"How dare you suggest I am a coward?" interrupted Myra, starting to her
feet. "Tell them nothing of the sort, Dolores. I am not afraid to
face them----"
"So we will be graciously pleased to accept the invitation," added Don
Carlos as she paused.
"Yes," said Myra. "Otherwise, I suppose, you will taunt me with being
a coward."
"I think I managed that rather cleverly, Myra," Don Carlos said, his
face crinkling into a mischievous smile. "I thought you would not
notice that I was giving my instructions to Mother Dolores in English,
of which she scarcely understands a word!"
Myra crimsoned in annoyance, but she made no retort, nor did she offer
any protest when Don Carlos, after a few words of thanks to the puzzled
Dolores, who scurried away, drew her hand through his arm and led her
through the corridors to the great cave.
Dolores had spread the news of their coming, and every man was on his
feet, glass or flagon in hand. Myra and Don Carlos were each handed a
tall glass of wine, and the band drank their health with enthusiasm,
shouting all sorts of good wishes. Don Carlos toasted them in turn,
drained his glass, and called to Myra to follow his example.
"Drink to me and to love, Myra mine," he cried.
Myra was so confused by the shouting and by the men pressing around
with uplifted glasses and flagons that she scarcely knew what she was
doing and hurriedly swallowed the wine.
"Thank you, beloved," said Don Carlos, drawing her hand into the crook
of his arm again. "We will go now."
Through the corridors they went again, and Myra's heart seemed to miss
a beat as he paused at her bedroom and opened the door. She looked up
at him with dread and appeal in her dilated blue eyes, to see him
smiling exultantly.
"Mine! Mine at last, Myra!" he said in a low, vibrant voice, as he
slipped his arm around her waist and drew her into the room. "The hour
for which I have waited and craved."
"Don Carlos, is it useless to appeal to you to let me go?" gasped Myra.
"Surely I have suffered enough without--without--this----?"
"Darling, why should you fear love now?" responded Don Carlos tenderly,
enfolding her in his arms. "Let me fire your heart with the burning
ardour of my passion. I have won you, and I swore I would, and I claim
my reward. Myra, mia, I want you--want you!"