The Irishman swung his hat. "Hip, hip, hurrah! You're a gentleman
I could find it in me heart to both love and hate, governor."
"And you're a gentleman," returned the governor, with a bow, "I
could find it in my heart to hang high as Haman without love or
hate."
Michael linked his arm in that of his excellency.
"Sure, you're a broth of a lad, Senor Megales," he said
irreverently, in good, broad Irish brogue. "Here, me bye, where
are you hurrying?" he added, catching at the sleeve of Frances
Mackenzie, who was slipping quietly past.
"Please, Mr. O'Halloran, I've been up to the office after water.
I'm taking it to Senorita Carmencita."
"She doesn't want water just now. You go back to the office, son,
and stay there thirty minutes. Then you take her that water,"
ordered O'Halloran.
"But she wanted it as soon as I could get it, sir."
"Forget it, kid, just as she has. Water! Why, she's drinking
nectar of the gods. Just you do as I tell ye."
Frances was puzzled, but she obeyed, even though she could not
understand his meaning. She understood better when she slid back
the panel at the expiration of the allotted time and caught a
glimpse of Carmencita Megales in the arms of Juan Valdez.
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