As Hi hove down the arm of the young woman, the imbecile began to coo at him, with symptoms of affection. Presently the Englishman, who was a tall, thin, hatchet-faced man, with little moustaches waxed at the ends, said: “That captain-man ought to be shot for sending a lady in such a state in a waggon like this. I have been here five years and this is my reward. My wife now is going to be sick. It is the fresh air beating upon her, in her present state.”
The old woman, who was drunk, here shoved her grandson to the tail-board of the waggon; the fresh air seemed to have beaten upon him.
“This is a nice way to send a lady to the city,” the Englishman said. “That boy ought to be ashamed of himself. As for that captain-man, I shall complain to the Government. It is a marvel that she doesn’t miscarry.”
“She’ll run a darned good chance of that,” the American said. “The Whites will be here this afternoon. There’ll be fighting in the streets to-night. So if you know a good snug cellar in a back street, get to it, pronto.”
Here the three children of the Englishman began to cry; their mother, who was a big woman with a white fat face and jowl, boxed their ears for crying. The drunken woman, having soothed her grandson a little, drank from a bottle; then, rising from the floor to her feet, tried to dance, lifting her skirts to her knee. All this time the waggon was swaying forward at a good pace on a rough road; the children were weeping, the Englishman was growling, the young woman was writhing and hysterical, the old man was motionless, the dying man gasping for air, and the man with the fever was shivering. Hi and the American were trying to keep the girl in one place. The imbecile, who had decided that he liked Hi, kept pressing close to him and patting the back of his neck. Hi, who had no free hand, kept warding him off with his elbow; but the creature, perhaps mistaking this for a return of affection, pressed back, cooing.
The girl suddenly shook herself free and shrieked at the top of her voice. She did not know what she was doing; all her young muscular body was out of control. Hi remembered tales in the Bible of people who “had a devil”; this young woman had a devil, or the devil had her. “Look out, kid,” the American called, “she’s into the hay-lot, your side.”
“Come back,” Hi called. “Be quiet, señorita; it’s all right. We’re all friends here.”
“Friends,” the American said, “I guess we are. It’s these darned Santa Barbarians who are the enemies in this land. They’ll knock my apple season galley west. Lie still, Angelita, lie still.”
“It’s all these hidalgos,” the Englishman said. “They cause the trouble in this land. What this land wants is to be opened up to free competition and progress. It wants white men. These priests and these hidalgos are fallacies; they ought to have been exploded long ago. If the English Government doesn’t step in, it ought to be made to. My wife is a Pinamente; one of the oldest families, if we had our rights; and here these soldiers, these fine jacks-in-office, send her in a waggon like this.”
“I feel for her,” the American said, “being of a darned old family myself.”