down her bosom, as her hands had let it fall on the summons of the guard at her door. It gave her the appearance of having been interrupted in her toilet. The general was in such an urgent heat of vengeance that he would not spare her time to prepare to die.
The officer had his sword to his nose, a command on his lips. The priest fell back, to stand before the prison door with bowed head, eyes on the page of his little book. The guard closed in around the prisoner, the march to the place of execution began.
In the center of the plaza the two soldiers were bringing the cannon in place to command the road that came into the pueblo from the north. The horses were trampling with a great noise above the sad silence of the people, with a disturbance of yellow dust which rose like the pollen of wild mustard between those who stood waiting and the light of the east, where the sun seemed laggard out of pity. The drum in the barracks was still; soldiers were assembling before a certain door, which opened now to discharge General Garvanza, in green uniform laced with gold, his sword at his side.
"I cannot look!" said a woman, turning away.
The old mother whose mantilla had slipped from her ash-gray head sank softly to her knees in the dust. It was as if the leader of a flock of doves had settled down in a meadow. Scores of women bent to their knees, in a rustling of brocaded silk,
