row."

"I have no objection."

"You have fought others, then?" Her voice was
the softer with the effort to turn its edge.

"No more than most men, I suppose. May I ask
how many have been fought for you?"

"My memory is no better than yours. Why
should I burden it with trifles?"

"True. It doubtless is charged with matters far
more serious than the desires of mere men. Tell
me, senorita, what is your dearest wish?" He had
bent his head and fixed his powerful gaze on her
stubborn lashes. As he hoped, she raised startled
eyes in which an angry glitter dawned.

"My dearest wish? If I had one should I tell
you? Why do you ask me such a question?"

"Because I lit a candle at the Mission to-day that
you might realize it," he answered, smiling.

To his surprise he saw a flash of terror in her
eyes before she dropped them, and felt her shiver.
But she answered coldly: