for his friends in Spain. You are fortunate, señorita, to have such a man for adorer."
"I care not to hear praises of Señor Garabito," Inez said. "And some men are courageous enough to go into the wilderness and gather such baubles for themselves. I believe I'd prize one obtained in that way vastly more. Any with money may purchase."
Now the fathers of the two señoritas had stepped aside to discuss certain matters of local politics, and the girls were alone, for their duennas were some distance away on the steps of the church, content to remain sitting there in the shade as long as no caballero approached their charges. Thus, masks could be dropped for a moment and words spoken that might have been held back had any other been close enough to overhear.
"What you say is true," Carlotta spoke softly, yet with a hard expression in her face. "I have commissioned a caballero to gather me such a bauble with his own hands. He has promised to take it from the very person of a native cacique, even the head cacique of the great wilderness."
"Indeed?" Inez purred.
"As a mark of devotion he will do it. Mayhap it will be necessary for me to hide it from my duenna's prying eyes; yet a girl always can protect a love-token. I hope to have it soon. I believe you have met the caballero. He is one of Vasco Nunez's men, Señor Bartolmeo Botello."
"I have met him," Inez admitted, smiling faintly.
"When he protested his devotion, at a time my duenna was asleep in her chair, I asked him for a token. Then it was he promised to get me the bauble, though he suffer wounds in the getting of it. Is it not rare to be loved by such a courageous man?"
"It will take as great courage, señorita, for you to face your father confessor after that statement," Inez suggested.
"You doubt it, then?"
"So much that I term it a falsehood deliberately given," Inez replied.
Black eyes flashed into black eyes. Carlotta Bonilla bit her pretty lips an instant, then held her head high, and would have started away to rejoin her father, but the low voice of Inez Malpartida reached her ears again.
"Since you have shown me your bauble, allow me to show you mine," she purred. "You may observe it beneath my sleeve. It came from the breast of an Indian cacique, señorita, even the Great Cacique of the wilderness, and is set with gorgeous pearls."
"Indeed?"
"Señor Bartolmeo Botello gave it me. Mayhap it is the one he intended giving you, and changed his mind upon more mature reflection."
Señorita Carlotta Bonilla did turn away now and hurried to her father's side, begging him to take her straightaway to their house, walking so swiftly beside him (while he asked whether she had a sudden illness) that her duenna struggled to keep them in sight.
And Señorita Inez Malpartida, her heart singing a little song, smiled eloquently and turned to her own father, to cling to his arm and acknowledge the greetings of such caballeros as came forward, who were many.
CHAPTER II.
"ANOTHER TATTER."
SEÑORITA INEZ MALPARTIDA'S eyes continually roamed the plaza, and after a time her face flushed prettily, and she began talking swiftly about nothing much at all to cover her confusion. For now she observed the broad shoulders of Bartolmeo Botello as they were thrust through the crowd. Once she met his eyes, and then there were men between them again, and she turned to hold conversation with those nearest, knowing well Botello would approach after a time and greet her as if it were merely a pleasant duty, trying hard to hide the love in his eyes and hoping for a word with her alone, yet knowing he would not get it.
And then she saw Señor Garabito approaching from the opposite direction, for he had been walking along the shore with his friend, and a dark look came into her face. She knew this Garabito had been in the good graces Of her father, and if he approached now, her father would see that she held conversation with him, while Bartolmeo Botello would be forced to wait in the distance. That would mean that Botello would have time for nothing more than the smallest greeting, for already the moment approached when her lather would return her to the house.
But, to her wonder, her father turned and witnessed the approach of Garabito also, and calling Inez's duenna to her duty, stepped a few paces away to meet the man.
"A greeting to you, Señor Malpartida," Garabito called. "I am coming to pay my respects—"
"A moment," said Malpartida, in a stern voice. "It has come to my ears that certain things have been said concerning your relations with a native maid."
"Primarily, señor, the words were spoken by an out-at-elbows follower of the ragged De Balboa who likes me not. In the second instance, cannot a caballero amuse himself now and then with a likely looking bronze wench?"
"This is not Seville, señor, where intrigues are smiled at and kept under cover. This is the wilderness where but a few of us reside, and where a man may make no ulterior move without it becoming known. You have done me the honor to seek permission to pay your court to my daughter, señor, and I have looked upon your suit with some favor. But now that your name has been upon every tongue—"
"On the tongue of a ragged scapegrace!" Garabito interrupted, hotly.
"Yet men have heard his words and have failed to hear your denial of their truth, señor."
"Would you have me utter falsehood?" asked Garabito.
"I would have you so conduct yourself that there would be no need of uttering falsehood."
"What are your wishes in the matter, Señor Malpartida?" Garabito asked, something of anger in his tone.
"This ragged scapegrace, as he is in your words, is a caballero of good birth, señor, even though he is not well clothed. And he has said—"
"Pardon, señor! Are you so blind that you do not see this Señor Botello looks with favor upon your fair daughter and so seeks to malign me?"
"He mentioned no lady's name, señor, as I regret you have done. He said, I understand, that you were to refrain from approaching respectable folk."
"And you subscribe to that sentiment, señor?"
"Only in so far as my own family is concerned, caballero. Allow me to suggest that you drop this Indian maid—give her gold and send her away—"
"Gold? She has more than I have!"
"Anything to get her away. Conduct yourself for a time as a pattern of virtue. When this matter has been forgotten it will be time for you to consider my daughter again."
"And, in the mean time, this ragged Señor Botello will pay his court, eh?"
"Señor!" Old 'Malpartida's voice trembled with anger as he spoke the word, and for an instant he touched the hilt of his rapier, which he wore as a matter of style rather than for service; for it had been some years since Señor Malpartida had drawn blade in offense or to repel attack.
"Your pardon!" Garabito was quick to say. "I am angered beyond proper speech, goaded into forgetting my breeding by this follower of De Balboa who