"Thou dost stir mine interest, Pedro," said Cristoval. "Who is the lady?"
Pedro laid a broad hand upon the table with suppressed vehemence. "Bolio!" he replied, as if nothing could be added.
"I know little save from hearsay, señor," he continued; "she was a _vivandera_ with the armies in Italy in her youth. Thou knowest that training. _Diablo_! I saw her in the Neapolitan campaign against Louis XII."
Cristoval interrupted. "What! Didst serve with Gonsalvo?"
"Then, by Saint Michael, we were comrades!"
Pedro nodded without surprise, and continued quickly: "She had beauty then, señor. Poor girl! She was learning, by hard experience, to hold all men her enemies. She hath not forgotten. I heard of her again in the campaign of ’22, and again at Pavia, where I left my leg. After that, no more until I found her here at Panama, two years ago. It is said she worked her way hither from Spain, disguised as a common sailor, and I doubt it not, for I have known of another woman who did as much. _Por cierto_, her eloquence was not gained in camps alone! It hath the savor of the sea as well, and she commandeth the most vigorous that each affordeth, my head upon it! But whatever her youth, Señor Cristoval, the saints preserve the man who would turn a soft eye upon her to-day. She weigheth, I should guess, some twelve or fourteen stone. ’T is all hostility!"
Cristoval reflectively gathered up his papers. "Well," he said, "we can pray for peace. Let us go."
"_Misericordia_! I think I had best ride back to my _hacienda_ for the night, _Señor Teniente_."
"Absurd, Pedro! Thou ’rt to begin thy duties in the morning. Come."
Accompanied reluctantly by the stout cook leading his mule, and followed by the halberdier, Cristoval led down a narrow, garbage-littered street to a large house built around the usual patio. It had been the residence of some officer of government, and its size made it suitable for the recruiting officer, the poverty of whose levies made it necessary to provide for their keep before sailing to join Pizarro. They entered the suggestively quiet court, and having seen that his recruits had made proper use of the kitchen, Cristoval gave orders concerning quarters for the night, and ascended to the second floor in quest of the señora. He found her alone in a dim-lighted, lofty, bare-walled apartment,—the salon of the establishment in its better days.