Rosa bent over him with shining eyes and parted lips. "Yes," said she. "Be patient. We will come back, O'Reilly, and to-night we shall be rich."
Colonel Cobo lit a black cigarette, leaned back in his chair, and exhaled two fierce jets of smoke through his nostrils. For a full moment he scowled forbiddingly at the sergeant who had asked to see him.
"What's this you are telling me?" he inquired, finally.
The sergeant, a mean-faced, low-browed man, stirred uneasily.
"It is God's truth. There are spirits on La Cumbre, and I wish to see the priest about it."
"Spirits? What kind of spirits?"
The fellow shrugged. "Evil spirits—spirits from hell. The men are buying charms."
"Bah! I took you to be a sensible person."
"You don't believe me? Well, I didn't believe them, when they told me about it. But I saw with my own eyes."
Cobo leaned forward, mildly astonished. Of all his villainous troop, this man was the last one he had credited with imagination of this sort. "What did you see?"