At the farther end of the garden from them, Francesca walked by herself, seeming outwardly composed.
"It seems strange, doesn't it," asked Harry, "that such a fine girl can possibly be Don Luis's daughter ?" "She inherits her mother's purity and goodness, doubtless," Tom replied.
"Ouch!" grunted Hazelton, stumbling over a stone with which his foot had collided.

At Harry's exclamation Tom glanced up, then his eyes met a strange sight.
Lying in a cleft in the rocks, with his head behind a bush, and well concealed, lay the stranger whom the young engineers had nursed through an illness.
That stranger was intently gazing at the garden of Don Luis.
So absorbed was he that he had either not heard or did not heed the passing of the two Americans.
For a brief instant Tom Reade halted, regarding the face of the absorbed stranger.
"I didn't have an idea about you, Mr.Stranger," muttered Tom to himself, as he plodded forward once more.

"But now--now, I'll wager that I've guessed who and what you are.

Mr.Stranger, I believe that this one glance at your face has told me your story and your purpose in being in these mountains of Bonista!".