poised head moved in perfect concord with her undulating hips. Her eyes
grew brighter, her lips redder. The young men who stood near gave as
loud a vent to their admiration as if she had been dancing El Son alone
on the floor. But the man without made no sign.

After the dance was over, General Castro led her to her dueña, and
handing her a guitar, begged a song.

She began a light love-ballad, singing with the grace and style of her
Spanish blood; a little mocking thing, but with a wild break now and
again. As she sang, she fixed her eyes coquettishly on the adoring face
of Guido Cabañares, who stood beside her, but saw every movement of the
form beyond the window. Don Guido kept his ardent eyes riveted upon
her but detected no wandering in her glances. His lips trembled as he
listened, and once he brushed the tears from his eyes. She gave him
a little cynical smile, then broke her song in two. The man on the
corridor had vaulted through the window.

Ysabel, clinching her hands the better to control her jumping nerves,
turned quickly to Cabañares, who had pressed behind her, and was pouring
words into her ear.

"Ysabel! Ysabel! hast thou no pity? Dost thou not see that I am fit to
set the world on fire for love of thee? The very water boils as I drink
it--"

She interrupted him with a scornful laugh, the sharper that her voice
might not tremble. "Bring me my pearls. What is love worth when it will
not grant one little desire?"