“Who knows of that? It is believed Rojerio Rocha died a loyal man. You know differently, and your duenna, and myself. None ever will open lips to speak of it. None other ever will know, señorita. You can hold up your pretty head as before, and live, and be happy. At the rancho the months will dim the memories of this thing. Think, señorita! You have no need of me now.”
“No need of you?” she asked.
“Have you, señorita? Things are different now. No longer do you need the worthless caballero like myself. Could you hold up your head if ’twas known Captain Fly-by-Night held your love?”
“I could,” she said, “and proudly!”
“If the man who boasted had won you——?”
“Still, I could!”
“Gambler, thief—renegade——?”
“The caballero who saved me, and whom I love—none other! And no renegade!”
“Yet there were orders to take me, dead or alive. Think you these dead and wounded men will change the Governor’s mind? I swear I had no part in this revolt, señorita, but none will think so, except perhaps your charitable self.”
They were pounding on the door again, but the caballero gave no reply.