Just then the bell rang in the patio for the rosary, and Juanita, with a word of apology, slipped away, saying diffidently, "Though you are welcome to come and pray with us,"--divided between her wish to have him, and her reluctance to make it obligatory on a heretical guest to attend their services. "I shall pray with you," he said, simply, "but I shall remain here. My presence might not have a soothing effect on your servants. I shall smoke a cigar here on the terrace until you return." Juanita blushed. She would rather have lingered there herself than joined the others. The dusk was coming on; a few last bars of red lay along the sky line to the west where the sea was, and at that hour there was no corner so delightfully appealing as the great veranda where the gold-of-Ophir roses made a lattice of green and yellow against the warm sky. Ana entered and lit a candle in the hall and another in the room of Raquel, and went out again with a quiet nod to the American guest pacing the veranda aimlessly, and smoking one of Don Enrico's prime cigarros. When she had disappeared, he sauntered as aimlessly through the hall to the patio where the dark people were gathered with bent heads, murmuring responses sullenly, scarcely daring to lift their eyes to the group on the veranda. A few candles had been lit along the wall where the shadows were deepening, and in their soft light Bryton could see Don Enrico and all the men of the ranch--vaqueros and ploughmen alike--kneeling back of the women, and the red light yet showing through the gray of the ashes where the flames had leaped so lately. [Music: _El Campo._] Ya me voy de esta campo querida, Donde tiernas caricias goce Y me voy con el alma partida, Campo ingrata por ti llovare! CHAPTER XIII Only an instant he gave to it all, but in that instant he made certain that every man and woman on the place was at prayers, except the old Indian woman, who squatted with covered head in the hall, and himself. His movements were no longer aimless. He retreated swiftly to the veranda, and tossed the cigarro into the garden. One glance he gave the wooden-like figure of the old Indian. Only as a last resort would he attempt to pass that way, but if the windows were not barred-- They were not. Ana had gone against her aunt's Mexican rule, which was that all fresh air should be excluded from a sick-room; and while that lady and all her servants exclaimed against the admission of air, they let the blame lie on the shoulders of Ana, and no one closed the window. It swung wide to the wind of the west, and on the couch within, Bryton could see Raquel's face. The lids were closed over the violet eyes, and the lips were apart, showing the white teeth. It was still so light that he could see the little flush on the cheeks against the white pillow, and on her right hand one little old ring of plain gold. On the left hand shone the red gold of her new wedding-ring.