"Senora," he exclaimed, "what do you mean?"
"That I shall stab you to the heart if you molest me—that is all!" said she, as a gleam came into her dark eyes that vividly reminded Quentin of Baltasar.
"So, so, senora," said Quentin, with an air of pique, "you are certainly able to take care of yourself."
"I live in times when it is necessary I should be so," was the dry retort.
Quentin surveyed her with growing interest, for her beauty was very remarkable in its delicacy and darkness. She had a short crimson upper lip, that seemed to quiver with every passing thought, for she was an impressionable, enthusiastic, and high-spirited girl. After a pause,
"Now that you have done admiring me, I suppose," said she, "you will kindly say what we are to do?"
"How?"
"We cannot remain here among the leaves, like a couple of gitanos, or two rooks in search of a nest."
"We shall continue our journey to Portalegre, with your permission, senora; and now that you have recovered your hearing, and that I am not obliged to bellow like a madman, you will perhaps, if in your power, tell me where we are?"
Donna Isidora laughed and presented her hand; Quentin assisted her to rise, and on issuing from the ruined arch, she looked about her for some time.