"I am too old either to help or hinder. Do your will."
"Who is in your house? Answer plainly, and with no more sneering," he said, in a truculent voice.
"The house is small to search; and there is none to resist."
"Well, no matter; I'll soon know;" and, giving some order which I could not catch, he came along the passage, and, pushing the door wide open, entered. "Ah, it is true, and you are here, Sarita. I could scarcely believe it true. Who else is in the house?"
"For one there is a swaggering bully of old women, and his name is Colonel Juan Livenza," answered Sarita, scornfully. "Another is the good woman of the house whom you found it so easy and safe to insult."
"Thank you for that," he cried, stung to anger. "And I'll show my gratitude by taking good care of all we find here."
"Like the gallant gentleman and King's officer that you are."
"I won't let your gibes anger me," he said. "It is for you I came; and I must speak with you. I have come in friendship."
"I have no wish to speak with you. I am ready to go at once. I can be your prisoner, but not your friend; the saints forbid that!" she cried, with intense bitterness. And I saw the purpose in a flash. To get him and his men away with her so that I might escape. And I blessed her for the thought, even while I resolved to frustrate it. I had another plan, and all unwittingly Livenza helped me.
"I intend to speak to you and have an understanding, and we can have it here without fear of interruption," he said.
"You were ever a chivalrous gentleman," she retorted, trying hard to goad him to anger.
But he paid no heed to the sneer, and, going to the door, called up one of his men and ordered him to keep the house surrounded, but not to disturb him. Then he closed the door, locked it, and put the key in his pocket, and, feeling secure, said, "Now we can talk, Sarita, without any to overhear us."
"A very prudent precaution, Colonel Livenza, and one for which I am infinitely obliged to you," I said quietly, as I pushed open the door of the cupboard and stepped out, revolver in hand.
The look of exultant triumph changed to one of craven fear, as he gave a violent start and stared at me, his lips livid, and his face white with the whiteness of death. He tried to answer, but for the moment could force no words, and his lips moved in a soundless question inspired by his overpowering dismay at my appearance.