At first it was difficult to understand what she said, but gradually the words swam out thickly through her tears, "Oh, I--I have done a--terrible th-thing--"

A flood of sobs broke through and drowned the rest. Her grandfather laid a gentle hand upon her head.

"There, Pilly dear," he said. "Do not cry, and tell me everything. Look up, child, and see. Your old grandfather is better tonight, and soon he will be quite well again. Are you not glad?"

This made Pilar raise her head. Her grandfather was speaking to her just as he had done before he had been taken so ill. It was true then that he was much better tonight.

"Tell me what happened," he repeated.

And Pilar poured out her whole story.

"We have had no money, dear Grandfather," she said. "And I have had to sell everything of value--everything out of my mother's chest of souvenirs.

"The castanets were the last to go. Juan had offered to buy them from me for a great dancing master, and today I was on my way to Juan's shop.

But I--I--stopped in the Murillo Garden--and--and danced--oh!"

"Go on, Pilly dear," said her grandfather patiently.

"As I was dancing," she continued, "a gentleman came up to me and asked to see the--the castanets. When I showed them to him, he said that he would like to buy them. He said that he was the dancing master of whom Juan had spoken.

"Oh, Grandfather, he offered me so much money for them, and I--I--"

"What did you do, Pilly?" asked the old man.

"I could not sell them, Grandfather!" sobbed Pilar. "I--I could not! I ran away from him. I ran away!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: TRIANA BRIDGE, SEVILLE]

CHAPTER XV

A STRANGER ARRIVES

"Do not cry any more, Pilly," said her grandfather. "You have done no harm by keeping the castanets. Perhaps you have done good. I shall tell you why later on. But first let us have our dinner."

Pilar tried to smile. She brushed away her tears. Her grandfather was actually hungry! Oh, this meant that really and truly he was getting well!

Pilar started toward the kitchen. She had planned such a splendid dinner for tonight, and now they would be obliged to eat beans and drink milk.

If only she could prepare her grandfather's favorite omelet stuffed with creamed fish, or a bowl of stew, made out of chick-peas, garlic, potatoes, sausage, peppers, and cabbage! But--

What was that white thing lying under the door? Pilar stooped down and picked up a letter. It was postmarked "U.S.A."

Now very few of Pilar's friends would have known what those initials meant. And even if they had been told, many of them would have shrieked with laughter and cried, "Only red Indians live there!"

But Pilar's grandfather had been in America long ago, and, of course, her mother had danced there.

The letter came from Antonio Santaella, and that was Tony--Tony, who had lived in Seville as a boy and was now an important merchant in America.

Enclosed in the letter, Pilar found paper bills--money--more money than Pilar and her grandfather had seen in many years!

Tony wrote that he would always remember Pilar's mother, known as "The Little Spanish Dancer." He also asked Pilar whether she, too, would become a dancer when she grew up.

Pilar's eyes shone.

"Oh, Grandfather!" she cried. "What a kind man Senor Tony is! How much I love him! How I wish to be a dancer like my mother! Shall we have eggs or stew for dinner?" She had said it all in one breath. She rushed to open the door on her way to market, adding, "I shall be right ba--pf-f-f!"

With a terrible thud, Pilar had b.u.mped into a tall gentleman who stood at the door. It was the great dancing master.

"Good evening," he said. "Are you Senorita Pilar?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: A NET MAKER, SEVILLE]

Pilar backed into the room. She looked like a scared little rabbit. What did he want? Had he come to take her castanets?

"Ah, yes, you are the Senorita Pilar," continued the gentleman. He came into the room, closed the door behind him, and sat down calmly.

"And this, I believe, is senor, your grandfather. No?" He smiled at the old man, who lay quietly in his bed. "You see, I found out all about you, senorita. After you ran away from me in the garden, I made up my mind to follow you, and I did."

Suddenly Pilar's eyes flashed angrily.

"You cannot have the castanets!" she cried.

She was standing in the center of the room, and her face was white with fury. Her small body was drawn up, rigid and tense.

"I'll never let you have them!" she screamed. "They're mine! Mine!

Mine!"

She stamped her foot and threw back her head. But the tall gentleman did not seem in the least disturbed. He just sat there looking at her and smiling as if he were watching a play.

Indeed, one had the impression that he might begin to clap at any moment. But he did not.

Instead, he just laughed good-naturedly and said, "What a little firecracker you are! And how graceful, too! Now, listen, child."

He had stopped smiling. He leaned forward and spoke to Pilar in a serious voice.

"Listen to me, Pilar," he said. "I do not want your castanets if you do not care to sell them to me. But--" He hesitated for a moment while Pilar stared at him, still with that look of anger and fear in her eyes.

"But I do want something else!"

Pilar's grandfather raised himself upon his pillow. "What is it that you wish, Senor?" he asked.

"The Little Spanish Dancer!" replied the gentleman. "I want Pilar!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: TOLEDO]

Both Pilar and her grandfather started. What was this man talking about?