“A bluff wouldn’t do.”

“Who’s going to be married?”

“I am.”

Branch started to his feet once more, his mouth fell open.  “You? 
Nonsense!” When she nodded, his face darkened.  “Who is he?  Some
Cuban, I’ll bet—­one of these greasers.”

“It is poor Esteban.”

“‘Poor Esteban’!  Damn it, they’re all poor.  That’s the very reason he asked you.  He’s after your money.”

“He didn’t ask me.  I asked him.  He’s—­dying, Leslie.”  There was a pause.  “I’m going to marry him and take him home, where he can get well.”

“What will O’Reilly say?”

“I’m afraid we’ll never see O’Reilly again.  Cuba frightens me.  It has taken him, it will take Esteban, and—­that would break my heart.”

“Do you love him as much as that?”

Norine raised her eyes and in their depths Branch read her answer.  “Well, that ends the rest of us,” he sighed.  “There’s a Minister of Justice here, I believe; he sounds as if he could perform most any kind of a ceremony.  We’ll find out for sure.”

It so happened that the President and well-nigh the entire Provisional Cabinet were in Cubitas.  Leslie and Norine went directly to the former.  The supreme official was eager to oblige in every way the guest of his Government and her dare-devil countryman, El Demonio.  He promptly sent for the Minister of Justice, who in turn gallantly put himself at Norine’s disposal.  He declared that, although he had never performed the marriage ceremony he would gladly try his hand at it.  In no time the news had spread and there was subdued excitement throughout the camp.  When Norine left headquarters she was the target of smiles and friendly greetings.  Women nodded and chattered at her, ragged soldiers swept her salutes with their jipi-japa hats, children clung to her and capered by her side.  It was vastly embarrassing, this shameless publicity, but it was touching, too, for there was genuine affection and good-will behind every smile.  Norine was between tears and laughter when she ran panting into Esteban’s cabin, leaving Branch to wait outside.

At sight of her Esteban uttered a low cry of happiness.  “Dearest!  I’ve been lying in a stupor of delight.  The world has become bright:  I hear people laughing.  What a change!  And how is El Demonio?”

“He’s all right; he’s waiting to see you, but first—­I’ve arranged everything!  The President and his Cabinet are coming to witness the ceremony.”

Esteban poised, petrified, upon his elbow, his face was a study.  “What have you arranged?” he managed to inquire.

“’Sh—­h!” Norine laid a finger upon his lips.  “The guest of the Republic is to be married to-day.  Dignitaries, magistrates, nabobs, are turning out in her honor.  They are shaving and borrowing clean shirts for the occasion.  The Minister of Justice has a brand-new pair of tan shoes and he has promised to wear them, come rain or shine.”