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She listened to me very attentively and when I concluded she laughed and said: “Let this be a lesson to you not to fall in love with women whom you do not know.”

“Do not think for a moment,” I answered, “that I’ve invented this story.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt the truth of it. Perhaps there may be a mysterious woman in the Hotel of the Seven Planets of Granada, and perhaps she doesn’t resemble the one your friend fell in love with in Sevilla. So far as I am concerned, there is no risk of my falling in love with anyone, for I never speak three times to the same man.”

“Senora! That is equivalent to telling me that you refuse to see me again!”

“No, I only wish to inform you that I leave Granada to-morrow, and it is probable that we will never meet again.”

“Never? You told me that during our memorable ride in the stagecoach, and you see that you are not a good prophet.”

I noticed that she had become very pale. She rose from the table abruptly, saying: “Well, let us leave that to Fate. For my part I repeat that I am bidding you an eternal farewell.”

She said these last words very solemnly, and then with a graceful bow, turned and ascended the stairway which led to the upper story of the hotel.

I confess that I was somewhat annoyed at the disdainful way in which she seemed to have terminated our acquaintance, yet this feeling was lost in the pity I felt for her when I noted her expression of suffering.

We had met for the last time. Would to God that it had been for the last time! Man proposes, but God disposes.

V

A few days later business affairs brought me to the town wherein resided my friend Judge Zarco. I found him as lonely and as sad as at the time of my last visit. He had been able to find out nothing about Blanca, but he could not forget her for a moment. Unquestionably this woman was his fate; his heaven or his hell, as the unfortunate man was accustomed to saying.

We were soon to learn that his judicial superstition was to be fully justified.

The evening of the day of my arrival we were seated in his office, reading the last reports of the police, who had been vainly attempting to trace Gabriela, when an officer entered and handed the judge a note which read as follows:

“In the Hotel of the Lion there is a lady who wishes to speak to Judge Zarco.”

“Who brought this?” asked the judge.

“A servant.”

“Who sent him?”

“He gave no name.”

The judge looked thoughtfully at the smoke of his cigar for a few moments, and then said: “A woman! To see me? I don’t know why, but this thing frightens me. What do you think of it, Philip?”

“That it is your duty as a judge to answer the call, of course. Perhaps she may be able to give you some information in regard to Gabriela.”

“You are right,” answered Zarco, rising. He put a revolver in his pocket, threw his cloak over his shoulders and went out.

Two hours later he returned.

I saw at once by his face that some great happiness must have come to him. He put his arms about me and embraced me convulsively, exclaiming: “Oh, dear friend, if you only knew, if you only knew!”

“But I don’t know anything,” I answered. “What on earth has happened to you?”

“I’m simply the happiest man in the world!”

“But what is it?”

“The note that called me to the hotel was from her.”

“But from whom? From Gabriela Zahara?”

“Oh, stop such nonsense! Who is thinking of those things now? It was she, I tell you, the other one!”

“In the name of heaven, be calm and tell me whom you are talking about.”

“Who could it be but Blanca, my love, my life?”

“Blanca?” I answered with astonishment. “But the woman deceived you.”