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The sounds were muffled by the heavy wooden shutters she had taken pains to close and bar, but they told her that Longorio had returned. Since it was futile to deny him entrance, she waited where she was. Old Pancho's voice sounded outside; then there came a knock upon the door of the room in which she stood. "Come in," she said, tensely.
Of what her plan consisted he had only the dimmest idea, but he assured himself that it could by no possibility succeed. After all, what did it matter? he asked himself. They were trapped. This might serve, somehow, to cheat Longorio, and Alaire would be his wife. "Very well," he stammered, weakly. "What are you thinking of?" "I haven't thought it all out yet, but "
Longorio made good his promise; soon a grizzled old teniente, with six soldiers, was transferred as a bodyguard to the American lady, and then, after some further delay, the military train departed.
Your nation's protest would avail nothing. Outside of these walls are enemies who will not let you leave this house except under the protection of my name." "Then I shall never leave it," she told him. For the first time Longorio spoke roughly: "I lose patience. In God's name have I not waited long enough? My strength is gone."
"You'll get your name in the papers, and perhaps cause another diplomatically worded protest, but there the matter will end. You won't be paid for your cattle." "Then I shall go to La Feria." "No!" The Judge shook his head decidedly. "I've been there a hundred times. The Federals have always been more than courteous." "Longorio has a bad reputation. I strongly advise against your going."
Doubtless he is a bad man." "Can't you do something?" "Eh?" Longorio lifted his brows in the frankest inquiry. "That poor girl with her little, bare, brown-eyed baby was pitiful." Alaire leaned forward with an earnest appeal in her face, and her host smiled. "So? That is how it is, eh? What is her name?" "Inez Garcia. The husband's name is Juan." "Of course. These peladors are all Juans.
"He is a a thick, black fellow with a scar on his lip, like a snarl." "Felipe!" "Yes, Felipe! I believe they called him that." Longorio strode to the end of the livingroom, flung open the wooden shutters of a window and, leaning far out, whistled sharply on his fingers. "Oiga! Teniente! Ho, you fellows!" he shouted. From the darkness a voice answered; a man, evidently on guard, came running.
After a brief struggle with himself, the Mexican cried, hoarsely: "I will not be refused. You wish me to tame you, eh? Good! You have found your master. Make your choice, then. Which shall it be, surrender or compulsion?" "So! You have been lying, as I thought. Compulsion! Now the real Longorio speaks." He flung up his hands as if to ward off her fury. "No? Have I not made myself clear?
General Longorio fingered his wineglass and stared into it. "I am not like other men. Would to God I were, for then I could close my eyes and forget. You have your great tragedy it is old to you; but mine, dear lady, is just beginning. I can look forward to nothing except unhappiness." He sighed deeply. "I'm sorry you are unhappy," Alaire parried. "Surely you have every pleasant prospect."
"Yesterday I carried the mail to town, but as I rode away from Las Palmas the señora handed me this, with a silver dollar for myself. Look! It is written to the man we both hate." Longorio took the letter, read the inscription, and then opened the envelope. José looked on with pleasure while he spelled out the contents. When the general had finished reading, he exclaimed: "Ho! A miracle!
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