“Why should I betray you?” said Alison. “Who are you, and why do you come here?”
“I am seeing the smoke, and I think my mother is here.”
“Your mother? Brigida? Then you are her son.” Alison’s mind was working rapidly. She looked at the man searchingly. Many possibilities arose before her. She perceived that it might be advantageous to detain him. “I will not betray you,” she told the man. “I know your mother; she loves you and I would not make her unhappy.”
“You are alone?” The man looked around.
“Just at this moment I am, but my friends will be here in a minute. You will have to hide somewhere. Are you hurt?”
“I am hurt.” He limped to the bench and sat down in evident pain.
Alison viewed him compassionately. “I wish I could do something to relieve you,” she said. “What is the matter?”
“I am pursued. I go with much hurry. I fall. I think I break the leg at the foot.”
“Oh, dear, that is bad. It should be set at once.” She saw difficulties to be overcome in getting relief for this man. “Perhaps it may be only badly sprained,” she said. “Who was it pursuing you, and why did they do it?”
The man remained silent and Alison, remembering that he was an outlaw, did not doubt but that some of her own friends were in pursuit, for it was he who was concerned in the thefts which Pike Smith had conducted. He knew where Steve was. At that thought her heart gave a sudden bound. “You are Carlos,” she said. “I remember about you. The time is very short before my friends will be here. I must hide you, for you cannot get very far away with that hurt. I promise not to tell where you are if you in return will do something for me.” She looked around the bare room but a possibility occurred to her.