where she sat in the shade of a mimosa.

She raised her eyes for a moment--deep velvet eyes with something in
them that made his heart leap within his breast.

'And I love you, Estella,' he added. 'You may be offended--you may
despise me--you may distrust me. But nothing can alter me. I love
you--now and ever.'

She drew a deep breath and sat motionless.

'How many women does an Englishman love at once?' she asked coldly
at length.

'Only one, senorita.'

He stood looking at her for a moment. Then she rose and walked past
him into the house.



CHAPTER X. THE CITY OF DISCONTENT.



'En paroles ou en actions, etre discret, c'est s'abstenir.'

'There is,' observed Frederick Conyngham to himself as he climbed
into the saddle in the grey dawn of the following morning, 'there is
a certain picturesqueness about these proceedings which pleases me.'