Outward circumstance was rather against Fitz. A clear, odorous
Spanish night, the young moon rising behind the pines, a thousand
dreamy tropic scents filling the air. And Eve, half tearful, wholly
lovable, standing before him, innocently treading on dangerous
ground, guilelessly asking him to love her.

She, having grown almost to womanhood, pure as the flowers of the
field, ignorant, a child, knew nothing of what she was doing. She
merely gave way to the instinct that was growing within her--the
instinct that made her turn to this man, claiming his strength, his
tenderness, his capability, as given to him for her use and for her
happiness.

"You must not avoid me," she said. "Why do you do it? Have I done
anything you dislike? I have no one to speak to, no one who
understands, but you. There is the padre, of course--and nurse; but
they do not understand. They are--so OLD! Let me stay here with
you until it is time to go to bed, will you?"

"Of course," he answered quietly. "If you care to. To-morrow I
should think we shall hear from your uncle. He may come by the boat
sailing from Barcelona to-morrow night. It will be a good thing if
he does; you see, I must get back to my ship."

"You said she would not be ready for sea till next month."

"No, but there is discipline to be thought of."

He looked past her, up to the stars, with a scrutinising maritime