"She is so shrewd, she can see through a wall, Don Abrahan." Don Abrahan laughed again, seeming in pleasant humor for one who had ridden so far from his bed. He pinched Doña Carlota's cheek, finding no trouble to get his finger's full. "A wall is another thing," he said. Doña Carlota was not quick at a jest. She did not understand his mirth. Roberto entered, a pistol at his belt; Simon, the teamster, stood in the beam of Doña Carlota's candle outside the door. "Where is the Yankee dog?" Roberto demanded, harsh, disrespectful, his hat on his head. "Gently," Don Abrahan cautioned. "Not so loud. Lead us to the room where he is hidden. The house is guarded at every door, he cannot escape." "The house, the room?" Doña Carlota gasped in scandalized amazement. "Do you believe, Don Abrahan, that my niece would conceal a man in her house? Jesus save----" "Where, then?" Roberto demanded. "I do not know, Don Roberto, but somewhere on the ranch. The Yankee _mayordomo_ can tell you that." "A tree would tell as much!" Don Abrahan said. "Call Helena." "She has heard, she is coming. There is her candle in the hall!" Doña Carlota pressed her elbows to her sides, drew her shoulders as if trying to shrink upon herself. Helena appeared, lifting her candle high to peer beneath it at the intruders upon her midnight peace. The flaring bottom of the candlestick threw a shadow on her face, only her hair coming into the light. She was draped in a long, dark voluminous cloak, her arms bare in its wide sleeves, the white frill of her night-dress peeping at her throat out of its austere envelopment. "It is a late hour for a visit, Don Abrahan, Roberto," she said looking from one to the other in questioning surprise. "I heard horsemen in my patio. What does it mean?" [Illustration] "We have come to you for a man who has run away from a debt, like a thief," Don Abrahan replied. "Your _mayordomo_ is hiding him on your ranch, I have been told. It is to your authority I appeal, as a magistrate of the law, Helena, to compel the delivery of this man." "My _mayordomo_ is only obeying my orders," Helena replied. She placed her candle on the deep window-sill, gathering her cloak closer about her neck, standing so, clasping the mantle delicately, its loose sleeve slipping down to the bend of her arm. "You are humane, but mistaken," Don Abrahan chided her gently. "This man is a ruffianly sailor who ran away from his ship; he has committed a murderous assault on my son. He is entirely unworthy your protection and tender sympathy." "I am sorry that it was necessary for Roberto to suffer at his hands," she said, yet withholding from Roberto even the sympathy of her glance. "I have talked with the young sailor, Mr. Henderson. He is a gentleman, he does not deserve the hard usage you have given him, any more than he does the hard name, Don Abrahan. I intended to go down and see you about his case tomorrow."