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of his gaze-a fire such as she had seen in the depths of the emeralds.
" Oh, no! no!" she exclaimed impulsively.
" It is true," Don Miguel affirmed. "Surely you cannot be so modest as to think that I could be with you day after day, that I could see you, listen to you, talk to you and not fall in love with you? Do you not know how attractive you are?"
" No, of course not."
In spite of her distress at what he was saying, Lizbeth could not prevent the dimples appearing in her cheeks.
" You are lovely-you are entrancing-you enchant me every moment I am with you," the Spaniard said. "You are English and, before, I believed that all English women were cold and staid and very, very dull ; but you are like quicksilver, your hair draws me as the warmth of a real fire draws a man who is cold. I need your warmth, little Lizbeth. I am lonely and cold and far from home. I need you."
Lizbeth put her hands to her ears.
" This is wrong. You must not talk to me like this. I must not listen to you."
" Why not when we are both lonely people?" Don Miguel asked. He came a little nearer to her as she spoke, and now to answer him she must look up at him.
He was very much taller than she, yet as she saw his face, soft and tender with his longing and his love, she felt a sudden desire to put her arms around him and hold him close. He was only a boy after all-a boy like Francis, far from home, being brave and keeping a stiff upper lip under the most difficult circumstances in which a man could find himself-a prisoner in his own ship with no one of his own nationality to speak to or to keep him company.
For a moment Lizbeth forgot that he was an enemy, forgot his secrecy about the jewels and even her surprise at hearing that he loved her. She remembered only that he was young and lonely and that she had thought not once but many times that he was making the best of an almost insupportable position.
" Poor Miguel," she said, using his name for the first time before she could stop herself. "I wish I could help you."
She spoke from the depth of her heart and only as she saw

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the expression on his face did she realize the construction he might put on her kindness.
Before she could say anything more, before she could prevent his doing so, he had swept her into his arms. She felt his strength for the first time and was surprised at it because she had not thought of him as a man; and then his lips were on hers, and he was kissing her tenderly, yet with a demanding passion which took her breath away.