While Stephen was talking with the Se?ora, a gong in an inner room clanged. “It is the time for our evening meal, Se?or,” she said, with a pretty little Spanish accent. After Loring had perjured his soul by swearing that he was loath to change his occupation for the pleasure of eating, she smiled at him mockingly, and led the way into the dining-room.
The Hernandez ranch was the largest in the Los Andes region, and the house was furnished and decorated in an elaborate manner. The walls of the dining-room were hung with gay pictures, and the table, set for supper, boasted several pieces of silver.
Se?or Hernandez presided at the table with true Latin hospitality, and Stephen, his previous protestations to the contrary notwithstanding, did full justice to the excellent fare, at the same time keeping up a lively conversation with the Se?ora. The men with him ate vigorously, the only break in their steady eating[181] being caused by glances at the pretty Mexican girl who served the meal.
After supper, Stephen and the Se?or went outside, and walked about the ranch, studying the possibilities of defense in case of trouble. At Stephen’s suggestion, they led the horses from the corral, and picketed them behind the house, as the first thought of any marauders would undoubtedly be to raid the corral.
Like most adobe houses, the ranch house consisted of a main building, with two wings running at right angles, thus enclosing three sides of a court. All the windows of the ground floor had iron shutters, fastening on the inside. The ground about the building was as flat as a board, and was broken only by the lines of the irrigation ditches which ran amidst the alfalfa fields.
“If we station a man to watch upon the roof,” said Stephen, as they returned to the house, “it will be all the precaution that we need to take. On a clear night such as this, a man can see far in every direction.”
“It will be well,” answered the Se?or. “And, this door here, it is a heavy one. It will be hard to break down.”
[182]
“I don’t believe that it will come to that,” laughed Stephen. “I don’t believe that we shall have any trouble at all.”
“I pray not,” answered Se?or Hernandez. His was not a nature which was exhilarated by prospective danger.
When they re-entered the main room, Stephen glanced quickly from the Se?ora to her husband.
“It is strange,” he said to himself, “how a little swarthy man like that could have won such a beauty for a wife. I suppose, though, that if she really loves him, she does not care if his ears are a bit like an elephant’s, his eyes too close together, and his nose as thin as a razor.” The husband of a pretty woman is not likely to have his charms exaggerated by other men.
They spent the evening smoking and talking. The Se?ora rolled cigarettes with the greatest deftness, and the smile with which she administered the final little pat did much to enhance the taste of the tobacco.
At ten o’clock the Se?ora rose, and after calling the servant to light the men to their rooms, bade them good night.
It had been agreed that Stephen should stand[183] the first watch. He insisted that the Se?or, tired as he was from two sleepless nights of worry, should not share his vigil.
Having exchanged his carbine for one of his host’s Winchesters, Loring mounted the ladder that ran from the hallway of the second story to the roof. It was a perfect night. The heavens were glittering with stars, and all was silent. Not a breath of air came from across the desert to cool the copings, which were still warm from the day’s heat.
Stephen leaned his rifle against the chimney, then felt in his pockets for a little sack of coarse “Ricorte” which some one in the town had given to him. He filled his pipe carefully, packing the tobacco down with his forefinger, till all was even; then striking a match, he held it far from him, until the blue flame of the sulphur burned to a clear yellow. He held the match to his pipe until the bowl glowed in an even circle of fire, and the smoke drew through the stem in rich, full clouds. Then, picking up his rifle again, he began a careful lookout over the plain towards the pass.
A fact which greatly facilitates the building of air castles, is that, unlike most buildings,[184] they need no foundations. The castles which Stephen built that night, as he paced up and down the roof, biting hard on his pipe-stem, would have done credit to a very good school of architecture. The general design may be imagined from the fact that time and time again he drew from his pocket a little crumpled envelope, and holding it close to the glow of his pipe, read and reread it. Once he carried it to his lips, and with a feeling almost as of sacrilege, kissed it. Then he turned sharply, for on the roof behind him he heard light footsteps and the tinkle of a woman’s laughter.
“Oh, but Se?or Loring is a faithful lover,” exclaimed Pepita, stepping toward him.
Even in the darkness, Stephen felt himself blushing up to his hair. He stammered, then laughed: “I plead guilty, but I am not generally like that.”
“It does no harm,” she murmured softly. “And the Se?orita, does she also care so much?”
“Not in the least,” answered Stephen. “The Se?orita does not even know that I care.”
“Oh, you think so? Women are not so—how do you say—? so blind,” laughed the[185] Se?ora. “But you have not asked me why I am here, Se?or.”
“No,” answered Stephen rather bluntly. In the light of his reveries of the past hour he felt rather ashamed of the little flirtation that he had carried on after dinner with the Se?ora.
“You need not be embarrassed,” she went on, laughing at his stiffness. “It was not to see the gallant Se?or that I came, though no doubt there are many who—”
Loring silenced her with an imploring gesture.
“No, I came to see if all were well. I was afraid that I heard noises,” she confessed.
“All right, so far,” said Stephen. “I do not think that we shall have any trouble.”
“Then I will again go down,” she said.
Stephen walked with her over to the ladder, and bowing low over her hand, whispered a low “Buenas noches!” As he helped her to the ladder, he looked into her eyes rather curiously. He could not understand their expression.
When she had her foot upon the uppermost rung, she said good night to him. Then, as he turned, she said, half shyly: “The letter,[186] Se?or; you will watch the carta of the Se?orita well?”
Laughing softly, yet not altogether gaily, she ran down the ladder.
“My husband, he is good,” she reflected. “Ah, very good, but he is as homely as a—monkey.”
Wiping two little tears from the corners of her eyes, she stepped quickly back into her room.
The time passed very slowly for Stephen. The clock in the courtyard below struck two. His rifle barrel began to feel cold in his fingers, as he fought against sleep. The night had grown thicker, and he could no longer see far out into the distance.
“It will be morning soon,” he thought. “I don’t believe that the Yaquis mean business this time.”
Even as he spoke, his ear caught a low sound. Then there was a silence. Doubtingly, he leaned far out over the wall, and listened intently. Again he heard the sound; again it ceased. Then once more it arose and became continuous,—very soft, but insistent, a solid, dull, irregular thud, as of many hoofs beating[187] upon soft ground. The blood in Stephen’s face boiled with quivering excitement. The hoof-beats came nearer and nearer, then stopped. The next sound that he heard was a grating click by the corral, as of some one slipping down the bars. He thought with lightning rapidity: “A shot will be the best way to awaken the men.”
Almost instantly afterwards he saw against the gray-white of the opposite side of the court a shadow, then another and another. Kneeling behind the coping, he covered the leader with his rifle.
The click of the action as he cocked his Winchester sounded to him preternaturally loud. He dropped the muzzle of his rifle a fraction of an inch until the first shadow drifted across the sights. He fired, and the shadow dropped. The flash of his rifle was answered from the dark by a dozen spurts of flame. All around him the bullets whined, or clicked against the dry adobe, sen............