A sullen, frowning man in soiled uniform was pushed forward, and
Dolores hid her face against her mistress's shoulder.
"Is this the fellow?" Longorio inquired.
Dolores nodded.
"Well, what have you to say for yourself?" The general transfixed his trooper with a stare; then, as the latter seemed bereft of his voice, "Why did you enter this house?"
Felipe moistened his scarred lips. "That woman is—nice and clean. She's not so old, either, when you come to look at her." He grinned at his comrades, who had crowded in behind old Pancho.
"So! Let us go outside and learn more about this." Longorio waved his men before him and followed them out of the room and down the hall and into the night.
When a moment or two had dragged past, Dolores quavered. "What are they going to do with him?"
"I don't know. Anyhow, you need not fear—"
There sounded the report of a gunshot, deadened indeed by the thick adobe walls of the house, yet sudden and loud enough to startle the women.
When Longorio reappeared he found Alaire standing stiff and white against the wall, with Dolores kneeling, her face still buried in her mistress's gown.