"Yes."
"Where?"
He pointed down into the valley with his pen.
"Just above the bridge if it all comes off as they have planned."
She went out on to the terrace and looked down into the valley, which was peaceful enough in the morning light. The thin smoke of the pine wood-fires rose from the chimneys in columns of brilliant blue. The sheep on the slopes across the valley were calling to their lambs. Then Juanita returned to the library window and stood on the threshold, with brooding eyes and a bright patch of colour in her cheeks.
"Will you do me a favour?" she asked.
"Of course."
He lifted his pen from the paper, but did not look up.
"If there is a battle--if there is any fighting, will you take great care of yourself? It would be so terrible if anything happened to you ... for Uncle Ramon I mean."
"Yes," answered Marcos, gravely. "I understand. I promise to take care."