"You learned that song in New Mexico?" he asked, trying to speak in his usual quiet tones. "I suppose it is a popular air among the Mexicans?"
"Not a common one, though it is a Spanish song;" and she softly sang the refrain, "Ela—Manuela!"
Had she stabbed him to the heart he could not have turned paler, or sprung forward quicker, than at the uttering of the words.
"She taught it you! Tell me quick, for God's sake!"
He had clutched her arm, and was shaking her without knowing it.
"Gently, my dear brother-in-law," she said, sneeringly; and he shook the hair back from his forehead, and regained his self-possession by a strong effort.
"You wanted to know who taught me the song? My information has a price."
She had folded her hands in her lap, and was looking quietly into his face.
"Name it!" he burst out impatiently.