"I am too old and, I hope, too wise," returned the Spaniard, "to attempt
to tame the whirlwind. But cheer up, my friend. Although she rode off to
meet this Hanson, without a doubt, still, the day is not over."

"You know what she is when her head is set," murmured Flick.

"I! Have I not cause?" exclaimed Gallito, a depth of meaning in his
tone. "Who so much? But, nevertheless, she has not gone for good. She
would not leave without some of her clothes, especially her dancing
dresses and slippers, if she went with him. And her jewels, oh,
certainly, not without her jewels!" he smiled wisely. "There are, as you
know, certain ornaments about which she has her superstitions; she will
not dance without her emeralds. Oh, no, console yourself, as I do. She
has not gone for good."

But Flick was not so easily reassured. "I almost wish she had," he said
gloomily. "If she don't go to-day, she will to-morrow or next day."

"In that case they will not go far," returned Gallito and rubbed his
hands. His reply had been quick and sharp as the beat of a hammer on an
anvil; but now he spoke more softly: "But will she go at all, my friend?
You, like myself, have ever played for high stakes. Then you know and I
know that this is a world where a man may never look ahead and calculate
and say, 'because there is this combination of circumstances, these
results will certainly follow,'" he emphasized his words by tapping on
the table with his long, gnarled forefinger. "The wise man never
predicts, because he is always aware of that interfering something which
we call the unexpected." He blew great wreaths of smoke from his mouth
and watched them float out on the sun-gilded air. "We know that my
daughter is as obstinate as a pig and as wilful as a burro, therefore we