"What think'st thou by now of the English, Wildenai, my little wild
rose?" he asked.

But the princess seemed not to have heard his question.

"My father," she began after another short silence, "I have a favor to
ask of thee."

"And what may that be, my daughter?" he returned gravely.

But again the young girl made no answer and for many minutes they
watched the tremulous paths of light in the wake of the vessel.

After a time he felt her hand tighten upon his arm.

"It is but the old boon over again, my father." Her voice was low as the
sighing of the wind among the oak trees. "I would be freed from my
promise to wed with Don Cabrillo."

An Indian is not given to caresses. Much more used was Torquam's hand to
wield the war-club or the hatchet. Yet it was with fingers gentle as any
woman's that he stroked the smooth black head at his knee.

"Doubtest thou then, my motherless one, the judgment of him who loves
thee?" he asked.

"I doubt it not, my father," answered his daughter. "Yet would I not wed
with the Spaniard," she added stubbornly.