Company? That was it. He was now walking along one of the streets of Vera Cruz with a squad of men of whom she would have decidedly disapproved, but whose character her husband would have understood at sight. Ned’s first acquaintance, Pablo, as he called himself, with his four comrades, made up so thoroughly Mexican a party at all points that it was in no danger of being interfered with by the mob. Every member of this had seen, often enough, the son of some wealthy landholder from the upland country attended by a sufficient number of his own retainers to keep him from being plundered, and it was well enough to let him alone. On they went, but it was by a circuitous route and a back street that they reached the Tassara place. Even then, they did not enter it by the front door, but by a path which led down to the stables in the rear of the house. No outsider would afterward be able to say that he saw that party of men march into the courtyard to be welcomed by Colonel Tassara and the mysterious personage whom Ned was trying to think of as General Zuroaga.
“He may be of more importance than I had any idea of,” said Ned to himself, “and I wish I knew what was coming next.”
He was not to find out immediately, for Zuroaga motioned him to go on into the house, while he himself and Tassara remained to talk with Pablo and the other machete-bearers.
Hardly was Ned three steps inside of the dwelling, when he was met by Señora Tassara, apparently in a state of much mental agitation.
“My dear young friend!” she exclaimed, “I am so glad you have escaped from them! Come in. We shall have no regular dinner to-day. You will eat your luncheon now, however. We are all busy packing up. We must set out for the country as soon as it is dark. The colonel’s enemies are following him like so many wolves! Felicia, my dear, you will see that Señor Carfora is properly attended to.”
The saucy señorita was standing a little behind her mother, and she now beckoned to Ned, as if she had no hostility for him whatever.
“Come right along in,” she said, peremptorily. “I must eat my luncheon, too. I want to hear where you have been, and what you have been doing. Is there any more news from the war? Have your gringo generals been beaten again? Tell me all you know!”
She was evidently in the habit of being obeyed by those around her, and Ned felt decidedly obedient, but this was his first intimation that it was fully noon. Time had passed more rapidly than he had been aware of, for his mind had been too busy to take note of it. He was hungrily ready to obey, however, especially concerning the luncheon, and his first bit of news appeared to please his little hostess exceedingly.
“Not another ship is in,” he told her, “and I don’t believe there is going to be any war, anyhow, but I saw some of your soldiers. They were guarding the American consulate from the mob. They were splendid-looking fellows. Is your father’s regiment of that kind of men?”
“Father’s regiment?” she said, angrily. “That’s just the difficulty now. He hasn’t any soldiers. Those that he had were taken away from him. So he must go and gather some more, or President Paredes will say that he is not patriotic. They took his old regiment away from him after he had made it a real good one. Tell me about your gringo soldiers. Are there a great many of them? Do they know how to fight? I don’t believe they do.”