“It was near here, within a short ride, yesterday,” she said, “going to Anselmo, the place you asked about.”
“That is it,” he said. “If the army comes from the west and is marching east it must be Don Manuel’s army, going to save Carlotta. Is it a White army?”
“Yes.”
“Thank heaven,” he said, “Ezekiel Rust got through. You do not know, do you, whether the Reds have harmed one Señorita de Leyva?”
“No.”
“I suppose all the people here have gone to the army?”
“No,” the girl said. “One or two have gone.”
“Aren’t you Whites here? Are you Reds?”
“We have the work to do: it is the people in cities who have these quarrels.”
“But in this quarrel,” he said, “surely everyone must join.”