"Perfectly."
"In that case, good-bye."
Five minutes later he had left the house.
[CHAPTER XXVI.]
SUNNY HOURS.
The small suburban house in which doña Dolores had found such a secure shelter between doña María and doña Carmen, though simple and comparatively unimportant, was a delightful abode, furnished very plainly, but with perfect taste. In the rear, a rarity in Mexico, was a small but well laid-out garden, full of shade and freshness, which afforded a charming retreat from the heat of the sun at the burning hour of noon. It was in these fragrant clumps that the young ladies hid themselves, to prattle and gossip at liberty, responding, by the sweet bursts of their laughter, to the joyous songs of the birds. Three persons alone were admitted to the house: they were the adventurer, the count, and Dominique. The adventurer, incessantly absorbed by his mysterious occupations, only made rare and short visits there. It was not the same with the young men. During the first days they had strictly conformed to their friend's recommendations, and paid short, and, so to speak, stealthy visits, but gradually led on by the invisible charms which unconsciously attracted them, the visits were multiplied, became longer, and inventing all sorts of pretexts, they at last came to spend nearly the whole day with the ladies.
One day, while the inhabitants of the small house had withdrawn to the garden and were gaily conversing together, a frightful tumult was heard outside. The old servant ran in great alarm to inform his mistress that a band of ruffians, assembled before the house, insisted on having the gate opened to them, threatening to break it down if they were not obeyed. The count re-assured doña María, told her to fear nothing, and after begging her and the young ladies not to leave the garden, he and Dominique advanced to the outer door. Raimbaut had accidentally come a few minutes previously to bring his master a letter, and his presence, under the circumstances, became very valuable. The three men took their double-barrelled guns and revolvers, and after making their arrangements in a few words, the count approached the gate, on which furious blows were being dealt outside, and ordered the old servant to open it. The gate was hardly opened ere there was an awful pushing, and a dozen individuals rushed into the zaguán with furious shouts and yells. But suddenly they stopped. Before them, at ten paces distance at the most, three men were standing with shouldered guns, ready to pull the trigger. The bandits, who were mostly unarmed, as they were so fully convinced of meeting with no resistance, and who only had the knives thrust through their belts, stood struck with stupor at the sight of the guns levelled at them. The fierce looks of these three men awed them; they hesitated, and finally stopped short, exchanging glances of alarm. This was not what had been announced to them: this house, apparently so tranquil, contained a formidable garrison. The count handed his gun to the old man servant, and drawing his revolver, advanced resolutely toward the ruffians. The latter, by an opposite movement, commenced to recoil step by step, so that they soon reached the gate; then, turning round with a bound, they rushed out. The count quickly locked the gate after them. The young men laughed heartily at their easy victory, and rejoined the ladies, who had hidden themselves, all trembling, in the thickets. This lesson had been sufficient; henceforth the quiet of the inhabitants of the small house was undisturbed.
Still, doña María, grateful for the service the young men had done her, not only did not think that they paid too long visits, but even when they proposed to retire, she invited them to remain. It is true that the young ladies joined their entreaties to hers, so that the count and his friend easily allowed themselves to be induced to remain, and thus passed the greater part of the day with them.
It was the day after the night don Adolfo had spent in supping so heartily with his friends; noon had long struck from all the city churches, and the young men, who generally presented themselves at doña María's at eleven o'clock, had not yet made their appearance. The two young ladies, who were in the dining room, pretended to be arranging and dusting the furniture, so as not to go and join doña María, who had been for a long time expecting them in the garden. Though they did not speak, the girls, while arranging, or rather deranging the furniture, had their eyes incessantly fixed on the clock.