"_Buenos dias, Don Juan_!"
"How is the Senora your mother to-day?"
"_Muchas gracias_, Don Juan! as usual she is. Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!"
"_Hola_!" exclaimed Don Juan. "What are you laughing at, Rosita?"
"Ha! ha! ha! Saw you nothing of the fine soldiers?"
"True, I did. I met the troop as I came down, going up the valley in a
gallop, and the Comandante riding far ahead, as if the Apaches were
after him. In truth, I thought they had met the Indios bravos--for I
know that to be their usual style of riding after an interview with
these gentry."
"Ha! ha! ha!" still laughed the little blonde, "but did you notice
nothing odd about the officer?"
"I think I did. He looked as though he had ridden through the
chapparal; but I had scarce a glance at him, he passed so quickly. He
gave _me_ one that was anything but friendly. No doubt he remembers the
loss of his gold onzas at San Juan. Ha! ha! But, dear Rosita, what may
you be laughing at? Have the soldiers been here? Anything happened?"
Rosita now gave an account of the Comandante's visit; how he had called
to light his cigar and get a drink of water; how he had entered the
house and been attacked by Cibolo, which caused the precipitate retreat
to his horse, and his hasty departure from the place. She was silent,
however, about the most important particulars. She said nothing of the
insulting speeches which Vizcarra had made--nothing of the kiss. She
feared the effect of such a communication on Don Juan. She knew her
lover was of a hot rash disposition. He would not hear these things
quietly; he would involve himself in some trouble on her account; and
these considerations prompted her to conceal the cause that had led to
the "scene." She, therefore, disclosed only the more ludicrous effects,
at which she laughed heartily.
Don Juan, even knowing only so much, was inclined to regard the affair
more seriously. A visit from Vizcarra--a drink of water--light his
cigar--enter the rancho--all very strange circumstances, but not at all
laughable, thought Don Juan. And then to be attacked and torn by the
dog--to be driven from the house in such a humiliating manner--in
presence of his own troop, too!--Vizcarra--the vainglorious Vizcarra--
the great militario of the place--the hero of a hundred Indian battles
that never were fought--he to be conquered by a cur! Seriously, thought
Don Juan, it was not an affair to laugh at. Vizcarra would have
revenge, or try hard to obtain it.
The young ranchero had other unpleasant thoughts in connexion with this
affair. What could have brought the Comandante to the rancho? How had
he found out that interesting abode,--that spot, sequestered as it was,
that seemed to him (Don Juan) to be the centre of the world? Who had
directed him that way? What brought the troop out of the main road,
their usual route of march?
These were questions which Don Juan put to himself. To have asked them
of Rosita would have been to disclose the existence of a feeling he
would rather keep concealed--jealousy.
And jealous he was at the moment. The drink, she had served him of
course,--the cigar, she had lit it for him--perhaps invited him in!
Even now she appeared in the highest spirits, and not at all angry at
the visit that had been paid her!
Don Juan's reflections had suddenly grown bitter, and he did not join in
the laugh which his sweetheart was indulging in.
When after a short while she invited him in, his feelings took a turn,
and he became himself again. He dismounted from his horse, and followed
Rosita through the garden into the house.
The girl sat down by the loom and continued her work, while the young
ranchero was allowed to kneel upon the petate beside her, and converse
at will. There was no objection to his occasionally assisting her to
straighten out the woof or untwist a fouled thread; and, on these
occasions, their fingers frequently met, and seemed to remain longer in
contact than was necessary for the unravelling of the knot.
But no one noticed all this. Rosita's mother was indulging in a siesta;
and Cibolo, if he saw anything amiss, said nothing about it to any one,
but wagged his tail, and looked good-humouredly at Don Juan, as if he
entirely approved of the latter's conduct.