"Nocobotha himself."
"Malediction!" the bombero said, "For five minutes I had him at the end of my rifle. Well, but come, we will talk inside."
"Oh!" Pedrito exclaimed, when Mercedes ended the narration of their expedition, "Oh, women are demons, demons, and men plucked chickens; and your letter?"
"Here it is."
"Don Valentine must receive it tonight, for the poor father will be pining in mortal anxiety."
"I will carry it," said Mercedes.
"No; you need rest. I have a safe man here, who will ride to the estancia. You, little sister, come into the house, where a worthy woman, who knows me, will take care of you."
"Will you go to Doña Concha?"
"I should think so. Poor girl! alone among the Pagans."
"Ever devoted, my kind brother!"