Duero stepped forward, planting a powerful fist upon the table and hitching at his belt: "Señor _Veedor_, we’ll have our hire now! Then, when you have brought some one to look after the señorita, our business is done. In the meantime, with your leave—or without it—we wait here. She must be cared for before morning. But now, our gold." Rogelio blinked about the circle, snuffled, and went out. Having closed the door, his rage overflowed in a series of frenzied gesticulations in the direction of Duero, accompanied by suppressed grunts and squeaks, until he was swollen in feature and quite breathless. He returned with a bag and pair of balances. They looked on with vigilance while he weighed out the gold, the lamp illuminating swarthy faces full of eagerness—except that of Duero, which was only watchful and grim. "There!" snapped the employer. "Two thousand _castellanos_. Take it." Duero extended an arm to withhold the others and said, coolly, "Double it!" The _veedor_ staggered back with the bag clasped in his arms. "Wha—what?" he gasped. "I say, double it!" replied Duero, with force. Rogelio stared at him with fallen chin. "Double it!" repeated the soldier, and returned the stare fixedly. "Fiends!" shrieked the _veedor_. "Man, thou ’rt mad! What was our bargain?" "That acquitteth the bargain, Señor, but there are damages." "Damages! What damages?" "Why, to our several consciences, _Veedor_. Mine, I’ll swear, hath stood a wear and tear that hath left not remnants enough to equip a dog! ’T is a most villanous piece of villany, and promiseth to grow worse when our hands are out of it. By the crucifix! Señor Rogelio, my soul will need masses for this affair, and I mean to provide for them. You will make it double, or the girl goeth to Xauxa this night; and I’ll have the Señor Inca notified—or mayhap, Mendoza." "Scoundrels, bandits, thieves!" screamed Rogelio, his face purple and hands shaking. Duero took a step toward him with a movement to his sword-hilt, and the victim retreated to the wall, hugging his gold and rolling his eyes in terror. The soldier surveyed him with contempt. "Well," he demanded, "what do you say? Must we lug her back to Xauxa? Answer, and quickly, for I sicken." "Oh, gentlemen!" wailed Rogelio, "be honest. Be just. Be considerate of a poor man." Duero broke in with imitation of his whine: "Oh, be open-handed. Be charitable. Be virtuous. Faugh! You offend my bile. Come. Yes, or no! Do you double it? ’T is indifferent to us, for the Inca, or Mendoza, will know how to reward. But answer!" Rogelio rolled his eyes to heaven, then lagged forward to the table and took up the scales. "Oh, my good men, ’t is—" "Cease!" commanded Duero. "We are no good men. Had we been, you had not approached us. Weigh out, and be done." The _veedor_ heaved a long, shuddering sigh, and weighed the gold. "Now," said Duero, "to your horse, and to Xauxa."