When Raquel had given Agueda the note and the kiss, and had seen her ride rapidly away, she closed the shutter. She made the room as dark as possible. She could not bear to have the sun shine on a girl who had written to a man to come to her succour. It could mean nothing less than marriage, and it was as if she had offered it. But what else remained for her but to appeal to Don Gil? If the few words that he had spoken meant anything, they meant love. If the beating of her heart, when she caught ever so distant a glimpse of him, meant anything, it meant love. She had received a note from him only a week back. She would read it again. Her uncle had searched her room only yesterday for letters, and she was thankful that she had had the forethought to conceal Silencio's missive where he would not discover it. He had ordered old Ana to search the girl's dresses, and Ana, with moist eyes and tender words, had carried out Escobeda's instructions. She had found nothing, and so had told the Se?or Escobeda.

"And when does the child get a chance to[Pg 61] receive notes from the Se?ores?" asked Ana, indignant that her charge should be suspected. It was the reflection upon herself, also, that galled her. "I guarded her mother; I can guard her, Se?or," said the old woman, with dignity.

"Do you not know that the young of our nation are fire and tow?" snarled Escobeda. "I shall put it out of her power to deceive me longer."

With that he had flung out of the casa and ridden away. It was then that Raquel had beckoned to Agueda, where she loitered under the shelter of the coffee bushes. After Agueda had gone, Raquel seated herself upon a little stool which had been hers from childhood. She raised one foot to her knee, took the heel in her hand, and drew off the slipper. Some small pegs had pressed through and had made little indentations in the tender foot. But between the pegs and the stocking was a thick piece of paper, whose folds protected the skin. She had just removed it when the door opened, and Ana entered. Raquel started and seemed confused for a moment.

"You frightened me, Ana," said Raquel. "I thought that you had gone to the fair. So I told—"

"You told? And whom did you have to tell, Se?orita?"

"I told my uncle. He was here but now. Oh! dear Ana, I am so tired of this hot house. I long[Pg 62] for the woods. When do you think that he will let me go to the forest again?"

Ana drew the girl toward her. Her lips trembled.

"I am as sorry as you can be, muchachita; but what can I do? What is that paper that you hold in your hand, Raquel?"

Raquel blushed crimson. Fortunately Ana's eyes were fixed upon the paper.

"I had it folded in my shoe," said Raquel. She threw the paper in the scrap basket as she spoke. "See, Ana." She held up the slipper. "Look at those pegs! They have pushed through, and my heel is really lame. I can hardly walk." Raquel limped round the room to show Ana what suffering was hers, keeping her back always to the scrap-basket. "If he would allow me to go to the town and buy some shoes!" said Raquel—Ana's espionage having created the deceit whose prophylactic she would be.

"You had better put on your slipper," said the prudent Ana. "You will wear out your stockings else."

"But how can I put on my slipper with those pegs in the heel?" asked Raquel.

"You had the paper."

"It was punched full of holes."

"Let me see it," said Ana.

"I threw it away," said Raquel. "Get me[Pg 63] another piece of paper, for the love of God, dear Ana. My uncle does not allow me even a journal. I am indeed in prison."

Ana arose.

"I will take the scrap-basket with me," she said.

"Not until you have brought the paper, Ana. I shall tear up some other pieces."

When Ana had closed the door Raquel pounced upon the waste-basket. She took the folded paper from the top of the few scraps lying there. This she opened, pulling it apart with difficulty, for the pegs had punched the layers together, as if they had been sewn with a needle. She spread the paper upon her knee, but first ran to the door and called, "Ana, bring a piece of the cotton wool, also, I beg of you."

"That will keep her longer," said Raquel, smiling. She spoke aloud as lonely creatures often do. "She must hunt for that, I know." She heard Ana pulling out bureau drawers, and sat down again to read her letter.

    "Dearest Se?orita," it ran. "I hear that you are unhappy. What can I do? I hear that you are going away. Do not go, for the love of God, without letting me know.

    Your faithful servant,       G."

"I have let you know, Gil," she said. "I am not going away, but I am unhappy. I am a [Pg 64]prisoner. I wonder if you will save me?" Ana's heavy tread was heard along the corridor. Raquel hastily thrust the note within the bosom of her dress. When the cotton had been adjusted and the slipper replaced, Ana took up the scrap-basket.

"Dear Ana, stay a little while. I am so lonely. Don't you think he would let me sit on the veranda?"

"He would let you go anywhere if you would promise not to speak to the Se?or Silencio," said Ana.

"I will never promise that, Ana," said Raquel, with a compression of the lips.

She laid her head down on Ana's shoulder.

"I am so lonely," she said. The tears welled over from the childish eyes. The lips quivered. "I wonder how it feels, Ana, to have a mother." Ana's eyes were moist, too, but she repressed any show of feeling. Had not the Se?or Escobeda ordered her to do so, and was not his will her daily rule?

Suddenly Raquel started—her hearing made sensitive by fear.

"I hear him coming, Ana," she said.

"You could not hear him, sweet; he has gone over to see the Se?or Anecito Rojas."

"That dreadful man!" Raquel shuddered. "Why does he wish to see the Se?or Anecito Rojas?"

[Pg 65]

"I do not know, Se?orita." Ana shook her head pitifully. It seemed as if she might tell something if she would.

Suddenly she strained her arms round the girl.

"Raquel! Raquel!" she said, "promise me that you will sometimes think of me. That you will love me if we are separated. That if you can, if you have the power, you will send for me—"

"Ana! Ana!" Raquel had risen to her feet and was crying. Her face was white, her lips bloodless. "Tell me what you mean. How can I send for you? Where am I going that I can send for you? Am I going away, Ana? Ana, what do you know? Tell me, Ana, dear—dear Ana, tell me!"

But Ana had no time or reason to answer. There was a sound of horse's hoofs before the door, a man's heavy foot alighting upon the veranda, the throwing wide of the outer door, and Escobeda's voice within the passage.

"Ana!" it shouted, "Ana!"

Ana arose trembling. "I am here, Se?or," she said.

"Where is that girl, Raquel?"

"The Se?orita is also here, Se?or," answered Ana.

The door was flung open.

"Pack her duds," said Escobeda. "She leaves this by evening."

[Pg 66]

"I—leave—here?" Raquel had arisen, and was standing supporting herself by Ana's shoulder.

"I suppose you understand your mother tongue. It is as I said; you leave here this evening."

"Oh, uncle! Where—where am I to go?"

"That you will find out later. Pack her duds, Ana."

Ana trembled in every limb. She arose to obey. Raquel threw herself on the bare floor at Escobeda's feet.

"Oh, uncle!" she said. "What have I done to be sent away? Will you not tell me where I am going?"

The girl cried in terror. She wept as a little child weeps, without restraint. "I am so young, uncle. I have no home but this. Do not send me away!"

Escobeda looked down at the childish figure on the ground before him, but not a ray of pity entered his soul, for between Raquel's face and his he saw that of Silencio, whose father had been his father's enemy as well as his own. He felt sure that soon or late Silencio would have the girl. He spoke his thoughts aloud.

"I suppose he would even marry you to spite me," he said.

"Who, uncle? Of whom do you speak?"

"You know well enough; but I shall spoil his[Pg 67] game. Get her ready, Ana; we start this afternoon."

"There is a knocking at the outer door," said Ana. "I will go—"

"You will pack her duds," said Escobeda, who was not quite sure of Ana. "I will answer the summons myself."

As he was passing through the doorway, Raquel said, despairingly:

"Uncle, wait a moment. You went to the Se?or Anecito Rojas. How did you get back so soon—"

"And who told you that I was going to him? Yes, I did start for the house of Rojas, but I met him on the way, so I was saved the trouble."

"Are you going to send me to him, uncle?" asked Raquel. The girl's face had again become white, her eyes were staring. There was some unknown horror in store. What could it be?

"Send you to him? Oh, no! Why should I send you to him? I have a better market for you than that of Rojas. He is only coming to aid me with those trusty men of his, in case your friend Silencio should attempt to take you from me. He had better not attempt it. A stray shot will dispose of him very quickly."

"Am I to remain on the island, uncle?"

"Yes and no," answered Escobeda. "We take the boat to-night for the government town. When[Pg 68] we arrive, it will be as the governor says—he must see you first."

Raquel understood nothing of his allusions. Ana cried silently as she took Raquel's clothes from the drawers and folded them.

"I cannot see what the governor has to do with me?" said Raquel.

"You will know soon enough," said Escobeda. His laugh was cruel and sneering.

Raquel turned from Escobeda with an increased feeling of that revulsion which she had never been able entirely to control. She had felt as if it were wrong not to care for her uncle, but even had he been uniformly kind, his appearance was decidedly not in his favour. She glanced at his low, squat figure, bowed legs, and thick hands. She had time to wonder why he always wore earrings—something which now struck her as more grotesque than formerly. Then she thrust her hand within the bosom of her gown, raised it quickly, and slipped something within her mouth.

Escobeda caught the motion of Raquel's arm as he raised his eyes. She backed toward the wall. He advanced toward her threateningly. He seized her small shoulder with one hand, and with a quick, rough motion he thrust the thick forefinger of the other between her lips, and ran it round inside her mouth, as a mother does in seeking a button or[Pg 69] some foreign substance by which a child might be endangered. Raquel endeavoured to swallow the paper. At first she held her teeth close together, but the strength of Escobeda's finger was equal to the whole force of her little body, and after a moment's struggle Silencio's note was brought to light. He tried to open it.

"It is pulp! Nothing but pulp!" he said, shaking the empty hand at her. Raquel stood outraged and pale. What was the matter with this man? He had suddenly shown himself in a new light.

"How dare you treat me so?" she gasped.

"You have hurt her, Se?or," said Ana, reproachfully. "Does it pain you, sweet?" Ana had run to the girl, and was wiping her lips with a soft handkerchief. A tiny speck of blood showed how less than tender had been this rough man's touch.

"If it pains me? Yes, all over my whole body. How dare he! Anita, how dare he!"

Escobeda laughed. He seated his thick form in the wicker chair, which was Raquel's own. It trembled with his weight. He laid the paper carefully upon his knee, and tried to smooth it.

"I thought you said she received no notes from gentlemen," he roared. Ana stood red-eyed and pale.

"She never does, Se?or," she answered, stifling her sobs.

[Pg 70]

"And what is that?" asked Escobeda, in a grating voice. He slapped the paper with the back of his hand into the very face of Ana. "Do you think that I cannot read my enemy's hand—aye, and his meaning? Even were it written in invisible ink. 'Gil!' Do you see it? 'Gil!'" He slapped the paper again, still thrusting it under Ana's nose.

"There may be more than one Gil in the world, Se?or," sniffed the shaking Ana.

"Do not try to prevaricate, Ana. You know there is not more than one Gil in the world," said Raquel, scornfully.

Ana, in danger from the second horn of her dilemma, stood convicted of both, and gasped.

"There is only one Gil in the world for me. That is Don Gil Silencio-y-Estrada. That is his note which you hold, uncle. It is a love letter. I have answered it this very day."

Raquel, now that the flood of her speech had started to flow, said all that she could imagine or devise. She said that which had no foundation in fact. She made statements which, had Silencio heard them, would have lifted him to the seventh heaven of bliss.

"He wants me to go away with him. He knows that I am imprisoned. He implores me to come to him. Be sure," said Raquel, her eyes flashing, "that the opportunity is all that I need."

[Pg 71]

Ana stood aghast. She had never seen Escobeda defied before. All the countryside feared to anger him. What would become of the two helpless women who had been so unfortunate?

Escobeda was livid. His eyes rolled with rage; they seemed to turn red. He arose from the chair, leaving it creaking in every straw. He clenched his fist, and shook it at the woman and girl alternately. His ear-rings danced and trembled. He seemed to be seized with a stuttering fit. The words would not pass the barrier of his brown teeth. He jerked and stammered.

"We—we—shall see. We shall s—s—see. This—this—eve—evening."

Raquel, her short spurt of courage fled, now stood with drooped head. Escobeda's anger seemed to have left him as suddenly as it had appeared. He threw Silencio's note on the floor.

"Ah! bah!" he said, contemptuously. "It sounds very fine. It is like hare soup: first catch your hare. Silencio shall not catch you, my little hare. His horses are not fleet enough, nor his arm long enough."

"All the same, I think that he will catch me," said Raquel, again defiant, with a fresh burst of courage.

Escobeda turned on his heel.

"Go to the door, Ana," he said, "and see who keeps up that thumping."

[Pg 72]

When Ana had shuffled along the passage, Raquel turned to Escobeda. "It may be a messenger from the Se?or Silencio," she said. "I sent him a letter some hours ago."

"And by whom, pray?"

"That I will not tell you. I do not betray those who are kind to me. You told me early this morning that I was to be taken away. You will see now that I, too, have a friend."

Ana's steps interrupted this conversation.

"Well?" asked Escobeda. "The messenger is—will you speak?"

"It is the man Rotiro from Palmacristi," said Ana, in a low voice.

Raquel gave a quick little draw of her breath inward. The sound made a joyous note in that cruel atmosphere.

"It will do you no good," said Escobeda. "Go and tell him that I will see him presently. I will lock you up, my pretty Se?orita, that you send no more notes to that truhan.[5] You have now but a few hours to make ready. Put in all your finery; though, after all, your new master can give you what he will, if you please him."