"You are Pedro Valdez?" asked Rita.
At the service of the illustrious señorita. Yes, he was Pedro Valdez; in no condition to appear in such company, but nevertheless her slave and her beast of burden.
"Oh, listen!" cried Rita, her eyes softening with compassion and anxiety. "You have a wife, Pedro Valdez,—a wife and a dear little child, is it not so? and your mother—she is old and weak. When have you seen them all, Valdez? Where did you leave them?"
The man looked bewildered. "Leave them, señorita? I left them at home, in our village. They were well, all was well, when I came away. Has anything befallen them?"
"They are safe! All is well with them now, or will be well, when you go to them. They are near here, Valdez. The Spaniards broke up the village, do you see? Dolores and your mother fled with the little one. The village was burned, and many souls perished; but Dolores was so strong, so brave, that she got the old mother away alive and safe, and the child as well. They have suffered terribly, my poor man; you must look to find them pale and thin, but they are alive, and all will be well when once they have found you."
Seeing Valdez overcome for the moment, Rita hastened to the General's tent and told her story, begging that the husband and father might be allowed to go at once to the relief of his suffering family.
"And he shall bring them here, shall he not?" she cried, eagerly. "They cannot be separated again, can they, dear Señor General? you will make room for Dolores—that is the wife; oh, such a brave woman! and the old mother, and the dear little child!"
The General looked puzzled; a look half quizzical, half sad, stole over his fine face; while he hesitated, Carlos broke out hastily: "Rita! you are too unreasonable! Do you think we are in a city here? do you think the General has everything at his command, to maintain an establishment of women and children? It is not to be thought of. We have no room, no supplies, no conveniences of any kind; they must go elsewhere."
"They can have my house!" cried Rita, "Your house, brother Carlos, which you have given to me. I will sleep in a hammock, under a tree. What matter? I will live on bread and water; I will—"
"My dear young lady!" said the General, interrupting her eager speech with a lifted hand. "My dear child, if an old man may call you so, if only we had bread for all, there would be no further question. We would gladly take these poor people, and hundreds of other suffering ones who fill the hills and valleys of our unhappy country. But—Carlos is right, alas! that I must say it. Here in the mountain camp, it is impossible for us to harbour refugees, unless for a night or so, while other provision is making. Let Valdez bring his family here for the night—we can make shift to feed and shelter them so long. After that—"