hair. I thought it was golden when she was my friend. But one can see
with half an eye that it is red."

Sarrion laughed rather shortly.

"Have you heard from your father?" he asked.

"I had a letter on Saint Mark's Day," she answered. "I have not heard
from him since. He said he hoped to give me a surprise, he trusted a
pleasant one, during the summer. What did he mean? Do you know?"

"No," answered Sarrion, thoughtfully. "I know nothing."

"And Marcos is not with you?" the girl went on gaily. "He would not dare
to come within the walls. He is afraid of all nuns. I know he is, though
he denies it. Some day, in the holidays, I shall dress as a nun, and you
will see. It will frighten him out of his wits."

"Yes," said Sarrion looking at her, "I expect it would. Tell me," he went
on after a pause, "Do you know this stick?"

And he held out, under the rays of the lamp, the sword-stick he had
picked up in the Calle San Gregorio.

She looked at it and then at him with startled eyes.

"Of course," she said. "It is the sword-stick I sent papa for the New
Year. You ordered it yourself from Toledo. See, here is the crest. Where
did you get it? Do not mystify me. Tell me quickly--is he here? Has he
come home?"