Pedro stared. "No!" he exclaimed. "And 't is the Ñusta Rava?"
"'T is she, and she a Christian, Pedro, as I live! And she calleth for Father Tendilla."
"For Father Tendilla! Then stew me, she shall have him! I'll fetch him."
"Fetch him, Pedro. Go at once." And taking him by the shoulder, the señora turned him toward the entrance of the court. "Make haste, and, Adiós."
Pedro went a few paces, and halted; reflected a moment, and returned. As the señora looked back he nodded toward Rogelio's dcor, and approaching it, rapped vigorously. There was silence, and he pounded again.
"Be off!" came a piping voice, not entirely steady.
Pedro pushed open the door, and heard a scurrying within. "Be off, woman! I'm armed. Enter at thy peril!" trebled the voice. Pedro thrust in his head. The veedor was intrenched behind his table, bathed in perspiration.
"Oh, thy pardon, Veedor! I thought thou didst bid me enter," said Pedro, and closed the door with a grin.
"Hold, good Pedro! Wait! Tarry a moment, I pray thee, my dear friend," called the veedor, but Pedro was gone. As he left the court the door opened, and Rogelio protruded his head, calling again; espied the señora across the court, and retired abruptly.
CHAPTER XXIV