him--lost me at cards. Oh, I shall die! Sebastian won't believe
it. He is praying. And Asensio--O God! But what can they do to
help me? You alone can save me. You won't let Don Pablo take me
away? It would kill me."

"Wait!" Esteban scrambled out of bed and stood beside his dusky
nurse and playmate. "Don't cry any more. I'll tell papa that you
don't like Don Pablo."

Rosa followed. "Yes, come along, brother," she cried, shrilly.
"We'll tell Don Pablo to go home and leave our Evangelina."

"My blessed doves! But will they listen to you?" moaned the slave.

"Papa does whatever we ask," they assured her, gravely. "If he
should growl we'll come back and hide you in the big wardrobe
where nobody will ever find you." Then hand in hand, with their
long nightgowns lifted to their knees, they pattered out into the
hall and down toward the living-room, whence came the shouting and
the laughter.

Don Mario de Castano, who was facing the door, stopped in the
midst of a ribald song to cry: "God be praised! What's this I
see?"

The others looked and then burst into merriment, for across the
litter of cards and dice and empty glasses they saw a dimpled girl
and boy, as like as two peas. They were just out of bed; they were
peering through the smoke, and blinking like two little owls.
Their evident embarrassment amused the guests hugely.