"That is not true!" Evelyn said vehemently. "If he had any cause to be anxious, he would let no business stand in the way!"

"Ah! I admit I find this interesting."

Gomez looked so satisfied that Evelyn feared she had blundered, though she could not see how. Her heart beat fast and her nerves were tensely strung, but she knew that she must be calm. The man was her antagonist and she was fighting in the dark.

"Well," she said, "since my father has not arrived, I will go to him."

"I am afraid that is impossible. It is a long way to Villa Paz and the country is disturbed."

"Do you mean to prevent my going?"

"Far from it, senorita. You are at liberty to do what you wish; but unfortunately, I cannot provide mules and an escort. There are some dangerous revolutionaries among the hills. Then, I must remind you that our people dislike foreigners, and a lady cannot travel alone and without money."

Evelyn felt trapped.

"How do you _know_ I haven't money? Because it was stolen in this house!

You must lend me some--my father will repay it."

"Your pardon, senorita, but you are mistaken; I can answer for the honesty of my servants. I would lend you money, only that I cannot permit you to make a journey I know is dangerous."

The girl sat still and there was silence for a few moments while she tried to brace herself. She felt that she was at the man's mercy, for there was something threatening behind his suave politeness, and his smile indicated that he was amused by her futile struggles. For all that, she must keep up the fight.

"Then what is to be done?" she asked.

"I suggest that you write to the senor Cliffe and tell him where you are. If you add that you do not feel safe, he will, no doubt, join you as soon as possible. Although it may reflect upon our care of you, we will see that he gets the letter."

It seemed a simple course, but Evelyn was on her guard. She must match her wits against the man's, and he had shown a hint of eagerness that she thought suspicious. Having brought her to Rio Frio by trickery, why did he wish her father to know that she felt alarmed?

"I should be glad to write to him, but I do not see why I should make him uneasy on my account," she said.

There was something in Gomez's expression which indicated that he felt baffled, and she knew it might be dangerous to provoke him; but he exercised self-control.

"That is for you to judge, but are you not inconsistent, senorita? You show some anger and alarm when you do not find your father here, and now when I suggest an easy way of bringing him, you will not take it."

"Do you want him to come here?" Evelyn asked bluntly.

Gomez gave her a steady, thoughtful look.

"On the whole, that would suit us." He paused and added in a meaning tone: "It would facilitate your return to the coast."

Evelyn knew she had been given a hint that was half a threat and it cost her something to refuse it, although she felt that to do what the man wished might not be the safest plan.

"After all, it might interfere with his business if I made him leave Villa Paz before he is ready."

Watching Gomez closely she thought his calm was forced, but he bowed.

"As you wish, senorita, but you will think over it. And now I must leave you."

For some minutes after he had gone Evelyn sat with relaxed muscles and vacant mind, for the strain had told; then by degrees her courage came back. She was an American and must show no weakness to an antagonist of alien and, she felt, baser blood. Besides, it looked as if she had won the first encounter and she had resources which should prove useful. She had inherited her father's intelligence, and her social training had given her restraint and the power to conceal her thoughts, while a woman's quick, instinctive perception was an advantage.

All this, however, was not directly to the point. She had been decoyed to Rio Frio for some purpose. She shrank as she remembered Luisa Romanez's hints; still, she did not think Gomez was in love with her.

The fellow was a sensualist, but he had some advantage in view, and she had already suspected what it was. Now she began to understand the matter more clearly. Gomez and the President meant to use her as a means of getting her father into their power. She did not think his personal safety was threatened, but they would insist on his agreeing to their terms as the price of restoring her to him, and it was plain that she would play into their hands by writing a letter that would cause him anxiety. Evelyn determined that they should not have her help, but although she sat for some time with brows knitted and hands clenched, she could make no better plan than to remain quietly obstinate.

It was impossible to reach Villa Paz without money, and although she shrank from being left in the power of a man like Gomez, she thought his self-interest would secure her safety. She might, perhaps, get some one to carry a message to Grahame if he were on the coast, but she was reluctant to do so unless the need were urgent.

After a while she got up and went out into the plaza. People gazed at her curiously; some smiled at one another as she pa.s.sed, and a number of the women looked suspicious and hostile. For all that, she was neither molested nor followed, and when the sun got hot she returned to the house, where she spent the day drearily improving her knowledge of Castilian. It promised to become useful, but the fine language jarred her long afterward.

The week that followed tried her courage. She was, in reality, a prisoner, though subject to no open restraint and treated well, except that the senora Garcia regarded her with badly disguised hatred. Now and then she saw Gomez, but he was suavely courteous and said nothing of importance. She got nervous and lost her color and her appet.i.te, but there was nothing to do but wait until Gomez, who apparently meant to wear her out, made some fresh demand.

One evening he came into the room where she sat and after a ceremonious greeting stood with his head slightly bent in an att.i.tude of respect. He was dressed in a white uniform which emphasized his stoutness and the dark color of his greasy skin.

"You look tired, senorita," he remarked.

"I am very tired of Rio Frio. Have you come to tell me that I can go away?"

"That you should be eager to do so grieves me, but I can, perhaps, make it possible. There is a proposal I wish to make."

"Yes?" Evelyn answered as carelessly as she could.

"You may find what I propose surprising; but I must beg you to think over it and you will see that it is not so strange as it seems. I have the honor to ask you to be my wife."

Evelyn shrank back in horror, as if he had struck her, and then with an effort recovered her self-control.

"This is impossible, senor; indeed, it is absurd."

"Your pardon," he said with ominous grimness; "I cannot agree. It is, I think, the best way out of an embarra.s.sing situation, but this is an argument I do not wish to use. I would rather speak of the charm you exercise and my respectful admiration."

"We can leave that out. I do not value nor desire it."

The man's dark eyes flashed, and Evelyn knew the danger of rousing him.

His Spanish polish was only skin-deep, and the savage lurked beneath.

For all that, she was desperate and meant to force the conflict.

"Very well," he said; "I must take another course. To begin with, it looks as if your father did not care what became of you. It is now some time since he left you at Valverde and he has not troubled to inquire if you are safe."

"I do not believe that!"

"Well, we will let it go. The rest is more important. It is known in Valverde that you did me the honor to run away with me."

Evelyn jumped up, with the color rushing to her face and her hands clenched. The prudence she tried to exercise had given place to imperious anger.

"You scoundrel!" she cried. "Do you think it matters to me what your black-blooded countrymen and women think! Your Moorish customs may be necessary for them, but I am an American!"

Gomez chuckled.

"There were two American _comisionistas_ at Valverde and they must have heard the story in the cafes. It is, you understand, a romantic episode: the daughter of a well-known financier elopes with a foreign soldier.

The _comisionistas_ talk about it when they return and your newspapers make the most of the tale. Some of them are not reserved or fastidious.

It is possible they print your portrait. One can imagine the astonishment of your friends, but the story would be incomplete if it did not end with a romantic wedding."