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Updated: August 2, 2024
Hast thou had thy silly head turned with a kiss? Not one shirt shall go in this water." Mariquita tossed her head defiantly. "Captain Brotherton say the Indian women break his clothes in pieces. They know not how to wash anything but dish-rags. And does he not go to marry our Doña Eustaquia?" "The Captain is not so bad," admitted Faquita.
"But truly truly she has had no letter for three months." "Aha, señorita, thou didst not tell us that just now." "Nor did I intend to. The words just fell from my teeth." "He is ill," cried Faquita, angrily. "Ay, my probrecita! Sometimes I think Ysabel is more happy under the rocks." "How dost thou know he is ill? Will he die?"
When he recovered, he found that darkness was closing down; that he was in his own room and on his own bed, whither he had been brought by an ambulance party of his men; and that Mama Faquita, poor Senorita Isolda's nurse, had taken him in charge, cleaned and dressed his wound, and was looking after him generally.
The awful fascination of Pereo's upturned face did not prevent Faquita from tossing her head as she replied, pertly, that she was not there to defend her mistress from lazy gossip. "Nay, but WHAT said she?" asked the other attendant. "She said Pereo was to want for nothing; but at present she could not see him." A murmur of indignation and sympathy passed through the company.
"Aha, thou art very clever! But I have no wish to go back to the rancho and wash for the cooks. Ay, yi! I wonder will La Tulita ever give me her bridal clothes to wash. I have no faith that little flirt will marry the Señor Don Ramon Garcia. He did not well to leave Monterey until after the wedding. And to think Ay! yi!" "Thou hast a big letter for the wash-tub mail, Faquita."
"He, Koorotora himself! in the shape of a coyote." Faquita fell back with a little giggle, half of shame, half of awe. "It is ever thus," said Sanchez, sententiously; "it is what he said last night, when I picked him up on the mound. He will sleep now thou shalt see. He will get no further than Koorotora and the coyote and then he will sleep."
An intermittent crackle of rifle fire told him that the attack was still being pressed, but Faquita informed him that there had been very few serious casualties thus far, and that all was going well.
She kissed the old woman warmly, and for the moment Faquita forgot her trouble. But the child threw out its arms and moaned. La Tulita pushed the hair out of her eyes and brought the medicine from the stove, where it simmered unsavourily. The child swallowed it painfully, and Faquita shook her head in despair. At the dawn it died.
"I have come to you because you are in trouble," she said. "I, too, am in trouble. Ay, my Faquita!" The old woman put up her arms and drew the girl down to her lap. She had never touched her idol before, but sorrow levels even social barriers. "Pobrecita!" she said, and the girl cried softly on her shoulder. "Will he come back, Faquita?" "Surely, niñita. No man could forget you."
"It is well that she stay at home and does not dance away her beauty before he come. She is like a lily." "But lilies turn brown, old Faquita, when the wind blow on them too long. Dost thou think he will return?" "Surely," said Faquita, stoutly. "Could any one forget that angel?" "Ay, these men, these men!" said Francesca, with a sigh. "Oh, thou old raven!" cried Mariquita.
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