“No, I had not learned,” she went on drearily. “I thought that to carry a knife for myself made all safe––I did not know! I told you Juana Gonsalvo came for me very secretly to hear the last words of Juan. But I did not tell you we lived in the casita, little Lucita and I. It is across a garden from the hacienda, and was once a priest’s house; that was in the days of the mother of José. It is very sweet there under the rose vines, and it was sanctuary for us. When José and the German had their nights of carouse we went there and locked ourselves in. There were iron bars on the high windows, and shutters of wood inside, so we were never afraid. I heard Conrad tell José he was a fool not to blow it up with dynamite some day of fiesta. It was the night after their great quarrel, and it was a terrible time. They were pledging friendship once more in much wine. Officers from the town were at the hacienda with women who were––well, I would not go in, and José was wild. He came to the casita and called threats at me. I thought the German was with him, for he said Conrad was right, and the house would be blown up with the first dynamite he could spare,––but threats were no new thing to us! I tried to soothe little Lucita by talk of the wedding, and all the pretty bride things were taken out of the chest and spread on the bed; one rebosa of white I put over her shoulders, and the child was dancing to show me she was no longer afraid–––!
“That was when Juana came to the window. I knew her voice and opened the door. I did not want Lucita frightened again, so I did not let her know a man was dying––only that a sick person wanted me for a little––little minute, and I would be back.
“I knew Juan Gonsalvo had been killed because he had been trusted far enough,––I knew it! That thought struck me very hard, for I––I might be the next, and I wanted first to send those two children happily out of reach of sorrow. Strange it is that because she was first, the very first in my heart, I went out that door in the night and for the first time left her alone! But that is how it was; we had to be so quick––and so silent––and it was her hand closed the door after us, her hand on the bolt!
“Juan Gonsalvo had only fought for life until he could see me, and then the breath went. No one but I heard his whispers of the door of the picture here in Soledad. He told me his death was murder, and his last word was against Perez. It was only minutes, little minutes I was there, and the way was not far, but when I went back through the garden the door of the casita stood wide and light streamed out! I do not know how I was sure it was empty, but I was, and I seemed to go dead inside, though I started to run.
“To cross that garden was like struggling in a dream with bands about my feet. I wake with that dream many nights––many!––I heard her before I could reach the path. Her screams were not in the casita, but in the hacienda. They were––they were––terrible! I tried to go––and then I knew she had broken away––I could see her like a white spirit fly back towards the light in the open door. The man following her tripped in some way and fell, and I leaped over him to follow her. We got inside and drew the bolt.
“Then––But there are things not to be told––they belong to the dead!
“Perez came there to the door and made demands for Conrad’s woman,––that is how he said it! He said she had gone to Conrad’s apartment of her own will and must go back. Lucita knelt at my feet in her torn bridal garment and told how a woman had come as Juana had come, and said that I wanted her. The child had no doubt, she followed, and––and it was indeed to that drunken beast they took her!
“José was also drunk, crazy drunk. He told me to stand away from that door for they were coming in, also that he had made gift of Lucita to his friend, and she must be given up. Then they began to fire guns in the lock! It seemed a long, long time she held to me there and begged me to save her, but it could not have been.... The lock gave way, and only the bolt held. I clasped her close to me and whispered telling her to pray, but I never took my eyes off the door. When I saw it shaking, I made the sign of the cross over her, and the knife I had carried for myself found her heart quickly! That is how I took on me the shadow of murder, and that is why the priest threatens me with the fires of hell if I do not repent––and I am not repenting, Ramon.”
“By God, no!” he muttered, staring into her defiant eyes. “That was a fine thing, and your mother gave good blood to her children, Jocasta. And then–––?”
“I laid her on the bed among her bridal laces, all white––white! Over her breast I folded her still hands, and set a candle at her head, though I dared not pray! The door was giving way.