His words showed the futility of further argument. Without a word, but throwing back her head with a scornful gesture, the Señorita nodded to her friend to accompany her back into the gloomy building. Silently and slowly the two went up the sloping stone steps and re-entered the room which they had left a few minutes before. The Señorita locked the door and the two faced each other.
“What do you make of it, Manuela?”
“Only one thing can be made of it; it is as I said; General Yozarro is determined you shall remain here for some time to come and he gives no more thought to the foolhardiness of his action than if he were a child too young to walk.”
“What of the story of a war between the republics?”
“I do not believe a word of it.”
“Meantime, what are we to do?”
“Sit down, fold our hands and be good; but,” she added with a flash of her eyes, “that is the last thing to do; I long to meet my uncle face to face. It is the first time he ever offered such an insult to the daughter of his dead sister and to her friend. I hope he will not delay his coming.”
“I wish to be present when you meet; I, too, shall have something to say, which I do not think he will soon forget.”
But the hours wore slowly away and General Yozarro came not. Was he not shrinking from her whose fiery temper he well knew? Which of the two did he fear the most? The northerner may have been of cooler blood, but her anger, when once set aflame, was all the more profound. She abominated the man with his sleek smile, his oily manner and his tempestuous profanity when he thought himself beyond her hearing. She could not think that the other Dictator, with all his stupidity and grossness, was one-half as wicked as he. Were she free to do so, she would not hesitate to throw herself upon his protection.
“Where can Jack be?” she asked after the mid-day repast, and when the two had talked over every phase of the situation for the twentieth time. “Surely he must soon learn of this and he will be quick to call General Yozarro to account.”