Her black eyes snapped suddenly with suspicion, she drew in her breath, and closed her little mouth firmly.

Then she began a crescendo.
Mother of God! was that all?
Was he a child, to be sent away for such time or for such purpose as best pleased the fathers?
Was he to know no more than that?
With such gifts as God had given him, was he not at least to have some word in disposing of them?
Ah! SHE would not stand it.
The boy gazed admiringly at the piquant energy of the little figure before him, and envied her courage.

"It is the mestizo blood," he murmured to himself.

Then aloud, "Thou shouldst have been a man, 'Nita." "And thou a woman." "Or a priest.

Eh, what is that ?" They had both risen, Juanita defiantly, her black braids flying as she wheeled and suddenly faced the thicket, Francisco clinging to her with trembling hands and whitened lips.