“I hope so,” smiled her father. “But do you love him? An honest answer, if you please.”
“Could I love a rebel?”
“No Yankee answers, muchacha. Do you love Juan Valdez?”
It was Valdez that broke triumphantly the moment’s silence that followed. “She does. She does. I claim the consent of silence.”
But victory spoke too prematurely in his voice. Cried the proud Spanish girl passionately: “I hate him!”
Megales understood the quality of her hate, and beckoned to his future son-in-law. “I have some arrangements to make for our journey to-night. Would it distress you, señor, if I were to leave you for a while?”
He slipped out and left them alone.
“Well?” asked O’Halloran, who had remained in the corridor.
“I think, Señor Dictator, I shall have to make the trip with only General Carlo for a companion,” answered the Spaniard.
The Irishman swung his hat. “Hip, hip, hurrah! You’re a gentleman I could find it in me heart to both love and hate, governor.”