"So exalted a personage must be a man of discretion," I said, looking fixedly at Walker. "His Excellency will think twice before exacting vengeance for so small an offence. The garrotting or imprisonment of one or all the members of the expedition would be a bad bargain if it resulted in the loss to His Catholic Majesty of the Floridas. Mr. Walker can tell you that the riflemen who muster for our backwoods militia could, unaided, sweep the Floridas from Louisiana to the Atlantic. What is more, they will do it at the first excuse. They are already at full cock over the manner in which the British agents are allowed by your people to come up from the Gulf and foment trouble against us among the Creeks, Cherokees, and Choctaws. Let General Salcedo go to extremes with our peaceful expedition, and there will be a setting of triggers from Georgia to Louisiana." "_Madre de Dios!_ Be prudent, I pray you, Juan!" warned Don Pedro. "Such words are best left unsaid." "Are they?" I demanded. "If to-morrow every free-minded man in New Spain spoke out his real thoughts, to-morrow this land would be free from Old Spain." "_Maria santisima!_" gasped Dona Marguerite, dropping her fan and sitting erect. "We forget that Don Juan is a citizen of the Anglo-American Republic," said Alisanda, calmly. "In his land men are not accustomed to wear muzzles." "Because our fathers rebelled and triumphed over the tyrant who oppressed them," I added. There followed a tense silence. The sun had set, and I could barely distinguish the features of the others in the fast gathering twilight. There was a shadow upon them, not alone of the night. Before any one spoke, the silence was broken by the peal of a huge church bell. Instantly all others than myself bent forward, crossing themselves and murmuring hasty prayers--"_Ave Maria purisima!_" "_Ave Maria santisima!_"--while slowly the great bell pealed forth its deep and sonorous note. In the midst a little hand slipped out and rested for a moment upon my hard knuckles. I turned my palm about to clasp the visitor, but it flitted like a butterfly. An instant later _la oracion_ was brought to a close by a merry chime of smaller bells. The senoras began to chat in lively tones, and servants hastened in with waxen tapers to relieve the deepening gloom. Greatly to my annoyance, Walker rose to leave. I might have surmised that he was prompted to the action by jealousy, but my ignorance of local etiquette made me apprehensive of another blunder. This forced me to follow his lead and join in his polite refusals of the pressing invitations of our host and hostess to remain for the evening. In a land where, upon an introduction to a man in the plaza, he presents you with his house, and later is not at home to you when you call at that same house, it is as well to take the most urgent of invitations with a grain of salt.