"It is bullet-proof," he said.
At the sight of this formidable-looking wall Raquel's colour vanished, as if it were a menace and not a protection, but not for long. Her cheek flushed again. She laughed aloud, her eyes sparkled. She was like a little child with a new toy, as she ran about and examined into the secrets of this innocent-looking fortress.
"Gil! Gil!" she cried, "what a charming prison! How delightful it will be to hear Escobeda's bullets rattling on the outside while we sit calmly here drinking our tea."
"Perhaps we can find something even more attractive in the way of refreshment." Silencio had not forgotten the cup which had neither inebriated nor cheered.
"I see now that you have no windows. At first I wondered. How long should we be safe here? Could he break in the door?"
Silencio bit his lip.
"Not the outer door. And the door leading into the house—well, even Escobeda would hardly—I may as well tell you the truth, Raquel. Sit down there, child, and listen."
The young wife perched herself upon the tall stool that stood before the white desk, her lips parted in a delicious smile. The rose behind her ear fell forward. She took it in her fingers, kissed it, and leaping lightly from her seat, ran to Silencio and thrust it through the buttonhole of his coat. Then she ran back and perched herself again upon her stool.
"Go on," she said, "I am ready." And then, womanlike, not waiting for him to speak, she asked the question, "Is he coming to-night, Gil?"