Captain Ramón bowed in mockery. “If you will be kind enough to glance through the open door, señorita, you will perceive that the fighting is at an end,” he replied. “What caballeros are not dead have been taken prisoners. And the women and children are mocking them. Go, hag, and mock with the others! I’ll guard the señorita well.”
He leered at the woman as he spoke, and she grinned and shuffled from the building. She was eager to get at Barbados and tell him how the señorita had attempted an escape, and how she, the loyal and faithful Inez, had prevented it.
“Into the storeroom, señorita!” Captain Ramón commanded when they were alone.
“I prefer this, señor.”
“Quickly!” he commanded. “We’ll close the door. We do not wish to be overheard!”
“What mean you?”
“Can you not understand?” the captain cried. He thrust her before him into the storeroom, and closed the door behind him. He darted across to the window and looked out, acting mysteriously.
“If you would rid me of your foul presence—” the señorita began.
Captain Ramón whirled toward her. On the long, hot ride from Reina de Los Angeles, which had taken him the better part of two days, and during which he had not spared mounts, he had thought out everything.
He was playing a sort of double game, this Captain Ramón. He wished to reinstate himself in the good graces of better men, he wanted to make the señorita believe that he had rendered her a great service and try to win her regard openly, and he wished to aid his master, the Governor, in acquiring credit in the southland, where he had small credit now.