Megales turned her till her unconsenting eyes met his. "Do you
want to marry this young man, Carmencita?"
"I never told him anything of the sort," she flamed.
"I didn't quite ask what you had told him. The question is
whether you love him."
"But no; I love you," she blushed.
"I hope so," smiled her father. "But do you love him? An honest
answer, if you please."
"Could I love a rebel?"
"No Yankee answers, muchacha. Do you love Juan Valdez?"
It was Valdez that broke triumphantly the moment's silence that
followed. "She does. She does. I claim the consent of silence."
But victory spoke too prematurely in his voice. Cried the proud
Spanish girl passionately: "I hate him!"
Megales understood the quality of her hate, and beckoned to his
future son-in-law. "I have some arrangements to make for our
journey to-night. Would it distress you, senor, if I were to
leave you for a while?"
He slipped out and left them alone.
"Well?" asked O'Halloran, who had remained in the corridor.
"I think, Senor Dictator, I shall have to make the trip with only
General Carlo for a companion," answered the Spaniard.
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