Silencio held his young wife close to his heart, he pressed his lips upon her wet eyelids, upon her disordered hair. He soothed her as a brave man must, forgetting his own anxiety in her terror.
"My peons are armed, Raquel. They are well instructed. They are, I think, faithful, as much so, at least, as good treatment can make them. Even must they be bribed, they shall be. I have more money than Escobeda, Raquel. Even were you his daughter, you are still my wife. He could not touch you. As it is, he has no claim upon you. I am not afraid of him. He may do his worst, I am secure."
"And I?"
"Child! Are not you the first with me? But for you I should go out single-handed and try to shoot the coward down. But should I fail—and he is as good a shot as the island boasts—Raquel, who would care for you? I have thought it all out, child. My bullets are as good as Escobeda's; they shoot as straight, but I hope I have a better way; I have been preparing for your coming a long time, dear Heart, and my grandfather before me."
Raquel looked up from her hiding-place on his breast.
"Your grandfather, Gil, for me?"
Silencio smiled down upon the upraised eyes.
"Yes, for you, Raquel, had he but known it. Come! child, come! Dry your tears! Rest easy! You are safe." As Silencio spoke he shivered. "Your tea has gone to my nerves."
He took the pretty pink teacup from the veranda rail, where he had placed it, and set it upon the table. He looked critically at the remains of the pale yellow decoction.