But, despite all the general's efforts to please his guests, and excite them to amuse themselves, the festivities languished. The young ladies, generally so impassioned for dancing, refused all invitations; they preferred to remain talking together in the apartment reserved for them. The fact was, they were discussing at this moment a most interesting point, which had the privilege of arousing feminine curiosity to the highest pitch. The news of the French landing at Guaymas supplied the staple of the conversation.
"Good gracious!" a young woman said, with a charming smile, "will the English come here?"
"Doubtlessly," another observed; "but they are not English, Querida."
"Oh, you are mistaken, Carmencita. All foreigners are English, that is to say heretics; my confessor told me so."
"They must be hideous," a third asserted, advancing her head in curiosity.
"Indeed not, I assure you; they are men like others," the second speaker observed, a pretty brunette, with black eyes that sparkled with malice. "I spent Corpus Christi with my uncle at Guaymas, and saw them. Some of them, indeed, are very good-looking."
"That is impossible!" they exclaimed in chorus. "They are heretics!"
"They will massacre us."
"They are said to be very cruel."
"Their chief especially."