I could have laughed at that had I been in the mood for merriment. All Lima knew that Peru did not contain a stancher Royalist than Rosa Montilla.
"It is not of you I speak, but of the so-called Patriots, who are sedulously plotting for the enemy. Already names have been mentioned, and before long some of these people will be shot."
I think it was then she first began to suspect my meaning. Her eyes flashed fire, and looking me full in the face, she cried,—
"What is all this to me? What have I to do with your wretched story?"
My face was hot, my forehead clammy with perspiration. I mumbled out my reply like a toothless old woman.
"Don't be angry, Rosa," I said. "I hate to give you pain, but—but—can't you understand?"
"No," replied she calmly; "I understand nothing."
"I wish to warn you," I continued desperately—"to put you on your guard. There is a rumour—I heard it in camp, but I do not vouch for its truth—"
"Come, make an end of this," she said haughtily, "or allow me to proceed to the house. What is this rumour which seems to have tied your tongue so?"
"I will tell you. It is said that the leader of the conspiracy is Don Felipe Montilla! Let me—"