“God send they be so!”
“They have all the earmarks,––and look!”
They were near enough the hacienda to see men emerge from the portal, and one who limped and leaned on a cane, moved ahead of the others and stood waiting.
“It is an honor that I may bid you welcome to your own estate, Doña Jocasta,” he said grimly. “We have only fare of soldiers to offer you at first, but a few days and good couriers can remedy that.”
“I beg that you accept my thanks, Commandante,” she murmured lowly. “The trail was not of my choosing, and it is an ill time for women to come journeying.”
“The time is a good time,” he said bluntly, “for there is a limit to my hours here. And in one of them I may do service for you.”
His men stood at either side watching. There were wild tales told of Ramon Rotil and women who crossed or followed his trail, but here was the most beautiful of all women riding to his door and he gave her no smile,––merely motioned to the Americano that he assist her from the saddle.
“The supper is ready, and your woman and the priest will see that care is given for your comfort,” he continued. “Afterwards, in the sala–––”
She bent her head, and with Kit beside her passed on to the inner portal. There a dark priest met her and reached out his hand.
“No welcome is due me, Padre Andreas,” she said brokenly. “I turned coward and tried to save myself.”