"American general! peon that he is, poor villain!"
"If he knew that you betrayed him, that it was your treacherous tongue that sent me out to die, he would hang you beside Don Abrahan. Keep quiet, Doña Carlota, and go."
Doña Carlota's anger left her with a draining away of blood from her hot cheeks. She seemed to sink and collapse, like some inflated toy; her anger had distended her to such importance and outstanding feather. Her voice was weak when she spoke; her fat eyes were wide with fright.
"But, my most dear little dove," she protested, in wheedling, ingratiating tone, "Don Roberto did not intend the soldiers to fire. Did you not know? Oh, never such a heartless thought in his breast. It was only to frighten you out of further plotting with the base Yankees—that was his reason, my desired."
"If you had stood where I stood, Doña Carlota, you would have known it was a lie."
"Don't tell the American general, my beautiful! I am a weak old woman; I am a thing too despicable for his noble vengeance. Let me pass to my prayers, let me pass to my prayers!"
"The door is open, Doña Carlota."
"But the cannon, the terrible cannon! It points to the house, Helena. If they fire it I shall be killed."
"That is true; that is as they intend. Perhaps you'd better ask Don Gabriel to lock you up in the
