LUIS LONGORIO_Heart of the Sunset

"You probably know why I wished to see you," Alaire began.

Longorio shook his head in vague denial.

"It is regarding my ranch, La Feria." Seeing that the name conveyed

nothing, she explained, "I am told that your army confiscated my

cattle."

"Ah yes! Now I understand." The Mexican nodded mechanically, but it was

plain that he was not heeding her words in the least. All his mental

powers appeared to be concentrated in that disconcerting stare which he

still bent upon her. "We confiscate everything--it is a necessity of

war," he murmured.

"But this is different. The ranch is mine, and I am an American."

There was a pause. The General made a visible effort to gather his

wits. It was now quite patent that the sight of Alaire, the sound of

her voice, her first glance, had stricken him with an odd

semi-paralysis. As if to shut out a vision or to escape some dazzling

sight, he dosed his eyes. Alaire wondered if the fellow had been

drinking. She turned to Dolores to find that good woman wearing an

expression of stupefaction. It was very queer; it made Alaire extremely

ill at ease.

Longorio opened his eyes and smiled. "It seems that I have seen you

before--as if we were old friends--or as if I had come face to face

with myself," said he. "I am affected strangely. It is unaccountable. I

know you well--completely--everything about you is familiar to me, and

yet we meet for the first time, eh? How do you explain that, unless a

miracle--"

"It is merely your imagination."

"Such beauty--here among these common people! I was unprepared."

Longorio passed a brown hand across his brow to brush away those

perverse fancies that so interfered with his thoughts.

In moments of stress the attention often centers upon trivial things

and the mind photographs unimportant objects. Alaire noticed now that

one of Longorio's fingers was decorated with a magnificent

diamond-and-ruby ring, and this interested her queerly. No ordinary man

could fittingly have worn such an ornament, yet on the hand of this

splendid barbarian it seemed not at all out of keeping.

"Dios! Let me take hold of myself, for my wits are in mutiny," Longorio

continued. Then he added, more quietly: "I need not assure you, señora,

that you have only to command me. Your ranch has been destroyed; your

cattle stolen, eh?"

"Yes. At least--"

"We will shoot the perpetrators of this outrage at once. Bueno! Come

with me and you shall see it with your own eyes."

"No, no! You don't understand."

"So? What then?"

"I don't want to see any one punished. I merely want your government to

pay me for my cattle." Alaire laughed nervously.

"Ah! But a lady of refinement should not discuss such a miserable

business. It is a matter for men. Bother your pretty head no more about

it, and leave me to punish the guilty in my own way."

She endeavored to speak in a brisk, business-like tone. "La Feria

belongs to me, personally, and I have managed it for several years,

just as I manage Las Palmas, across the river. I am a woman of affairs,

General Longorio, and you must talk to me as you would talk to a man.

When I heard about this raid I came to look into it--to see you, or

whoever is in charge of this district, and to make a claim for damages.

Also, I intend to see that nothing similar occurs again. I have delayed

making representations to my own government in the hope that I could

arrange a satisfactory settlement, and so avoid serious complications.

Now you understand why I am here and why I wished to see you."

"Valgame Dios! This is amazing. I become more bewildered momentarily."

"There is nothing extraordinary about it, that I can see."

"You think not? You consider such a woman as yourself ordinary? The men

of my country enshrine beauty and worship it. They place it apart as a

precious gift from God which nothing shall defile. They do not discuss

such things with their women. Now this sordid affair is something for

your husband--"

"Mr. Austin's business occupies his time; this is my own concern. I am

not the only practical woman in Texas."

Longorio appeared to be laboriously digesting this statement. "So!" he

said at last. "When you heard of this--you came, eh? You came alone

into Mexico, where we are fighting and killing each other? Well! That

is spirit. You are wonderful, superb!" He smiled, showing the whitest

and evenest teeth.

Such extravagant homage was embarrassing, yet no woman could be wholly

displeased by admiration so spontaneous and intense as that which

Longorio manifested in every look and word. It was plain to Alaire that

something about her had completely bowled him over; perhaps it was her

strange red hair and her white foreign face, or perhaps something

deeper, something behind all that. Sex phenomena are strange and varied

in their workings. Who can explain the instant attraction or repulsion

of certain types we meet? Why does the turn of a head, a smile, a

glance, move us to the depths? Why does the touch of one stranger's

hand thrill us, while another's leaves us quite impassive? Whence

springs that personal magnetism which has the power to set the very

atoms of our being into new vibrations, like a highly charged electric

current?

Alaire knew the susceptibility of Mexican men, and was immune to

ordinary flattery; yet there was something exciting about this martial

hero's complete captivation. To have charmed him to the point of

bewilderment was a unique triumph, and under his hungry eyes she felt

an adventurous thrill.

It is true that Luis Longorio was utterly alien, and in that sense

almost repellent to Alaire; moreover, she suspected him of being a

monster so depraved that no decent woman could bring herself to accept

his attentions. Nevertheless, in justice to the fellow, she had to

acknowledge that externally, at least, he was immensely superior to the

Mexicans she had met. Then, too, his aristocracy was unmistakable, and

Alaire prided herself that she could recognize good blood in men as

quickly as in horses. The fellow had been favored by birth, by

breeding, and by education; and although military service in Mexico was

little more than a form of banditry, nevertheless Longorio had

developed a certain genius for leadership, nor was there any doubt as

to his spectacular courage. In some ways he was a second Cid--another

figure out of Castilian romance.

While he and Alaire were talking the passengers had returned to their

seats; they were shouting good-byes to the soldiers opposite; the

engine-bell was clanging loudly; and now the conductor approached to

warn Longorio that the train was about to leave. But the railway

official had learned a wholesome respect for uniforms, and therefore he

hung back until, urged by necessity, he pushed forward and informed the

general of his train orders.

Longorio favored him with a slow stare. "You may go when I leave," said

he.

"Si, señor. But--"

The general uttered a sharp exclamation of anger, at which the

conductor backed away, expressing by voice and gesture his most hearty

approval of the change of plan.

"We mustn't hold the train," Alaire said, quickly. "I will arrange to

see you in Nuevo Pueblo when I return."

Longorio smiled brilliantly and lifted a brown hand. "No, no! I am a

selfish man; I refuse to deprive myself of this pleasure. The end must

come all too soon, and as for these peladors, an hour more or less will

make no difference. Now about these cattle. Mexico does not make war

upon women, and I am desolated that the actions of my men have caused

annoyance to the most charming lady in the world."

"Ah! You are polite." Knowing that in this man's help alone lay her

chance of adjusting her loss, Alaire deliberately smiled upon him. "Can

I count upon your help in obtaining my rights?" she asked.

"Assuredly."

"But how? Where?"

Longorio thought for a moment, and his tone altered as he said:

"Señora, there seems to be an unhappy complication in our way, and this

we must remove. First, may I ask, are you a friend to our cause?"

"I am an American, and therefore I am neutral."

"Ah! But Americans are not neutral. There is the whole difficulty. This

miserable revolt was fostered by your government; American money

supports it; and your men bear arms against us. Your tyrant President

is our enemy; his hands itch for Mexico--"

"I can't argue politics with you," Alaire interrupted, positively. "I

believe most Americans agree that you have cause for complaint, but

what has that to do with my ranch and my cattle? This is something that

concerns no one except you and me."

Longorio was plainly flattered by her words, and took no trouble to

hide his pleasure. "Ah! If that were only true! We would arrange

everything to your satisfaction without another word." His admiring

gaze seemed to envelop her, and its warmth was unmistakable. "No one

could have the cruelty to deny your slightest wish--I least of all."

"Why did you take my cattle?" she demanded, stubbornly.

"I was coming to that. It is what I meant when I said there was a

complication. Your husband, señora, is an active Candelerista."

For a moment Alaire was at a loss; then she replied with some spirit:

"We are two people, he and I. La Feria belongs to me."

"Nevertheless, his conduct is regrettable," Longorio went on. "Probably

evil men have lied to him--San Antonio is full of rebels conspiring to

give our country into the hands of outlaws. What a terrible spectacle

it is! Enough to bring tears to the eyes of any patriot!" He turned his

melancholy gaze from Alaire to her companion, and for the first time

Dolores stirred.

She had watched her countryman with a peculiar fascination, and she had

listened breathlessly to his words. Now she inhaled deeply, as if freed

from a spell; then she said:

"Pah! Nobody pays heed to Señor Ed. We do not consider him."

Dolores lacked diplomacy; her bluntness was often trying. Alaire turned

upon her with a sharp exclamation, conscious meanwhile that the woman's

tone, even more than her words, had enlightened Longorio to some

extent. His lifted brows were eloquent of surprise and curiosity, but

he held his tongue.

"Am I to understand, then, that you rob me because of my husband's

action?" Alaire asked.

"No. But we must combat our enemies with the weapons we have--not only

those who bear arms with Candeleria, but those who shelter themselves

beyond the Rio Grande."

Alaire's face fell. "I had hoped that you would understand and help me,

but I shall go to Mexico City and demand my rights, if necessary."

"Wait! I SHALL help." Longorio beamed enthusiastically. "It shall be

the object of my life to serve you, and you and I shall arrange this

matter satisfactorily. I have influence, believe me. A word from Luis

Longorio will go further with my chief than a protest from your

President. General Potosi is a man of the highest honor, and I am his

right hand. Very well, then! Duty calls me to Nuevo Pueblo, and you

shall return with me as the guest of my government. Dios! It is a

miserable train, but you shall occupy the coach and travel as befits a

queen of beauty--like a royal princess with her guard of honor." He

rose to his feet, but his eagerness soon gave place to disappointment.

"Thank you," said Alaire, "but I must first go to La Feria and get all

the facts."

"Señora! It is a wretched journey. See!" He waved a contemptuous

gesture at the car, crowded to congestion. "There is no food; you have

no one to wait upon you. In my company you will be safe. Upon my honor