Alberto arose, huddled his blanket more closely about his shoulders, and came to the rider. "Several señoras and señors will be at the meal," he said in a low voice. In yet lower tone he added: "They are there to see the arrival of the English, and the defeat of the gringos Americanos—the Bostons." Bowing obsequiously, he glided over to his place on the threshold.
"Señora Valentino and friends are now at the castle, you say?"
"Si, señor."
Farquharson galloped back to the city plaza. He paused for a moment. The horse was restless in the chilly air. Its shod hoofs, clattering on the pavement, struck showers of sparks. He rode on a few steps, and stopped again, listening intently.
"'Tis only the boom of the surf," and started out briskly for the castle. On arriving he saw light coming through the windows, and heard the voices and laughter of men and women. Two or three peons bearing baskets appeared at the postern.
"I wish to speak with Señora Valentino. Tell her Captain Farquharson is here."
The señora soon was at the door.
"I'm here, Captain."
"Barcelo's in the sulks."
"As I expected."