She did not need to ask the question. Her heart had given her the answer. She knew she had lied to save the man she loved.
There came a knock at the door, and she started up, hastily dabbing her eyes and trying to control herself.
"Come in," she called faintly, after a pause, as the knock was repeated.
The door opened, and Don Carlos entered. He was pale, but his dark eyes were shining with happiness.
"Myra, darling," he said huskily, and stopped, overcome by emotion.
He held out his arms…. Deep was calling unto deep. Love was calling. And Myra Rostrevor answered the call. She was in the arms of her lover, her conqueror, returning his passionate kisses with a fervour equal to his own.
"I love you, Carlos, I love you," she whispered between kisses. "I love you although you have been such a brute. If I had denounced you as El Diablo Cojuelo, what would have happened?"
"I should have confessed, then killed myself," Carlos answered. "Without you, beloved, life meant nothing to me. I staked all in the hope that you would prove you loved me, and I won! I feared that although I had made you mine I had failed to win your heart. Say again that you love me, dear heart, and will love me always."
"I love you, darling, I love you with all of me," Myra murmured, kissing him passionately. "I realise now that I have loved you for a long time, and was only afraid to confess myself conquered because I feared you only wanted to win me to gratify your pride…. Am I really your wife, dear?" she added, breathless and blushing, as she disengaged herself at last from his embrace.
"You are the wife of Cojuelo, or, rather the widow of Cojuelo, sweetheart," Carlos answered. "But now that poor Cojuelo is dead, you are going to marry Don Carlos de Ruiz, who has decided to give up playing at being an outlaw and devote his life to loving the most beautiful, delicious, adorable woman in the world. Kiss me again, beloved…."