Alaire stared at him incredulously.
"It is true. Mexico is a seething caldron of hate; the country is
convulsed. It would be unsafe for you."
"Do you mean to say that war has been declared?"
"Practically."
"What--? You are telling me the truth?" A moment, then Alaire
continued, more calmly, "If that is so, there is all the more reason
why I should lose no time."
"Listen!" The general was deeply in earnest. "You have no conception of
the chaos out there." He waved a comprehensive gesture. "If the
explosion has not come, it will come within a few hours. That is why I
flew to your side. Battleships are hurrying toward our coast, troops
are massing against our border, and Mexico has risen like one man. The
people are in a frenzy; they are out of bounds; there is sack and
pillage in the cities. Americans are objects of violence everywhere and
the peons are frantic." He paused impressively. "We face the greatest
upheaval of history."
"Then why are you here?" Alaire demanded. "This is no place for you at
such a moment."
Longorio came closer to her, and his voice trembled as he said: "Angel
of my soul, my place is at your side." Again she recoiled, but with a
fervor he had never dared display he rushed on heedlessly. "I have told
you I harken only to my heart; that for one smile from you I would
behead myself; that for your favor I would betray my fatherland; that
for your kiss I would face damnation. Well, I am here at your side. The
deluge comes, but you shall be unharmed." He would not permit her to
check him, crying: "Wait! You must hear me through, señora, so that you
may comprehend fully why I am forced to speak at this time. Out of this
coming struggle I shall emerge a heroic figure. Now that Mexico unites,
she will triumph, and of all her victorious sons the name of Luis
Longorio will be sung the loudest, for upon him more than upon any
other depends the Republic's salvation. I do not boast. I merely state
facts, for I have made all my plans, and tomorrow I put them into
effect. That is why I cannot wait to speak. The struggle will be long,
but you shall be my guiding star in the hour of darkness."
Under other circumstances the man's magnificent egotism might have
provoked a smile. And yet, for all its grandiloquence, there was
something in his speech that rang hard and true. Unquestionably
Longorio was dangerous--a real personality, and no mere swaggering
pretender. Alaire felt a certain reluctant respect for him, and at the
same time a touch of chilling fear such as she had hardly experienced
before. She faced him silently for a moment; then she said:
"Am I to understand that you forbid me to leave my own house?"
"For the time being, exactly."
"What? Then I am your prisoner!"
"No, no!" He made a gesture of denial. "How ridiculous! I merely keep
you from certain destruction. You cannot go by train, because the
railroad has suspended public service, nor can you ride or drive. I
tell you, señora, the people are aroused. For the moment you must
accept my protection, whether you wish to or not. Tomorrow"--Longorio
smiled warmly, meaningly-"perhaps you will not be in such haste to
refuse it, or to leave La Feria. Wait until you understand me better.
Then--But enough of this. You are unstrung, you wish to be alone with
your thoughts, and what I have to say can wait for a few hours. In the
mean time, may I beg the hospitality of your ranch for myself and my
men?"
Alaire acquiesced mechanically. Longorio saluted her fingers in his
customary manner, and then, with a look eloquent of things unsaid, he
went out to see to the comfort of his command.
Alaire sank into the nearest chair, her nerves quivering, her mind in a
turmoil. This Mexican was detestable, and he was far from being the
mere maker of audaciously gallant speeches, the poetically fervent
wooer of every pretty woman, she had blindly supposed him. His was no
sham ardor; the man was hotly, horribly in earnest. There had been a
glint of madness in his eyes. And he actually seemed to think that she
shared his infatuation. It was intolerable. Yet Longorio, she was sure,
had an abundance of discretion; he would not dare to offer her
violence. He had pride, too; and in his way he was something of a
gentleman. So far, she had avoided giving him offense. But if once she
made plain to him how utterly loathsome to her was his pursuit, she was
sure that he would cease to annoy her. Alaire was self-confident,
strong-willed; she took courage.
Her thoughts turned from her fears to the amazing reality of her
widowhood. Even yet she could not wholly credit the fact that Ed's
wasted life had come to an end and that she was free to make the most
of her own. Alaire remembered her husband now with more tenderness,
more charity, than she would have believed possible, and it seemed to
her pitiful that one so blessed with opportunity should have worked
such havoc with himself and with those near to him.
Doubtless it was all a part of some providential scheme, too blind for
her to solve. Perhaps, indeed, her own trials had been designed to the
end that her greater, truer love, when it did come, would find her
ripe, responsive, ready. As for this Mexican general, she would put him
in his place.
Alaire was still walking the floor of her chamber when Dolores entered,
at dusk, to say that supper was ready and that General Longorio was
waiting.
"Ask him to excuse me," she told her servant.
But Longorio himself spoke from the next room, saying: "Señora, I beg
of you to honor me. I have much of importance to say, and time presses.
Control your grief and give me the pleasure of your company."
After an instant's consideration Alaire yielded. It was best to have
the matter over with, once for all.