The caballero felt his face growing red as he glanced down at the jug he held in his hand. The girl had scored again. He looked up quickly, hearing them start to move away, and for an instant their eyes met squarely.
“Bullet nor arrow can harm me now!” he exclaimed. “My heart already is pierced!” And, with that last shot, he turned toward the curb of the well, put his jug down upon it, and stood with his back turned toward them, laughing to himself.
He heard the girl gasp in exasperation, and exchange whispered sentences with her duenna. There was a step on the ground at his back, but not for the world would he turn.
“Señor,” a soft voice said.
He turned now, and swept his sombrero from his head again, and bowed low before her. Her face was still flaming, but she looked him bravely in the eyes.
“Señorita?”
“I feel that I must speak to you this once, señor. For the boasts you made concerning me, I forgive you freely, believing that they would not have been made unless you were in your cups. But surely you must realise that nothing can be accomplished by remaining at San Diego de Alcalá. The people dislike you, señor, and your presence is very annoying because of that. Will you not go back up El Camino Real?”
“That you forgive anything I may have said pleases me, señorita,” the caballero replied. “It shows you have a gentle heart, as was shown last night when you carried me food. I am desolated to think you have such an ill opinion of me. As for leaving San Diego de Alcalá—I cannot think of that just now, señorita.”
“Not even if I ask it as a kindness, señor?”
“Not even though you ask it, señorita—and I would do it for you sooner than for anyone else I know.”