“Not so fast, Señorita. Why are you so late? What! you are not thinking of leaving before you have begun? The honor of the first dance must be mine. Come, it is a _chotess_.” And he swung her irresistibly through the door, and out on to the floor where a dozen girls were being whirled from one soldier to another. “_Varsouviana, valse._” The chief fiddler announced the dances. A timid little girl peered through the door from under a black shawl for a few moments, and then flattened herself on her haunches in a shadowy corner of the court yard. There was nothing else for it. Raquel must play up. Terrified at first, her feet nevertheless whirled obediently in the steps of the old-fashioned schottische she knew so well. Her thoughts collected themselves. Her poise returned as she whirled about. These fellows seemed to mean no harm; at any rate, just now they were bent only on having a good time. “You dance _divinamente_, Señorita,” whispered the young Mexican who had captured her. “From where do you come? Surely you are not of this barbarous locality? What? Yes?” He shrugged. “But of different quality from the other girls with whom I danced earlier in the evening.” He was bored with the native belles who coquetted about them. “Well, it is fortunate for you that you live about here,” went on the _teniente_, “otherwise you would never return home tonight. No one may pass through the lines about Moctezuma. There must be no possible communication with the north--with the United States. The General Carranza has not yet been recognized by that government, you see, and we are not any too friendly. “All gringoes are being detained, and not too well treated!” he laughed. “But that does not concern you, _Señorita bella_. The _commandante_ has given orders that this vicinity be molested no more. I understand they suffered much during the last Villa raid in Sonora.” “But tell me,” he pursued, “is it native to Sonora of the south, your beauty? Myself, I am from Chihuahua, where the girls are very indifferent, but I have heard that the southern provinces, _el distrito_ Sahuaripa especially, is famed for its lovely ladies.” The attentions of the young lieutenant had not gone unnoticed. Other uniforms were gathering round. The girls were buzzing with curiosity. Who was this newcomer? That dress? Was it not exactly like one of Caterina’s? But this one had a _gracia_ in wearing clothes, surely! Raquel caught the undercurrent of murmuring as she passed and repassed the other couples. In an interlude, another Mexican youth in uniform bowed low and swung his arm within hers as a square dance began, and she smiled gayly, clasping the hand of one after another in the figures of the dance. Indeed, Raquel was having a good time. But she was alive all the while to the necessity of escape. And although she smiled enchantingly, if discreetly, according to the etiquette of that region, and spoke scarcely at all, she clung ever so slightly to the Chihuahuan.