"How many, think you, Mañuel?"
"I can't tell, Inez; therefore we will not wait till the war is over.
The Padre is ready any time, and why not marry at once?"
"Sacra Dios! I'll do no such thing."
"And why not, Inez?"
"Because they might kill you, Mañuel, and then what would become of me?"
"You would be as well off then as now; there would be no difference, only you would be married. You will mourn, any how, if I am killed."
"How do you know I would?" Her Spanish eyes twinkled as she spoke; but for fear of going too far, she laid her hand on his shoulder. Mañuel turned sharply round.
"You deserve to be shot, Mañuel, for joining in a miff. Why didn't you tell me you were going to be a soldier?"
He grasped her hand tighter, but made no reply.
"I say, why did not you tell me first?"