"I don't like the silence," Raul exclaimed.
"Shall I ride to Colima?"
"Wait till tomorrow. After breakfast we must work at the packing. Have the carriage in front of the house. Let's do everything to get Angelina off. Organize her guards, six or eight men. If we can get to Colima tomorrow, I'll see about Lucienne."
It seemed to Raul, as he helped load the carriage in the morning, that he might fall asleep as he worked. He had slept little. Even the rain did not revive him, a warm, pleasant rain, slanting in long, insistent lines. He had passed most of the night on the sofa in the living room. The clock had said: Tighten that strap; put that valise on top; go see about Angelina.
Someone spoke.
"Yes," said Raul, strapping a valise.
"I just came from Palma Sola."
"Yes," said Raul, looking at a rain-streaked, mustached face, with a scar over one eye.
"Doña Lucienne is all right and the hacienda has not been bothered. Federicka and some of her people are with Doña Lucienne."
The rain was a benediction after that: such a great weight had been lifted. He went into the house with a lighter step.