"Bueno! I listen. Proceed, Señor Veedor."
Rogelio drew near again and said, with difficulty, forcing a grin: "Now, in the devil's name, give heed; and forbear to fly off the bowstring until I have finished! What I've tried to get into thy pate is this. In a few days I shall have a guest, Pedro." He looked cautiously about and whispered, "A maiden, my friend—the fairest heathen in the land. I'll not say her name—he, he!—that shall be a secret. But, I would have a woman servant—one worthy of dependence, dost mark? Canst find me one? Thou 'rt known to the townsfolk, and I am not. What sayst? There will be some moderate compensation for thy time and trouble, Pedro,—moderate, mind thee, for I am a poor man; though," he looked about again, "I'll tell thee this, once I have her safe, there will be treasure untold at my command—Ah! Hum!—That is, Pedro, a fair sum—rather small, in fact—little more than enough for my requirements, for I have a fam——" He stopped short, snuffled, and went on hastily, "I'll pay thee, Pedro. Wilt find me a servant?"
Pedro concealed both his contempt and his suddenly roused interest, and after brief scrutiny of the tallowy face and protuberant eyes, looked away. "Why," he drawled, "for the time it hath taken thee to get it out, 't is a simple matter. Doubtless I can find a woman. I'll look about."
"Do so, my worthy friend," said Rogelio, rubbing his hands. "It will be worth thy while."
"No doubt," answered Pedro. "Adiós, Señor." He rode away.
"Dolt, lunk-head, clod-pate!" muttered Rogelio, looking viciously after him.
"Oily scoundrel!" muttered Pedro. "Slimy dastard." Then he chuckled. "Oh, give me but an hour, and I could work him into a fit! His rage striketh at his vitals. But, let us see! A maiden, the fairest in the land, and treasure untold! God's love! Can it be she?" He reined up, the better to think, and sat in study, his geniality of countenance giving place to grave concern. Shortly he rode on, still pondering.
Pedro's mission to the fortress was to see the sick armorer and warn him against Fray Mauricio, with the advice that José go straightway to Cuzco, where Pizarro would hold him safe. The Morisco was so ill, however, that he said nothing of his errand, and after an hour at the bedside, took his departure.
Pedro rode back much occupied with uneasy thoughts of Cristoval and Rava. He had heard nothing of their fate, and it was generally believed that they had perished in the mountains. After De Valera had been found in the canyon by his companions even the Cañares had lost the scent. Still Pedro hoped, and better, prayed with right good-will. Now he determined to watch for Rogelio's expected guest, his suspicion thoroughly roused by the morning's conversation.
Two days later he was again riding toward the fortress. On this occasion, however, he went beyond, making inquiries for the huasi of one Municancha, master-mason. Rewarded at length, he was received with distinction by the dignified Indio and his interesting family, to whom he made himself so agreeable that he was pressed to come again, the small children chasing the dust of his mule for many yards, with shrill farewell and reiterated invitation.