"When?" she asked.
"Any day now. But do not look so worried, dear Heart. I think that we need not fear Escobeda."
"But he will kill us, Gil. He will burn the casa."
"No. He might try to crush some poor and defenceless peon, but hardly the owner of Palmacristi. Still, all things are possible, all cruelties and barbarities, with a man like Escobeda. His followers are a lawless set of rascals."
"And he will dare to attack us here, in our home?"
The Señora's hands trembled as she moved the cups here and there upon the table.
"An Englishman says, 'My house is my castle.' If I cannot say that; I can say, 'My house is my fort.' I will try to show you that it is, when the time comes, but look up! Raquel. Smile! dear one. I know that my wife is not a coward."
With an assumption of carelessness, the Señora took a lump of sugar from the bowl and held it out to the penitent lizard. It came haltingly down the stem of the vine, stretching out its pointed nose to see what new and unaccustomed dainties were to be offered it.
"He has sent you a message, Gil?"